The new and complete book of martyrs; or, An universal history of martyrdom: being Fox's Book of marytrs, revised and corrected, with additions and great improvements. : Containing an authentic account of the lives, persecutions and sufferings of the holy martyrs; and the many dreadful persecutions against the Church of Christ in all parts of the world, by pagans, Jews, Turks, papists, and others, from earliest ages of the church to the present period. ... The whole forming at once a general Christian martyrology, and a complete history of persecutions. / By the Rev. Mr. John Fox, M.A. late of Magdalen College, Oxford. ; Now revised, corrected and improved, with many additional articles, relating to the acts and monuments of the church. By Paul Wright, D.D. ; Embellished with forty elegant copper plate engravings. ; In two volumes. Vol. I[-II].

THE NEW AND COMPLETE BOOK of MARTYRS; OR, AN UNIVERSAL HISTORY OF MARTYRDOM: BEING FOX'S BOOK OF MARTYRS, Newly Revised and Corrected, with Additions and great Improvements.

BEGINNING WITH A COMPLETE HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF THE LIVES, SUFFERINGS, AND DEATHS, OF THE PRIMITIVE AND EARLY MARTYRS, FROM THE CREATION OF THE WORLD, TO THE TIME OF QUEEN MARY I.

CHAP. I. An Account of the PERSECUTIONS in the FIRST AGES of the WORLD.

THE spirit of persecution soon began to shew itself in the world, after the creation. Of th••s we have a lamentable account given by Moses. The righteous Abel was the first martyr who fell a sacrifice to the envy and cruelty of his brothe•• Cain. Afterwards commenced the per|secution of Noah by his son Ham; the persecution of Lot at Sodom; and of Joseph by his brethren.

IN these early ages, the first general persecution may be deemed that of the children of Israel by Pha|raoh. This tyrant not only afflicted both sexes of all ages by means of the most cruel tas••-masters, but even orde••ed the new-born infants of the Hebrew women to be murdered. He was, however, pu|••ished fo•• his persecutions; first by ten dreadful plagues, and afterwards by being swallowed up in the Red Sea, with all his host.

THE children of Israel, after being freed from bondage▪ were successively persecuted by the Phili|stines, Ammonites, Egyptians, Ethiopians, Arabi|ans, and Assyrians; and many of the prophets and chosen of God were persecuted by several of the kings of Judah and Israel.

THE three righteous children were thrown into the fiery furnace by Nebuchadnezzar; Daniel was cast into the lion's den by order of Darius; and Mor|decai was persecuted by the malicious Haman: but these were all respectively saved by the Almighty, and their persecutors punished for their perfidy.

THE Jews were persecuted by the neighbouring idolators during the time of their building and fortifying Jerusalem, till that great work was fi|nished by the care of Nehemiah; but after its completion they were frequently disturbed by the Persians, and the successors of Alexander the Great, though that monarch himself had granted the most unlimited favours.

BUT a little more than a century and a half be|fore the birth of Christ, Antiochus seized upon and sacked the city of Jerusalem, plundered the temple, and murdered many of the Jews who re|fused to conform with his idolatry, by scourging, strangling, crucifying, and stifling them, and by closing up the mouths of the caves to which they fled for shelter.

ANTIOCHUS and his idolatrous tormentors were, however, at length bravely opposed by Matthias a priest, and his valiant sons, the principal of whom was Judas Maccabeus. This able commander Ju|das, with his brave brothers, inspired the dispirited Jews with new courage, defeated the generals of Antiochus, freed their country from bondage, and afterwards turned their arms against the Edomites and Ammonites, over whom they were equally suc|cessful.

AT length Antiochus died a terrible death, his flesh having been some time before quite pu••rid, and producing maggots; so that he became loath|some to himself, and nauseous to all about him. His successors, however, continued their enmity to the Jews; but they were opposed, with various success, by the Maccabees.

THE Jews now entered into a treaty offensive and defensive with the Romans; but soon after lost their worthy champion Judas Maccabeus, who was slain in a bloody battle fought with the Greeks, un|der the command of their general Bacchides.

ANTIOCHUS Epiphanes now reigning in Syria, and having some success against the Jews, went to Jerusalem, where he ordered Eleazer the priest to be put to death in the most cruel manner, for refu|sing to eat swine's flesh. Then seizing on a family of Maccabees, consisting of a matron named Sala|mon••▪ and her seven sons, he carried them all to Antioch. He would fain have persuaded them to embrace his idolatry, which they nobly and una|nimously refusing, he ordered them all to be put to death.

MACCABEUS, the eldest, was accordingly stripped, stretched on the rack, and severely beaten. He was next fastened to a wheel, and weights hung to his feet till his sinews cracked. Afterwards his tormentors threw him into a fire till he was dread|fully scorched; then they drew him out, cut out his tongue, and put him into a frying-pan, with a slow fire under it, till he died. As long as he had life, and power of expression, under these exquisite tor|ments, he fervently called upon God, and exhorted his brothers to a similar perseverance.

AFTER the second son had his hands fastened with chains, with which he was hung up, his skin was flayed off from the crown of his head to his knees. He was then cast to a leopard, but the beast refu|sing to touch him, he was suffered to languish till he expired with the excruciating pain, and loss of blood.

MACHIR, the third son, was bound to a globe till his bones were all dislocated; his head and face were then flayed, his tongue cut out, and being cast into a pan he was fryed to death.

JUDAS, the fourth son, after having his tongue cut out, was beat with ropes, and then racked upon a wheel.

ACHAS, the fifth son, was pounded in a large brazen mortar.

ARETH, the sixth son, was fastened to a pillar with his head downwards, slowly roasted by a fire kindled at some distance; h••s tongue was then cut out, and he was lastly fryed in a pan.

JACOB, the seventh and youngest son, had his arms cut off, his tongue plucked out, and was then fryed to death.

THEY all bore their fate with the same intrepidity as their elder brother, and called upon the Almighty to receive them into heaven.

SALAMONA, the mother, after having in a manner

died seven deaths in beholding the martyrdom of her children, was, by the tyrant's order, stripped naked, severely scourged, her br••asts cut off, and her body fryed till she expired.

THE tyrant, who inflicted these cruelties, was afterwards struck with madness; and then his flesh became corrupted, and his bowels mortified, which put an end to his wicked life.

CHAP. II. Containing an Account of the LIFE, SUFFERINGS, and cruel MARTYRDOM of Our Blessed Lord and Saviour JESUS CHRIST; together with that of his APOSTLES, EVANGELISTS, &c. and the TEN GREAT PERSECUTIONS in the PRIMITIVE CHURCH.

HEROD the Great being informed that a king of the Jews should be born in Bethlehem, sent a number of troops to destroy all the children, under two years of age, in that place, and through|out the neighbouring coast. By this cruel order he hoped to have destroyed the child Jesus; but in this he was not only disappointed, but punished with such a spirit of lunacy, that he slew his own wife, children, relations, friends, &c. He was af|terwards visited by the most grievous maladies, particularly an inward burning, slow, but unremit|ting; an uncommon appetite, continually craving, but ever unsatisfied; a cramp that racked him with pain; a flux that reduced him to weakness▪ worms that bred in him and gnawed him; vermin that engendered about him and devoured him; a gene|ral putrefaction that consumed him; and, in fine, all those complicated disorders which could possi|bly render him hateful to himself, and odious to others. His torments at length became so into|lerable, that not having either the comforts of reli|gion, or the support of a good conscience to sustain his sinking spirits, he attempted to lay violent hands upon himself. Being prevented in this attempt by those about him, he at last sunk under the oppres|sion of his afflictions, and expired in the most miser|able manner.

HEROD the I••ess having married the daughter of the king of Arabia, repudiated her, and espoused Herodias, his brother Philip's wife: for which marriage, full of incest and adultery, John the Bap|tist boldly and severely reproved him. This free|dom greatly incensed Herodias; for we are inform|ed by St. Matthew, in the xiv. chapter of his gos|pel, that when Herod's birth-day was kept, the daughter of Herodias danced before them, and plea|sed Herod: whereupon he promised, with an oath, to give her whatsoever she would ask. "And she be|ing before instructed of her mother, said, Give me here John Baptist's head in a charger. And the king was sorry; nevertheless, for the oath's sake, and them which sat with him at meat, he commanded it to be given her. And he sent and beheaded John in the prison. And his head was brought in a charger, and given to the damsel: and she brought it to her mother." The authors of this cruelty were, however, all severely punished; for the daughter of Herodias being afterwards dancing upon the ice, it broke, and she falling in, had her head sever|ed from her body by its again closing; and Herod, with the incestuous adultress Herodias, falling un|der the displeasure of the Roman emperor, were banished, and died miserably in exile.

BUT to proceed to the history of our Blessed Re|deemer. In the reign of Herod the Great already mentioned, the angel Gabriel was sent by the Al|mighty to a holy virgin, called Mary. This mai|den was betrothed to a carpenter named Joseph, who resided at Nazareth, a city of Galilee, but the consummation had not then taken place; for it was the custom of the eastern nations to contract persons of each sex from their childhood, though the coha|bitation was not permitted till years of maturity.

THE angel informed Mary how highly she was fa|voured of God, and that she should conceive a son

by the Holy Spirit, which happened accordingly; for travelling to Bethlehem to pay the capitation-tax then levied, the town was so crouded that they could only get lodgings in a stable, where the holy virgin brought forth our Blessed Redeemer, which was an|nounced to the world by a star and an angel: the wise men of the east saw the first, and the shepherds the latter. After Jesus had been circumcised, he was presented in the temple by the holy virgin; up|on which occasion Simeon broke out in the follow|ing celebrated words: "Lord now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace according to thy word, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." Luke ii.29, 30.

JESUS, in his youth, disputed with the most learned doctors in the temple, and soon after was baptized in the river Jordan by John, when the Holy Ghost descended upon him in the form of a dove, and a voice was heard audibly to pro|nounce these words: This is my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased.

CHRIST afterwards fasted forty days and nights in the wilderness, when he was tempted by the devil, but resisted all his allurements. He then performed his first miracle at Cana in Galilee; he likewise conversed with the good Samaritan, and restored to life a nobleman's dead child. Travelling through Galilee, he restored the blind to sight, cured the lame, the lepers, &c.

AMONG other benevolent actions, at the pool of Bethesda, he cured a paralytic man, who had been lame thirty-eight years, bidding him take up his bed and walk; and he afterwards cured a man, whose right hand was shrunk up and withered.

HAVING chosen his twelve apostles, he preach|ed the celebrated sermon upon the Mount; after which he performed several miracles, particularly the feeding of the multitude, and the walking on the surface of the water.

AT the time of the passover, Jesus supped with his disciples; informed them, that one of them would betray him, and another deny him, and preached his farewel sermon. Soon after a multitude of armed men surrounded him, and Judas kissed him, in order to point him out to the soldiers who did not know him personally. In the scuffle occasioned by the apprehending of Jesus, Peter cut off the ear of Malchus, the ser|vant of the high-priest, for which Jesus reproved him, and healed the wound by touching it. Peter and John followed Jesus to the house of Annas, who refusing to judge him, sent him bound to Caia|phas, where Peter denied Christ, as the latter had predicted; but on Christ's reminding him of his perfidy, Peter went out and wept bitterly.

WHEN the council assembled in the morning, the Jews mocked Jesus, and the elders suborned false witnesses against him: the principal accu|sation 〈…〉〈…〉 him being, that he had said, I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and within three days I will build another made without hands, Mark xiv.58. Caiaphas then asked him if he was Christ, the Son of God, or no; being answered in the affirmative, he was accused of blasphemy, and condemned to death by Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, who, tho' conscious of his innocence, yielded to the solicitations of the Jews, and condemned him to be crucified.

PREVIOUS to the crucifixion, the Jews, by way of derision, clothed Christ in a regal robe, put a crown of thorns upon his head, and a reed, for a sceptre, in his hand: they then mocked him with ironical compliments, spit in his face, slapped his cheeks, and taking the reed out of his hand, they struck him with it upon the head. Pilate would fain have released him, but the general cry was, Crucify him, Crucify him; which occasioned the govern•••• to call for a bason of water, and having washed his hands, he de|clared himself innocent of the blood of Christ, whom he truely termed a just person. The Jews, however, said, let his blood be upon us and our children; which wish has manifestly taken place, as they have never since been a collected people.

IN leading Christ to the place of crucifixion, they obliged him to bear the cross, which he be|ing unable to sustain, they compelled one Simon, a native of Cyrenia, to carry the cross the rest of the way. Mount Calvary was the place of exe|cution, where being arrived, the soldiers offered

him a mixture of gall and vinegar to drink, which he refused. Having stripped him, they nailed him to the cross, and crucified him between two malefactors. After being fastened to the cross, he uttered this benevolent prayer for his enemies: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." The soldiers who crucified him being four in number, now cut his mantle to pieces, and divided it between them; but his coat being without seam, they cast lots for it. Whilst Christ remained in the agonies of death, the Jews mock|ed him, and said, "If thou art the Son of God, come down from the cross." The chief priests and scribes also reviled him, and said, "He fayed others but cannot save himself." Indeed, one of the male|factors who was crucified with him, cried out, and said "If you are the Messiah, save yourself and us;" but the other male••actor, having the greatest reli|ance upon Jesus, exclaimed, "Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom." To which Christ replied, "This day shalt thou be with me in paradise."

WHILE Christ was upon the cross, the earth was covered with darkness, and the stars appeared at noon-day, which struck even the Jews with terror. In the midst of his tortures Christ cried out, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me;" and then expressed a desire to drink, when one of the soldiers gave him, upon the point of a reed, a spunge dipped in vinegar, which, however, Jesus refused. About three o'clock in the afternoon he gave up the ghost, and at the same time a violent earthquake happened, when the rocks were rent, the mountains trembled, and the graves gave up their dead. These were the signal prodigies that attended the death of Christ, and such was the mortal end of the Redeemer of mankind.

An Account of the Lives, Sufferings, and Mar|tyrdom, of the APOSTLES, EVANGE|LISTS, &c.

I. ST. STEPHEN.

THE Proto, or first martyr, was elected, with six others, as a deacon, out of the Lord's se|venty disciples. Stephen was an able and success|ful preacher. The principal persons belonging to five Jewish synagogues entered into many alterca|tions with him; but he, by the soundness of his doctrine, and the strength of his arguments, over|came them all, which so much irritated them, that they suborned false witnesses to accuse him of blas|pheming God and Moses. Being carried before the council, he made a noble defence, but that so much exasperated his judges, that they resolved to condemn him. At this instant Stephen saw a vision from heaven of Jesus, in his glorified state, sitting at the right hand of God. This vision so greatly rejoiced him, that he exclaimed in raptures, "Be|hold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of Man standing on the right hand of God." They then condemned him, and having dragged him out of the city, stoned him to death. On the spot where he was martyred, Eudocia, the empress of the emperor Theodosius, erected a superb church.

THE death of Stephen was suc••••eded by a severe persecution in Jerusalem, in which 2000 christians, with Nicar the deacon, were martyred; and many others obliged to leave the place.

II. ST. JAMES the GREAT, a Galilean, was the son of Zebedee, a fisherman, the elder brother of St. John, and a relation to Christ himself; for his mother Salome was cousin-german to the virgin Mary. Being one day with his father fishing in the sea of Galilee, he, and his brother John, were called by our Saviour to become his disciples. They chearfully obeyed the mandate, and leaving their father, followed Jesus. It is to be observed, that Christ placed a greater confidence in them, than in any other of the apostles, Peter excepted.

CHRIST called these brothers Boanerges, or the sons of thunder, on account of their fiery spirits, and impetuous tempers.

HEROD Agrippa, being made governor of Judea by the emperor Caligula, raised a persecution against the christians, and particularly singled out James as an object of revenge.

JAMES, being condemned to death, shewed such an intrepidity of spirit, and constancy of mind, that his very accuser was struck with admiration, and became a convert to christianity. This transition

so enraged the people in power, that they likewise condemned him to death; when James the apostle, and his penitent accuser were both beheaded on the same day, and with the same sword. These events took place in the year of Christ 44.

MUCH about the same period, Timon and Par|menas, two of the seven deacons, suffered martyr|dom; the former at Corinth, and the latter at Phi|lippi, and Macedonia.

III. ST. PHILIP. This apostle and martyr was born at Bethsaida, in Galilee, and was the first called by the name of Disciple. He was honoured with several important commissions by Christ, and being deputed to preach in Upper Asia, laboured very diligently in his apostleship. He then travel|led into Phryg••a, and arriving at Heliopolis, was greatly grieved to find the inhabitants so sunk in ido|latry, as to worship a large serpent. St. Philip, however, converted many of them to christianity, and even procured the death of the serpent. This so enraged the magistrates, that they committed him to prison, had him severely scourged, and af|terwards crucified. His friend, St. Bartholomew, found an opportunity of taking down the body, and burying it; for which, however, he was very near suffering the same fate. His martyrdom happened eight years after that of St. James the great, A. D. 52.

IV. ST. MATTHEW. This evangelist, a|postle, and martyr, was born at Nazareth in Gali|lee, but resided chiefly at Capernaum, on account of his business, which was that of a toll-gatherer, to collect tribute of such as had occasion to pass the sea of Galilee. On being called as a disciple▪ he immediately complied, and left every thing to fol••low Christ. After the ascension of his master, he continued preaching the gospel in Judea about nine years. Designing to leave Judea▪ in order to go and preach among the Gentiles, he wrote his gospel in Hebrew, for the use of the Jewish c••nvert••; but it was afterwards translated into 〈◊〉〈◊〉 by St. James the less. Going to Ethiopia he ordained preachers, settled churches, and m••de many con|verts. He then proceeded to 〈◊〉〈◊〉, where he had the same success; but returning to ••t••i••pia, he was slain by a h••lbert in the city of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, a••bout the year of Christ ••0. He was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 inoffensive in his conduct, and temperate in his mode of living.

V. ST. MARK. This evangelist and martyr was 〈…〉〈…〉 Jewish parents, of the tribe of Levi. It is imagined, that he was converted to christianity by St. Peter, whom he served as an amanuensis, and whom he attended in all his travels. Being en|treated by the converts at Rome to commit to writ|ing the admirable discourses they had heard from St. Peter and himself: this request he complied with, and composed his gospel accordingly, in the Greek language. He then went to Egypt, and constituted a bishopric at Alexandria: afterwards he proceeded to Lybia, where he made many con|verts. Returning to Alexandria, some of the E|gyptians exasperated at his success, determined on his death. To accomplish this they tied his feet, dragged him through the streets, left him to remain, bruised as he was, in a dungeon all night, and the next day burned his body. This happened on the 25th of April. His bones were carefully gather|ed up by the christians, decently interred, and af|terwards removed to Venice, where he is considered as the titular saint, and patron of the state.

VI. ST. JAMES the Less. This apostle and martyr was called so, to distinguish him from St. James the great. He was the son, by a first wi••••, of Joseph, the reputed father of Christ: he was, after the Lord's ascension, elected bishop of Jeru|salem: he wrote his general epistle to all christians, and converts whatever, to suppress a dangerous error then propagating, viz. "That a faith in Christ was alone sufficient for salvation, without good works." The Jews being, at this time, greatly enraged that St. Paul had escaped t••eir fury, by appealing to Rome, determined to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 their vengeance on James, who was now 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉〈◊〉: they ••ccord|ingly threw him down beat, bruis••d, and stoned him▪ and then dashed out his 〈…〉〈…〉 a club, such as was used by fullers in dr••ssing cloths.

VII. S••. MATTHIAS. 〈…〉〈…〉 and martyr was called to the apos••l••ship ••fter the death of Christ, to supply the vacant pla•••• of Ju••as, who had betrayed his master, and was lik••wise one of the se••ent•• disciples. H•• wa•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 at Jerusa|lem, being first stoned, ••••d then 〈…〉〈…〉

VIII. St. ANDREW. This apostle and mar|tyr was brother to St. Peter, and preached the gos|pel to many Asiatic nations. Arriving at Edessa, the governor of the country, named Egeas, threat|ened him very hard for preaching against the idols there worshipped. St Andrew persisting in the propagation of his doctrines, he was ordered to be crucified on a cross, two ends of which were trans|versely fixed in the ground. He boldly told his accusers, that he would not have preached the glo|ry of the cross, had he feared to die on it. And a|gain, when they came to crucify him, he said, that he coveted the cross, and longed to embrace it. He was fastened to the cross, not with nails but cords, that his death might be more, lingering. In this si|tuation he continued two days, preaching the great|est part of the time to the people; and expired on the 30th of November.

IX. ST. PETER. This great apostle and martyr was born at Bethsaida in Galilee, being the son of Jonah, a fisherman, which employment St. Peter himself followed. He was persuaded by his brother to turn christian, when Christ gave him the name of Cephas, implying in the Syriac language, a rock. He was called, at the same time as his brother, to be an apostle; gave uncommon proofs of his zeal for the service of Christ, and always appeared as the principal speaker among the apostles. He had, however, the weakness to deny his master, af|ter his apprehension, though he defended him at the time; but the sincerity of his repentance made an atonement for the atrociousness of his crime.

THE Jews, after the death of Christ, still continu|ed to persecute the christians, and even went so far as to order several of the apostles, among whom was Peter, to be scourged▪ This punishment they bore with great fortitude, and rejoiced that they were thought worthy to suffer for the sake of Christ.

HEROD Agrippa having caused St. James the great to be put to death, and finding that it pleas|ed the Jews, resolved, in order to ingratiate him|self farther with the people, that Peter should fall a sacrifice to his malice. He was accordingly apprehended, and thrown into prison; but an an|gel of the L••rd released him, which so enraged He|rod, that he ordered the centinels, who guarded the dungeon in which he had been confined, to be put to death. St. Peter, after various other mira|cles, retired to Rome, where he defeated all the ar|tifices, and confounded the magic of Simon, the magician, a great favourite of the emperor Nero: he likewise converted to christianity one of the concubines of that monarch, which so exasperated the tyrant, that he ordered both St. Peter and St. Paul to be apprehended. During the time of their confinement, they converted two of the captains of the guard, and 47 other persons to christianity. Having been nine months in prison, Peter was brought out from thence for execution, when, af|ter being severely scourged, he was crucified with his head downwards; which position, however, was at his own request. He, as well as Paul, suffered on the 29th day of June. His body being taken down, embalmed, and buried in the vatican, a church was afterwards erected on the spot; but this being destroyed by the emperor He|liogabalus, the body was removed, till the 20th bis••••p of Rome, called Corn••lius, conveyed it again to the vatican: afterwards Constantine the great erected one of the most stately churches in the universe over the place. Before we quit this article it is requisite to observe, that previous to the death of St. Peter, his wife suffered martry|dom for the faith of Christ, and was exhorted, when going to be put to death, to remember the Lord Jesus.

X. ST. PAUL, the apostle and martyr, was a Jew of the tribe of Benjamin, born at Tarsus, in Cilicia. He was at first a great enemy to, and per|secutor of the christians; but after his miraculous conversion, he became a strenuous preacher of Christ's gospel. At Iconium, St. Paul and St. Barnabas were near being stoned to death by the enraged Jews; wherefore they fled to Lyconia. At Lystra, St. Paul was stoned, dragged out of the city, and left for dead. He, however, happily revived, and escaped to Derbe. At Philippi, Paul and Silas were imprisoned and whipped; and both were again persecuted at Thessalonica. Being afterwards ta|ken at Jerusalem, he was sent to Cesar••a, but ap|pealed to Caesar at Rome. Here he continued a prisoner at large for two years. Being released, he visited the churches of Rome, and preached in France and Spain. Returning to Rome, he was again apprehended, and, by the order of Nero, martyred, by being beheaded.

XI. ST. JUDE, the apostle and martyr, the brother of James, was commonly called •• haddaeus. Being sent to Edesa, he wrought many miracles, and made many converts, which stirring up the re|sentment of people in power, he was crucified▪ A. D. ••2.

XII. ST. BARTHOLOMEW preached in se|veral countries, performed many miracles, and healed various diseases. He translated St. Mat|thew's gospel into the Indian language, and pro|pagated it in that country: but at length, the ido|lators growing impatient with his doctrines, severe|ly beat, crucified, and flayed him, and then cut off his head.

XIII. ST. THOMAS, as he was called in Sy|riac, but Didymus in Greek, was an apostle and martyr. He preached in Parthia and India, where displeasing the Pagan priests, he was martyred by being thrust through with a spear.

XIV. ST. LUKE, the evangelist and martyr, was the author of a most excellent gospel. He travelled with St. Paul to Rome, and preached to divers barbarous nations, till the priests in Greece hanged him on an olive-tree.

XV. ST. SIMON, the apostle and martyr, was distinguished by the name of Zelotes, from his zeal. He preached with great success in Mauritania, and other parts of Africa, and even in Britain, where, though he made many converts, he was crucified bv the then barbarous inhabitants of that island, A. D. 74.

XVI. ST. JOHN. This saint was, at once, a prophet, apostle, divine, evangelist, and martyr. He is called the beloved disciple, and was brother to James the great. He was previously a disciple of John the Baptist, and afterwards not only one of the twelve apostles, but one of the three to whom Christ communicated the most secret passages of his life. The churches in Asia sounded by St. John were, Smyrna, Pergamus, Sardis, Philadelphia, Laodicea, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉, to whom he directs his book of Revelations. Being at Ephesus, he wa•• ordered by the emperor Domitian to be sent bound to Rome, where he was condemned to be cast into a c••aldron of boiling oil. But here a miracle ap|peared in his favour; the oil did him no injury, and Domitian therefore not being able to put him to death, banished him to Patmos to work at the mines. He was, however, recalled by Nerva, who succeeded Domitian after his decease, but was deemed a martyr on account of the having under|gone the mode of an execution, though it did not take effect. He wrote his epistles, gospel, and revelations, all in a different style; but they are all equally admired. He was the only apostle who escaped a violent death: lived the longest of any of them, being near 100 years of age at the time of his death.

XVII. ST. BARNABAS was a native of Cy••prus, but of Jewish pa••ents: the time of his death is uncertain, but supposed to be about the year of Christ 73.

An Account of the First Primitive Persecu|tion, which began in the Year 67, under the Reign of NERO, Emperor of Rome.

IN the primitive ages of the church, the first per••secution was begun by that cruel tyrant Nero, the sixth emperor of Rome. This monarch reign|ed for the space of five years with tolerable credit to himself, but then gave way to the greatest extra|vagancy of temper, and to the most atrocious bar|barities. Among other diabolical whims, he took it into his head to order, that the city of Rome shuld be set on fire, which was done by his officers, guards, and servants, accordingly. While the im••perial city was in flames, he went up to the tower of Mac••••••••, played upon his harp, sung the song of the burning of Troy, and openly declare••. "That he wished the ruin of all things before his death." Among the noble bu••l si••gs burnt was the Circus, or place appropriated to 〈…〉〈…〉: it was half a mile in length, of an oval form, with rows of seats rising above each other, and ••••p••ble of receiving, with case, upwards of 100,000 spec|tators. Besides this noble pil••, many oth•••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and houses w••re consumed; several thousan•• 〈…〉〈…〉 in the f••ames, were smothered in the sin••••••, or buried b••neath the ruins.

THIS dreadful conflagration c••••tinued ••i••e day••,

when Nero, finding that his conduct was greatly blamed, and a severe odium cast upon him, deter|mined to lay the whole upon the christians, at once to excuse himself, and have an opportunity of glut|ting his sight with new cruelties. This was the oc|casion of the first persecution; and the barbarities exercised upon the christians were such as even ex|cited the commiseration of the Romans themselves. Nero even refined upon cruelty, and contrived al manner of punishments for that the most inferna imagination could design. In particular, he had some sewed up in the skins of wild beasts, and then worried by dogs till they expired; and others dres|sed in shirts made stiff with wax, fixed to axle-trees, and set on fire in his gardens in order to illuminate them. This persecution was general throughout the whole Roman empire; but it rather increased than diminished the spirit of christianity. In the course of it, St. Paul and St. Peter were martyred (as we have already mentioned in our account of the lives, sufferings, and martyrdom of the apo••|tles, evangelists, &c. in the foregoing order) and beside many others, whose names have not been transmitted to posterity, were some of their con|verts and followers, the circumstances concerning the principal of whom we shall here relate.

ERASTUS, the chamberlain of Corinth, was converted by St. Paul, and determined to follow the fortune of that apostle. For this reason he re|signed his office, and accompanied St. Paul in his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and travels, till the latter left him in Ma|cedonia, where he was first made Bishop of that province by the christians; and afterwards suffered martyrdom, being tortured to death by the Pagans at Philippi.

ARISTARCHUS, the Macedonian, was born in Thessalonica, and being converted by St. Paul, became his constant companion.

HE was at that apostle at Ephesus, during a com|motion raised in that city by Demetrius the silver|smith. They both received several 〈◊〉〈◊〉 upon the occasion from the 〈…〉〈…〉, which they bore with true christian 〈◊〉〈◊〉, giving good advi•••• in return for ill usage, and not in the least resent••ng any indignity put upon them.

FROM Ephesus, Aristarchus accompanied St. Paul into Greece, where they were very successf••l in propagating the gospel, and bringing over many from ignorance to a ••aving knowledge, and from Pagan darkness to the glorious light of christianity.

LEAVING Greece they traversed a great part of Asia, and made a considerable stay in Judea, where they were so successful in making converts in those parts, that idolatry seemed to fly before them, and truth to diffuse its rays wherever they came.

ARISTARCHUS afterwards went with St. Paul to Rome, where he suffered the same fate as the apostle, for being seized as a christian, he was beheaded by the command of Nero.

TROPHIMUS, an Ephesian by birth, and a Gentile by religion, was converted by St. Paul to the christian faith.

AFTER his conversion he accompanied his master in his voyages and travels; and upon his account the Jews raised a great disturbance in the temple of Jerusalem, the last time St. Paul was in that city. They proceeded so far in their malice against the apostle, that they attempted to murder him, for having introduced a Greek into the temple; for Trophimus being a Greek, was looked upon by the Jews with detestation. Lysias, the captain of the guard, however, interposed his authority, and by force rescued St. Paul from the hands of the Jews.

ON quitting Jerusalem, Trophimus followed his master to Rome, and did him every essential service in his power. He then attended him to Spain, and passing through Gaul, the apostle made him bishop of that province, and left him behind the city of Arles.

ABOUT a twelvemonth after he paid a visit to St. Paul in Asia, and went with him for the last time, to Rome, where he was witness to the martyrdom of his master; which was but the fore-runner of his own, for being soon after seized on account of his faith, he was beheaded by the emperor Nero's ex|press orders.

JOSEPH, commonly called BARSABAS, was a primitive disciple, and is usually deemed one of the seventy. He was, in some degree, related to

our blessed Redeemer, and became a candidate, to|gether with Matthias, to fill the vacant place of Ju|das Iscariot, the traitor.

THE gospel and ecclesiastical writers make very little other mention of him; but Papias informs us, that he was once compelled to drink poison, which did not do him the least injury, agreeable to the pro|mise of the Lord to those who believe in him.

DURING his life he was a zealous preacher of the gospel; and having received many insults from the Jews, at length received the crown of martyrdom, being murdered by the Pagans in Judea.

ANANIAS, bishop of Damascus, is celebrated in the sacred writing for being the person who cured St. Paul of the blindness with which he was struck by the amazing brightness which happened at his conversion. He was one of the Seventy, and martyred in the city of Damascus. After his death a christian church was built over the place of his burial, which is now converted into a Turkish mosque.

An account of the Second Primitive Persecu|tion, under the Emperor DOMITIAN.

THE emperor Domitian, being naturally in|clined to cruelty, first slew his brother, and then raised the second persecution against the chris|tians. His rage was such, that he even put to death some of the Roman senators; some through malice, and others to confiscate their estates. He then commanded all the lineage of David to be put to death. Two christians were brought before the emperor, and accused of being of the tribe of Ju|dah, and line of David; but from their answers, he despised them as ideots and dismissed them ac|cordingly. He, however, for his lenity here, was determined to be more severe upon other occasions; for he took away the substance of many christians, banished others, and put several to death.

AMONG the numerous martyrs that suffered du|ring this persecution was Simeon, bishop of Jeru|salem, who was crucified; and St. John, who was boiled in oil, and afterwards banished to Patmos. Flavia, the daughter of a Roman senator, was likewise banished to Pontus; and a law was made, "That no christian, once brought before the tribu|nal, should be exempted from punishment without renouncing his religion."

A variety of fabricated tales were, during this reign, composed in order to injure the christians. Among other falsehoods, they were accused of in|decent nightly meetings, of a rebellious turbulent spirit, of being pernicious to the Roman empire, of murdering their children, and even of being cannibals. Such was the infatuation of the Pagans, that if famine, pestilence, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 earthquakes, afflicted any of the Roman provinces, it was laid upon the christians. These persecutions among the christians increased the number of informers; and many, for the sake of gain, swore away the lives of the inno|cent.

ANOTHER hardship was, that when any chris|tians were brought before the magistrates, a test oath was proposed, when, if they refused to take it, death was pronounced against them; and if they confessed themselves christians, the sentence was the same. The various kinds of punishments and inflicted cruelties were, during this persecution, imprisonment, racking, fearing, broiling, burn|ing, scourging, stoning, strangling, hanging, wor|rying.

SOME indeed were torn piecemeal, with red hot pincers, and others were thrown upon the horns of wild bulls. After having suffered these cruelties, the friends of the deceased christians were refused the privilege of burying their poor remains.

THE following were the most remarkable among the numerous martyrs who suffered during this persecution.

DIONYSIUS, the Areopagite, was an Athe|nian by birth, and educated in all the useful and ornamental literature of Greece. He then travel|led to Egypt to study astronomy, and made parti|cular observations on the great and supernatural eclipse, which happened at the time of our Sa|vious crucifixion.

ON his return to Athens, he was highly honoured

by the people, and at length promoted to the dig|nity of senator of that celebrated city. Becoming a convert to the gospel, he changed from the wor|thy Pagan magistrate to the pious christian pastor; for even while involved in the darkness of idolatry, he was as just as the gross errors of Paganism would permit.

IT is easy to be imagined, that a soul which could appear with some lustre while loaded with original sin, and tainted with superstition, must, when illu|minated with the light of the gospel, shine with the most splendid brilliancy.

THE sanctity of his conversation, and purity of his manners, recommended him so strongly to the christians in general, that he was appointed bishop of Athens. He discharged his duty with the utmost diligence till the second year of this pers••cution, viz. A. D. 69, when he was apprehended, and re|ceived the crown of martyrdom, by being beheaded.

NICOMEDES, a christian of some distinction at Rome, during the rage of Domitian's persecu|tion, did all he could to serve the afflicted; com|forting the poor, visiting the confined, exhorting the wavering, and confirming the faithful. For those and other pious actions he was seized as a christian, and being sentenced, was scourged to death.

PROTASIUS and GERVASIUS were mar|tyred at Milan: but the particular circumstances of their deaths are not recorded.

TIM••THY, the cel••brated disciple of St. Paul, and bishop of Ephesus, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 born a•• Lystra, in the province of Lyca••ni••, his father being a Gentile, and his mot••er a J••we••••▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉 both his parents and his grandmother embrac••d c••ristia••ity, by which means young Timothy was taught the precepts of the gospel from his infancy.

St. P••••L coming to Lycaonia, ordained Timo|thy, and 〈…〉〈…〉 him the companion of his pi|ous labours. It appear••, that while he attended the 〈…〉〈…〉 could be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 equalled by his 〈…〉〈…〉 mentio••s him with peculiar respect, 〈…〉〈…〉 that he could find none so truly 〈…〉〈…〉 and mind, as Timothy. Indeed, the apostle, upon various oc|casions, speaks of him in the most affectionate terms, which is a sufficient proof of his great merit, and evinces, that he was a disinterested and diligent ser|vant of Christ.

TIMOTHY attended St. Paul to Macedonia, and there with the apostle and Silas, he laboured with assiduity in the propagation of the gospel. When St. Paul went to Achaia, Timothy was left behind to strengthen the faith of those already con|verted, or to induce others to quit the darkness of ignorance for the light of gospel knowledge.

AT length St. Paul sent for Timothy to A|thens, and then dispatched him to Thessalonica, to strengthen the suffering christians there against the terrors of the persecution which then raged.

WHEN Timothy arrived at the place of his des|tination, he did all that a zealous christian could for the service of his Redeemer. Having performed his mission, he returned to Athens, and there assisted St. Paul and Silas, in composing the two epistles to the Thessalonians. He then accompanied St. Paul to Corinth, Jerusalem, and Ephesus.

AFTER performing several other commissions for St. Paul, and attending him upon various other journeys, the apostle constituted him bishop of E|phesus, though he was only thirty years of age; and in two admirable epistles gave him proper instructions for his conduct in so important a charge.

TIMOTHY was so very temporate in his living, that St. Paul blames him for being too abstemious, and recommends to him the moderate use of wine to recruit his strength and spirits.

ST. Paul sent to Timothy while he was in his last confinement at Rome to come to him; and, after that great apostle's martyrdom, he returned to Ephesus, where he zealously governed the church till A. D. 97. At this period the Pagans were about to celebrate a feast called Catagogion, the principal ceremonies of which were, that the people should carry battons in their hands, go masked, and bear about the streets the images of their gods.

TIMOTHY, meeting the procession, severely re|proved them for their ridiculous idolatry, which so exasperated the people, that they fell upon him with their clubs, and beat him in so dreadful a manner, that he expired of the bruises two days after.

An Account of the Third Primitive Persecu|tion under the Roman Emperors.

NERVA succeeding Domitian, gave a respite to the christians; but reigning only thirteen months, his successor, Trajan, in the 10th year of his reign, and in A. D. 108, began the third per|secution against the christians. While the perse|cution raged, Plinius Secundus, a heathen Philoso|pher, wrote to the emperor in favour of the chris|tians; to whose epistle Trajan returned this inde|cisive answer, "The christians ought not to be sought after, but when brought before the magistracy, they should be punished."

THIS absurd reply made Tertullian exclaim in the following words: "O confused sentence! he would not have them sought for as innocent, and yet would have them punished as guilty." The emperor's incoherent answer, however, occasioned the persecution in some measure to abate, as his officers were uncertain if they carried it on with severity, how he might chuse to wrest his own meaning. Trajan, however, soon after wrote to Jerusalem, and gave orders to his officers to exter|minate the stock of David; in consequence of which, ail that could be found of that race were put to death.

SYMPHOROSA, a widow, and her seven sons, were commanded by the emperor to sacrifice to the heathen deities. Unanimously refusing to comply with such an impious request, the emperor, in a rage told her, that for her obstinacy herself, and her sons, should be slain, to appease the wrath of his offended deities: to which she answered, that if he murdered her and her children, the idols he adored would only be held in the greatest detesta|tion.

THE emperor being greatly exasperated at this, ordered her to be carried to the temple of Hercules, where she was scourged, and hung up, for some time, by the hair of her head; then being taken down, a large stone was fastened to her neck, and she was thrown into the river, where she expired. With respect to the sons, they were fastened to seven posts, and being drawn up by pullies, their limbs were dislocated; these tortures, not affecting their resolution, they were thus martyred; Cre|sentius, the eldest, was stabbed in the throat; Ju|lian, the second, in the breast; Nemesius, the third, in the heart; Primit••us, the fourth, in the naval; Justice, the fifth, in the back; Stacteus, the sixth, in the side; and Eugenius, the youngest, was sawed asunder.

PHOCAS, bishop of Pontus, refusing to sacri|fice to Neptune, was, by the immediate order of Trajan, cast first into a hot lime-kiln, and being drawn from thence, was thrown into a scalding bath till he expired.

TRAJAN likewise commanded the martyrdom of Ignatius, bishop of Antioch. This holy man was the person whom, when an infant, Christ took in his arms, and shewed to his disciples, as one that would be a pattern of humility and innocence. He received the gospel afterwards from St. John the Evangelist, and was exceedingly zealous in his mis|sion. He boldly vindicated the faith of Christ before the emperor, for which being cast into prison, he was tormented in a most cruel manner; for after being dreadfully scourged, he was compelled to hold fire in his hands, and at the same time, papers dipped in oil were put to his sides, and set on light. His flesh was then torn with red hot pincers, and at last he was dispatched by being torn to pieces by wild beasts.

TRAJAN being succeeded by Adrian, the latter continued this third persecution with as much seve|rity as his predecessor. About this time Alexan|der, bishop of Rome, with his two deacons, were martyred; as were Quirinus and Hermes, with their families; Zenon, a Roman nobleman, and about ten thousand other christians.

IN Mount Ararat many were crucified, crowned

with thorns, and spears run into their sides, in imitation of Christ's passion. Eustachius, a brave and successful Roman commander, was by the em|peror ordered to join in an idolatrous sacrifice to ce|lebrate some of his own victories▪ but his faith (being a christian in his heart) was so much greater that his vanity, that he nobly refused it. Enraged at the denial, the ungrateful emperor forgot the services of this skilful commander, and ordered him and his whole family to be martyred.

AT the martydom of Faustines and Jovita, bro|thers and citizens of Bressia, their torments were so many, and their patience so great, that Caloce|rius, a Pagan, beholding them, was struck with admiration, and exclaimed in a kind of extasy, "Great is the God of the christians!" for which he was apprehended, and suffered a similar fate.

MANY other similar cruelties and rigours were exercised against the christians, till Quadratus, bi|shop of Athens, made a learned apology in their favour before the emperor, who happened to be there; and Aristides, a philosopher of the same city, wrote an elegant epistle, which caused Adrian to relax in his severities, and relent in their favour. He indeed went so far as to command that no chris|tian should be punished on the score of religion or opinion only; but this gave other handles against them to the Jews and Pagans, for then they began to employ and suborn false witnesses, to accuse them of crimes against the state, or civil authority.

ADRIAN dying, in the year A. D. 138, was succeeded by Antoninus Pius, one of the most ami|able monarchs that ever reigned; for his people gave him a title which he justly deserved, viz. The Father of Virtues. Immediately upon his accession to the imperial throne, he published an edict, for|bidding any farther persecutions against the chris|tians, and concluded it in these words: "If any hereafter shall vex or trouble the christians, having no other cause but that they are such, let the accu|sed be released, and the accusers be punished." This stopped the persecution, and the christians en|joyed a respite from their sufferings during this emperor's reign, though their enemies took every occasion to do them what injuries they could in an underhand manner.

An Account of the Fourth Primitive Persecu|tion under the Roman Emperors, which commenced A. D. 162.

ANTONINUS PIUS was succeeded by Mar|cus Aurelius Antoninus Philosophus, who, being a strong Pagan, began the fourth persecution, in which many christians were martyred, particu|larly in several parts of Asia, and in France.

THE cruelties used in this persecution were such, that many of the spectators shuddered with horror at the sight, and were astonished at the intrepidity of the sufferers. Some of the martyrs were obli|ged to pass with their already wounded feet, over thorns, nails, sharp shells, &c. with their points; others were scourged till their sinews and veins lay bare; and after suffering the most excruciating tor|tures that could be devised, they were destroyed by the most terrible deaths.

GERMANICUS, a young man, but true chris|tian, being delivered to the wild beasts on account of his faith, behaved with such astonishing cou|rage, that several Pagans became converts to a faith which inspired such fortitude. This enraged others so much, that they cried he merited death, as they did also of Polycarp, the pious and venerable bi|shop of Smyrna.

POLYCARP, hearing that persons were after him to apprehend him, escaped, but was discover|ed by a child. From this circumstance, and hav|ing dreamed that his bed suddenly became on fire, and was consumed in a moment, he concluded that it was God's will that he should seal his faith with martyrdom. He therefore would not attempt to make a second escape when he had an opportunity of so doing. Those who apprehended him, were amazed at his serene countenance, and comely gra|vity. After feasting them, he desired an hour in prayer, which being allowed, he prayed with such fervency, that his guards repented they had been instrumental in taking him. He was, however, carried before the pro-consul, condemned, and conducted to the market-place. Wood being pro|vided, the holy man earnestly prayed to heaven, after being bound to the stake; and as the flames grew vehement, the tormentors gave way to each

side, the heat now becoming intolerable. In the mean time the bishop sung praises to God in the midst of the flames, but remained unconsumed therein, and the burning of the wood spreading a fragrancy around, the guards were much surprized. Determined, however, to put an end to his life, the struck spears into his body, when the quantity of blood that issued from the wounds extinguished the flames. After considerable attempts, however, they put him to death, and burnt his body when dead, not being able to consume it while living. The twelve other christians, who had been intimate with Polycarp, were soon after martyred.

METRODORUS, a minister, who preached boldly; and Pionius, who made some excellent apologies for the christian faith, were likewise burnt. Carpus and Papilus, two worthy christians, and Agathonica, a pious woman, suffered martyrdom at Pargamopolis, in Asia.

FELICITATUS, an illustrious Roman lady of a considerable family, and the most shining vir|tues, was a devout christian. She had seven sons, whom she had educated with the most exemplary piety. The empire having been, about this time, grievously troubled with earthquakes, famine, in|undations, &c. the christians were accused as the cause, and Felicitatis was included in the accu|sation. The lady and her family being seized, the emperor gave orders to Publius, the Roman gover|nor of Rome, to proceed against her.

PUBLIUS began with the mother, thinking that if he could prevail with her to change her religion, the example would have great influence with her sons. Finding her inflexible, he turned his intreaties to menaces, and threatened her with destruction to herself and family. She despised his threats as she had done his promises; on which he changed his battery, and began with the sons, whom he exa|mined separately. They all, however, remained stedfast in their faith, and unanimous in their opi|nions, on which the whole family were ordered for execution.

JANUARINS, the eldest, was scourged, and pressed to death with weights; Felix and Philip, the two next, h••d their brains dashed out with clubs; Syl|vanus, the fourth, was murdered by being thrown from a precipice; and the three younger sons, viz. Alexander, Vitalis, and Martial, were all behead|ed. With respect to the mother, she suffered the same fate, and was beheaded with the same sword as the three latter.

JUSTIN, the celebrated philosopher, fell a martyr in this persecution. He was a native of Neapolis, in Samaria, and was born A. D. 103. He had the best education those times could afford, and travelled into Egypt, the country where the po|lite tour of that age was made for improvement. At Alexandria he was informed of every thing re|lative to the seventy interpreters of the sacred wri|tings, and shewn the rooms, or rather cells in which their work was performed. Justin was a great lo|ver of truth, and an universal scholar; he investi|gated the Stoic and Peripatetic philosophy, and at|tempted the Pythagorean; but the behaviour of one of its professors disgusting him, he applied himself to the Platonic, in which he took great delight. About the year 133, when he was thirty years of age, he became a convert to christianity, and then, for the first time, perceived the real nature of truth.

HE wrote an elegant epistle to the Gentiles, to convert them to the faith he had newly acquired, and lived in so ••ure and innocent a manner, that it was evident he merited the title of a christian phi|losopher.

HE employed his talents in convincing the Jews of the truth of the christian rites, and spent a great deal of time in travelling, till he took up his abode in Rome, and fixed his habitation upon the Viminal mount.

HE kept a public school, taught many who af|terwards became great men, and wrote a treatise to confute heresies of all kinds. As the Pagans be|gan to treat the christians with great severity, Jus|tin wrote his first apology in their favour, and ad|dressed it to the ••mperor, to two princes whom he adopted as his sons, and to the senate and people of Rome in general. This piece displays great learn|ing and genius, is written with a manly elegance, and occasioned the emperor to publish an edict in favour of the christians.

Soon after he entered into frequent contests with Crescens, a person of a vicious life and conversa|tion, but a celebrated cynic philosopher; and his arguments appeared so powerful, yet disgusting to the cynic, that he resolved on, and in the sequel accomplished, his destruction.

JUSTIN'S second apology was occasioned by the following circumstances: a man and his wife, who were both bad livers, resided at Rome. The wo|man, however, becoming a convert to christianity, attempted to reclaim her husband: but not succeed|ing, she sued for a divorce, which so exasperated him, that he accused her of being a christian. Up|on her petition, however, he dropped the prosecu|tion, and levelled his malice at Ptolemeus, who had converted her. Ptolemeus was condemned to die; and one Lucius, with another person, met with the same fate, for expressing themselves too freely upon the occasion.

THE apology of Justin, upon these severities, gave Crescens the cynic an opportunity of preju|dicing the emperor against the writer of it: upon which Justin, and six of his companions, were ap|prehended. Being commanded as usual to deny their faith, and sacrifice to the Pagan idols, they absolutely refused to do either; on their refusal, they were condemned to be first scourged, and then beheaded; which sentence was executed with all imaginable severity.

OF the writings of this celebrated martyr, and great philosopher, only seven pieces are now extant, viz. The two Apologies. An Exhortation to the Gentiles. An Oration to the Greeks. A Trea|tise on Divine Monarchy. A Dialogue with Try|pho the Jew, and an Epistle to Diagnetus.

SEVERAL were beheaded for refusing to sacrifice to the image of Jupiter; in particular Concordus, a deacon of the city of Spoleto, being carried be|fore the image, and ordered to worship it, not on|ly refused, but spit in its face; for which he was severely tormented, and afterwards had his head cut off with a sword.

SOME of the no••thern nations being in arms against Rome, the emperor marched to encounter them. He was, however, drawn into an ambus|cade, and dreaded the loss of his whole army. En|veloped with mountains, surrounded by enemies, and perishing with thirst, the troops were driven to the last extremities. All the Pagan deities were invoked in vain; when the men belonging to the militine, or thundering legion, who were all chris|tians, were commanded to call upon their God for succour: they immediately withdrew from the rest, prostrated themselves upon the earth, and prayed fervently. A miraculous deliverance immediately ensued; a prodigious quantity of rain fell, which being caught by the men, and filling the dykes, af|forded a sudden and astonishing relief. The em|peror, in his epistle to the Roman Senate, wherein the expedition is described, after mentioning the difficulties to which he had been driven, thus speaks of the christians.

"When I saw myself not able to encounter with the enemies, I craved aid of our country gods; but finding no relief at their hands, and being cooped up by the enemy, I caused those men, whom we call christians, to be sent for; who being mus|tered, I found a considerable number of them, against whom I was more incensed than I had just cause, as I found afterwards: for, by a marvellous power, they forthwith used their endeavours, not with ammunition, drums, and trumpets, abhorring such preparations and furniture, but only praying unto, and trusting in their God, whom they carry a|bout with them in their consciences. It is therefore to be believed, although we call them wicked men, that they worship God in their hearts; for they, falling prostrate on the ground, prayed, not only for me, but for the army which was also with me, beseeching God to help me in that our extreme want of victuals and fresh water (for we had been five days without water, and in our enemies land, even in the midst of Germany); I say falling upon their faces, they prayed to a God unknown to me, and im|mediately thereupon fell from heaven a most pleasant and cool shower; but amongst our enemies great store of hail, mixed with thunder and lightning: so that we soon perceived the invincible aid of the most mighty God to be with us therefore we give these men leave to profess christianity, lest, by their prayers, we be punished by the like: and I there|by make myself the author of all the evil that shall

accrue by the persecution of the christian religion." It appears, that the storm which so miraculously flashed in the faces of the enemy so intimidated them, that part deserted to the Roman army; the rest were with ease defeated, and the revolted provinces were entirely recovered.

THIS affair occasioned the persecution to subside for some time, at least in those parts, immediately under the inspection of the emperor; for we find that it soon after raged in France, particularly at Lyons, where the tortures, to which many of the christians were put, almost exceed the powers of de|scription. The aspersions, false accusations, taunts, threats, revilings, menacings, which were but fore|runners to all manner of punishments, torments, and painful deaths; such as being banished, plun|dered, hanged, burnt, &c. and even the servants and slave of opulent christians were racked and tor|tured, to make them accuse their masters and em|ployers. The principal of these martyrs were the following:

VETIUS AGATHUS, a young man, who having boldly pleaded the christian cause, was ask|ed if he was a christian? To which answering in the affirmative, he was condemned to death, and received the crown of martyrdom accordingly. Many, animated by this young man's intrep••••ity, boldly owned their faith, and suffered as he had done.

BLANDINIA, a christian, but of a weak con|stitution, being seized and tortured upon the ac|count of her religion, received so much strength from heaven, that her torturers became tired fre|quently, and were surprised at her being able to bear her torments with such resolution, and for so great a length of time.

SANCTUS, a deacon of Vienna, was put to the torture, which he bore with great fortitude, and only cried, "I am a christian." Red hot plates of brass were placed upon those parts of the body that were tenderest, which contracted the sinews: but he remaining inflexible was re-conducted to prison. Being brought out from his place of confinement a few days afterwards▪ his tormentors were astonish|ed to find his wounds healed, and his person as per|fect as before they tormented him: they, however, again proceeded to torture him; but not being able, at that time, to take away a life which was miracu|lously preserved, they only remanded him to prison, where he remained for some time after; and having had this respite, received the crown of martyrdom by being beheaded.

BIBLIAS, a weak woman, had been an apostate, but having returned to the faith was martyred, and bore her sufferings with great patience. Attalus, of Pergamus, was another sufferer; and Pothinus, the venerable bishop of Lyons, who was ninety years of age, was so unmercifully treated by the enraged pagan mob, that he expired two days 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the prison.

WHEN the christians, upon these occasio••••, re|ceived martyrdom, they were ornamented, and crowned with garlands of flowers; for which they, in heaven, received eternal crowns of glory.

THE torments were various; and, exclusive of those already mentioned, the martyrs of Lyons were compelled to sit in red hot iron chairs till their flesh broiled. This was inflicted with pcculiar severity on Sanctus already mentioned, and some others. Some were sewed up in nets, and thrown on the horns of wild bulls; and the carcases of those who died in prison, previous to the appointed time of execution, were thrown to dogs. Indeed, so far did the malice of the pagans proceed, that they set guards over the bodies while the beasts were de|vouring them, least the friends of the deceased should get them away by stealth; and the off••ls left by the dogs were ordered to be burnt.

THE martyr•• of Lyons, according to the best ac|counts we could obtain, who suffered for the gos••pel, were forty-eight in number, and their execu|tions happened in the year of Christ 177. They all died with great fortitude and serenity of mind, evidently ••vincing, that they preferred the everlast|ing pleasures of an immor••al and happy life, to the transitory scenes of one that was precarious, dashed with afflictions, and at best but short and ••leeting.

BESIDES the above ma••tyrs of Lyons, who are usually enumerated tog••ther, some others suffered

in that city, and in different parts of the empire, soon after. Of these the principal were:

EPIPODIUS and ALEXANDER, celebrated for their great friendship, and their christian union with each other. The first was born at Lyons, the latter in Greece; they were of mutual assistance to each other, and prepared themselves for receiving a crown of martyrdom in this world, and a crown of glory in the next, by the continual practice of all manner of christian virtues.

WHEN the persecution began first to rage at Ly|ons, they were in the prime of life, and to avoid the effects of its severities, they thought proper to with|draw to a neighbouring village. Here they were, for some time, concealed by a christian widow, whose piety protected, while her obscurity gave a sanction to their retreat.

AS they were eminent persons, the malice of their persecutors sought after them with indefatigable industry, and pursued them to their place of con|cealment with unremitting assiduity. Dragged from their retirement, they were committed to pri|son without examination; but their misfortun••s did not oppress their spirits; for, shielded by the gospel, they were secure against the woes incident to this life.

BEING, at the expiration of three days, brought before the governor, they were examined in the pre|sence of a crowd of Pagans. They confessed the divinity of Christ, when the governor being enraged at what he termed their insolence, absurdly said, "What signifies all the former executions, if some yet remain who dare acknowledge Christ."

HAVING separated them, that they should not con|sole with, or fortify each other, he began to tamper with Epipodius, the youngest of the two. With a dissembled kindness, he preten••ed to pity his con|dition, and intreated him not ••o ruin himself by obstinacy. "Our ••eities (contin••ed he) are wor|shipped by the greater part of the people in the universe, and their rulers; we adore them with feasting and mirth, while you adore a crucified man; we, to honour them, launch into pleasures; you, by your faith, are debarred from all that indulges the senses. Our religion enjoins feasting, your's fast|ing; our's the joys of licentious blandishments, your's the barren virtue of chastity. Can you ex|pect protection from one, who could not secure himself from the persecutions of a contemptible people? Then quit a profession of such austerity, and enjoy those gratifications which the world af|fords, and which your youthful years demand."

TO this illusive harangue Epipodius replied; he contemned his compassion, as a heart full of faith could not want it. "Your pretended tenderness (said he) is actual cruelty; and the agreeable life you describe, is replete with everlasting death. Christ suffered for us, that our pleasures should be immortal, and hath prepared for his followers an eternity of bliss. The frame of man being com|posed of two parts, body and soul; the first, as mean and perishable, should be rendered subservient to the interests of the last. Your idolatrous feasts may gratify the mortal, but they injure the immor|tal part: that cannot therefore be enjoying life, which destroys the most valuable mo••ety of your frame. Your pleasures lead to eternal death, and our pains to perpetual happiness."

FOR this manly and rational speech, Epipodius was severely beaten, and then put to the rack, upo•• which being stretched, his flesh was torn with iron hooks. Having borne his torments with incredi|ble patience, and unshaken fortitude, he was taken from the rack, and beheaded.

ALEXANDER, the companion of Epipodius, was brought before the judge, two days after the ex|ecution of that excellent young man. On his absolute refusal to renounce christianity, he was placed upon the rack, and beat by three executioners, who re|lieved each other alternately. He bore his suffer|ings with as much fortitude as his friend had done, and at length received the conclusion of his glorious martyrdom, by being crucified. These martyrs suffered A, D. 179; the first on the 20th of April, and the other on the 22d of the same month.

VALERIAN and MARCELLUS, who were nearly related to each other, were imprisoned at Lyons, in the year 177, for being christians. By some means, however, of which we are not inform+ed,

they made their escape, and travelled different ways.

MARCELLUS made several converts in the territo|ries of Besançon and Chalons, but being apprehend|ed, was carried before Priscus, the gover•••••• of those parts.

THAT magistrate, knowing Marcellus to be a christian, ordered him to be fastened to some branches of a tree, which were drawn down for that purpose. When he was tied to different branches, they were let go, with a design that the suddenness of the jerks might tear him to pieces.

THIS invention failing in its proposed end, he was conducted to Chalons, to be present at some idolatrous sacrifices, at which, refusing to assist, he was put to the torture, and afterwards fixed up to the waist in the ground; in which position, after remaining three days, he expired, A. D. 179.

VALERIAN was soon after apprehended, and, by the order of Priscus, was first brought to the rack, and then beheaded in the same year as his friend and relation.

MUCH about the same time the following martyrs suffered, but we have not any circumstantial or par|ticular account of their death.

BENIGNUS, at Dijon; Speusippus, and others at Langres; Androches, Thyrseus, and Fexlic, at Salieu; Sympoviam and Florella, at Antun; Se|verinus, Felician, and Exuperus, at Vienna; Ce|cilia, the virgin, at Sicily;, and Thraseus, bishop of Phrygia, at Smyrna.

ANTONINUS the emperor dying, was succeeded A. D. 180, by his son Commodus, who did not seem to copy his father in any particular. He had neither his virtues nor his vices: he was without his learning and morality, and, at the same time, without his prejudices against christianity. His principal foible was pride, and to that we chiefly ascribe the errors of his reign; for having taken it into his head to fancy himself Hercules, he sacrificed those to his vanity, who refused to subscribe to his absurdity.

APOLLONIUS, a Roman senator, became a martyr in his reign. This eminent person was, at once skilled in all the polite literature of those times, and in all the purest precepts taught by our blessed Redeemer. He was, indeed, an accomplished gen|tleman, and a sincere christian.

THIS worthy person was accused by his own slave Severus, upon an unjust and contradictory, but un|repealed edict, of the emperor Trajan's. This in|consistent law condemned the accused to die, unless he recanted his opinion; and, at the same time, ordered the execution of the accuser for ca|lumny.

UPON this ridiculous statute was Apollonius ac|cused; for though his slave Severus knew he must die for the accusation, yet such was his diabolical malice, and desire of revenge, that he courted death in order to involve his master in ruin.

THE accused Apollonius refusing to recant his opinions, was, by order of his peers, the Roman senators, to whom he had appealed, condemned to be beheaded. The sentence was executed on the 18th day of April, A. D. 186, his accuser having previously had his legs broken, and been put to death.

EUSEBIUS, VINCENTIUS, POTENTIA|NUS, and PEREGRINUS, were all martyred, for refusing to worship Commodus as Hercules.

JULIUS, a Roman senator, becoming a convert to christianity, was ordered, by the emperor, to sa|crifice to him as Hercules. This Julius absolutely refused, and publicly professed himself a christian. On this account, after remaining in prison a consi|derable time, he was in the year 190, pursuant to his sentence, beat to death with cudgels. Virtue, whose essence is religicn, supported him, however, to the last, and he died a glorious martyr to the truth.

An Account of the Fifth general Pers••cution, under the Roman Emperors.

THE emperor Commodus dying in the year 191, was succeeded by the short-reigned Pertina••••; and he was again succeeded by the still shorter-reign|ed Julianus. On the death of the last, in the year 192, Severus became emperor.

SEVERUS having been recovered from a severe fit of sickness by a christian, became a great favourer of christians in general; and even permitted his son Caracalla to be nursed by a female christian. Hence, during the reigns of the two emperors already men|tioned, who successively succeeded Commodus, and some years of the latter's reign, the christians were not persecuted; for we find that they had a respite of several years.

AT length, however, the prejudice and fury of the ignorant multitude prevailed, and obsolete laws were revived, and put in execution against the chr••st|ians.

THE progress of christianity alarmed the pagans, and they revived the state calumny of placing acci|dental misfortunes to the account of its professors. Fire, sword, scourges, wild beasts, and cruel im|prisonments, were now used; and even the dead bodies of christians were torn from their graves with pagan prejudice, to be mangled by popular fury.

BUT though pers••cuting malice raged, yet the gospel shone with resplendent brightness; and firm as an impragnable rock, withstood the attacks of its boisterous enimies with success. Tertullian, who lived in this age, informs us, that if the christians had collectively withdrawn themselves from the Ro|man territories, the empire would have been great|ly depopulated.

VICTOR, bishop of Rome, suffered martyrdom in the first year of the third century, viz. A D. 201, though the circumstances are not particular••••zed.

LEONIDAS, the father of the celebrated Ori|g••n, was beheaded for being a christian. Previous to the execution, the son, in order to encourage him, wrote to him in these remarkable words: "Be|ware, sir, that your care for us does not make you change your resolution." Many of Origen's hea|rers likewise suffered martyrdom; particularly two brothers, named Plutarchus and Serenus: another Serenus, Heron, and Heraclides, were beheaded; Rhais had boiling pitch poured upon her head, and was then burnt, as was Marcella her mother.

POTAMIENA, the sister of Rhais, was exe|cuted in the same manner as Rhais had been; but Basalides, an officer belonging to the army, and one ordered to attend her execution, became her convert.

BASILIDES being, as an officer, required to take a certain oath, refused, saying, that he could not sware by the Roman idols, as he was a christian. Struck with surprise, the people could not, at first, believe what they heard; but he had no sooner con|firmed the same, than he was dragged before the judge, committed to prison, and speedily afterwards beheaded.

IRENAEUS, bishop of Lyons, was born in Greece, and received both a polite and a christian education. It is generally supposed, that the ac|count of the persecutions at Lyons was written by himself. He succeeded the martyr Pothinus as bishop of Lyons, and ruled his diocese with great propriety: he was a zealous opposer of heresies in general, and about A. D. 187, wrote a celebrated tract against heresy.

VICTOR, the bishop of Rome, wanting to im|pose the mode of keeping Easter there, above all other places, it ocasioned some disorders among the christians, in particular, Irenaeus wrote him a syno|dical epistle, in the name of the Gallic churches. This zeal, in favour of christianity, pointed him out as an object of resentment to the emperor; and in A. D. 202, he was accordingly beheaded.

THE persecutions now extending to Africa, many were martyred in that quarter of the globe; the most particular of whom we shall mention.

PERPETUA, a married lady, of about twenty-two

years of age, with a young sucking child at her brest, was seized upon for being a christian.

DURING her confinement, the father, who ten|derly loved her, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to console with her; and at the same time would fain have persuaded her to re|nounce christianity. Perpetua, however, preserv|ing all the respect due to a parent, maintained the character of a christian.

HER resolution so much incensed her father, that he beat her unmercifully, and did not visit her for some days after. This gave her, and some others who were confined at the same time, an opportuni|ty of being baptized, as they were before only Ca|techumens.

BEING carried before the pro-consul Minutius, she was commanded to sacrifice to idols; but refu|sing, she was ordered to a dark dungeon. The gloom of this place was of itself disagreeable, but the being deprived of her child was much more so. Two deacons, however, Tertius and Pomponius, who had the care of persecuted christians, procured her some few hours daily to breath the fresh air, during which time she had the satisfaction of being allowed to suckle her child. Foreseeing, however, that she should not long be permitted to take care of it, she recommended it strongly to her mother's care.

THE father of Perpetua paid her a second visit, and again besought her to renounce christianity. His behavour now was all paternal tenderness, and endearing humanity. If any thing worldly could have softened her, this would; but inflexible to all things but Christ, she knew she must leave every thing for his sake; and she only said to him, "God's will must be done." With an heart almost bursting he left her, and found his only consolation in his tears.

ON her trial, Perpetua gave the strongest proofs of fortitude, though of a sex naturally timorous; and exhibited to her friends, as well as a great num|ber of spectators, an amazing strength of mind.

THE judge, at the same time, intreated her to consider her father's tears, her infant's helplessness, and her own life; but triumphing over the softer sentiments of nature, she forgot the ideas of both mental and corporeal pain; and determined to sa|crifice all the feelings of human sensibility, to that immortality offered by Christ. In vain did they at|tempt to persuade her, that their offers were gentle, and her own religion severe.

FINDING that she must die, the father's parental tenderness returned, and in the fury of his anxiety, he attempted to carry her off; an which account he received a severe blow from one of the officers. Irritated at this, the daughter shewed that she had not lost all natural sentiments of filial duty; for she immediately declared, that she felt that blow more severely, than if she had received it herself. Being conducted back to prison, she remained for the day of execution, when several other persons were to be executed with her, of whom we must now pro|ceed to give an account.

FILICITAS, a married christian lady, was big with child at the time of her being apprehended. The procurator, when he examined her, begged that she would have some pity upon herself, and the child within her, and consider the condition she was in, but she replied, that his compassion was thrown away, for no thought of self-preservation could ever induce her to submit to any idolatrous terms. She was delivered in prison of a girl, which was adopted by a christian woman as her own, and brought up by her accordingly.

REVOCATUS was a Catechuman of Carthage, and a slave. The names of the other prisoners, who were to suffer upon this occasion, were Satur|nius, Secundulus, and Satur.

ON the day appointed for the execution, they were led to the amphitheatre. Satur, Saturninus, and Revocatus, being bould enough to denounce God's judement upon their persecutors, they were ordered to run the gantelope between the hunters, or such as had the care of the wild beasts. The hunters being drawn up in two ranks, they ran be|tween, and were severely lashed as they passed.

FELICITAS and Perpetua were stripped, in order to be thrown to a mad bull; but some of the spec|tators,

through decency, desired that they might be permitted to put on their cloaths, which was com|plied with.

THE bull made his first attack upon Perpetua, and stunned her: he then attacked Felicitas, and wounded her much; but not killing them, the exe|cutioner did that office with a sword. Revocatus and Satur were destroyed by wil•• beasts; Saturni|nus was beheaded; and Secundulus died in prison. These executions were in the year 205, on the 8th day of March.

SPERATUS, and twelve others, were likewise beheaded: as was Ando••lus in France. Aclepia|des, bishop of Antioch, suffered many tortures, but his life was spared.

CECILIA, a young lady of a good family in Rome, was married to a gentleman named Vale|rian. Being a christian herself, she soon persuaded her husband to embrace the same faith; and his con|version was speedily followed by that of his brother Tiburtius.

THESE things drew upon them all the vengeance of the civil magistrate: the two brothers were be|headed; and the maximus, or officer, who led them to execution, becoming their convert, suffered the same fate.

THE lady being apprehended, was doomed to death; the manner of which was thus: she was placed naked in a scalding bath, and having con|tinued there a considerable time, her head was struck off with a sword, A. D. 222.

CALISTUS, bishop of Rome, was martyred A. D. 224; but the manner of his death is not re|corded: and Urban, bishop of Rome, met the same fate, A. D. 232.

AGAPETUS, a boy of Praeneste, in Italy, who was only fifteen years of age, absolutely refu|sing to sacrifice to the idols, was severely scourged, and then hanged up by the feet, and boiling water poured over him. He was afterwards worried by wild beasts, and at last beheaded. The officer, named Antiochus, who superintended this execu|tion, while it was performing, fell suddenly from his judicial seat, cried out that his bowels burnt him, and expired; feeling miraculously, in this world, a sample of the torments due to such cruel|ty in the next: while the martyr patiently suffered, in hopes of a glorious resurrection.

An Account of the Sixth general Persecution, under the Roman Emperors.

IN A. D. 235, Maximinus being emperor, he raised a persecution against the christians. In Cappadocia, the president, Seremianus, did all he could to exterminate the christians from that pro|vince.

A ROMAN SOLDIER, refusing to wear a laurel crown bestowed on him by the emperor, and confessing himself a christian, was scourged, im|prisoned, and afterwards put to death.

PONTIANUS, bishop of Rome, for preach|ing against idolatry, was banished to Sardinia, and there slain.

ANTEROS, a Grecian, who succeeded the last-mentioned bishop in the see of Rome, gave so much offence to the government, by collecting the acts of the martyrs, that he suffered martyrdom himself, after having held his dignity only forty days.

PAMMACHIUS, a Roman Senator, with his family and other christians, to the number of for|ty-two, were, on account of their religion, all be|headed in one day, and their heads set up on the city gates.

SIMPLICIUS, another senator, met with ex|actly the same fate.

CALEPODIUS, a christian minister, after be|ing inhumanly treated, and barbarously dragged about the streets, had a mill-stone fastened about his neck, and was thrown into the river Tyber.

QUIRITUS, a Roman nobleman, with his family and domestics, were, on account of being

all christians, put to the most excruciating tortures, and then to the most painful deaths. Thus this nobleman suffered the confiscation of his effects, poverty, revilings, imprisonment, scourgings, tor|tures, and loss of his life, for the sake of his bles|sed Redeemer.

MARTINA, a noble and beautiful virgin, like|wise suffered martyrdom for the sake of Christ, be|ing variously tortured, and afterwards beheaded.

HIPPOLITUS, a christian prelate, was tied to a wild horse, and dragged through fields, stony pla|ces, bushes, &c. till he expired.

DURING this persecution raised by Maximinus, numberless christians were slain without trial, and buried indiscriminately in heaps; sometimes fifty or sixty being cast into a pit together, without the least decency.

THE tyrant Maximinus dying, A. D. 238, was succeeded by Gordian, during whose reign, and that of his successor Philip, the church was free from persecution for the space of more than ten years; but A. D. 249, a violent persecution broke out in Alexandria. It is to be observed, however, that this was done at the instigation of a Pagan priest, without the knowledge of the emperor.

THE popular fury being let loose against the christians, the mob broke open their houses, stole away the best of their property, destroyed the rest, and murdered the owners: the universal cry being, "Burn them, burn them; Kill them, kill them." The names of the martyrs, (three excepted) and the partic••lars of this affair, however, have not been transmitted to posterity.

THE three martyrs alluded to were the following:

METUS, an aged and venerable christian, refusing to blaspheme his Saviour, was beaten with clubs, pricked with sharp ••eeds, and at length sto|ned to death.

QUINTA, a christian woman, being carried to the temple, and refusing to worship the idols there, was dragged by her feet over sharp flint•• stones, scourged with whips, and at last dispatched in the same manner as Metus.

APOLLONIA, an ancient maiden lady, con|fessing herself a christian, the mob dashed out her 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with their fists, and threatened to burn her alive. A fire was accordingly prepared for the pur|pose, and she fastened to a stake; but requesting to be unloosed, it was granted on a supposition that she meant to recant, when to their great surprize, she immediately threw herself into the flames, and was there consumed, which plainly evinced that she contemned the fears of death, and trusted to a last|ing future reward, for a temporary punishment in this life.

An Account of the Seventh general Persecu|tion, under the Roman Emperors.

DECIUS being now emperor of Rome, began a dreadful persecution against the christians, A. D. 249. This was occasioned, partly by the hatred he bore to his predecessor Philip, who was deemed a christian, and partly to his jealousy con|cerning the amazing increase of christianity; for the heathen temples began to be forsaken, and the christian churches throng••.

THESE reasons stimulated Decius to attempt the very extirpation of the name of christian; and it was unfortunate for the cause of the gospel, that many errors had, about this time, crept into the church: the christians were at variance with each other; self-interest divided those whom social love ought to have united; and the virulence of pride occasioned a variety of factions.

THE heathens in general were ambitious to en|force the imperial decrees upon this occasion, and looked upon the murder of a christian as a merit in themselves. The martyrs, upon this occasion, were innumerable; but the principal we shall give some account of in order.

FABIAN, the bishop of Rome, was the first per|son of eminence who felt the severity of this perse|cution. The deceased emperor Philip had, on ac|count

of his integrity, committed his treasure to the care of this good man. But Decius, not finding as much as his avarice made him expect, determined to wreak his vengeance on the good prelate. He was accordingly seized; and on the 20th of Janua|ry, A. D. 250, suffered martyrdom, by being be|headed.

ABDON and Semen, two Persians, were seized on as strangers; but being found christians, were put to death, on account of their faith; and Moyses, a priest, was beheaded for the same reason.

JULIAN, a native of Cilicia, as we are informed by St. Chrysostom, was seized upon for being a christian. He was frequently tortured, but still re|mained inflexible; and though often brought from prison for execution, was again remanded, ••o be the object of greater cruelties. He, at length, was obliged to travel for twelve months together, from town to town, in order to be exposed to the insults of the ignorant populace.

FINDING the endeavours to make him recant his religion ineffectual, he was brought before his judge, stripped, and whipped in a most dreadful manner. He was pu•• into a leather bag, together with a number of serp••nts and sco••pions, and in that condition thrown into the sea.

PETER, a young man, amiable for the superior qualities of his body and mind, was apprehended for being a christian, at Lampsacus, or the Helles|pont, and carried before Optimus, pro-consul of Asia.

BEING commanded to sacrifice to Venus, he said, "I am astonished that you should wish me to sacrifice to an infamous woman, whose debaucheries even your own historians record, and whose life consisted of such actions, as your laws would punish.—No! I shall offer the true God the acceptable sacrifice of praises and prayers."

OPTIMUS, on hearing this, ordered the prisoner to be stretched upon a wheel, by which all his bones were broken.

HIS torments, however, inspired him with fresh courage: he smiled on his persecutors; and seem|ed, by the serenity of his countenance, not to up|braid, but to applaud his tormentors.

THE pro-consul, at length, tired with torment••ing him, ordered him to be beheaded; which com|mand was executed immediately.

NICHOMACHUS, being brought before the pro-con|sul as a christian, was ordered to sacrifice to the Pa|gan idols. Nichomachus replied, "I cannot pay that respect to devils, which is only due to the Al|mighty." This speech so much enraged the pro|consul, that Nichomachus was put to the rack. He bore the torments, for some time, with patience, and great resolution; but, at length, when ready to expire with pain, he forfeited all the advantages he had gained in his former sufferings, by abjuring his faith, and becoming an apostate. He had no sooner given this proof of his frailty, than he fell into the greatest agonies, dropped down on the ground, and expired immediately.

DENISA, a young women, of only sixteen years of age, who beheld this terrible judgment, sudden|ly exclaimed; "O, unhappy wretch! why would you buy a moment's ease, at the expence of a mise|rable eternity?" Optimus hearing this, called to her, and asked if she was a christian? She replied in the affirmative; and being commanded 〈…〉〈…〉 to the idols, absolutely refused.

PROVOKED at her resolution, Optimus gave her up to two libertines, to become the object of their lust. These took her to their own home, and made many attempts upon her chastity▪ but without ef|fect. At midnight they were deterred from farther attempts by a frightful vision, which so amazed them, that they fell at the feet of Denisa, and im|plored her prayers, that they might not feel the ef|fects of divine vengeance for their brutality. This deliverance, however, did not soften the heart of Optimus; for the damsel was beheaded, by his or|der, soon after.

ANDREW and 〈◊〉〈◊〉, two companions of Nicho|machus the martyr•• on confessing themselves chris|tians, were cond••m••ed to die, and delivered to the multitude to be stoned. Accordingly, A. D. 251,

they suffered martyrdom by stoning, and expired, calling on their blessed Redeemer.

ALEXANDER and Epimachus, of Alexandria, were apprehended for being christians; and, con|fessing the accusation, were beat with staves, torn with hooks, and at length burnt in the fire; and we are informed, in a fragment preserved by Euse|bius, that four female martyrs suffered on the same day, and at the same place, but not in the same manner; for these were beheaded.

LUCIAN and Marcian, two wicked pagans, though skilful magicians, becoming converts to christiani|ty, to make amends for their former errors, lived the lives of hermits, and subsisted upon bread and water only.

AFTER some time spent in this manner, they re|flected that their lives were inefficacious, and de|termined to leave their solitude in order to bring others to christianity. Pursuant to this resolution they became zealous preachers, and made many converts.

THE persecutio••▪ however, raging at this time, they were seized upon, and carried before Sabinus, the governor of Bithynia••▪ On being asked by what authority they took upon themselves to preach, Lu|cian answered, "That ••he laws of charity and huma|nity obliged all men to endeavour the conversion of their neighbours, and to do every thing in their power to rescue them from the snares of the devil."

LUCIAN having answered in this manner, Mar|cian said, that "Their conversion was by the same grace which was given to St. Paul, who, from a zealous persecutor of the church, became a preach|er of the gospel."

THE pro-consul, finding that he could not prevail with them to renounce their faith, condemned them to be burnt alive, which sentence was soon after ex|ecuted.

TRYPHO and Respicius, two eminent men, were seized as christians, and imprisoned at Nice. They were soon after put to the rack, which they bore with admirable patience for three hours, and utter|ed the praises of the Almighty the whole time. They were then exposed naked to the severity of the open air, which benumbed all their limbs, as it was the very depth of the winter.

BEING remanded to prison, they remained there for a considerable time; and then the cruelties of their persecutors were again evinced. Their feet were pierced with nails; they were dragged thro' the streets, scourged, torn with iron hooks, scorched with lighted torches, and at length beheaded, on the first day of Feb. A. D. 251.

AGTHA, a Sicilian lady, was not more remarka|ble for her personal and acquired endowments, than her piety: her beauty was such that Quintian, go|vernor of Sicily, became enamoured of her, and made many attempts upon her chastity.

AS the governor was reputed to be a great liber|tine, and a bigotted pagan, the lady very discreetly thought proper to withdraw from two such danger|ous enemies, as lust and superstition. She accord|ingly retired from the town, but being discovered in her retreat, she was seized, and brought to Catana.

FINDING herself thus in the power of an enemy, both to her soul and body, she recommended her|self to the protection of the Almighty, and prayed for death, as a relief from her miseries.

THE governor, in order to gratify his passions with the greater conveniency, put the virtuous lady into the hands of Aphrodica, a very infamous and licentious woman. This wretch tried every artifice to win her to the desired prostitution; but found all her efforts were vain; for her chastity was impreg••nable, and she well knew that virtue alone could procure true happiness.

APHRODICA acquainted Quintian with the ineffi|cacy of her endeavours, who, enraged to be foiled in his designs, changed his lust into resentment. On her confessing that she was a christian, he determin|ed to gratify his revenge, as he could not his passion.

PURSUANT to his orders she was scourged, burnt with red hot irons, and torn with sharp hooks. Having borne these torments with admirable forti|tude,

she was next laid naked upon live coals, inter|mingled with glass, and then being carried back to prison, she there expired on the 5th of February 251.

CYRIL, bishop of Gortyna, was seized by order of Lucius, the governor of that place, who, never|theless, exhorted him to obey the imperial mandate, perform the sacrifices, and save his venerable person from destruction; for he was now eighty-four years of age. The good prelate replied, that he could not agree to any such requisitions. But as he had long taught others to save their souls, that now he should only think of his own salvation.

THE governor, finding all his persuasions in vain, pronounced sentence against the venerable christian, in these remarkable words:

"I order and appoint, that Cyril, who has lost his senses, and is a declared enemy of our gods, shall be burnt alive."

THE worthy prelate heard this sentence without emotion, walked cheerfully to the place of execu|tion, and underwent his martyrdom with great for|titude.

THE persecution raged in no place more than the island of Crete; for the governor, being exceeding|ly active in executing the imperial decrees, that place streamed with pious blood.

THE principal Cretan martyrs, whose names have been transmitted to us, are the following:

THEODULUS, Saturnius, and Europus, were inha|bitants of Gortyna, who had been grounded in their faith by Cyril, bishop of that city; and Eunicianus, Zeticus, Cleomenes, Agathopas, Bastides, and Eu|aristus, were brought from different parts of the island on accusations relative to their professing christianity.

BEING brought into court, they were command|ed to sacrifice to Jupiter, which declining, the judge threatened them with the severest tortures imagin|able. To these menaces they unanimously answer|ed, "That to suffer, for the sake of the Supreme Being, would to them be the sublimest of plea|sures."

HIS threats failing, the judge attempted to gain their veneration for the heathen deities, by descant|ing on their merits, and recounting some of their mythological histories. This gave the prisoners an opportunity of remarking on the absurdity of such fictions, and of pointing out the folly of paying adoration to ideal deities, and real images.

IRRITATED to hear his favourite idols 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the governor ordered them all to be put to the 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ the tort••res of which they sustained with surp••••sing fortitud••. They at length suffe••ed the period of their martyrdom, A. D. 251: being all beheaded on the same day.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. •• christia•• of a liberal education, be|came bisho•• of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 A. D. 237, on the demise of Ze••inus. 〈…〉〈…〉 inimitable zeal, and governed the church with admirable prudence du|ring the most tempestuous times.

THE first misfortune that happened to Antioch during his mission, was the siege of it by Sapor, king of Persia; who having over-run all Syria, took and plundered this city among others, and used the christian inhabitants with greater severity than the rest.

HIS cruelties, however, were not lasting; for Gordian, the emperor, appearing at the head of a powerful army, Antioch was retaken, the Persians driven entirely out of Syria, pursued into their own country, and several places in the Persian territories fell into the emperor's hands.

AFTER Gordian's death, in the reign of ••ocius, that emperor came to Antioch, where having a de|sire to visit an assembly of christians, Babylas op|posed him, and absolutely refused to let him come in. The emperor dissembled his anger at that time; but soon sending for the bishop, he sharply reproved him for his insolence, and then ordered him to sacrifice to the pagan deities as an expiation for his offence.

THIS being refused, he was committed to prison, loaded with chains, treated with great severities,

and then beheaded, together with three young men who had been his pupils.

AS they went to the place of execution, the bishop exclaimed, "Behold me, and the children that the Lord hath given me." They were martyred, A. D. 251; and the chains worn by the bishop in pri|son were buried with him.

ALEXANDE••, bishop of Jerusalem, about this time was cast i••to prison on account of his religion, where he died ••hrough the severity of his confine|ment.

SERAPIAN, being apprehended at Alexandria, had all his bones broken, and was then thrown from a high loft, and was killed by the fall.

JULIANUS, an old man, lame with the gout, and Cronion, another christian, were bound on the backs of camels, severely scourged, and then thrown into a fire and consumed. A person who stood by, and seemed to commiserate them, was ordered to be be|headed, as a punishment for entertaining sentiments of too tender a nature.

MACAR, a Lybian christian, was burnt; Heron-Ater, and Isidorus, Egyptians; with Dioschorus, a boy of fifteen, after suffering many other torments, met with a similar fate; and Nemesion, another Egyptian, was first tried as a thief; but being ac|quitted, was accused of christianity, which confes|sing, he was scourged, tortured, and burnt.

ISEHYRIAN, the christian servant of an Egyptian nobleman, and magistrate, was run through with a pike by his own master, for refusing to sacrifice to idols; Venatius, a youth of fifteen, was martyred in Italy; and fortv virgins, at Antioch, after being imprisoned and scourged, were burnt.

IN the year of our Lord 251, the emperor Decius having erected a pagan temple at Ephesus, he com|manded all who were in that city to sacrifice to the idols. This order was nobly refused bv seven of his own soldiers, viz. Maximianus, Martianus, Joannes, Malchus, Dionysius, Seraion▪ and Con|stantinus.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 emperor, wishing to win these soldiers to renounce their fate by his intreaties and lenity, gave them a considerable 〈◊〉〈◊〉 till he returned from an expedition.

DURING the emperor's absence, they escaped, and hid themselves in a cavern; which the emperor be|ing informed of at his return, the mouth of the cavern was closed up, and they all perished with hunger.

THEODORA, a beautiful young lady of Antioch, o•• refusing to sacrifice to the Roman idols, was con|demned to the stews, that her virtue might be sacri|ficed to the brutality of lust. Didymus, a christian, disguised himself in the habit of a Roman soldier, went to the house, informed Theodora who he was, and advised her to make her escape in his cloaths.

THIS being effected, and a man found in the bro|thel instead of a beautiful lady, Didymus was taken before the president, to whom confessing the truth, and owning that he was a christian, the sentence of death was immediately pronounced against him.

THEODORA, hearing that her deliverer was likely to suffer, came to the judge, threw herself at his feet, and begged that the sentence might fall only on her as the guilty person; but deaf to the cries of the innocent, and insensible to the calls of justice, the inflexible judge condemned both; when they were executed accordingly, being first beheaded, and their bodies afterwards burnt.

S••CUNDIANUS having been accused as a christian, was conveyed to prison by some soldier••▪ On the way, Verianus and Marcellinus said, "Where are you carrying the innoc••nt?" This interrogatory occasioned them to be seized, and all three, after having been tortured, were hanged, and, when dead, their heads were cut off.

ORIGEN, the celebrated presbyter and catechist of Alexandria, at the age of sixty-four, was seized, thrown into a loathsome prison, laden with heavy fetters, his feet placed in the st••••ks, and his legs extended to the utmost for several succ••ssive days. He was threatened with fire, and tormen••ed by eve|ry means that the most 〈◊〉〈◊〉 imaginations could

suggest. But unappalled with dangers, and un|shaken by sufferings, his christian fortitude bore him through all. Indeed, such was the rigour of his judge, that his tortures were ordered to be lin|gering, that death might not too soon put a period to his miseries. During this cruel temporising, the emperor Decius died, and Gallus, who succeeded him, engaging in a war with the Goths, the chri|stians met with a respite. In this interim Origen obtained his enlargement, and retiring to Tyre, he there remained till his death, which happened when he was in the sixty-ninth year of his age.

GALLUS, the emperor, having concluded his wars, a plague broke out in the empire: sacrifices to the pagan deities were ordered by the emperor, and superstition immediately bowed the knee to idols.

THE christians refusing to comply with these rites, were charged with being the authors of the calamity. Hence the storm of persecution spread from the interior to the extreme parts of the em|pire, and many fell martyrs to the impetuosity of the rabble, as well as the prejudice of the magi|strates.

CORNELIUS, the christian bishop of Rome, was, among others, seized upon this occasion. He was first banished to Centu•••• ••ella••, Civita Vecchia, as it is now called: and ••fter having been cruelly scourged••▪ wa••, on the 14th of September, 252, be|headed, after having been bishop fifteen months and ten days.

LUCIUS, who succeeded Cornelius as bishop of Rome, was the son of Porphyrius, and a Roman by birth. His vigilance, as a pastor, rendered him obnoxious to the foes of christianity, which occasioned him to be banished; but in a short time he was permitted to return from exile.

NOT long after, however, he was apprehended, after having been bishop about six months, and beheaded March the 4th, A. D. 2••3. This bishop was succeeded by Stephanus, a man of a fiery temper, who held the dignity a few years, and might probably have fallen a martyr, had not the emperor been murdered by his general Aemilian, when a profound peace succeeded throughout the whole empire, and the persecution of course ceased.

MOST of the errors which crept into the church at this time, arose from placing human reason in competition with revelation; but the fallacy of such arguments being proved by the most able di|vines, the opinions they had created, vanished away like stars before the sun.

An Account of the Eighth general Persecution, under the Roman Emperors.

AEMILIAN, the general, not being properly supported by the army, was slain, and Va|lerian elected to the empire.

FOR the space of four years this emperor govern|ed with moderation, and treated the christians with peculiar lenity and respect. But A. D. 257, an Egyptian magician, named Macrianus, gained a great ascendancy over him, and persuaded him to persecute the christians.

EDICTS being published, the ungovernable rage of ignorance and superstition was let loose against the christians. The persecution began in the month of April, and continued for three years and six months.

THE martyrs that fell in this persecution were innumerable, and their tortures and deaths as vari|ous and painful. The most eminent martyrs were the following, though neither rank, sex, or age were regarded.

RUFINA and Secunda were two beautiful and ac|complished ladies, daughters of Asterius, a gen|tleman of eminence in Rome. Rufina, the elder, was designed in marriage for Armentarius, a young nobleman; and Secunda, the younger, for Veri|nus, a person of rank and opulence.

THE suitors, at the time of the persecution's commencing, were both christians; but when dan|ger appeared, to save their fortunes, they renoun|ced their faith. They took great pains to persuade the ladies to do the same, but failed in their pur|pose. Rufina and Secunda, though too just to change their religious sentiments, were too diffi|dent of their own strength to rema••n longer the

objects of such solicitations; on which account they left the city.

DISAPPOINTED in their purpose, the lovers were base enough to inform against the ladies, who be|ing apprehended as christians, were brought before Junius Donatus, governor of Rome.

BEING inflexible to all remonstrances, and having passed through several tortures, they, A. D. 257, sealed their martyrdom with their blood, by being beheaded.

STEPHEN, bishop of Rome, was beheaded in the same year; and about that time Saturnius, bishop of Thoulouse, was set upon and seized by the rab|ble of that place, for preventing, as they alledged, their oracles from speaking. On refusing to sacri|fice to the idols, he was treated with all the barba|rous indignities imaginable, and then fastened by the feet to the tail of a bull. Upon a signal given, the enraged animal was driven down the steps of the temple, by which the worthy martyr's brains were dashed out. The small number of christians in Thoulouse had not courage sufficient to carry off the dead body, till two women conveyed it away, and deposited it in a deep ditch.

THIS martyr was a most orthodox and worthy primitive christian, and his doctrines are to be firm|ly depended upon.

SEXTUS succeeded Stephen as bishop of Rome. He is supposed to have been a Greek by birth, or by extraction, and had for some time served in the capacity of a deacon under Stephen. His great fidelity, singular wisdom, and uncommon courage, distinguished him upon many occasions; and the happy conclusion of a controversy with some here|tics, is generally ascribed to his piety and prudence.

IN the year 258, Marcianus, who had the ma|nagement of the Roman government, procured an order from the emperor Valerian, to put to death all the christian clergy in Rome.

THE senate testifying their obedience to the im|perial mandate, Sextus was one of the first who felt the severity of the rescript. Cyprian tells us, ••h••t he was beheaded August ••, A. D. 258. We are likewise informed, that six of his deacons suf|fered with him.

LAURENTIUS, generally called St. Laurence, the principal of the deacons, wh•• ••aught and preached under Sextus, followed him to the place of execu|cution; when Sextus predicted, that he should, three days after, meet him in heaven.

LAURENTIUS looking upon this as a certain indi|cation of his own approaching martyrdom, at his return gathered together all the christian poor, and distributed the treasures of the church, which had been committed to his care, among them; think|ing the money could not be better disposed of, or less liable to fall into the hands of the pagans.

THIS liberality alarmed the persecutors, who seized on him to make a discovery from whence it arose, and commanded him to give an immediate account to the emperor, of the church treasures.

HE promised he would do this, but begged a short respite to put things into proper order; when three days being granted him, he was suffered to depart; whereupon, with great diligence, he col|lected together a great number of aged, helpless, and impotent poor, he repaired to the magistrate, and presenting them to him, said, "These are the true treasures of the church."

INCENSED at the disappointment, and fancying the matter meant in ridicule, the governor ordered him to be immediately scourged. He was then beat with iron rods, set upon a wooden horse, and had his limbs dislocated.

THESE tortures he endured with fortitude and perseverance; when he was ordered to be fastened to a large gridiron, with a slow fire under it, that his death might be the more lingering.

HIS astonishing constancy during these trials, and serenity of countenance while under such exc••uci|ating torments, gave the spectators so exalted an idea of the dignity and truth of the christian reli|gion, that many became converts upon the occasion.

AFTER laying, for some time, upon this burn|ing bed, the martyr called out to the emperor, who

[figure]

S^T LAWRENCE Burnt on a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 by order of the Emperor 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the 8^th Roman Persecution of the Christian Church••.

Two Primitive Martyrs put into a Copper of Boiling Oil by order of 〈…〉〈…〉 Ephesi•••• during the Reign of Nero. AD. 69.

was present, in a kind of jocose distich, made extempore, which may be thus translated:

This side enough is toasted, Then turn me, tyrant, and eat; And see, whether raw or roasted, I seem the better meat.

THE executioner turned him accordingly, and after having lain a considerable time longer, he had still strength and spirits sufficient left to triumph over the tyrant, by telling him, with great sereni|ty, that he was dressed enough, and only wanted serving up. He then chearfully lifted up his eyes to heaven, and with calmness yielded his spirit to the Almighty, on August 10, A. D. 258.

ROMANUS, a soldier, who attended the martyr|dom of Laurentius, was one of the converts to his sufferings and fortitude; for he could not help feel|ing the greatest veneration for a God, who inspired his votaries with such courage, and rendered his martyrs superior to all the cruelties of their perse|cutors.

THE brave Romanus, when the martyr Lau|rentius was remanded to prison, took that opportu|nity of fully inquiri•••• into the nature of the chris|tian faith; and bei••g entirely satisfied by Lauren|tius, became firmly christian, received his bap|tism from the captive, and seemed to have his mind impressed with a lively idea of the kingdom of Christ; a kingdom replete with eternal joys, and everlasting happiness.

THE change of Romanus was soon known, when he was apprehended, scourged severely, and afterwards beheaded.

HYPOLITUS was another, who, for the same crime, was seized in a like manner, and suffered a similar death.

IN Africa, the Persecution raged with peculiar violence; many thousands received the crown of martyrdom, among whom the following were the most distinguished characters:

CYPRIAN, bishop of Carthage, was an eminent prelate, and a pious ornament of the church. The brightness of his genius was tempered by the soli|dity of his judgment; and with all the accom|plishments of the gentleman, he blended the vir|tues of the christian. His doctrines were ortho|dox and pure; his language easy and elegant; and his manners graceful and winning: in fine, he was both the pious and polite preacher. Indeed, an easy delivery, and polished manner, are requisite in every preacher, who would make an impression on the hearts of his audience. This was the prac|tice of St. Paul, and this was the accomplishment of Cyprian.

THE latter, it is said, was so perfectly a master of the rules of rhetoric, and the precepts of logic, and so complete in the practice of elocution, and the principles of philosophy, that he was made professor of those sciences in his native city of Car|thage, where he became so popular, and taught with such success, that many of his students after|wards became shining ornaments of polite learning.

IN his youth he was educated in the principles of Gentilism, and having a considerable fortune, he lived in the very extravagance of splendour, and all the dignity of pomp. Gorgeous in attire, lux|urious in feasting, vain of a numerous retinue, and fond of every kind of fashionable parade, he seem|ed to fancy that man was born to gratify all his ap|petites, and created for pleasure alone.

ABOUT the year 240, Coelius, a christian minis|ter of Carthage, became the happy instrument of Cyprian's conversion, on which account, and for the great love that he always afterwards bore for the author of his conversion, he was termed Coeci|lius Cyprian.

PREVIOUS to his baptism he studied the scriptures, with care, and being struck with the beauties of th•• truth they contained, he de••••rmined to practise the virtues therein recommended. Subsequent to his baptism he sold his estate, distributed the money among the poor, dressed himself in plain attire, and commenced a life of austerity.

HE was soon after made a presbyter; and being greatly admired for his virtues, and his works, on the death of Donatus, in A. D. 248, he was al|most unanimously elected bishop of Carthage.

CYPRIAN'S care not only extended over Carthage, but to Numedia and Mauritania. In all his trans|actions he took great care to ask the advice of his clergy, knowing, that unanimity alone could be of service to the church; this being one of his maxims, "That the bishop was in the church, and the church in the bishop; so that unity can only be preserved by a close connection between the pastor and his flock."

A. D. 250, Cyprian was publicly proscribed by the emperor Decius, under the appellation of Coeci|lius Cyprian, bishop of the christians; and the universal cry of the pagans, was, "Cyprian to the lions, Cyprian to the beasts."

THE bishop, however, withdrew himself from the rage of the populace, and his effects were im|mediately confiscated.

DURING his retirement he wrote thirty pious and elegant letters to his flock; but several schisms that then crept into the church gave him great uneasi|ness. The rigour of the persecution abating, he returned to Carthage, and did every thing in his power to expunge erroneous opinions.

A terrible plague breaking out at Carthage, it was, as usual, laid to the charge of the christians; and the magistrates began to persecute accordingly, which occasioned an epistle from them to Cy|prian, in answer to which he vindicates the cause of christianity.

A. D. 257, Cyprian was brought before the pro-consul Aspa••ius Paternus, when being com|manded to conform to the religion of the empire, he boldly made a confession of his faith, and own|ed himself a christian. This confession, however, did not occasion his death, but an order for his ba|nishment, which exiled him to a little city on the Lybian sea. On the death of the pro-consul who banished him, he returned to Carthage, but was soon after seized, and carried before the new go|vernor, who condemned him to be beheaded; which sentence was executed on the 14th of Sep|tember, A. D. 258.

THIS bishop was certainly a most valuable pastor of the church, a pious christian, an excellent phi|losopher, and an accurate preacher. Before we quit this article, we think it necessary to insert his own account of his conversion.

"WHILE (says he) I laid in darkness and uncer|tainty, I thought on what I had heard of, a second birth, proposed by the divine goodness; but could not comprehend how a man could receive a new life from his being immersed in water; cease to be what he was before, and still remain the same body. How, said I, can such a change be possi|ble? How can he, who is grown old in a worldly way of living, strip himself of his former inclina|tions, and inveterate habits? Can he, who has spent his whole time in plenty, and indulged his appetite without restraint, ever be transformed into an example of frugality and sobriety? Or he who has always appeared in splendid apparel, stoop to the plain, simple, and unornamented dress of the common people? It is impossible for a man, who has borne the most honourable posts, ever to sub|mit to lead a private and an obscure life: or that he who was never seen in public without a croud of at|tendants, and persons who endeavoured to make their fortunes by attending him, should ever bear to be alone. This (continues he) was my way of arguing; I thought it was impossible for me to leave my former course of life, and the habits I was then engaged in, and accustomed to•• but no sooner did the life-giving water wash the spots of my soul, than my heart received the heavenly light of the Holy Spirit, which transformed me into a new creature; all my difficulties were cleared, my doubts dissolved, and my darkness dispelled. I was then able to do what before seemed impossible; could discern that my former life was earthly and sinful, according to the impurity of my birth; but that my spiritual birth gave me new ideas and in|clinations, and directed all my views to God."

THE disciples of Cyprian, martyred in this per|secution, were, Lucius, Flavian, Victoricus, Re|mus, Montanus, Julian, Primolus, Donatian.

AT Utica, a most terrible tragedy was exhibited▪ 300 christians were, by the orders of the pro-con|sul, placed round a burning lime-kiln. A pan of coals and incense being prepared, they were com|manded either to sacrifice to Jupiter, or to be thrown into the kiln. Unanimously refusing, they

bravely jumped into the pit, and were immediate|ly suffocated.

FRUCTUOSUS, bishop of Tarragon, in Spain, and his two deacons, Augurius and Eulogius, were burnt for being christians.

ALEXANDER, Malchus, and Priscus, three chris|tians of Palestine, with a woman of the same place, voluntarily accused themselves of being christians; on which account they were sentenced to be de|voured by tygers, which sentence was executed ac|cordingly.

MAXIMA, Donatilla, and Secunda, three vir|gins of Tuburga, had gall and vinegar given them to drink, were then severely scourged, tormented on a gibbet, rubbed with lime, scorched on a grid|iron, worried by wild beasts, and at length be|headed.

PONTIUS, a native of the city of Simela, near the Alps, being apprehended as a christian, was tortured on the rack, worried by wild beasts, half burnt, then beheaded, and lastly thrown into the river▪ and Protus and Hyacinthus likewise suffer|ed martyrdom for the sake of Christ.

IT is here proper to take notice of the singular but miserable fate of the emperor Valerian, who had so long and so terribly persecuted the christians.

THIS tyrant, by a stratagem, was taken prisoner by Sapores, emperor of Persia, who carried him into his own country, and there treated him with the most unexampled indignity, making him kneel down as the meanest slave, and treading upon him as a footstool when he mounted his horse, saying, in a vaunting manner, "This posture is a greater proof whi••h way the victory went, than all the pic|tures the Roman artists can draw."

AFTER having kept him, for the space of seven years, in this abject state of slavery, he caused his eyes to be put out, though he was then 83 years of age.

THIS not satiating his desire of revenge, he soon aft••r ordered his body to be flead alive, and rubbed with ••alt, under which torments he expired; and thus fell one of the most tyrannical emperors of Rome, and one of the greatest persecutors of the christians.

A. D. 260, Gallienus, the son of Valerian, suc|ceeded him; and, during his reign, the empire suffered many commotions, particularly earth|quakes, pestilence, inundations, incursions of bar|barians, and intestine broils.

GALLIENUS upon this reflecting, that when his father favoured the christians he prospered, and that when he persecuted them he was unsuccessful, he determined to relax the persecution; so that (a few martyrs excepted) the church enjoyed peace for some years. The chief of the few martyrs alluded to, was the following:

MARNIUS, a centurion, who being apprehended as a christian, had but three hours allowed him to deliberate, whether he would sacrifice to the pagan deities, or become a martyr? Being wavering du|ring this interval, a christian prelate placed the gos|pel and a sword before him, and demanding which he would chuse, Marnius, without hesitation, took the sword.

GOING again to the governor, he made a noble confession of his faith, and was speedily after be|headed, in the year 202.

An Account of the Ninth general Persecution under the Roman Emperors.

A. D. 274, the emperor Aurelian commenced a persecution against the christians; the principal sufferers being

FELIX, bishop of Rome. This prelate was ad|vanced to the Roman see in 274. He was the first martyr to Aurelian's petulancy, being beheaded on the 22d of December, in the same year.

AGAPETUS, a young gentleman, who sold his estate, and gave the money to the poor, was seized as a christian, tortured, and then beheaded at Prae|neste▪ a city within a day's journey of Rome.

THESE are the only martyrs left upon record du|ring this reign, as it was soon put a stop to by the emperor's being murdered by his own domestics at Byzantium.

AURELIAN was succeeded by Tacitus, who was followed by Probus, as the latter was by Carus: this emperor being killed by a thunder storm, his sons, Carnius and Numerian, succeeded him; and during all these reigns the church had peace.

DIOCLESIAN mounting the imperial throne, A. D. 284, at first shewed great favour to the christians. In the year 286, he associated Maximian with him, in the empire; and some christians were put to death before any general persecution broke out. Among these were

FELICIAN and Primus, two brothers. These christians were seized by an order from the imperial court: they owned themselves christians, and were accordingly scourged, tortured, and at length be|headed.

MARCUS and Marcellianus were twins, natives of Rome, and of noble descent. Their parents were heathens, but the tutors, to whom the education of the children was entrusted, brought them up as christians. Being apprehended on account of their faith, they were severely tortured, and then con|demned to lose their heads.

THEIR friends obtained for them the respite of a month, when their father, mother, and all their re|lations, attempted to bring them back to paganism, but in vain; the calls of nature were overcome by piety, and religion got the better of worldly feelings.

THEIR constancy at length subdued their persua|ders, and their parents and whole family became converts to a faith they had just before reprobated,

THE father of the two young men, named Tran|quili••••••s, was sent for by the praefect to give him an account of the success of his endeavours. Appear|ing before the magistrate he confessed, that so far from having persuaded his sons to forsake the faith they had embraced, he was himself become a christian.

HERE he stopped till the magistrate had over|come his surprize, and then resuming his discourse, he used such powerful arguments that he made a convert of the praefect, who soon after sold his estate, resigned his command, and spent the remainder of his days in a pious retirement.

THE praefect, who succeeded the above-mention|ed convert, had nothing of the disposition of his predecessor: he was morose and severe, and soon seized upon the whole of this christian family.

THEY were martyred by being tied to posts, and having their feet pierced with nails. After remain|ing in this situation for a day and night, their suf|ferings were put an end to by thrusting lances through their bodies.

ZOE, the wife of the gaoler, who had the care of the before-mentioned martyrs, being greatly edified by their discourses, had a desire to become a chris|tian: this, as she was dumb with a palsy, she could only express by gestures.

PITYING her condition, they gave her full in|structions in the faith, and told her to pray in her heart to God to relieve her from her disorder. She complied with their request, and was at length re|lieved; for her paralytic disorder by degrees left her, and her speech was restored.

THIS inforced her belief, and confirmed her a christian; and her husband, finding her cured, soon became a convert to christianity. These conver|sions made a great noise, and the converts were soon apprehended. Zoe was commanded to sacrifice to Mars, which refusing she was hanged upon a tree, and a fire of straw lighted under her. When her body was taken down it was thrown into a river, with a large stone tied to it, in order to sink it.

TIBERTIUS, a native of Rome, was descended from a considerable family.

BEING accused as a christian, he was commanded either to sacrifice to idols, or to walk upon burning coals. He chose the latter, and passed over them without damage, when Fabian passed sentence upon him that he should be beheaded: which sentence

was performed in the month of August, A. D. 286, and his body was afterwards buried by some christians.

IN the year of Christ 286, a most remarkable af|fair occurred: a legion of soldiers, consisting of 6666 men, contained none but christians. This legion was called the Theban legion, because the men had been raised in Thebaus: they were quar|tered in the east till the emperor Maximian order|ed them to march to Gaul, to assist him against the rebels of Burgundy.

THEY passed the Alps into Gaul, under the com|mand of Mauritius, Candidus, and Exupernis, their worthy commanders, and at length joined the emperor.

MAXIMIAN, about this time, ordered a general sacrifice, at which the whole army were to assist; and likewise he commanded, that they should take oaths of allegiance, and swear, at the same time, to assist him in the extirpation of christianity in Gaul.

ALARMED at these orders, each individual of the Theban legion, absolutely refused either to sacrifice, or take the oaths prescribed. This so greatly en|raged Maximian, that he ordered the legion to be decimated, that is every tenth man to be selected from the rest, and put to the sword.

THIS bloody order having been put into execu|tion, those who remained alive were still inflexible, when a second decimation took place, and every tenth man of those living were again put to death.

THIS second severity made no more impression than the first had done; the soldiers preserved their fortitude and their principles, but by the advice of their officers, drew up a remonstrance to the empe|ror, in which they told him, "that they were his subjects and his soldiers, but could not at the same time forget the Almighty; that they received their pay from him, and their existence from God.— While your commands (said they) are not contra|dictory to those of our common master, we shall al|ways be ready to obey, as we have been hitherto; but when the orders of our prince and those of the Almighty differ, we must always obey the latter. Our arms are devoted to the emperor's use, and shall be directed against his enemies; but we can|not submit to stain our hands with the effusion of christian blood: and how, indeed, could you, O emperor! be secure of our allegiance and fidelity, should we violate our obligation to our God, in whose service we were solemnly engaged before we entered in the army? You command us to search out and to destroy the christians: it is not necessary to look any farther for persons of that denomination, we ourselves are such, and we glory in the name. We saw our companions fall without the least opposi|tion or murmuring, and thought them happy in dying for the sake of Christ. Nothing shall make us lift up our hands against our sovereign; we had rather die wrongfully, and by that means preserve our innocence, than live under a load of guilt: whatever you command we are ready to suffer; we confess ourselves to be christians, and therefore can|not persecute christians, nor sacrifice to idols."

A declaration like this, it might be presumed, would have softened the emperor, but it had the contrary effect: for, enraged at their perseverance and unanimity, he commanded, that the whole le|gion should be put to death; which was according|ly executed by the other troops, who cut them to pieces with their swords.

THIS affair happened on the 22d of September, A. D. 286; and such was the inveterate malice of Maximian, that he sent to destroy every man of a few detachments, that had been drafted from the Theban legion, and dispatched to Italy.

VICTOR, an old veteran soldier of another legion, met the executioners of this bloody business. As they appeared rather merry, he inquired into the cause of their jocularity, and being informed of the whole affair, he sharply reproved them for their barbarity. This excited their curiosity to ask him if he was of the same faith as those who had suffer|ed? On answering in the affirmative, several of the soldiers fell upon him, and immediately dis|patched him.

ALBAN, from whom St. Alban's, in Hertfordshire▪ received its name, was the first British martyr. That island had received the gospel of Christ from

Lucius, the first christian king, but did not suffer by the rage of persecution for many years after.

ALBAN was originally a pagan, but being natu|rally of a very humane and tender disposition, he s••••ltered a christian ecclesiastic, named Amphibalus, when some officers were in pursuit of him on ac|count of his religion.

THE pious example, and edifying discourses of the refugee, made a great, impression on the mind of Alban; he longed to become a member of a re|ligion which charmed him, and to imitate what he admired. The fugitive minister, happy in the op|portunity, took great pains to instruct him; and, before his discovery, perfected Alban's conver|sion.

ALBAN now took a firm resolution to preserve the sentiments of a christian, or to die the death of a martyr. The enemies of Amphibalus having in|telligence of the place where he was secreted, came to the house of Alban, in order to apprehend him.

ALBAN, desirous of protecting his guest and con|verter, changed cloaths with him, in order to facili|tate his escape; and when the soldiers came, offered himself up as the person they were seeking for.

BEING carried before the governor, the deceit was immediately discovered; and Amphibalus being absent, that officer determined to wreak all his ven|geance upon Alban.

THE prisoner was accordingly commanded to ad|vance to the altar, and to sacrifice to the pagan dei|ties; or threatened, in case of refusal, with the ven|geance intended to be exercised against the person who had escaped by his contrivance.

UNTERRIFIED by these menaces, he declared that he would not comply with such idolatrous injunc|tions, but freely professed himself to be a christian.

THE governor ordered him to be scourged, which he bore with great fortitude, and seemed to acquire new resolution from his sufferings: he then was sen|tenced to be beheaded.

THE venerable Bede assures us, that, upon this occasion, the executioner suddenly became a convert to christianity, and intreated permission either to die for Alban, or with him. Obtaining the latter re|quest, they were beheaded by a soldier, who volun|tarily undertook the task of executioner. This happened on the 22d of June, A. D. 287, at Veru|lam, now St. Alban's, in Hertfordshire, where a magnificent church was erected to his memory, about the time of Constantine the Great. This edifice being destroyed in the Saxon wars, was re|built by Offa, king of Mercia, and a monastery erected adjoining to it, some remains of which are still visible, and the church is a noble Gothic struc|ture.

FAITH was a christian female, of Acquitain, in France. Dacian, the Roman governor of Gaul, in the time of Maximian, resided at Agen, in Acqui|tain, and was very active in persecuting the christains.

FAITH being informed that there was a design to seize her, forestalled the intention, by surrendering herself up as a prisoner; and being inflexible in her faith, was ordered to be broiled upon a gridiron, and then beheaded; which sentence was executed in the year 287.

CAPACIUS was one who had concealed himself from the persecutors of christianity, but being in|formed of the fortitude of Faith, he openly avow|ed his religion, and delivered himself up to the governor, who had him first tortured, and then beheaded.

QUINTIN was a christian, and a native of Rome, but determined to attempt the propagation of the gospel in Gaul. He accordingly we••t to Picardy, attended by one Lucian: they preached together at Amiens; after which Lucian went to Beawaris, where he was martyred.

QUINTIN remained in Picardy, and was very zea|lous in his ministry. His continual prayers to the Almighty were, to increase his faith, and strengthen his faculties to propagate the gospel.

BEING seized upon as a christian, he was stretch|ed

with pullies till his joints were dislocated: his body was then torn with wire scourges, and boiling oil and pitch poured on his naked flesh: lighted torches were applied to his sides and arm-pits; and after he had been thus tortured he was remanded back to prison.

VARUS, the governor, being obliged to repair to Vermandois, ordered Quintin to be conducted thi|ther under a strong guard, where he died of the bar|barities he suffered, on the 31st of October, A. D. 287; and his body was sunk in the river Somme.

An Account of the Tenth gen••ral Persecution under the Roman Emperors, commonly called the Aera of the Martyrs.

MANY reasons have been assigned for the oc|casion of this persecution, particularly the great increase of the christians, whose numbers ren|dered them formidable; many of them having lost their humility, and given themselves up to vanity, by dressing gay, living sumptuously, building state|ly edifices for churches, &c. which created envy; and the hatred of Galerius, the adopted son of Dio|clesian, who being stimulated by his mother, a bi|goted pagan, never ceased persuading the emperor to enter upon the persecution, till he had accom|plished his purpose.

THE fatal day fixed upon to commence the bloody work, was the 23d of February, A. D. 303, that being the day in which the Terminalia were celebrated, and on which, as the pagans boasted, they hoped to put a termination to christianity.

ON the day appointed the persecution began in Nicomedia, on the morning of which the praefect of that city repaired, with a great number of offi|cers and assistants, to the church of the christians, where having forced open the doors, they seized upon all the sacred books, and committed them to the flames.

THE whole of this transaction was in the presence of Dioclesian and Galerius, who not contented with burning the books, had the church levelled with the ground. This was followed by a severe edict commanding the destruction of all other christian churches and books: and an order soon succeeded to render christians of all denominations outlaws, and consequently to make them incapable of hold|ing any place of trust, profit, o•• dignity, or of re|ceiving any protection from the legal institutions of the realm.

THE publication of this edict occasioned an im|mediate martyrdom; for a bold christian not only tore it down from the place to which it was affixed, but execrated the name of the emperor for his in|justice.

A provocatio•• ••ike this was sufficient to call down pagan vengeance upon his head; he was according|ly seized, severely tortured, and then burnt alive.

ALL the christian prelates were then apprehend|ed, and imprisoned; and Galerius privately or|dered the imperial palace to be set on fire, that the christians might be charged as the incendiaries, and a plausible pretence given for carrying on the perse|cution with the greatest severities.

A general sacrifice was commanded, which occa|sioned various martyrdoms. Among others, a christian, named Peter, was tortured, broiled, and then burnt; several deacons and presbyters were seized upon, and executed by various means; and the bishop of Nicomedia, named Anthimus, was beheaded.

NO distinction was made of age or sex; the name of christian was so obnoxious to the pagans, that all fell indiscriminately sacrifices to their opinions. Many houses were set on fire, and whole christian families perished in the flames; and others had stones fastened about their necks, and being tied together were driven into the sea. The persecu|tion became general in all the Roman provinces, but more particularly in the east; and as it lasted ten years, it is impossible to ascertain the numbers martyred, or to enumerate the various modes of martyrdom: some were beheaded in Arabia; many devoured by wild beasts in Phoenicia; great num|bers were broiled on gridirons in Syria; others had their bones broken, and in that manner were left to

expire in Cappadocia; and several in Mesopotamia were hung with their heads downwards over slow fires, and suffocated.

IN Pontus, a variety of tortures were used, in particular, pins were thrust under the nails of the prisoners, melted lead was poured upon them; and various modes were adopted in tormenting the christians, the indecency of which could be only equalled by the savage barbarities practised in their execution.

IN Egypt, the christians were martyred by means of the four elements, some were buried alive in the earth, others were drowned in the waters of the Nile, many were hung up in the air till they perish|ed, and great numbers received their death by be|ing thrown into large fires.

RACKS, scourges, swords, daggers, crosses, poi|son, and famine, were made use of in various parts to dispatch the christians; and invention was ex|hausted to devise tortures against such as had no crime, but thinking differently from the votaries of superstition.

A city of Phrygia, consisting entirely of christi|ans, was surrounded by a number of pagan soldiers to prevent any from escaping; who setting it on fire, all the inhabitants perished in the flames. But though the sufferings of the christians were many, their souls were serene: a perfect resignation to the chastisements of heaven being one of the greatest christian duties.

TIRED with slaughter, at length, several gover|nors of provinces represented to the imperial court, that "it was unfit to pollute the cities with the blood of the inhabitants, or to defame the govern|ment of the emperors with the death of so many subjects." Hence many were respited from execu|tion, but though they did not put them to death, as much as possible was done to render their lives miserable.

ACCORDINGLY, as marks of infamy, many of the christians had their ears cut off, their noses slit, their right eyes put out, their limbs rendered useless by dreadful dislocations, and their flesh scared in con|spicuous places with red hot irons.

IT is necessary now to particularize the most con|spicuous persons, who laid down their lives in mar|tyrdom in this bloody persecution.

SEBASTIAN, a celebrated martyr, was born at Narbonne in Gaul, instructed in the principles of christianity at Milan, and afterwards became an officer of the emperor's guard at Rome. He re|mained a true christian in the midst of idolatry; un|allured by the splendors of a court, untainted by evil examples, and uncontaminated by the hopes of preferment. Esteemed by the most eminent, be|loved by his equals, and admired by his inferiors, he lived happily, and kept his faith and place, till the rigour of the persecution deprived him of the latter with his life, though not of the former.

HE was informed against, and betrayed to Fabian the Roman praetor, by Torquatus a pretended chris|tian; but being of a rank too considerable to be put to death without the emperor's express orders, Dio|clesian was acquainted with the whole affair.

THE emperor, on hearing the accusation, sent for Sebastian, and charged him with ingratitude in be|traying the confidence reposed in him, and being an enemy to the g••ds of the empire and to himself.

SEBASTIAN replied, that his religion was of a good, not a pernicious tendency, and that it did not stimulate him to any thing against the welfare of the empire in general, or the emperor in particular, and that the greatest proof he could give of his fidelity, was the praying to the only true God for the health and prosperity of his imperial person. Incensed at this reply, the emperor ordered him to be taken to a field near the city, termed the Campus Martius, and there to be shot to death with arrows; which sentence was executed accordingly.

SOME pious christians coming to the place of exe|cution, in order to give his body burial, perceived signs of life in him, and immediately moving him to a place of security, they in a short time effected his recovery, and prepared him for a second mar|tyrdom;

for as soon as he was able to go out, he placed himself intentionally in the emperor's way as he was going to the temple.

THE appearance of a person supposed to be effec|tually dead, greatly astonished the emperor, nor did the words of the martyr less surprize him; for he began with great severity to reprehend him for his various cruelties, and for his unreasonable prejudices against christianity.

As soon as Dioclesian had overcome his surprize, he ordered Sebastian to be seized, carried to a place near the palace, and beat to death; and that the christians should not either use means again to re|cover, or bury his body, he ordered that it should be thrown into the common sewer. Nevertheless, a christian lady, named Lucina, found means to remove it from the sewer, and bury it in the cata|combs, or repositories of the dead.

THE christians, about this time, upon mature consideration, thought it unlawful to bear arms under a heathen emperor. Their reasons were many and substantial; the principal being,

1. THAT they thereby were frequently under the necessity of profaning the christian sabbath.

2. THAT that they were obliged, with the rest of the army, frequently to be present at idolatrous sa|crifices, before the temples of idols.

3. THAT they were compelled to follow the im|perial standards, which were dedicated to heathen deities, and bore their representatio••s.

THESE reasons induced many to refuse to enter into the imperial army, when called upon so to do; for the Roman constitution obliged all young men, of such a certain stature, to make several campaigns.

MAXIMILIAN, the son of ••••bius Victor, being p••inted ••ut as a proper person to bear arms, was ••••dered by ••ion, the pro-consul, to be me••sured, in order to be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the s••rvice. Maximilian, however, ••bsolutely refused to be inlisted, and 〈…〉〈…〉 himself a christian.

BEING found of the standard heighth, Dion gave directions that he should be marked as a soldier, according to the usual custom. He, however, stre|nuously opposed this, and told Dion that he could not possibly engage in the service.

INCENSED at his conduct, the pro-consul plainly told him, that he should either serve as a soldier, or die for his disobedience. "Do as you please with me (replied Maximilian); behead me if you think proper; I am already a soldier of Christ, and can|not serve any other power."

PERCEIVING the inflexibility of the young man, Dion commanded his father to use his authority over him, in order to persuade him to comply; but Victor cooly replied, "My son knows best what he has to do."

THE pro-consul again demanded of Maximilian, with some acrimony, if he was yet disposed to re|ceive the mark? To which the young man replied, he had already received the mark of Christ. "Have you! (exclaimed the pro-consul in a rage) then I shall quickly send you to Christ." "As soon as you please (answered Maximilian), that is all I wish or desire."

DION then seeming to soften, represented 〈◊〉〈◊〉 him that it was a great pity he should be lost in the prime of his years. Maximilian replied, that he might die, but should not be lost; for though he left the world, his immortal soul would reside eternally with the Almighty. On which the pro-consul pronoun|ced this sentence upon him, "That for disobedi|ence in refusing to bear arms, and for professing the christian faith, he should lose his head." This sen|tence he heard with great intrepidity, and exclaim…ed, with apparent rapture, "God be praised."

AT the place of execution, he exhorted those that were christians to remain so; and such as were not, to embrace a faith which led to eternal glory.

TURNING to his father then, with a chearful countenance, he desired that the military habit in|tended for his wearing, might be given to the exe|cu••ioner▪ and, after taking leave of him, said, he

hoped they should meet again in the other world, and be happy to all eternity. He then received, at once, the fatal stroke, and the crown of mar|tyrdom.

THE father beheld the execution with amazing fortitude, and saw the head of his heroic son severed from his body, without any ••••sible emotions, but such as seemed to proceed from a conscious plea|sure, in being the 〈…〉〈…〉 one whose piety and courage rendered him so shining an example for christians to imitate in fu••ure times.

VITUS, a Sicilian of considerable family, was brought up a christian; when his virtues increased with hi•• years, his constancy s••pported him under afflictions, and his faith was superior to the most dangerous perils.

HIS father Hylas, who was a pagan, finding that he had been instructed in the principles of christian|ity by the nurse who brought him up, did all his endeavours to bring him back to paganism.

FAILING in his design▪ he forgot all the feelings of a parent, and informed against his son to Vale|rian, governor of Sicily, who was very active in persecuting the christians.

VITUS▪ 〈…〉〈…〉 ••ime of his b••••ng app••••hended upon the inform••tion of his ••ather, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 little more than twelve y••ars of age; Valerian therefore, on account of his tender age, thought to frighten him out of his faith. He was accordingly threatened with great anger, and ordered him to be scourged severely.

HAVING received this punishment, the governor sent him back to his father, thinking that what he had suffered would certainly make him change his principles: but in this he was mistaken; and Hy|las, finding his son was inflexible, suffered nature, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sink under superstition, and determined to sacrifice his son to the idols.

VITUS, on being apprised of his design, escaped to Lucania, where being seized, he was by order of Valerian put to death, June 14, A. D. 303: but in what manner we are not informed.

CRESCENTIA, the nurse who brought him up as a christian, and a person who escaped with him, called Modestus, were martyred at the same time.

VICTOR was a christian of a good family at Mar|seilles, in France; he spent a great part of the night in visiting the afflicted, and confirming: the weak; which pious wo•••• he could not, consistent with his own safety, perform in the day time; and his for|tune he spent in relieving the distresses of poor christians, thinking that riches were useless unless subservient to works of charity, and otherwise em|ployed, were a bane to mankind.

HE was at length, however, seized by the em|peror's orders, and being carried before the praefect, they advised him to embrace paganism and not for|feit the favour of his prince, on account of a dead man, as he stiled Christ. In answer to which he replied. "That he preferred the services of that dead man, who was in reality the Son of God, and was risen from the grave, to all the advantages he could receive from the emperor's favour: that he was a soldier of Christ, and would therefore take care that the post he held under an earthly prince, should never interfere with his duty to the King of heaven; and that as for the gods, whose worship they recommended to him, he could not think them any better than evil spirits."

HE was loaded with reproac••••s for this 〈◊〉〈◊〉, but being a man of rank, he was se••t to the empe|ror to receive his final sentence.

THE emperor, under the severest penal••ies, com|manded him to sacrifice to the Roman idols. On his absolute refusal to comply, Maximian ordered him to be bound, and dragg••d through the streets. During the execution of this order▪ he was treated with all manner of cruelties and indignities, by the enraged populace.

REMAINING still inflexible, his courage was deem|ed obstinacy, and christian confidence called ill|grounded and irrational: to which he replied, "That the ready disposition of the disciples of Christ to undergo any sufferings on that score, and the joy with which they met the most ignominious and painful deaths, were a sufficient proof of their

assurance of the object of that hope." And added, "That he was ready to give an example of what he had said in his own person."

BEING by order stretched upon the ••••ck, he turn|ed his eyes towards heaven, and prayed to God to endue him with patience; after which he under|went the tortures with most admirable fortitude. After the executioners were tired with inflicting tor|ments on him, he was taken from the rack, and conveyed to a dungeon.

HIS confinement, however, became a fortunate circumstance, for he converted his gaolers, named Alexander, Felician, and Longinus. This affair coming to the ears of the emperor, he ordered them immediately to be put to death, and the gaolers were accordingly beheaded.

VICTOR was then again put to the rack, and un|mercifully beaten with battoons, and then again sent to prison.

BEING a third time examined concerning his re|ligion, he persevered in his principles; a small altar was then brought, and he was commanded to offer incense upon it immediately. Fired with indigna|tion at the request, he boldly stepped forward, and with his foot overthrew both altar and idol.

〈…〉〈…〉 enraged the emperor Maximian, who was present▪ that he ordered the foot with which he had kicked the altar, to be immediately ••ut off; and Victor was afterwards sentenced to be thrown into a mill, and crushed to pieces with the stones.

THIS cruel sentence was, in some measure, put into execution; Victor was thrown into the mill, but part of the apparatus breaking, he was d••••wn from it terribly bruised▪ and the emperor not ••aving patience to stay till it was mended, ordered his ••e••d to be struck off, which was ••xecuted ••ccord|ingly, A. D. 303.

MAXIMUS, governor of Cilicia, being at Tarsus, three christians were brought before him by Dem••|t••••ur, a military officer.

TARAC••US being the eldest, and first in rank, was addressed first by Maximus, who asked him what he was? The prisoner replied, "A christian." This reply offending the governor, he again made the same demand, and was answered in a similar man|ner.

THE governor then told him, that he ought to sa|crifice to the gods, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that was the only way to pro|motion, riches, and honours; and that the emperors themselves did what he recommended to him.

TO this Tarachus repli••d, that avarice was a sin, and gold itse•••• an idol as abominable as any other; for it promoted frauds, treacheries, robberies, and murders; it induced men to deceive each other, by which in time they deceived themselves, and bribed the weak to their own eternal destruction. As for promotion, he desired it not, as he could not in con|science accept of any place, office, or post, which would subject him to pay adoration to idols; and with regard to honours, he desired not greater than the honourable title of christian.

BUT with respect to the emperors themselves be|ing pagans, he plainly said, that they were supersti|tiously deceived in adoring senseless idols, and evidently misled by the machinations of the devil himself.

FOR the boldness of this speech, his jaws were ordered to be broken, that the parts which uttered the words should suffer for their supposed impro|priety. He was then stripped, scourged, loaded with chains, and thrown into a dismal dungeon, to remain there till the trials of the other prisoners.

PRO••US was then brought before Maximus, who, as usual▪ asked his name?

THE prisoner boldly replied, the most valuable name he could boast of was that of a christian; but that the usual appellation by which he was distin|guished was Probus; that his father was a Thra|••••an, and that himself was born at Sida, in Pam|phylia.

MAXIMUS replied to this in the following words: "Your name of christian will be of little service to yo••, be therefore guided by me; sacrifice to the

gods, engage my friendship, and the emperor's favour.

PROBUS nobly answered, "That as he had relin|quished a considerable fortune to become a soldier of Christ, it might appear evident, that he neither cared for his friendship, or the emperor's favour."

HE was, by the governor's order, than scourged; and Demetrius, the officer, observing to him how his blood flowed, advised him to comply; but his only answer was, that those severities were agree|able to him. What! cries Maximu•• does he still persist in his madness? To which Probus rejoined, "That character is badly bestowed upon one who refuses to worship idols, or what is worse, devils."

HAVING been only scourged on the back, he was now scourged on the belly, which he suffered with as much intrepidity as before, still repeating; "The more my body suffers, and loses blood, the more my soul will grow vigorous, and be a gainer." He was then committed to gaol, loaded with irons, and his hands and feet stretched upon the stocks.

ANDRONICHUS was next brought up for examina|tion, when being asked the usual questions, he said, "I am a christian, a native of Ephesus, and descend|ed from one of the first families in that city." After a great deal of altercation, in which the governor was unsuccessful in endeavouring to dissuade him from his fate, he was ordered to undergo punish|ments similar to those of Tarachus and Probus, and then to be remanded to prison.

AFTER being confined some days, the three pri|soners were brought before Maximus again, who began first to reason with Tarachus, saying, that as old age was honoured from the supposition of its being accompanied by wisdom, he was in hopes that what had already past must, upon deliberation, have caused a change in his sentiments. Finding him|self, however, mistaken, he ordered him to be tor|tured by various means; particularly fire was placed in the palms of his hands; he was hung up by his feet, and smoaked with wet straw; a mixture of salt and vinegar was poured into his nostrils; and he was again remanded to prison.

PROBUS being then called for, and asked if he would sacrifice, replied, "I come better prepared than before; for what I have already suffered, has only confirmed and strengthened me in my resolu|tion. Employ your whole power upon me, and you will find, that neither you, nor your masters, the emperors, nor the gods whom you serve, nor the devil who is your father, shall oblige me to adore gods whom I know not."

THE governor then attempted to reason with him on religious subjects; for having a slender ••duca|tion, he was proud of shewing his talents; for those who know little are fond of talking much, and by mistaking casuistry for reason, would fain deceive others as they do themselves. He launched forth into the most extravagant praises of the pagan dei|ties, and as he enumerated them, described their respective powers, and separate virtues; and infer|red, ••••om what himself had said, that such deities, pos••essed of such admirable qualities, ought to be worshipped. However, continues he, as your chief objection is against a plurality of gods, I will not press you to sacrifice to all of them; sacrifice only to Jupiter, the chief, the most powerful, and most invincible of our deities.

PROBUS, however, easily confuted his argumen••s, turned his casuistry into ridicule, and in particular said, "Shall I pay divine honours to Jupiter, to one who married his o••n sister to an infamous debau|chee, as i•• even acknowledged by your own poets and priests?"

INCENSED at this speech, the governor ordered him to be struck upon the mouth, for uttering what he called blasphemy: his body was then scar|ed with hot irons; he was put to the rack, and af|terwards scourged▪ his head was then shaved, and hot coals placed upon the crown; and after all th••se tortures, he was again sent to confinement.

ANDRONICUS being again brought before Maxi|mus, the latter attempted to deceive him, by pre|tending that Tarachus and Probus had repe••ted of their obstinacy, and owned the gods of the empire. To this the prisoner answered; "Lay not, O go|vernor, such a weakness to the charge of those, who have appeared here before me in this cause,

nor imagine it to be in your power to shake my fix|ed resolution with artful speeches. I cannot be|lieve that they have disobeyed the laws of their fa|thers, renounced the hopes in our God•• and obey|ed your extravagant orders: nor will I ever fall short of them in faith and dependance upon our common Saviour: thus armed, I neither know your gods, nor fear your authority; fulfil your threats, execute your most sanguinary inventions, and employ every cruel art in your power on me; I am prepared to bear it for the sake of Christ."

THIS answer occasioned him to be cruelly scourg|ed, and his wounds were afterwards rubbed with salt. Being perfectly well again in a short time, the governor reproached the gaoler for having suf|fered some physician to at••end him. The gaoler, in his own defence, declared, that no person what|ever had been near him, or the other prisoners, and that he would willingly forfeit his head if any alle|gation of the kind could be proved against him. Andronicus corroborated the testimony of the gaol|er, and added, that the God whom he served was the most powerful of physicians, and the plant of grace the most salutary of vegetables.

THESE three worthy christians were brought to a third examination, when they retained their con|stancy, were again tortured, and a•• length ordered for execution.

BEING brought to the amphitheatre▪ several beasts were let l••ose upon them; but none of the animals, though hungry, would touch them This so greatly irritated Maximus, that he seve••••ly re|prehended the keeper, and ordered him to produce a beast that would execute the business for which he was wanted. The keeper then brought out a large bear, that had that very day destroyed three men; but this voracious creature, and a fierce lioness, both refused to touch the prisoners.

FINDING the design of destroying them by the means of wild beasts ineffectual, Maximus ordered them to be slain by a sword, which was accordingly executed on the 11th of October, A. D. 3••3. They all declared, previous to their martyrdom, that as death was the common lot of all men, they wished to met that for the sake of Christ, which they must of course fall a victim to on account of nature; and to resign that life to faith, which must otherwise be the prey of disease. These sentiments are noble, christian like, and philosophical; for as death is certain, the time and mode is not of that importance commonly imagined.

ROMANUS, a native of Palestine, was deacon of the church of Caesarea, at the time of the com|mencement of Dioclesian's persecution. Being at Antioch when the imperial order arrived for sacrifi|cing to idols, he was greatly afflicted to see many christians, through fear, submit to the idolatrous mandate, and deny their faith to preserve their lives.

REPREHENDING some of the recreant christians for their conduct, he was informed against to the emperor, and soon after apprehended. Being brought to the tribunal, he boldly confessed himself a christian, and said he was ready to suffer any thing which he inflicted upon him on account of his faith.

BEING condemned for his faith, he was scourged, put to the rack, his body torn with hooks, his flesh cut with knives, his face scarified, his teeth beat from their sockets, and his hair plucked up by the roots. Thus cruelly mangled, he turned to the governor, and very calmly thanked him for what he had done, and for having opened him so ma|ny mouths to preach the doctrines of christianity; for, says he, every wound is a mouth, to sing the praises of the Almighty.

THE following circumstance, which happened upon th•• occasion, is related by Prudentius, and others:

ROMANUS offered to stand to the decision of a young child, whose age must be free from malice, or any other vices; and to put the truth of the christian upon that test. As••••••piades (they add) accepted of the proposal, and agreed to put the merits of the cause to that issue; accordingly, a child of about seven years of age was called out of 〈…〉〈…〉 being asked whether he ••hought it 〈…〉〈…〉 tr••e, that men ought to wors••ip but one God 〈…〉〈…〉, or 〈…〉〈…〉. He answered,

that cert••inly▪ whatsoever men affirm to be God, must be but one, and as this one is Christ, he must of necessity be God; for that there are many gods, continued the boy, we children cannot believe. The governor, amazed at this, was highly enraged with the child, and calling him little villain, and young traitor, asked him who taught him that les|son? To which the child replied, "My mother, with whose milk I sucked in this lesson, that I must believe in Christ." This so incensed the governor, that he ordered the infant to be horsed and most se|verely whipt; insomuch that the beholders could not refrain from tears, the mother of the child on|ly excepted, who chid him for asking for a draught of water to be given to him, charging him to thrist for that cup which the infants of Bethlehem had drank of, and bidding him remember Isaac, who willingly offered his neck for the sacrifice to his fa|ther's sword. Whilst the woman was giving her son this lesson, the merciless executioner plucked the skin and hair from the crown of his head; his mother at the same time saying to him, "Though you suffer here, my child, you shall shortly be with him, who shall adorn thy naked head with a crown of eternal glory." Upon which the child smiled upon her and his executioners, and bore their stripes with man-like patience.

SOON after Romanus was ordered to be strangled, and the child to be beheaded; which sentences were executed on the 17th of November, A. D. 303.

MARCELLINUS was an ecclesiastic at Rome: be|ing apprehended on account of his religion, he was ordered to be privately executed in the forest, and was beheaded there accordingly.

PETER, a christian, apprehended for the same cause, was executed at the same time and place.

MUCH about this period Smara••••••us, ••arg••s, and Sy••i••cus, deacons of the chris••••••n church, were martyred; but the mode of their d••••ths is not specified by martyrologists.

SUSANNA, the niece of Cai••s, bishop of Rome, was pressed by the emperor D••••clesian to marry a noble Pagan, who was nearly 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to him.

SUSANNA, however, refused the honour intend|ed her, on account of her religion, which was that of a christian, which so greatly enraged the empe|ror, that she was beheaded by his order.

DOROTHEUS, the high chamberlain of the hous|hold to Dioclesian, was a christian, and took great pains to make converts. In his religious labours, he was joined by Gorgonius, another christian, and one belonging to the palace. They were both high in the emperor's favour, but they soon had an op|portunity of evincing, that worldly honours and temporary pleasures, were nothing when set in com|petition with the joys of immortality; for being informed against, they were first tortured and then strangled.

PETER, an eunuch belonging to the emperor, was a christian of singular modesty and humility. His humility caused him to undertake any menial office to serve the afflicted; and his benevolence occasioned him to give whatever he possessed, to those who needed assistance; convinced that riches did not constitute happiness, and that want could give instructions which wealth could never bestow.

BEING informed against as a christian, and con|fessing the charge, he was scourged till his flesh was torn in a most terrible manner; and then salt and vinegar were thrown upon the wounds.

HAVING endured these tortures with the utmost tranquility, he was laid on a gridi••on, and broiled over a slow fire till he expired.

CYPRIAN, known by the title of the magician, to distinguish him f••••m Cyprian, bishop of Car|thage, was a native of Antioch. He received a liberal education in his youth, and particularly ap|plied himself to astrology •• after which he travel|led for improvement through Greece, Egypt, In|dia, &c.

HAVING finished his studies he s••••••led near Ba|bylon, and being skilled in the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 mys••eries, he employed his ••alents in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to d••a•• women from chastity and and c••••••ugal faith, and in persecuting the christians, and ridiculing christi|anity.

IN the course of time he became acquainted with Justina, a young lady of Antioch, whose birth, beauty, and accomplishments, rendered her the admiration of all who knew her.

THIS lady had been educated in idolatry, but being happily converted to christianity, she induced her father and mother to embrace the same faith. Her modesty was remarkable, and her prudence in avoiding the carnal conversation of men was ex|tremely commendable. A Pagan gentleman falling in love with her, and not being able to obtain a fa|vourable return to his addresses, applied to Cyprian for assistance.

CYPRIAN undertook the design, but with a treach|e••ous intent; for under the pretence of acting for his friend, he determined if possible, to possess the lady himself. To effect this, he employed all his skill, and essayed a variety of infernal contrivances; but his endeavours proving ineffectual, he was ful|ly convinced that a superior power protected her from his machinations.

HIS reflections, on this account, awakened him to search into the truths of christianity, and his research became so beneficial, that he renounced the errors of paganism, and embraced a faith, of the excellency of which he could not fail to be con|vinced.

THE repentance of Cyprian was sincere; he de|termined to reform his conduct, and to make eve|ry amends in his power for the crimes he had com|mitted. Eusebius, a christian, confirmed him in this resolution, and prevented him from falling in|to despair for past follies.

CYPRIAN burnt his books of astrology and ma|gic, received baptism, and became animated with a powerful spirit of grace. The conversion of Cy|prian had a great effect on the pagan gentleman who paid his addresses to Justina, and he in a short time embraced christianity.

DURING the persecution of Dioclesian, Cyprian and Justina were seized upon as christians, when the former was torn with pincers, and the latter chastised; and after suffering other torments, both were beheaded.

SERGIUS was an officer in the Roman army, and attended the emperor Maximian into Syria. Being accused as a christian, he was ordered to sacrifice to Jupiter. Refusing to perform any such idolatrous command, he was stripped of his military habit, and, by way of derision, dressed in woman's cloaths. He then was forced to walk a considerable way with nails in his sandals, and had a conclusion put to his sufferings by being beheaded.

BACCHUS, an officer of the same rank as Ser|gius, was apprehended at the same time, under|went similar sufferings, and was beheaded on the same day, A. D. 303.

EULALIA, a Spanish lady of a christian family, was remarkable in her youth for a sweetness of temper, and solidity of understanding, seldom found in the capriciousness of juvenile years. Be|ing apprehended as a christian, the magistrate at|tempted, by the mildest means, to bring her over to paganism, but she answered him in so ironical a manner, and ridiculed the pagan deities with such asperity, that the judge, incensed at her behaviour, ordered her to be tortured.

HER sides were accordingly torn by hooks, and her breasts burnt in the most shocking manner, till the fire catching her head and face, she expired by the violence of the flame, in December, A. D. 303.

IN the year 304, the emperor Dioclesian falling 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the persecution was carried on by Galerius, and the governors of the several provinces, when many fell victims to the infatuated zeal, or infernal ma|lice of the persecutors▪ among whom are enume|rated the following persons:

VINCENT, a Spanish christian, was brought up by Valerius, bishop of Saragossa, who, on account of his great merits, ordained him a deacon. When the persecution reached Spain, Da••••an, the gover|nor of Terragona, ordered Valerius the bishop, and Vincent the deacon, to be ••ei••ed, loaded with irons, and imprisoned.

SOON after Dacian examined them with great asperity, and threatened them with death, unless they renounced their principles. Vincent under|taking to speak for both, as Valerius had an impe|diment in his speech, delivered himself with great freedom, and avowed their full determination to persist in the faith.

DACIAN, in a rage at his freedom of speech, declared, that unless he immediately burnt incense to the gods he despised, he should fa••l a sacrifice to the contempt he expressed.

THE prisoners being firm in their resolutions, Valerius was banished, and the whole of Dacian's rage directed against Vincent, who was racked, had his limbs dislocated, his flesh torn with hooks, and was laid on a gridiron, which had not only a fire placed over it, but spikes at the top, which run into his flesh. In this situation, while one side was broiling over the fire, the other was tormented with red hot irons, or salamanders; and then salt was thrown over the wounds.

THESE torments neither destroying him, nor changing his resolutions, he was remanded to pri|son, and confined in a small loathsome dark dun|geon, which, to make it more disagreeable, was st••ewed with sharp flints, and pieces of broken glass. Orders were given not to suffer him to have any provisions whatever, and that the news of his death should be carried to Dacian as soon as known.

THE keepers, by the time they thought him fa+mi••hed, entered the dungeon, when, instead of seeing only a corpse as they expected, they beh••ld, to their great astonishment, Vincent at prayers, his wounds healed, and his body in tolerable 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

THIS speedy recovery and preservation had 〈◊〉〈◊〉 an 〈…〉〈…〉 keeper••, that it 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the 〈…〉〈…〉 means of their conversion.

〈◊〉〈◊〉, however, 〈…〉〈…〉 heart, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to 〈…〉〈…〉 of being 〈◊〉〈◊〉 by 〈…〉〈…〉 prepared for him of so severe a nature, as to make him sink under them.

HERE, however, his malice was again disap|pointed, for before the instruments could be pre|pared, God took him to himself, and he died with all the serenity of a good conscience, and as much calmness as if he had only sunk into a gentle slum|ber.

THE inveterate hatred conceived by Dacian against Vincent did not conclude with his death, for he ordered that his body should be exposed in the open fields to the birds of prey; but they not offering to touch it, he commanded that it should be thrown into the river, which was done accord|ingly, A. D. 304, his death happening on the 22d of January, in that year.

THE persecution of Dioclesian began particular|ly to rage in A. D. 304, when many christians were put to cruel tortures, and the most painful and igno••••inious deaths: the most eminent and particular of whom we shall enumerate.

SATURNINUS, a Priest of Albitina, a town of Africa, used to officiate in his clerical capacity, preach, and administer the sacrament to a society of christians, who privately assembled at the house of Octavius Felix: for the severity of the times was such, that they could not publicly perform their religious duties.

BEING informed against, Saturninus, with four of his children, and sev••••••l 〈◊〉〈◊〉 persons▪ were apprehended; and that their pu••ishment 〈…〉〈…〉 more exem••l••••y 〈…〉〈…〉, they were se••t to 〈…〉〈…〉, whe••e the•• were examined 〈…〉〈…〉.

ON the 〈…〉〈…〉,

tearing his flesh with hooks, burning with hot irons, &c.

AFTER being tortured, he was remanded to pri|son, and there starved to death.

THE four children of Saturninus, after being variously tormented, remained steady in their faith, on which they were sent back to the dungeon in which their father was confined, and shared the ve|ry same fate with their father.

EIGHT other christians were tortured on the same day as Saturninus, and much in the same manner. Two expired on the spot through the severity of their sufferings, and the other six being sent back to prison, were suffocated by means of the closeness of the dungeon.

DATIVUS, a noble Roman Senator; Thelico, a pious christian; Victoria, a young lady of consi|derable family and fortune, with some others of less consideration, had been all auditors of Saturni|nus, was seized at the time he was, tortured in a similar manner, and perished by the same means; sealing their testimony with their lives, and receiv|ing the glorious crown of martyrdom as a reward for their sufferings in this transitory life.

AGAPE, Chionia, and Irene, three sisters, were seized upon at Thessalonica, when Dioclesian's per|secution reached Greece. They had been educated in the christian faith, but had taken great precautions not to be seized on that account, being, from the softness of their natures, unwilling to meet the rage of the times.

HENCE they retired to a solitary place, and spent their hours in performing religious duties. Being, however, discovered and seized, they renounced their former timidity, blamed themselves for being so fearful, and begged of God to strengthen them against the great trial they had to undergo.

AGAPE being examined before Duleatius, the governor, was asked whether she was disposed to comply with the laws of the land, and obey the mandates of the emperor? She answered, "That being a christian, she could not comply with any laws which recommended the worship of idols and devils; that her resolution was fixed, and nothing should deter her from continuing in it to the last moment of her life."

CHIONIA being next examined, replied in the same manner as her sister had done, when the go|vernor not being able to draw them from their faith, pronounced sentence of condemnation on them; pursuant to which they were burnt, and received a crown of martyrdom in the flames, March 25, A. D. 304.

IRENE was then brought before the governor, who fancied that the death of her sisters would have an effect upon her fears, and that the dread of si|milar sufferings would engage her to comply with his proposals. He therefore exhorted her to ac|knowledge the heathen deities, to sacrifice to them, to partake of the victims, and to deliver up her books relative to christianity.

SHE heard these propositions with indignation, and positively refused to comply with any of them; the governor asked her, Who it was that persuaded her, and her sisters, to keep those books and wri|tings? She answered, "It was that God who com|manded them to love him to the last; for which reason she was resolved to submit to be burned alive rather than give them up into the hands of his pro|fessed enemies."

THE governor finding that he could make no impression on her, ordered her to be exposed naked in the streets, which shameful order having been executed, she was burnt April 1, A. D. 304, at the same place where her sisters suffered.

AGATHO, a man of a pious turn of mind, with Cassice, Philippa, and Eutychia, were martyred about the same time; but the particulars have not been transmitted to us.

MARCELLINUS, bishop of Rome, who succeeded Caius in that see, was greatly perplexed during this persecution; and having strongly opposed paying divine honours to Dioclesian, who wished to exact them from the people, and to appear as a god, he was at length seized and committed to prison.

IN this situation his conduct was steady, his con|stancy immoveable, and his patience great. He suffered martyrdom, by a variety of tortures, in the year 304, comforting his soul till he expired with 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••••ospect of those glorious rewards it would receive by the tortures suffered in the body.

T••••••DOTUS, a Dalmatian, kept an inn at Ancy|ra. Being a christian, and of a very humane dis|position, he devoted a great part of his time to visit the afflicted, and a great part of hi•• property to re|lieve the poor; he assisted the sick in body, and converted the sick in soul, so that he was in every capacity a true servant of Christ.

THEOTE••NUS, the governor of these parts, whose cruelty could be equalled by nothing but his bigotry, received the mandate for persecuting the christians with great satisfaction, and wrote the emperor word that he would do his utmost endeavours to root out christianity from every place where he had the least power.

THE pagans being encouraged by the governor, began to info••m against, abuse, and persecute the christians. Great numbers were seized upon and imprisoned; their goods were destroyed, and their estates confiscated. Many fled into the woods or retired to caves, where some supported themselves by feeding upon such roots as they could casually find, and others perished by famine. Indeed, ma|ny were starved in the city, by means of the fol|lowing singular stratagem: The governor gave strict orders, that no provisions whatever should be exposed to sale in the markets, without having been first consecrated to the idols; hence the christians were compelled to eat what had been offered to the devil, or to refrain from food and perish. The latter dreadful alternative was chosen by many, who he|roically gave up their lives to preserve the purity of their faith.

DURING these critical times, Theodotus did all that he could to comfort the imprisoned, and buried the bodies of several who had been martyred, though it was forbidden, on pain of death. He likewise privately assisted many with such food as they might use with a safe conscience, for having laid in a great stock of corn and wi••e, he sold it out at prime cost.

A christian, named Polychronicus, being seized, forfeited his faith, in order to preserve his life, and compounded for a frail existence, by informing against his friend Theodotus, who ••••aring of his treachery, voluntarily surrendered himself to the governor.

ON his arrival in the court, he surveyed the di|vers instruments of torture with a smile, and seem|ed totally regardless of their effect.

BEING placed at the bar, the governor informed him, that it was still in his power to save him|self, and to escape the torments prepared for diso|bedience, by sacrificing to the gods of the empire; "and (continued he) if you renounce your faith in Christ, I promise you my friendship, and the em|peror's protection, and will constitute you one of the magistrates of the town."

THEODOTUS, in his answer, discovered great courage and eloquence; he absolutely refused to re|nounce his faith, declined the friendship of the go|vernor, and protection of the emperor, upon the terms proposed, and treated the Pagan idols with the greatest ridicule.

ON hearing this, the Pagans in general were ex|tremely clamorous for the prisoner to be immediate|ly punished; and the priests in particular rent their clothes, and tore their ••naplets, the badges of their offices, through rage. The governor, without he|sitation, complied with their desire, when Theodo|tus was scourged, torn with hooks, and then pla|ced upon the rack. After this, vinegar was pour|ed into his wounds, his flesh was seared with burn|ing torches, and his teeth were knocked out of their sockets. He was then remanded to prison, and by the way, pointing to his mangled body, he said to the people, "it was bu•• just that christians should suffer for him who suffered for us all."

AT the expiration of five days, he was brought from prison, tortured, and then beheaded, A. D. 304.

VICTOR, a native of Ancyra, was accused by the priests of Diana, for having abused their goddess. For this imputed crime he was seized upon, and

committed to prison, his house plundered, his fa|mily turned out of doors, and his estate confiscated.

BEING put to the rack, his resolution failed him, and he began to weaver in his faith, through the severity of his torments. Being carried back to prison, in order to make a full recantation, God punished him for his intended apostacy; for his wounds mortified, and put an end to his life in a few days.

SEVEN aged women of Ancyra, being apprehend|ed for their faith, were examined before the gover|nor, who on finding them stedfast in their religious principles, reviled their belief, ridiculed their age, and ordered them to be delivered over to some young libertines, that their virtue m••ght be in|sulted.

ONE of the debauchees, more bold and forward than the rest, seized upon the eldest of the women whose name was Tecusa, who thus addressed him: "What designs, child, can you have on us, who are worn out with age and infirmities? I am now more than three score and ten years old, my com|panions are not much younger; you may look on us as so many rotten carcases, as we shall soon be, for the governor after death refuses ••s burial;" then lifting up her veil, she shewed him her grey hairs, and then went on: "You may, perhaps, have a mother of nearly the same age as myself, this should give you some respect to us." The young men, though entire libertines, were so ••ffected with this speech, that they desisted and went their ways.

THE governor having failed in his design of ha|ving them prostituted, determined to ••ompel them to assist in the idolatrous rites of wash••ng the god|desses Minerva and Diana; for it is ••o be under|stood, that in Ancyra, it was the custom annually to wash the images of those heathen goddesses, and that the washing was considered as a material part of the adoration of them.

THESE seven christian women, whose names were ••ecusa, Phamme, Claudia, Alexandria, Julitta, Eu|phrasia, and Matrona, were forced to the temple; but a••••olutely refusing to wash the idols, the gover|nor was so enraged that he ordered them all to have stones tied about their necks, and to be pushed into the water intended for th•• washing, in which they gloriously expired.

TIMOTHY, a worthy christian, being carried be|fore Urban, governor of Palestine, was sentenced to be burnt to death by a slow fire; which sentence was executed at Gaza, in the year 304, on the 19th day of August.

PHILIP, bishop of Herac••e••, had, in every act of his life, appeared as a good christian; the chief of his disciples were Severus, a priest, and Hermes, a deacon; and these three did all i•• their power to promote the cause of christ••••nity.

THIS worthy bishop was advised to secrete him|self, in order to avoid the storm of the persecution; but he reproved those who counselled him so to do, telling them that their merit would be enhanced by their sufferings, and that death had no terror for the virtuous.

AN officer named Aristomachus, being employed to shut up the christian churches in Heraclea, Philip took great pains to convince him, that the shutting up buildings made by hands could not destroy chris|tianity, while the living temples of the Lord remain|ed; for the true faith consisted not in the places where God is adored, but in the hearts of those who adore him.

Being however denied entrance into the church, where he used to preach, Philip took up his station at the door, and there exhorted the people to patience and perseverance.

THESE things caused him to be seized and carried before the governor, who severely 〈◊〉〈◊〉 him, and then continued to speak sternly in th••se 〈◊〉〈◊〉: "Bring all the vessels used in your worship, and the scriptures which you read and teach the people, and surre••••••r them to me, before you are forced thereto by tortures." "If" (replied the bishop) "you take any pleasure in seeing us suffer, we are prepared for the worst you can do. This infirm body is in your power; use it as you please. The vessels you demand shall be delivered up, for God is not honoured by gold and silver, but by the fear of his power; the ornaments of the souls of his ser|vants

are more pleasing to him, than the decora|tions of churches: but as to the sacred books, it is neither proper for me to part with them, nor for you to receive them." This answer so much incensed the governor, that he ordered one Mucassor, a per|son particularly distinguished for inhumanity, to tor|ture the prelate. Hermes, expressing himself free|ly against such barbarities, was likewise ordered to be scourged.

PROCEEDING to the place where the scriptures, and the church plate were kept, both were seized by the pagans; the church was unroofed, the doors were walled up, the plate was embezzled, and the scriptures were burnt.

PHILIP being taken to the market-place, was or|dered to sacrifice to the Roman deities in general, and to a very handsome image of Hercules in parti|cular; to which command, "Alas!" replied the prelate, "how unhappy are you, who are thus grossly mistaken in the nature of the deity, and so ignorant in the truth, as to worship your own work|manship: what value is there in gold, silver, bras••, iron, or lead, which are dug out of the earth? You are unacquainted with the divinity of Christ, which is incomprehensible to human capacities▪ but what power can your idols boast, which are made by base mechanics, a drunken statuary, or a debauched car|ver, and tricked up by the arts of the taylor and the goldsmith? and yet these are your gods." And after some other observations on the absurdities of the pagan religion, he concluded, that from what he had already said, it appeared that the heathens wor|shipped what might lawfully be trod on, and made gods of such things as Providence had designed for their use.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 governor then tried the constancy of Hermes, out finding him as inflexible as the bishop, he com|mitted them both to prison. Soon after this, the governor's time of ruling these parts b••••ng expired, a new governor named Justin arrived; but he was to the full as cruel as his predecessor.

PHILIP was dragged by the feet through the streets, severely scourged, and then brought again to the governor, who charged him with obstinate r••sness, in continuing disobedient to the imperial decrees; but he boldly replied, "My present be|haviour is not the effect of rashness, but proceeds from my love and fear of God, who made the world, and who will judge the living and the dead, whose commands I dare not transgress. I have hitherto done my duty to the emperors, and am always ready to comply with their just orders, according to the doctrine of our Lord Christ, who bids us give both to Caesar and to God their due▪ but I am obliged to prefer heaven to earth, and to obey God rather than man."

THE governor, on hearing this speech, imm••••i|ately passed sentence on him to be burnt, which was executed accordingly, and the martyr expired, sing|ing praises to God in the midst of the flames.

HERMES, for beha••ing in a similar manner; and Severus, who had surrendered himself up in order to suffer with his friends, both met with the same fate. Such were the effects of a diabolical zeal for the adoration of idols, and such the consequences of the blindness of pagan superstitions.

AGRICOLA, as we are informed by St. Ambrose, was a christian of so very amiable a disposition, that he even gained the esteem and admiration of the pagans. Being apprehended as a christian, he was crucified in imitation of the death of our Saviour: and his body, together with the cross, were buried in one grave, at Bologne, in Italy.

VITALIS, the servant and convert of the above martyr, Agricola, was seized upon the same account as his master, and being put to the torture, died under the hands of his tormentors, through the se|verity of his sufferings.

VICTORIUS, Carpophorus, Severus, and Seve••ia|nus, were brothers, and all four employed in places of great trust and honour in the city of Rome. Ha|ving exclaimed against the worsship of idols, they were apprehended, and scourged with the plumbe|tae, or scourges, to the ends of which were fastened leaden balls. This punishment was exercised with such excess of cruelty, that the pious brothers fell martyrs to its severity.

CHRYSOGONUS, a worthy christian of Aquileia,

[figure]

Divers kinds of Tortures 〈◊〉〈◊〉 on the Pri••itive Martyrs during the 10.^•• Roman•• Per••••cu••••on.

Cruelties inflicted on the Primitive Christians. their Bodies being tied to Stakes▪ thrust through 〈…〉〈…〉 their nails with Thorns. 〈…〉〈…〉 Jr.

was beheaded by order of Dioclesian, for having instructed a young lady of that city in the christian faith.

ANASTASIA, the young lady brought up by the foregoing martyr, was descended from an illustrious Roman family. Her mother, named Flavia, was a christian, and dying while her daughter was an in|fant, she bequeathed her to the care of Chrysogonus, with a strict injunction to instruct her in the princi|ples of christianity. This Chrysogonus punctually performed; but the father of the young lady, who was a pagan, gave her in marriage to a person of his own persuasion, named Publius.

THE husband was of a good family, but bad morals, and having spent his wife's and his own patrimony, he had the b••seness to inform against her as a christian.

PUBLIUS however dying soon after, his wife was released; but continuing to perform many charitable actions to distressed christians, she was again appre|hended, and delivered up to Florus, governor of Illyricum. Florus commanded that she should be put to the torture, when finding her constant in the faith, he ordered her to be burnt, which sentence was put in execution on December 25, A. D. 304. The event taking place about a month after the martyrdom of Chrysogonus, her instructor.

MOURIS and Thea, two christian women of Gaza, were martyred in that city some time in the year 304. The former died under the hands of her tor|mentors, and the latter perished in prison of the wounds she had received in being tortured.

TIMOTHY, a deacon of Mauritania, and Ma••ra his wife, had not been united together by the bands of wedlock above three weeks, when they were se|parated from each other by the persecution.

TIMOTHY being apprehended as a christian, was carried before Arrianus, the governor of Thebais▪ who did all in his power to allure him from his faith, and induce him to embrace idolatry.

FINDING his endeavours were vain, and knowing that Timothy had the keeping of the Holy Scrip|tures, the governor commanded him to deliver them up, that they might be burnt: to which Timothy answered, "Had I children, I would sooner deliver them up to sacrificed, than part from the word of God." The governor being much incensed at this reply, ordered his eyes to be put out with red hot irons, saying, "The books shall at least be useless to you, for you shall not see to read them."

HIS patience under the operation was so great, that the governor grew more exasperated; he, therefore, in order, if possible, to overcome his for|titude, ordered him to be hung up by the feet, with a weight tied about his neck, and a gag in his mouth.

THE worthy christian underwent this severity of treatment with the greatest courage, when some busy person acquainted the governor that he had been but newly married to a wife, of whom he was extremely fond. Arrianus was glad to hear this, as he thought that love might effect what menaces could not, and that an affection for his wife might prevail over that intrepid spirit which could sustain so many torments with such resolution.

MAURA was accordingly sent for, and promised a handsome rew••rd, with the life of her husband, if she could prevail upon him to sacrifice to the idols. This was a severe attack upon the principles of Maura: weak by nature, wavering in her faith, tempted by a bribe, and impelled by an unbound|ed affection for her husband, she undertook the impious task.

BEING conducted to him, she assailed his constan|cy with all the persuasive language of real affection. When the gag was taken out of his mouth, in or|der to give him an opportunity of replying, instead of consenting to his wife's intreaties, as they expect|ed, he greatly blamed her mistaken love, and de|clared his resolution of dying for the faith. The consequence of which was, that Maura repea••ed her importunities, till the martyr, her husband, re|proached her so strongly with her weakness, that she returned to his way of thinking, and resolved to imitate his courage and fidelity, and either to ac|company, or follow him to glory. Timothy ad|vised her to repair her fault by declaring that reso|lution

to the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, by whose order she had 〈…〉〈…〉 shameful and sinful commission. Maura made some 〈◊〉〈◊〉, at the first, to comply with his advic••, to un••••••take this dangerous and arduous ta••••. However, being further s••rengthen|ed by his exhortations, and the grace of God, she went to Arrianus, and told him, that she was united to her husband in opinion as well as love, and was ready to suffer any thing to atone for her late crime, in wishing to make him an apostate.

THE governor, after trying in vain to alter her resolution, ordered her to be tortured, which was executed with great severity. After this Timothy and Maura were crucified near each other, A. D. 304, both receiving the crown of martyrdom with the greatest intrepidity.

SABINUS, bishop of Assisium, refusing to sacrifice to Jupiter, and pushing the idol from him, had his hands cut off by the order of the governor of Tus|cany. After patiently suffering this barbarity, he was committed to prison, where he remained a con|siderable time without any assistance or relief but what he received from a christian widow, whose blind grandson had been by him restored to sight.

THE governor, who was himself afflicted with sore eyes, on hearing this intelligence, revolved its singularity in his mind, and began to consider the behaviour of the christians, and the tenets of christi|anity, in a more candid light than he had hitherto done. Sending for Sabinus, he informed him that he n•••• entertained very different sentiments to what he had hitherto done, both with respect to him and his faith; then throwing himself at the feet of Sa|binus, he intreated him to afford assistance both to his inward and outward ailments, and to undertake the cure of his soul and body.

THE fervency with which he spoke convinced Sa|binus of his sincerity. Having received proper in|structions concerning the principles of christianity, he was baptized, and the disorder in his eyes soon disappeared.

THE conversion of the governor was followed by that of his whole family, and some of his friends.

THE tyrant Maximian being informed of th••s•• circumstances, immediately sent one of his principal officers, named Lucius, to Assisium, who accor••ing to his instructions, ordered the governor and all his family to be beheaded.

SOON after their execution, Sabinus himself was scourged to death, in the month of December, A. D. 304.

MARCELLUS and Experantius, two ecclesiastics, who officiated under Sabinus, were scourged in a most dreadful manner, but remaining constant in their faith, their flesh was torn with hooks till they expired.

TIRED with the farce of state, and public business, the emperors Dioclesian and Maximian resigned the imperial diadem, and were succeeded by Constan|tius and Galerius; the former, a prince of the most mild and humane disposition, and the latter, equally remarkable for his cruelty and tyranny.

THESE divided the empire into two equal govern|ments; Galerius ruling in the east, and Constantius in the west; and the people in the two governments felt the effects of the different dispositions of the two emperors; for those in the west were governed in the mildest manner, but such as resided in the east felt all the miseries of oppression.

WITH respect to the christians, to whom Galerius bore a most prejudiced and implacable hatred, we are informed, that "he not only condemned them to tortures, but to be bu••nt in slow fires, after this horrible manner: they were first chained to a post, then a gentle fire put to the soles of their feet, which contracted the c••llus till it fell off from the bone•• then flambeaux just extinguished were put to all parts of their bodies, so that they might be torture•• all over; and care was taken to keep them alive, by throwing of cold water in their faces, and giving them some thereof to wash their mouths, l••st their throats should be dried up with thirst, and cl••••k them. Thus their miseries were lengthened out whole days, till, at last, their skins being consumed, and they just ready to expire, were thrown into a great fire, and had their bodies burnt to as••es; af|ter

[figure]

〈…〉〈…〉 CH••ISTIANS alive and cutting out their Tongues•• during the 10^•• 〈…〉〈…〉▪

〈…〉〈…〉 Torture 〈…〉〈…〉.

which they were ground to powder, and thrown into some river."

AMONG the many martyred by the order of Ga|lerius, we shall enumerate the most eminent.

AMPHIANUS was a gentleman of eminence in Lu|cia, and a scholar to Eusebius; pressing through the crowd while the proclamation for sacrificing to idols was read, he caught the governor Urbianus by the hand, and severely reproved him for his impiety.

THE governor being highly incensed at this free|dom, ordered him to be put to the torture, and then thrown into the sea, in the waves of which he expired.

AEDESIUS, brother to the above martyr, was, for nearly the same offence, much about the same time, martyred in a similar manner at Alexandria.

JULITTA, a Lyconian of royal descent, but more celebrated for her virtues than noble blood, was a christian lady of great humility.

WHEN the edict for sacrificing to idols was pub|lished at Iconium, she withdrew from that city to avoid the bigoted rage of Domitian the governor, taking with her only her young son, Cyricus, and two women servants. She was, however, seized at Tarsus, and being carried before Alexander, the governor, she freely acknowledged that she was a christian.

FOR this confession her son was taken from her, and she was put to the rack, and tortured with great severity; but she bore all her sufferings with a true christian fortitude.

YOUNG Cyricus cried bitterly to get at his mo|ther; when the governor observing the beauty, and being melted at the tears of the child, took him upon his knee, and endeavoured to pacify him. Nothing, however, could quiet Cyricus, he still called upon the name of his mother, and at length, in imitation of her words, lisped out, "I am a christian." This innocent exp••ession converted the governor's com|passion into rage; he lost the man in the bigot, a••d throwing the child furiously against the pavement, dashed out its brains.

THE mother, who from the rack beheld the whole transaction, thanked the Almighty that her child was gone before her; and she should be without any anxiety concerning his future welfare, and cer|tain that now no advantage could be taken of his tender years, to pervert his principles, and defraud him of his salvation.

TO complete the execution, Julitta had boiling pitch poured on her feet, her sides torn with hooks, and received the conclusion of her martyrdom, by being beheaded, April 16, A. D. 305.

PANTALEON, a native of Nicomedia, was taught most branches of human learning by his father, who was a pagan, and the precepts of the gospel by his mother, who was a christian.

APPLYING to the study of medicine, he became eminent in the knowledge of physic, and in process of time was appointed physician to the emperor Galerius.

HIS name in Greek signifies humane, and the ap|pellation well-suited his nature, for he was one of the most benevolent men living. He assisted the poor, to the utmost of his fortune; and, by the help of God, his skill in physic was attended with the most astonishing success.

HIS reputation roused the jealousy of the pagan physicians, who accused him to the emperor. Ga|lerius, finding him a christian, which he had not before known, ordered him to be tortured, and then beheaded, which was done July 27, A. D. 305.

HERMOLAUS, a venerable and pious christian, of a great age, and an intimate acquaintance of Pan|taleon's, suffered martyrdom for his faith on the same day, and in the same manner as Pantaleon.

JULITTA, of Cappadocia, was a lady of distin|guished capacity, great virtue, and uncommon courage: she was martyred on account of a law|suit, of which Basil, bishop of Ca••sarea, gives us the following particulars:

〈…〉〈…〉 of the 〈…〉〈…〉 in 〈◊〉〈◊〉, who was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 pos|se••••ed 〈…〉〈…〉 of her 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and had seized both he•• 〈…〉〈…〉. This oppres|sive usurper had found means to bribe the judges in his favour, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 persons to swear, that the land and goods in dispute were his property. Ju|litta, supported by the justness of her ••ause, thought t••••t she had nothing more to do, but to give the magistrates a plain and an ingenuous account of her ti••le. When the cause came to be tried, the de|fendant, instead of supporting his claim, or giving any answer to the plaintiff's plea, urged that the law would not suffer him to engage at that bar, with one of a different religion•• so that he could not proceed in his defence, unles•• the lady, who was the plaintiff, renounced christianity.

"THE judge was too well instructed not to se|cond the motion, and gave it as his opinion, that what he insisted upon was according to the laws of the empire. He then ordered an altar to be brought in, and some fire to be put on it, and incense to be prepared, and then told the parties, that if they ex|pected, either of them, ••o enjoy any benefit of the laws, they must both of them offer incense to the gods.

"THE usurper, who was an heathen, immediate|ly complied; but Julitta made it appear, that her faith was much dearer to her than her goods, or even than life itself. "No, said she, my affection to what is undoubtedly my own, shall never hinder me from sacrificing my all, and even my life, if re|quired, rather than violate my fidelity to my God and Saviour." This declaration greatly incensed the judge, but Julitta went on with the same intre|pidity, and thanked God for the assurance she had of an eternal inheritance, while what was her own upon earth was disputed, and unjustly taken from her. The magistrate made several attempts to per|suade her to renounce her faith, but was always answered that she was the servant of Christ, and as such she could not listen to his proposals without horror; upon this she was condemned to be burnt: which sentence was executed accordingly, A. D. ••••••.

EUSTRATIUS, secretary to the governor of Ar|minia, was thrown into a fiery furnace, for exhort|ing some christians, who had been apprehended, to pers••vere in their faith. Auxeutius and Eugenius, two of Eustratius's adherents, were burnt at Nico|polis; Mardarius, another friend of his, expired u••der the hands of his tormentors; and Orestes, a military officer, was, for wearing a gold cross at his breast, broiled to death on a gridiron.

THEODORE, a Syrian by birth, a soldier by pro|fession, and a christian by faith, set fire to the temple of Cybele, in Amasia, through an honest indigna|tion at the idolatrous worship practised therein: for which being apprehended, he was severely scourged, and then burnt, February 18, A. D, 306.

DOROTHY a christian of Cappadocia, was, by the governor's order, placed under the care of two women, who had become apostates to the faith, with a view that she might be induced to follow their example.

HER discourses, however, had such an effect upon the two apostates, that they became re••con|verted, and were put to death for not succeeding. Soon after which Dorothy herself was tortured, and then beheaded.

PANCRATIUS, or Pancrass, was a native of Phry|gia, but being made a christian and brought to Rome, by his uncle, he there suffered martyrdom, being beheaded soon after the decease of his uncle, who died a natural death.

BASILIDES, Nabor, Nazarius, and Cyrinus, four worthy christian officers at Rome, were thrown into prison for their faith, and being comdemned, were scourged with rods of wire, and then be|headed.

NICANDER and Marcian, two Roman military officers, being christians, were apprehended on account of their faith. As they were both me•• of great abilities in their profession, the utmost endeavours were made to induce them to re|nounce christianity; but these endeavours being found ineffectual, they were orde••ed to be be+headed.

CROWDS of people attended the execution, a|mong whom were the wives of the two sufferers. The consort of Nicander was a christian, and en|couraged her husband to meet his fate with for|titude; but the wife of Marcian being a pagan, intreated her husband to save himself, for the sake of her and her child. Marcian reproved her for her idolatry and folly, but embraced her and the infant before the stroke was given. Nicander like|wise took leave of his wife in the most affection|ate manner, and then both, with great willingness, received the crown of martyrdom.

IN the kingdom of Naples, several martyrdoms took place: in particular, Januarius, bishop of Be|neventum; Sosius, deacon of Misene; Proculus, another deacon; Eytyches and Acutius, two lay|men; Festus, a deacon; and Desiderius, a reader, were all, on account of being christians, condemn|ed, by the governor of Campania, to be devoured by wild beasts. The savage animals, however, not touching them, they were ordered to be beheaded, which sentence was put into execution immediately.

MARCELLUS, a centurian, of the Trajan legion, was posted at Tangier, and being a ch••istian suf|fered martyrdom, of which we have the following account:

"IT happened, that while he was there, the emperor's birth-day was kept with great solemnity, and the sacrifices to the pagan idols ma••e a consi|derable part of that solemnity. All t••e subjects of the empire were expected on that occasion, to conform to the blind religion of their prince; but Marcellus, who had been well instructed in the duties of his profession, expressed his detestation of those profane practices, by throwing away his belt, the badge of his military character, at the head of his company, declaring aloud, that he was a soldier of Christ, the eternal king. He then quitted his arms, and added, that from that mo|ment he ceased to serve the emperor; and that he thus expressed his contempt of the gods of the empire, which were no better than deaf and dumb idols. "If (continued he) their emperial majesties impose the obligation of sacrificing to the•••• and their gods, as a necessary condition of their se••••ice, I here throw up my commission, and quit the army."

HIS behaviour and speeches occasioned an order for his being beheaded, on a double score, viz. de|sertion from the army, and impiety against the gods of the empire. He heard the sentence with intrepidity, and received the crown of martyrdom with pleasure.

CASSIAN, secretary to the court which tried Mar|cellus, expressing his disapprobation of such severe proceedings, was ordered into custody; when avow|ing himself a christian, he met with the same fate, and suffered martyrdom in a similar manner.

QUIRINUS, bishop of Siscia, being carried before Matenius, the governor, was ordered to sacrifice to the pagan deities, agreeable to the edicts of vari|ous Roman emperors. To which he replied, "The emperors insist upon our sacrificing to their deities, against the express prohibition of God; to deities which we can by no means own, because they are, in reallity, nothing: whereas the power that that I serve is every where, above all things, sup|ports, governs, and disposes of all things, as he pleases; for he is the sovereign master, and sole au|thor of the universe." For this speech he was or|dered to be severely beaten.

WHILE he was under the hand of the executioner, the governor was urgent with with him to sacrifice, and offered to make him a priest of Jupiter. To which Quirinus replied, That he was already enga|ged in the priestly office, while he thus offered a sacrifice to the true God. "I (says he) scarce feel my torments, and am ready to suffer still greater, that my example may shew those whom God has committed to my care, the way to the glory we wish for."

THE governor perceiving his constancy, sent him to goal, and ordered him to be heavily ironed; flat|tering himself, that the hardships of a goal, and the weight of his chains, might overcome his resolu|tions.

BEING deceived in his expectations, he was sent to Amantius, the principal governor of Permonia,

now Hungary, who loaded him with chains, and carried him through the principal towns of the Danube exposing him to ridicule wherever he went.

ARRIVING at length at Sabaria, and finding that Quirinus would not renounce his faith, he ordered him to be cast into a river, with a stone fastened to his neck.

THIS sentence being put into execution, Quiri|nus floated about for some time, and exhorted the people in the most pious terms, concluding his ad|monitions with this prayer:

"IT is no new thing, O all-powerful Jesus, for thee to stop the course of rivers, or to cause a man to walk upon the water, as thou didst thy servant Peter: the people have already seen the proof of thy power in me; grant me now to lay down my life for thy sake, O my God."

ON pronouncing the last words, he immediate|ly sunk and died, June 4, A. D. 308; and his bo|dy was afterwards taken up, and buried by some pious christians.

FIVE Egyptian Christians, who were upon a visit to their afflicted brethren in Caesaria, were ap|prehended and carried before Firmilian, the govern|or of Palestine, who on questioning them concern|ing whence they came, and what they were? was answered by one, in the name of the rest, that they were christians, and belonged to the glorious city of Jerusalem, speaking allegorically of the hea|venly Jerusalem. The governor was surprised a•• the answer, as he knew Vespasian, and his son 〈◊〉〈◊〉, had destroyed the ancient Jerusalem; and that the inconsiderable town erected by Adrian upon the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, was called Elia Capitolina: he therefore 〈◊〉〈◊〉 more particularly concerning it. The christian, who had spoken before, again replied, and pursuing the allegory, described, with great force 〈◊〉〈◊〉 imagination, the great beauty, riches, and s••••••ngth of the place. Firmilian still mistaking the christian's meaning, by understanding his words in a literal sense, was dreadfully alarmed; for not dreaming that a heavenly city was alluded to, ••e fancied that the christians were strengthening and fortifying some place, in order to revolt from their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to the emperor. Full of this mist••ke, and enraged at the supposed disloyalty, he condemn|ed the five prisoners to be cruelly tormented, and then beheaded; which sentence was executed Feb. 16, A. D. 309.

PAM••••ILUS, a native of Phoenicia, of a consi|derable family, was a man of such extensive learning that he was called a second Origen. He was received into the body of the clergy at Caesarea, where he established a public library, and spent his time in the practice of every christian virtue. He copied the greatest part of the works of Origen, with his own hand, and, assisted by Eusebius, gave a correct copy of the Old Testa|ment, which had suffered greatly by the ignorance or negligence of former transcribers. He likewise gave public lectures on religious and literary sub|jects, in an academy which he had erected for that purpose, till the year 307, when he was apprehend|ed, and carried before Urban, the governor of Pe|lestine.

URBAN, thinking that a man of his abilities must be of great importance to any party, did all he could to induce him to embrace paganism. Find|ing his endeavours vain, he changed persuasions into menaces, and from intreating began to threaten.

PAMPHILUS maintaining his resolution, was or|dered to be tortured severely, and then sent to pri|son, which was immediately put into execution.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 after, Urban, having displeased ••e em|peror, was displaced and beheaded: but another was appointed in his room, who was equally pre|judiced against the christians.

UNDER the new governor, Pamphilus suffered martyrdom by being beheaded; together with Ve|lens, a deacon of the church of Jerusalem; and Paul, a layman of Jamnia, in Palestine.

PORPHYRIUS, the servant of Pamphilus, was martyred by means of a straw fire, fo•• only reque••••|ing leave to bury the body of his master and the other martyrs.

THE••••ULUS, a venerable and faithful servant to Firmilian, the governor, being accused as a profes|sor of the chistian faith, confessed the charge, 〈◊〉〈◊〉

was, by order of his cruel master, crucified, on February 17, A. D. 309; and Julian, a Cappa|docian, was burnt on the same day.

MARCELLU••, bishop of Rome, being banished on account of his faith, fell a martyr to the mise|ries he suffered in exile, on the 16th of January, A. D. 310.

PETER, the 16th bishop of Alexandria, was martyred November 25, A. D. 311, by order of Maximus Caesar, who reigned in the east.

LUCIAN, a learned and eloquent Syrian, was a man of so benevolent a temper, that he disposed of the greatest part of his fortune in charitable actions. Being advanced to the clerical character in Antioch, he became a true servant of Christ, and a zealous pastor of the church. At length he was appre|hended as a christian, imprisoned for the space of nine years, put to the rack, rolled upon sharp flints, nails, &c. and then being tortured to death, his body was thrown into the sea; but it was after|wards cast on shore, and received christian burial.

AGNES, a virgin of only thirteen years of age, was beheaded for being a christian; Valentine, a priest, suffered the same fate at Rome; and Eras|mus, a bishop, was martyred in Campania.

COSMUS and Damian, Arabians, and brothers, were martyred in Cilicia; Adrian, an imperial of|ficer, was beheaded for being a christian; Barbara, a young lady, was martyred at Nicomedi••; Lucy, a christian virgin, was put to death at Syracuse; and even Serena, the empress of Dioclesian, was beheaded for being a christian.

GORDIUS, a native of Sa••sarea, and a centurian in the Roman army, was first tormented and then burnt; Menas, an Egyptian soldier, was behead|ed▪ and Barlaam, a noble martyr, as we are in|formed by Basillius, having endured the torments of the executioners, even to the very point of 〈◊〉〈◊〉; the tormentors at last brought him, and laid him upon the altar, where they used to offer sacrifices to their idols, and put frankincense into his hand, which they lighted, imagining that the heat and force of the fire would oblige him to scat|ter the burning incense on the altar, that they might thereby say that he had sacrificed. But in this they were disappointed, for the flame went round his hand, which appeared as if it had been covered with red hot embers, while he uttered this exclamation of the psalmist: "Blessed is the Lord my God, who teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers to fight." After which he surrendered his soul into the hands of Christ his Saviour.

POWER being given to the pagans to use the christians as bad as they thought proper, the doors of a church, in which a christian congregation were shut up, and the building being set on fire, every person perished in the flames. Many were severe|ly beaten with sticks, cords, rods, whips, scour|ges, &c.

AT length, Constantine the Great determined to redress the grievances of the christians, for which purpose he raised an army of 30,000 foot, and 8000 horse, with which he marched towards Rome, against Maxentius, the emperor. But previous to his entering upon this expedition, we are inform|ed, "That he considered that it was necessary to have some superior Being to confide in, besides his own strength; and as at that time there were many deities in the world, he was studious to learn which was the most worthy for him to fix upon as his pro|tector, and tutelar guardian. He reflected on the fatal miscarriages of his predecessors, who had so violently maintained a multiplicity of gods, and reposed an entire confidence in their assistance. On the other hand he considered that while his own fa|ther adored only one God, he continually prosper|ed, and had peace of mind. Hence he rejected the adoration of idols, and implored the assistance of the only true God; who heard his prayers, and answered them in a manner so suprising and mira|culous, Eusebius, who relates this history, ac|knowledges that it would not have been credible, had he not received it from the emperor's own mouth, who publicly and solemnly ratified the truth upon his oath.

THE circumstances thus asserted are these:

"THE army being advanced near Rome, and the emperor employed in his devout ejacu|lations

on the 27th day of October, about three o'clock in the afternoon, when the sun was decli|ning, there suddenly appeared to him a pillar of light in the heavens, in the form of a cros with this plain inscription on or about it, ΤΟΥΤΩ ΝΙΚΑ, In this overcome. Constantine was greatly surpri|sed at this strange sight, which was visible to the whole army, who equally wondered at it with him|self. The officers and commanders, prompted by the augurs and aruspices, or soothsayers, looked upon it as an inauspicious omen, portending an unfortunate expedition; the emperor himself did not understand it, till at length our blessed Saviour appeared to him in a vision, with the cross in his hand, which he had shewed him in the day before, commanding him to make a royal standard, like that he had seen in the heavens, and cause it to be continually carried before his army, as an ensign both of victory and safety. Early the next morn|ing, Constantine informed his friends and officers of what he had seen in the night, and sending for proper workmen, sat down by them, and described to them the form of the standard, which he then ordered them to make with the greatest art and magnificence; and accordingly they made it after this manner: a long spear, plated over with gold, with a traverse piece at the top, in the form of a cross, to which was fastened a four square purple banner, embroidered with gold, and beset with precious stones, which reflected an amazing lustre; towards the top was depicted the emperor between his two sons: on the top of the shaft, above the cross stood a crown, overlaid with gold and jewels, within which was placed the sacred symbol, namely, the two first letters of Christ in Greek, X. and P. struck one through the other: this device he afterwards bore not only upon his shields, but also upon his coins, many of which are still extant."

THEN engaging Maxentius, he defeated him, and entered the city of Rome in triumph. A law was now published in favour of the christians, in w••ich Licinius joined with Constantine, and a co|py of it was sent to Maximu•• in the east. Maxi|mus, who was a bigotted pagan, greatly disliked the edict, but being afraid of Constantine, did not openly avow his disapprobation.

M••XIMUS at length invaded the territories of Li|cinius, but being defeated, he was so mortified, that he put an end to his life by poison.

LICINUL, however, was not a real christian in his heart, but rather affected to appear as such, through the dread of Constantine's power; for even after publishing several edicts in favour of the christians, he took occasion to put to death Blase, bishop of Sebaste, several bishops and priests of Egypt and Lybia, who were cut to pieces, and thrown into the sea; and forty soldiers of the gar|rison of Sebaste, who suffered martyrdom by fire, and sealed their faith in the fl••mes. These thing; offending Constantine the Great, he marched against Licinius, who was defeated by him, and after|wards slain by his own soldiers.

WE shall conclude our account of the tenth and last general persecution with the death of

ST. George, the titular saint and patron of En|gland. St. George was born in Cappadocia, of christian parents, who brought him up according to the tenets of the gospel. His father dying when he was young, he travelled with his mother into Palestine, which was her native country. Here she claimed a patrimonial estate, which afterwards de|scended to her son. St. George being strong, ac|tive, and of a great spirit, took up the profession of a soldier, and was made a tribune or colonel. In this ••ost he exhibited great proofs of his courage, and was accordingly promoted in the army of the emperor Dioclesian. During the persecution, St. George threw up his command, went boldly to the senate house, and avowed his being a christian, ta|king occasion at the same time to remonstrate against paganism, and p••int ••u•• the absurdity of worship|ping idol••. This freedom so greatly provoked the senate, that St. George was ordered to be tortured, which he underwent with great constancy, and with|out any change in his religious principles. Exas|perated at his fortitude and resolution, he was by the emperor's orders dragged through the streets, and beheaded the next day. The calendar com|memorates him on the ••••d of April; many church|es have been dedicated to him, and he is consider|ed as the titular sain•• and patron of England. The order of the Gart••r, instituted by Edward the

Third, is dedicated to the Holy Trinity, the Bles|sed Virgin, St. George, and St. Edward the Con|fessor. This saint is represented on horseback, tilting at a dragon, which is only allegorical, and implies that he had, by his christian fortitude and faith, conquered the devil, or the dragon.

CHAP. III. Containing the PERSECUTIONS of the CHRISTIANS in Persia, under SAPORES; the PER|SECUTIONS under the ARIAN Heretics; those under JULIAN the Apostate, the GOTHS, VANDALS, &c. and in various other parts of the WORLD.

An Account of the Persecutions of the Chris|tians in Persia.

THE gospel having spread itself into Persia, the pagan priests were greatly alarmed, and dreaded the loss of that influence they had hitherto maintained over the people's minds and properties. Hence they thought it expedient to ••omplain to the emperor, that the christians were enemies to the state, and held a treasonable correspondence with the Romans, the great enemies of Persia.

THE emperor, being naturally averse to christi|anity, easily believed what was said against the christians, and gave orders to persecute them in all parts of his empire. On account of this mandate ma••y fell martyrs to the ignorance and ferosity of the Pagans, the sufferings of the most eminent of whom we shall enumerate.

SIMEON, archbishop of Seleucia, with many other ecclesiasties, to the number of an hundred and twenty-eight, were apprehended and accused of having betrayed the affairs of Persia to the Ro|mans.

THE emperor being greatly exasperated against them, order••d Simeon to be brought before him. Th•• worthy archbishop coming into his presence, boldly acknowledged his faith, and nobly defended the cause of christianity. The emperor, being of|fended at his freedom, not only reproved him for it, but ordered him to kneel before him, as he had al|ways done heretofore.

SIMEON answered, "That before, having the free admittance to his presence, he did not scruple to conform to the customary salutation of the coun|try; but being now brought before him a prisoner, for the truth of his religion, and the sake of his God, it was not lawful for him to kneel, lest he should be thought to worship and to betray his faith, which he was fully resolved to defend with his last breath."

THE emperor then told him, that if he did not kneel, he, and all the christians in his dominions, should be put to death; but Simeon rejected with disdain the proposal to kneel, and told him he would abide the consequences. On this reply the empe|ror ordered him to be sent to prison till he had con••sidered in what manner to punish him.

A short time after Simeon, with his fellow-pri|soners, was again examined, and commanded to worship the sun, agreeable to the Persian custom; but this they all unanimously refused. The empe|ror then sentenced them be beheaded, and they were executed accordingly.

U••••HAZARES, an aged eunuch, who had been tutor to the emperor, and was in great estimation at 〈◊〉〈◊〉, on observing Simeon, the fore••mentioned martyr, leading to prison, saluted him. Simeon,

however, (as Usthazares had formerly been chris|tian, and turned apostate from the faith to oblige the emperor) would not return his salute, but sharp|ly reproved him for his apostacy. This so affected the eunuch, that he burst into tears, and exclaimed, "Ah! woe is me! How shall I hereafter look up|on my God, whom I have denied, when Simeon, my old companion and familiar acquaintance, dis+dains to give me a gentle word, or to return my salute!"

THE emperor being told that his ancient tutor was greatly afflicted, sent for him, and asked him whether he desired or wanted any thing which could be corferred upon, or procured for him. To which the eunuch replied, That there was nothing that he wanted, which this earth could afford; but that his grief was of another kind, and for which he justly mourned, namely, that to oblige him he had denied his God, and had dissemblingly wor|shipped the sun, against his own conscience! for which, continued he, I am deserving of a double death, first, for denying of Christ, and secondly, for dissembling with my king; at the same time so|lemnly protesting, that he would nevermore forsake the Creator of the world, to worship the creatures which he had made.

THE emperor, being greatly offended at the ex|planation of the cause of his grief, ordered Ustha|zares to be beheaded. While he was going to the place of execution, he desired that a messenger might be sent to the emperor, to request the favour that it mi•••••• be proclaimed, "That Usthazares did not die a traitor for any crime against the king or the sta••••; but on that being a christian, he would not deny his God." This petition, we are inform|ed, was granted, and accordingly performed; which was a great satisfaction to Usthazares, whose chief re••••on for desiring it was, because his falling off from Christ, had caused 〈◊〉〈◊〉 others to follow his example, w••o now 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that he died for no crime but his r••••••gion, they might learn, like him, to return 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Christ, and become fervent and constant in the faith. Usth••••ares, being thus sa|tisfied, cheerfully yielded 〈◊〉〈◊〉 neck to the stroke of the executioner, and joyful•••• ••••ceived his crown of martyrdom.

ON the Good Friday, after the above execution, an edict was published, to put to death all who confessed themselves christians, on which occasion great multitudes suffered. About this time the em|press of Persia falling sick, the sisters of Simeon, the archbishop, were accused by some of the magi, of being the occasion. This absurdity being be|lieved, they were, by the emperor's order, sawed in quarters, and their quarters fixed upon poles, between which the empress passed as a charm to recover her.

ACEPSIMUS, and many other clergymen were seized upon, and ordered to adore the sun; which refusing, they were scourged, and then tormented to death, or suffered to remain in prison till they perished.

ATHALAS, a priest, though not put to death, was so miserably racked, that his arms were rendered useless; and he was ever after obliged to be fed like a child. In fine, by this edict, above 16,000 either suffered miserably by the torture, or were put to death.

CONSTANTINE the Great being informed of the persecutions in Persia, was exceedingly concerned, and began to ruminate in what manner he should redress their grievances, when an ambasio•• arrived from the Persian emperor upon some political con|cerns.

CONSTANTINE re••eived the ambassador civilly, granted his demands, and wrote a letter to the Per|sian monarch in favour of the christians, in which he recounts the vengeance that had fallen on perse|cutors, and ••he great success that had attended those who had refrained from persecuting the christians; and then referring to the tyra••••s ••••d persecti•••• emperor of his own time, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••aid, "•• s••bdued those solely by faith in Christ; for which God was my helper, who gave me victory in battle, and made me triumph over my enemies; and hath en|larged to me the bounds of the Romish ••mpi•••• that it extends from the Western o••••an, to almo•••• the uttermost parts of the ••ast: for which purpo•••• I neither offered sacrifices to the ancient deitie••, no•• made use of charm or divination, but only praye••

to Almighty God, and followed the cross of Christ: and how glad should I be to hear that the throne of Persia flourished, by embracing the christians! that so you with me, and they with you may enjoy all the felicity your souls could desire, as no doubt but you would, as God, the Almighty Creator of all things, would become your protector and defender.

"THESE men I commend to your kingly honor; I commit them unto you, desiring you to embrace them according to your humanity; for in so doing, you shall procure to yourself grace through faith, and shall bestow on me a benefit worthy of my thanks."

THE persecution by this means ended during the life of Sapores; but it was again renewed under the lives of his successors; the following being the principal sufferers.

HORMISDAS, a Persian nobleman, on being con|victed of professing christianity, was ordered to at|tend the emperor's elephants naked. This igno|minious task he performed for some time, when the emperor one day, looking out of a window which commanded the yard where the elephants were kept, saw Hormisdas, and perceived that he was prodigi|ously tamed. Determining to try him once more, he gave orders that a shirt should be put on him, and that he should be brought before him.

WH••N he came to the imperial throne, the em|per••r asked him if he would now deny Christ. On this question being put, Hormisdas tore off his shirt, and ••••id, "If you think I will deny my faith for the sake of a shirt, take your gift again.' The emperor, on hearing this expression, banished him from Persia; and he died an exile.

SCENE••, a christian nobleman, refusing to deny Christ, had his wife taken from him, and given to one of the meanest of the emperor's slaves; and what added to his mortification was, that he was ordered to wait upon his wife and the slave, which at l••ngth broke his heart.

THEODORET, a d••••con, was ••mprisoned for the space of two ye••r••, and being r••leas••d, w••s order|ed not to pr••ach the doctrine of christ. 〈◊〉〈◊〉, however, the order, he did his utmost to pro|pagate the gospel of Christ; for which being seized upon, he was miserably tormented, by having sharp reeds thrust under his nails; and then a knotty branch of a tree was forced up his body, and he expired in the greatest agonies.

BADEMUS, a christian of Mesopotamia, gave away his fortune to the poor, and determined to devote his life to religious retirement.

THIS inoffensive christian, together with seven others, were seized upon and cruelly tortured for being christians. The seven christians, who were apprehended with Bademus, received the crown of martyrdom, though the particular manner is not recorded, and Bademus himself, after having been four months in prison, was brought to the place of execution, and beheaded by Narses, an apostate christian, who was ordered to act as the executioner of this worthy man, in order to convince the em|peror that he was sincere in the renunciation of his faith.

An Account of the Persecutions under the Arian Heretics.

THE author of the Arian heresy was Arius, a native of Lybia, and a priest of Alexan|dria, who, in A. D. 318, began to publish his er|rors. He was condemned by a council of the Ly|bian and Egyptian bishops, and that sentence was confirmed by the council of Nice, A. D. 325. Af|ter the death of Constantine the Great, the Arians found means to ingratiate themselves into the favor of Constantius, his son and successor in the ea••t; and hence a persecution was raised against the ortho|dox bishop and clergy. The celebrated Anthana|sius, and other bishops, were banished, and their sees filled with Arians.

IN Egypt and Lybia thir••y bishops were 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and many other 〈…〉〈…〉 and, A. D. 330, 〈…〉〈…〉 Alex••••dria, under the 〈…〉〈…〉

was assi••••ed in ••is diabolical malice by Catophoni|us, governor of Egypt; Sebastian, general of the Egyptian forces; Faustinus, the treasurer; and Herac••ius, a Roman officer.

THE persecution now raged in such a manner, that the clergy were driven from Alexandria, their churches were shut, and the severities practised by the Arian heretics, were as great as those that had been practised by the Pagan idolaters. If a man accused of being a christian, made his escape, then his whole family were massacred, and his effects confiscated.

THE orthodox christians, being now deprived of all places of public worship in the city of Alexan|dria, used to perform their devotions in a desert place at some distance from it. Assembling for this purpose on a Trinity Sunday, George, the Arian bishop, engaged Sebastian, the general, to fall up|on them with his soldiers, while they were at pray|ers. On this occasion several fell a sacrifice to the popular fury of the troops, and received the crown of martyrdom for no other offence than perform|ing necessary acts of piety. The modes of cruelty were various, and the degrees different; for they were beaten over their faces till all their features were disfigured; then they were lashed with twigs or palm trees newly cut, with such violence, that they expired unde•• the blows, or by the mortifica|tion of the wou••••s.

MANY, whose live•• had been spared, were, how|ever, banished to the desarts of Oasis, where they suffered unspeakable hardships; but their exile ad|mitted of their indulgence of the most pious thoughts, and their sorrows were of a saluta••y na|ture.

SECUNDU••▪ an orthodox priest, differing in point of doctrine from a prelate of the same name; the bishop, who ••••d imbibed all the heretical opinions of Arianism•• determined to put Secundus to death, for rejecting opinions which he had thought proper to embrace. Ta••ing one Stephen with him, who was as much an A••ian as himself, they sought out Secundus privately, and being enable to make him change his opinion, they fell upon and mur••ered him: when the holy marty••, just befor•• he expired, called upon Christ to receive his soul, and to for|give his executioners.

NOT content with the cruelties exercised upon the orthodox christians in Alexandria, the principal persecutors applied to the emperor for an order to banish them from Egypt and Lybia, and to put their churches into possession of the Arians.

THEY obtained their request, and an order was sent for that purpose to Sebastian, the commander in chief of the Roman forces in those provinces.

AS soon as the general received the order, he signified the emperor's pleasure, to all the sub-go|vernors and officers, and commanded, that the man|date should be immediately put into execution. Hence a great number of the clergy were seized, and imprisoned for examination; when it appear|ing that they adopted the opinions of Athanasius, an order was signed for their banishment into the most wild, uncultivated, and desert places. Thus were the orthodox clergy used, and many of the ••••ity were condemned to the mines, or compelled to work in the quarries. Some few indeed escaped to other countries, and several were weak enough to renounce their faith, in order to avoid the seve|rities of the persecution.

PAUL, the bishop of Constantinople, was a Ma|cedo••ian by birth, and was designed, from his birth, for a clerical life.

WHEN Alexander the predecessor of Paul was on his death bed, he was consulted by some of the clergy on the choice of a successor: when, we are in|formed, he told them, "That if they were disposed chuse a person of an examplary life, unexceptiona|ble character, and thoroughly capable of instructing the people. Paul was the man; who, though young, had all the prudence and gravity of more advanced age; but if they had rather have a person of a well-composed appearance, acquainted with worldly affairs, and fit for the conversation of a court, they might then chuse Macedonius, who had all the proper qualifications." Macedonius was a deacon in the church of Constantinople, in which office he had spent many years, and gained g••eat experience: and the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 prelate did both

him and Paul justice in their different characters. Nevertheless the Arians, with their accustomed disingenuousness, gave out, that Alexander had bestowed great commendations on Macedonius for sanctity, and had only given Paul the reputation of elo••uence, and a capacity for business: it is true, indeed, he was a master in the art of speaking and persuading; but the sequel of his life and suffer|ings sufficiently evinced the absurdity of their de••m|ing him a man formed for the world. However, after some struggle, the orthodox carried their point, and Paul was consecrated.

MACEDONIUS being greatly offended at this pre|setence, did his utmost to calumniate the new bi|shop, and was very severe upon his moral charac|ter▪ but not gaining any belief, he dropped the charge, and reconc••l•••• himself to Paul. This, however, was not the case with Eusebius of Nico|media, who resumed the accusations under two heads, viz.

1. THAT he had led a disorderly life before his consecration.

2. THAT he had been placed in the se•• of Con|stantinople without the consent of the bishops of Nicomedia and Heraclea, two metropolitans, who ought to have been consulted upon that occasion.

TO support these accusations, Eusebius procured the emperor's authority, by representing, that Paul having been chosen during the absence of Constanti|us, the imperial dignity had been insulted. This ar|tifice succeeded, and Paul being deposed, Eusebius was placed in his room.

PAUL having thus lost all his authority in the east, retired to the territories of Constans, in the west, where he was well received by the orthodox prelates and clergy. At Rome he visited Athana|sius, and assisted at a council held there, by Julius, the bishop of that see. Letters being written by this council to the eastern prelates, Paul returned to Constantinople, but was no•• restored to his bi|shopric till the death of Eusebius. The Arians, how ever, constituting Macedonius their bishop, by the ti|tle of bishop of Constantinople, a sedition, and a kind of civil war ensued, in which many lost their lives.

THE emperor Constantius, who was then at An|tioch, hearing of these matters, laid the whole blame upon Paul, and ordered that he should be driven from Constantinople. Hermogenes, the of|ficer who had received the emperor's order, at|tempted in vain to put it into execution; for the orthodox christians rising in defence of Paul, Her|mogenes was killed in a scuffle that ensued.

THIS transaction greatly exasperated the empe|ror, who lest Antioch, though in the depth of winter, and immediately returned to Constantino|ple, with a design to punish the christians severely. But their submission and intreaties softened him, and he contented himself with banishing Paul and suspending Macedonius.

PAUL retired again to the territories of Constans, implored the protection of that emperor, and, by his intercession, was again vested in his see. On this occasion, we are informed, that "his re-estab|lishment did but exasperate his enemies, who were at that time constantly employed, both in secret and open attempts against his life, against which the affections of his people were his only security; and being convinced that the emperor had no other mo|tive for allowing his stay at Constantinople, but the dread of disobliging his brother, Paul could not think himself wholly restored to his bishopric, while things were in this situation; and being very much concerned at what the orthodox bishops suffer|ed from the power and malice of the Arian fac|tion, joined Athanasius, who was then in Italy, in soliciting a general council."

A council was accordingly held at Sardica, in Illyrium, in the year 347, at which were present one hundred bishops of the western, and seventy-three of the eastern empire. But disagreeing in many points, the Arian bishops of the east retired to Philippolis, in Thrace; and forming a meeting there, they termed ir the council of Sardica. From which place they pretended to issue out an excom|munication against Julius, bishop of Rome; Paul, bishop o•• Constantinople; Athanasius, bishop of Alexand••••••; and several other prelates.

IN A. D. ••50, the emperor Cons••ans died, which gave the A••••••ns fresh courage, and they immedi|ately

applied to the emperor, Constantius, who be|ing an Arian in his heart, wrote an order to praefect Philip, to remove Paul from the bishoprie of Con|stantinople, and banish him again, to restore Ma|cedonius.

BEING exiled to Cucucus, he was confined in a small, loathsome, dark dungeon, where he was kept six days without food and then strangled. He met death with fortitude, as he was always perfect|ly resigned in misfortunes, and convinced of the vanity of this transitory life.

THE Arian party now prevailing, made Grego|ry of Cappadocia, a very obscure person, bishop of Alexandria, after having deposed Athanasius for his strict adherence to the orthodox faith. In the accomplishment of this affair, they were assist|ed by Philagerius, the governor of Egypt, who was an apostate, and who suffered them to commit all manner of outrages. Hence arming themselves with swords, clubs, &c. they broke into one of the principal churches of Alexandria, where great numbers of orthodox christians were assembled at their devotions: and falling upon them in a most barbarous manner, without the least respect to sex or age, the principal part of them were murdered.

POTAMO, the venerable bishop of Heraclea, who had formerly lost one of his eyes in Diocleasian's persecution, fell a martyr upon this occasion; be|ing so cruelly scourged and beaten that ••e expired of his wounds.

THE Arian mob then broke into many places, public and private, under a pretence of searching for Athanasius, and committed innumerable butch|eries and barbarities; robbing orphans, plundering the houses of widows, dragging devoted virgins to private places to be the sacrifices of lust; im|prisoning the clergy, and burning churches and dwelling houses belonging to orthodox christians, &c. &c.

An Account of the Persecution under JULI|AN the Apostate.

JULIAN, commonly called the Apostate, was the son of Julius Constantius, and the nephew of Constantine the Great. He studied the rudi|ments of grammar under the inspection of Ma••do|nius an eunuch, and an heathen of Constantinople. His father sent him some time after to Nic••media, to be instructed in the christian religion, by the bi••shop Eusebius, his kinsman; but hi•• principles were corrupted by the pernicious doctrines of Ece|bolius the rhetorician, and Maximus the magician.

CONSTANTIUS dying in the year 361, Julian suc|ceeded him, and had no sooner attained the impe|rial dignity, than he renounced christianity, and embraced paganism, which had for some years fallen into great disrepute. But he again restored idola|trous worship, by opening the several temples that had been shut up, rebuilding such as were destroy|ed, and ordering the magistrates and people to fol|low his example. He, however, made no public edicts against christianity, but tried to do that pri|vately which other emperors had done openly. He recalled all banished pagans, allowed the free ex|ercise of religion to every sect, but deprived all christians of offices at court, in the magistracy, or in the army. He was chaste, temperate, vigilant, laborious, and seemingly pious, so that by his hy|pocrisy and pretended virtues, he, for a time, did more mischief to christianity, than the most profligate libertine of his predecessors. Thus he attempted to undermine christianity by artifice in|stead of expelling it by force; and to make his measures the more effectual, he prohibited any christian from keeping a school or p••blic seminary of learning, and deprived all the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 clergy of the privileges granted them by Constantine the Great.

HENCE was this persecution more dangerous than any of the former, as Julian aimed to sap the foundations of christianity, instead of attacking the superstructure, and under the mask of clemency, practised the greatest cruelty in wishing to d••lude many thousands of their eternal salvation.

THE christian faith was thus in more danger of being subverted than it ever had been before, by the means of a monarch, at once witty a••d wicked, learned and hypocritical; who, at first, made his attempts, not by the means of fire, sword, and poison, but by flattering gifts, and favours; not by using racks and tortures, but by bestowing

offices and dignitie••▪ and then, by prohibiting christian schools, ••e compelled the children of the gospel either to remain illiterate, or become idola|tors.

OTHER methods taken by Julian were, to order that christians might be treated coldly apon all oc|c••sions, and in all parts of the empire, and to em|ploy several 〈◊〉〈◊〉 persons to turn them, and their principles, i••••o ridicule. Many were likewise marty••ed in his reign; for though he did not pub|li•••• persecute them himself, he connived at their bei••g murdered by his governors and officers; and t••ough he affected never to patronize them for th••••ir murders, he never offered to punish them for their delinquency. We shall recount the names, s••fferings, and martyrdoms of such as have been transmitted to the present times, that their exam|ple may inspire fortitude, and their lives give an ••••eful lesson to mankind in general.

BA••IL made himself first famous by his opposi|tion to Arianism, which brought upon him the vengeance of the Arian Bishop of Constantinople, who issued out an order to prevent his preaching. He continued, however, to perform his duty at An••yra, the capital of Galatia. Enraged at his orthodox and manly proceeding, his enemies accu|sed him of being an incendiary, and a disturber of the public peace; the monarch, however, was too intent on an expedition to Persia, to take notice of the accusation, and their malice at that time was disappointed.

BA••IL continued to preach strenuously against the idolatry of paganism on the one hand, and the er|rors of Arianism on the other: and earnestly ex|horted the people to serve Chirst, in the purity of faith, and fervency of truth. By this conduct, both heathens and Arians were exasperated against him, and appeared equally desirous of accomplish|ing his destruction.

MEETING one day with a number of pagans go|ing in procession to a sacrifice, he boldly expressed his abh••rrence of such idolatrous proceedings, and inveighed against such absurd worship, at once in a manly and decent manner. This freedom caused the people to seize him, and carry him before Sa|turninus, the governor, where they brought three accusations against him, viz. Reviling the gods, abusing the emperor, and disturbing the peace of the city.

ON hearing these accusations, which were equal|ly malicious as groundless, Saturninus desired to know his sentiments from his own mouth; when finding him a strenuous christian, he ordered him first to be put to the rack, and then he committed him to prison.

THE governor wrote an account of his proceed|ings to the emperor, who was at this time very bu|sy in establishing the worship of Cybele, the ficti|tious mother of the fabulous deities. Julian, up|on receiving the letter, sent Pagosus and Elpidius, two apostates, to Ancyra, the city where Basil was confined, to employ both promises and threats to engage him to renounce his faith, and in case of their failure, to give him up totally to the power of the governor; for it was the policy of Julian to appear all moderation and clemency, and to suf|fer others, as much as possible, to seem the osten|sible persons in acts of cruelty. In this affair, how|ever, a future circumstance made the emperor fore|go his usual policy, and sacrifice his affected mercy to his resentment.

THE emperor's agents in vain tampered with Ba|sil by means of promises, threats, and racks; he was firm in the faith, and remained in prison to undergo some other sufferings when the emperor came accidentally to Ancyra.

THE people no sooner knew of Julian's ap|proach, than they met him in grand procession, and presented to him their idol, the goddess Hecate. The two agents then gave the emperor an ac••count of what Basil had suffered, and how firm he had been. Julian•• on this, determined to examine Basil himself, when that holy man being brought before him, the emperor did every thing in his power to dissuade him from persevering in the faith. Basil not only continued as firm as ever▪ but, with a prophetic spirit▪ foretold the death of the emperor, and that he should be tormented in the other life

ENRAGED at what he heard, Julian lost his usual affectation of clemency, and told Basil, in great anger, that though he had an inclination to pardon him at first, yet he had now put it out of his power to save his life, by the insolence of his behaviour. He then commanded, that the body of basil should be torn every day in seven different parts, till his skin and flesh were entirely mangled. This inhu|man sentence was executed with rigour, and the martyr expired under its severities, on the 28th day of June, A. D. 362.

DONATUS, bishop of Arezzo, and Hilarinus, a hermit, suffered about the same time for the faith; the first being beheaded, and the latter scourged to death.

GORDIAN, a Roman magistrate, having a chris|tian before him for examination, was so charmed with the confession of his faith, that he not only discharged the prisoner, but became himself a chris|tian. This so enraged the Roman praefect, that he ordered him to be scourged and beheaded; which sentence was executed, A. D. 362.

JOHN and Paul, two brothers, of a good fami|ly, and in high offices under the emperor, on being accused of professing christianity, were deprived of their posts, and allowed ten days to consider, whe|ther they would renounce their faith and be promo|ted, or retain their faith and be martyred? Making choice of the latter alternative, they were both be|headed, A. D. 362.

ARTEMIUS, comman••er in chief of the Roman forces in Egypt, being a christia••, had these two charges exhibited against him by the pagans.

1. THAT he had formerly demolished several idols in the reign of Constantine the Great.

2. THAT he had assisted the bishop of Alexan|dria in plundering the temples.

ON the exhibition of these charges, Julian, who was then at Antioch, ordered the general to repair thither, in order to answer to them. On Artemi|us's arrival, he owned the charges, and his faith: when he was first deprived of his commission, then of his estate, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of his head.

CASSIAN, a schoolmaster of ••mol••, in the p••o|vince of Romagn, refusing to sacrifice to the idols▪ was hurried before the judge; who being apprized of his profession, and informed that many of the boys had an aversion to him on account of the strictness with which he kept them to their studies, determined that they should have permission to murder their master. He was accordingly deliver|ed, with his hands tied behind him, to the boys, who fell upon him with rods, whips, sticks, and stiles, o•• the steel pencils which were then used in writing, and murdered him. This singular mar|tyrdom happened on the 13th of August, A. D. 362.

BONOSUS and Maximilian, two officers of the Herculean guards, upon Julian's taking away Con|stantine the Great's standard of the cross of Christ, threw up their commissions. Being apprehended on account of their faith, they were carried before the governor of the east, who commanded them to sacrifice to the gods, and obey the emperor's orders; but they replied, that as they were no longer his soldiers, but the soldiers of Christ, they would do neither. The governor then had them separate|ly examined, and finding them as inflexible when asunder, as when together, he ordered Bonosus to be beaten with whips that had leaden bullets at the ends of the thongs, and Maximilian to be scourged.

BEING remanded back to p••ison, they were al|lowed nothing but bread and water for subsistence, and the bread was marked with the seal of the em••peror, the impression of which was an idol; o•• which account they refused to eat it. They wer•• soon afterwards again examined, and then, accord••ing to the sentence pronounced upon them, be••headed.

BIBIANA was the daughter of Havian and Da••frosa, two christians. Flavian, her father, held a considerable post under the government, but being banished for his faith, died in exile. Dafrosa, her mother, was, for the same reason, ordered to be starved; but Apronianus, governor of Rome▪ thinking her two long in dying, had her beheaded.

BIBIANA, and her sister Demetri••, ••••ter the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of their parents, were str••pped of all their 〈◊〉〈◊〉,

[figure]

MARCUS, BISHOP of ARETHU•• ••ubbed with Honey hung up in a Basket▪ and Stung to Death by Wasps.

and being brought before the governor, were or|dered to renounce their religion. Demetria sud|denly dropped down dead in the governor's presence, and Bibiana resolutely refused to renounce her faith, on which account she was scourged to death, Decem|ber 2, A. D. 362.

THE persecution raged dreadfully about the lat|ter end of the year 363; but as many of the par|ticulars have not been handed down to us, it is ne|cessary to remark in general, that in Palestine many were burnt alive, others were dragged by their feet through the streets naked till they expired; some were scalded to death, many stoned, and great num|bers had their brains beaten out with clubs. In Alexandria innumerable were the martyrs who suf|fered by the sword, burning, crucifixion, and be|ing stoned. In Arethusa, several were ripped open, and corn being put in their bellies, swine were brought to feed therein, who, in devouring the grain, likewise devoured the entrails of the martyrs; and, in Thrace, Emilianus was burnt at a stake; and Domitius murdered in a cave, whither he had fled for refuge.

THEODORUS, for his faith, and singing the prai|ses of God, was apprehended and put to the tor|tures of a martyr, though not to death. After being taken from the rack, he was asked how he could so patiently endure such exquisite tortures? To which he returned this remarkable r••ply: "At the first I felt some pain, but afterwards there ap|peared to stand by me a young man, who wiped the sweat from my face, and frequently refreshed me with cold water, which so delighted me, that I regretted being let down from the rack."

MARCUS, bishop of Arethusa, having destroyed a pagan temple in that city, erected a christian church in its room, on which account he was accu|sed to Julian, the emperor, as a christian. Being apprehended, his persecutors had no respect to his venerable person, but stripping him naked, most cruelly beat him. He was then thrust into a filthy jake, or sink, till he was almost suffocated; after|wards he was goaded with sharp pointed sticks; and lastly, he was hung up in a basket in the heat of the sun, after having been smeared all over with honey, in order to be tormented to death by wasps. As soon 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he was hung up, they asked him if he would reb••ild their temple? To which he answer|ed, that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 would neither rebuild it nor advance a single doit towards its being rebuilt; upon which they left him, and he fell a martyr to the dreadful stings of those troublesome insects.

MAXENTIUS and Juventius, two christian officers, were put to death for reproving the emperor, on account of his idolatries; but the manner ••f their deaths is not known.

WE shall now enter upon some detached par|ticulars necessary to be preserved, and finish this account with the conclusion of the persecutions un|der Julian the apostate.

JULIAN intending an expedition against the Persians, set a large fine upon every one who refused to sacrifice to the idols, and by that means got a great sum towards defraying his expences from the christians.

IN collecting these fines, many of the officers ex|acted more than their due, and some of them tor|tured the christians to make them pay what they demanded, at the same time telling them in de|••ision, "that wh•••• they were injured, they ought to take it patiently, for so their God had command|ed them."

THE inhabitants of Caesarea were fined three hundred weight of gold, and several of the clergy obliged to serve in the wars, as a punishment for having overthrown the temples of Jupiter, Apollo, and Fortune.

AT Meris, in Phrygia, the governor having cleansed and opened a pagan temple, the christians in the night broke in, and demolished the idols. Next day the governor ordered all christians that accidentally came in the way to be seized, that he might make examples of them, and by this means was going to execute several innocent persons, But those who really perpetrated the fact, being too noble and just in their sentiments to suffer such an injustice, voluntarily delivered themselves 〈◊〉〈◊〉; when they were first of all scourged severely, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 then broiled to death upon gridirons.

THE emperor, Julian the apostate, died of a wound which he received in his Persian expedi|tion, A. D. 363, and even while expiring, uttered the most horrid blasphemies. He was succeeded by Jovian, who restored peace to the church.

AFTER the decease of Jovian, Valentinian suc|ceeded to the empire, and associated to himself Valens, who had the command in the east.

VALENS was a great favourer of Arianism, and so incensed against the christians, that he ordered, on a certain day, all of them in Edessa to be slain, while they were at their devotions in their churches. The officers, however, being more compassionate than the emperor, privately gave notice to the christians not to assemble on the day appointed, so that they might escape death, and themselves be excused for non-performance of duty.

THE christians thanked the officers for their ad|vice, but disregarded both that, and the emperor's menaces, sooner than they would neglect their duty. They accordingly repaired to church, and the troops being compelled, by the positiveness of the com|mand, were put in motion to destroy them. As they marched along, a woman, with a child in her arms, broke through the ranks, when the officer ordered her to be brought before him, and asked her whither she was going? She replied, to church, wh••ther others were making all the haste they could. "Have you not heard (says the officer) of the em|peror's order, to put to death all who are found there?" I have, said she, and for that cause I make the more haste. And whither, said the offi|cer, do you lead that child? I take him, replied she, with me, that he also may be reckoned in the number of the martyrs." Upon this the hu|mane officer returned to the emperor, and told him, that all the christians were prepared to die in defence of their faith, and represented to him how rash it would be to murder so great a multi|tude, and intreated the emperor to drop the de|sign, at least for the present, which he at length ••omplied with.

M••NEDEMUS, Urbanus, and Theodorus, with several other orthodox clergymen, to the number 〈◊〉〈◊〉 fourscor••••, at Constantinople, petitioned the em|peror, in a most humble manner, to relieve them from the oppressions, persecutions, and cruelties of the Arians. But the tyrant, instead of redres|sing their grievances, ordered them all to be ••••|barked in a ship, and the ship set fire to; when this infernal and inhuman order being executed▪ they all perished in the flames.

An Account of the Persecutions of the Chr••••|tians by the GOTHS. &c.

MANY Scythian Goths having embr••••ed christianity about the time of Constantine the Great, the light of the gospel spread i••self c••••••siderably in Scythia, though the two king•• who ruled that country, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the majority of the peop••••, continued pagans. Fritegern, king of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Goths, was an ally to the Romans; but 〈◊〉〈◊〉, king of the East Goths, was at war 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••••em. The christians, in the dominions of the former, lived unmolested; but the latter, having been defeated by the Romans, wreaked his ven|geance on his christian subjects.

SAPAS, a worthy christian, upon this occasion, was one ••ho felt the enraged king's misplaced re••sentment. Sabas was humble and humane, mild and modest, yet fervent in worship, and zealous fo•• the advancement of the church. Remarkable for his contempt of riches, and singular in shunning ever sensual enjoyment; the sanctity of his life, and the purity of his manners were such, as gave the greatest force to his doctrines. He convinced the rational, and confounded the obdurate: hence he became, at once, famous for his piety and doctrines.

ATHANARICK, in the year 370, gave orders, that all persons in his dominions should sacrifice to the pagan deities, and eat the meat which had been offered to the idols, or be put to death for dis|obedience. Some humane pagans, who had chris|tian relations, endeavoured to save them by offer|ing them meat which had not received the ido|la••rous consecration, while the magistrates were to be imposed on, and made to believe that all had been done according to their direction. But

[figure]

FOURSCORE CHRISTIAN MINISTERS BURN•• together in a Ship•• by order of VALENS Emperor of Rome. B. Tanner St.

Sabas too well knew St. Paul's principles, to ima|gine that the sin lay in eating: he knew that scandalizing the weak, and giving the enemies of the faith an advantage over them, was all that made that action criminal in christians, neither of which consequences would have been avoided by this, disguise. He not only refused to comply with what was proposed to him, but publicly de|clared, that those who sheltered themselves under that artifice, were not to be called christians.

SABAS being soon after apprehended on account of his faith, was carried before a magistrate, who inquired into his fortune and circumstances. Find|ing that what he had upon his back was the principal part of what he possessed, he was dis|missed as a person of little or no consequence.

SABAS went to spend the ensuing Easter with Sansala, a christian priest of great piety: they lived in great tranquillity for three days, but on the third night they were both seized by a party of soldiers. The priest was allowed to dress him|self, and to ride, but Sabas was obliged to leave his clothes behind him, and to walk; and, du|ring the journey, they drove him through thorns and briars, beating him with great violence almost continually. This cruelty he bore without a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 murmur, and in the ev••ning they extended him between two beams, faste••ing his legs to the one and his arms to the other; and in that posture left him for the night, while they retired to repose. The woman of the house, however, hearing how ill he had been used, went and released him; but though he was now at liberty, and his persecutors asleep, he did not avail himself of the opportunity to make his escape.

THE next morning the persecutors began to practise on th••se two worthy christians, and tam|pered with them to renounce their religion, and eat the meat consecrated to the idols. This, how|ever, they joi••tly refused, and positively declared, that they were ready to meet the most cruel death, rather than comply with such detestable idolatry. Sansala was at length discharged, and Sabas or|dered to be drowned; which sentence was put into execution, April 12, A. D. 372.

NICETAS was of a Gothic extraction, born near the banks of the Danube, and though he had been long a christian he never met with any molesta|tion on that account, till the above-mentioned per|secution began by Athanarick. That monarch ordered an idol to be drawn about on a chariot, through all the places where the christians lived: the chariot stopped at the door of every one who professed the gospel, and the christian inhabitants were ordered to pay it adoration. Upon a refusal, the house was immediately set on fire, and all within were burnt. This was the case with Nicetas, who on account of his religion, refusing to pay the re|spect demanded to the idol, had his house burnt, and himself consumed in it, September 15, A. D. 372.

EUSEBIUS, bishop of Samosata, makes a most dis|tinguished figure in ecclesiastical history, and was one of the most eminent champions of Christ against the Arian heresy. The Arians having advanced Miletas to the see of Antioch▪ thinking him of their party, the instrument of his advancement was pla|ced in the care of Eusebius. When Miletus preached his first sermon, the Arians, to their great surprize, found they had been greatly mis|taken in him, for his doctrines were pure and orthodox.

ENRAGED at their disappointment, they persuaded the emperor to displace him, and likewise to get the instrument out of the hands of Eusebius. Mile|••us was accordingly deposed, and the emperor sent to Eusebius to deliver the instrument. Eusebius's answer was that he could not give up a trust reposed in him by so great a number, without the express consent of all concerned in it. The emperor in|censed at this reply, wrote to him on that subject, and assured him he had commissioned the bearer of his letter to cut off his right hand, if he refused to surrender the instrument in question; which threat was artfully added only to awe him into a compli|ance. Eusebius, however, knew the party was capable of any cruelty to promote their cause; but, without the least emotion, offered his hands, and declared he would lose them both rather than part with so flagrant a proof of Arian injustice. The emperor could not but be surprized at his resolution,

and professed a high esteem for him ever after: so true it is that virtue can sometimes force even its de|clared enemies to love and praise it.

THE Arians from this time looked upon Eusebius as a most dangerous enemy. At the time Jovian 〈◊〉〈◊〉 peace to the church, Miletus convened a council at Antioch, which consisted of Eusebius, and twenty-five other prelates, who unanimously confirmed the doctrines of the council of Nice.

WHEN the see of Caesarea became vacant, Euse|bius was greatly instrumental in promoting Basil to it, on which occasion Gregory the younger calls him, "The pillar of truth, the light of the world, the fortress of the church, the rule of faith, the support of the faithful, and an instrument in the hands of God for bestowing favours on his peo|ple." When the Arians were the most vigilant to propagate their heresy, Eusebius was exceedingly assiduous in taking measures to prevent their suc|cess; and his zeal was always so governed by the rules of prudence, that his attempts seldom failed of success. It was not enough for our excellent prelate to screen his own flock from the insults of the common enemy, and maintain the faith in its purity agai••st all the endeavours of such as would corrupt the people; but knowing that several churches were, by the iniquity of the times, de|prived of their pastors, he disguised himself; and thus made the tour of Syria, Phoenicia, and Pa|lestine; fortified the pure against the solicitations of the heretics, ordained several priests and inferior ministers, wherever they were wanting; and, when he found any orthodox prelates in his travels, as|sisted them in consecrating bishops for the use of the widowed churches. It was impossible to conceal the hand that every day gave some fresh stroke to the Arian party, and sunk their interest wherever it was employed; so that the emperor, at their in|stigation, granted an order for banishing him into Thrace. He was at Samosata when the messenger came with this commission; it was late in the even|ing; and Eusebius, who was very well beloved by his people, begged he would make no noise, but conceal his business; "for, says he, if it takes air, the people will fall on you, throw you into the ••iver, and then I shall be charged with your death." Eusebius was calm enough to go through his usual devotions, and when the night was far advanced he left his house on foot, attended only by one trusty servant, who carried a pillow and one book after him. Thus accommodated he took a boat, and went to Zeugina, about seventy miles down the river.

THE people, however, next day, missing Euse|bius, and hearing which way he was gone, follow|ed in a great number of boats, and ove••taking would have rescued him, at the same time intreat|ing him with tears in their eyes not to abandon them.

EUSEBIUS was greatly touched with their affec|tion, but said he must go according to the emperor's order, putting them in mind of the authority of St. Paul, for paying a due reverence and proper sub|mission to the civil power. Finding they could not prevail, they accommodated him with every thing that could comfort him in his journey, and then left him to pursue his way to the place of his des|tination.

AT this time Thrace was a scene of confusion, by means of the war carried on between the Goths, and the emperor's forces▪ and in these contests, the life of Eusebius was frequently in danger. The emp••ror, in order to terminate the war with the greater expedition, resolved to march against the Goths in person; but first to engage the prayers of the christians, he gave peace to the church of Christ▪ and allowed the orthodox prelates to return to their churches. Th••s was Eusebius restored to his 〈◊〉〈◊〉, which however he did not long enjoy, for an Arian woman threw a tile at him from the top of a house▪ which fractured his skull, and terminated his life in the year 380.

MARCE••LUS, bishop of Apamea, a prelate of great merit, was very active in attempting to sup|press idolatry in his diocese, on which account his life was in continual danger, till Cynegius, the pr••|fect, arrived with a considerable body of troops, which kept the pagans in awe. This officer's de|sign was totally to abolish idolatry, to effect which he determined to destroy the temple of Jupiter; he however found this a more difficult attempt than he had imagined, for the building was so strong, the

stones so unweildy, the cement so durable, and the iron cramps so massy, that he despaired of being able to accomplish the work; when a poor labouring christian, recommended by Marcellus, undertook to go through with what the praefect had given up, and the business was executed in the following manner:

THIS person examined the situat••on of the edi|fice, and finding it surrounded by a gallery, sup|ported by stately pillars, ten yards in circumference, he judged it would be more to his purpose to weaken the foundation than pretend to attack the body of the building directly: with this view he dug at the bottom of the said pillars, and shored them with timber beams. When he had thus un|dermined three of the most considerable pillars, he set fire to the wood, which burning in sunder, the pillars fell, and drew twelve more with them, and brought down one whole side of the building; upon which the people flocked together f••om all parts of the town, and praised God, who ha•• thus triumph|ed over his enemies.

THE bishop and praefect continued destroying a great number of idol temples, when being at a town called Aulo upon this business, while the troops were busy in demolishing the buildings, some pagans privately seized upon the bishop, and burnt him, A. D. 393.

A•• Account of the Persecutions of the Chris|tians under the Arian Vandals.

THE Vandals passing from Spain to Africa in the fifth century, under their leader Genseric, committed the most unheard of cruelties. They persecuted the christians wherever they came, and even laid waste the country as they passed, that the christians left behind, who had escaped them, might not be able to subsist.

THEY plundered the churches, and murdered the bishops and ministers by a variety of tortures. In particular, they poured stinking oil and vinegar down the throats of some tiil they expired; suf|focated others by fil••ing their mouths with mud, and martyred many by stretching their limbs with cords till the veins burst, and sinews cracked. They also wreaked their vengeance on several of the cler|gy and nobility, whom they loaded with heavy burdens; and obliged them to carry their bag|gage; and if they did not travel fast enough, they pricked them on with sharp goads, insomuch that several died under their burdens. Reverend grey hairs found no instances of mercy, and guilt|less infants felt the rage of their barbarity Stately buildings were burned or levelled with the earth: and the chief churches in Carthage employed in their own heretical worship, or put to profane uses; and where any castles held out against them, they brought great numbers of christians, and slew them, leaving their dead bodies lying under the walls, that the stench thereof might force the besieged to surrender.

HAVING seized and plundered the city of Carth|age, they put the bishop, and all the clergy, into a leaky ship, and committed it to the mercy of the waves, thinking that they must all perish of course; but providentally the vessel arrived safe at Naples.

INNUMERABLE orthodox christians were beaten, scourged, and banished to Capsur, where it plea|sed God to make them the means of converting many of the Moors to christianity▪ but this com|ing to the ears of Genseric, he sent orders, that they and their new converts should be tied by the feet to chariots, and dragged about till they were dashed to pieces.

PAMPINIAN, the bishop of Mansuetes, was tor|tured to death with plates of hot iron; the bishop of Urice was burnt; the bishop of Habensa was banished for refusing to deliver up the sacred books which wer•• in his possession; and a whole congre|gation, who were assembled in a church at their devotions, together with the clergyman who was preaching to them, were murdered by these barba|rians breaking in upon them, and exercising the most indiscriminate cruelties.

THE Vandalian tyrant Genseric, having made an expedition into Italy, and plundered the city of Rome, returned to Africa, flushed with the success of his arms. The Arians took this occasion to per|suade

him to persecute the orthodox christians, as they assured him that they were friends to the peo|ple of Rome.

ARMOGASTUS was one who felt the rage of this persecution; Victor, the learned bishop of Vita, who was personally acquainted with Armogastus, and who likewise wrote the history of this persecu|tion, informs us, that "his legs were tied, and his forehead bound with cords several times; which, though applied with no gentle hand, made not the least impression on his flesh, nor left any mark on his skin. After this, he was hung up by one foot; but in that posture seemed as much at his ease as if reposed on a soft bed. Theodoric, one of the king's sons, finding all attempts on his life had hitherto proved unsuccessful, ordered his head to be struck off. But Jocundas, an Arian priest, dissuaded him from that resolution, by telling him it would be much better to destroy him by slow and impercep|tible means, and wear him out by degrees; where|as a violent death would procure him the reputa|tion of a martyr among those of his own opinion, which could be of no service to the opposite cause. The prince sent him to the mines, and some time after removed him to a place near Carthage, where he was employed in looking after cattle. While Armogastus was thus engaged, he grew exceeding ill, and imagining that the end of his labours was near, he communicated his thoughts to Felix, a virtuous christian, employed in that prince's service. From him he received some consolation; but his disorder increasing daily soon deprived him of life, and he was buried by Felix according to his own direction."

ARCHINIMUS was a devout christian, upon whom all manner of artifices were employed in vain, to make him renounce his fait••. At length Genseric himself undertook to persuade him, but finding his endeavours ineffectual, he passed sentence upon him to be beheaded. He, however, privately ordered the executioner really to perform his office, if the prisoner seemed intimidated and afraid; "for then (said he) the crown of martyrdom will b•• lo••t to him; but if he seems courageous, and willing to die (continued the king), strike not the stroke, for I do not intend that he shall have the honour of be|ing deemed a martyr." The executioner•• when they came to the place appointed 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Archini|mus resolved, and happy in the thought of dying for the sake of Christ, brought him back again 〈…〉〈…〉 He was soon after this banished, and never heard of more, though it is conjectured that he was mur|dered privately by the king's order, as he thought the glory of dying publicly for the faith too great a favour.

EUGENIUS, bishop of Carthage, was eminent for his learning and piety, which brought upon him the hatred of the Arians in general, who took great pains to set the king Huneric against him, and the orthodox christians.

THEY succeeded but too well, for he banished above 5,000 into a dreadful desart, where many perished through hunger, or the inclemency of the weather. But being bent on persecuting the whole body of the orthodox christians, he sent an edict to Eugenius, which he commanded that he should read in the Cathedral on Ascension day, A. D. 483.

AS this edict ordered that all the orthodox bi|shops should me••t at Carthage on the first of the ensuing February, for the purpose of disputing with the Arian prelates, the king's stratagem evi|dently appeared to Eugenius, and several other bi|shops, particularly to Victor, bishop of Vita, the leared author of the original account of th••s per|secution, for they well knew that he artfully 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to establish Arianism under the appearance of can|dour and justice.

AFTER a considerable deliberation, they deter|mined to send a petition to the king; which was written by Eugenius accordingly, and prese••ted by a person who had great interest at court. The sub|stance of this petition was, that the African prelates did not decline the proposed conference out of a sense of the weakness of their cause, or a distru•••• of their own abilities to maintain the orthodox faith; but as the whole church was concerned in the dis|pute, they were of opinion that they could not e••|gage in it without the bishops of Europe and Asia. To this Huneric replied, that what they desired was impossible, unless the whole world was in hi•• hands. Upon which Eugenius desired his majesty would be pleased to write to Odoacer, king of Italy, and other princes in his interest; and allow him to send

to the bishops, that the common faith might be thus authentically declared.

THE king, however, disregarding this remon|strance, insisted upon being obeyed; and then, previous to the time appointed, very artfully took an occasion to banish several of the most able and learned orthodox prelates, on various pretences; that the cause of truth might be weakened, and the Arians have the greater advantage.

WHEN the appointed time for the conference ar|rived, the orthodox clergy appointed ten of their number to act in the name of the rest. Cyrilla, an Arian, took the stile of patriarch upon the oc|casion, and was seated on a magnificent throne. The Arian prelates were allowed to sit near him, but the orthodox bishops were obliged to stand. They complained of this partial mode of beha|viour, as an evident infringement of their liberty; on which the Arians took occasion to abuse them in a most illiberal manner. Eugenius, per|ceiving that thev did not intend to come to any can|did decision, proposed to adjourn to some future day; but instead of complying with this, each or|thodox prelate, by the king's order, as Cyrilla as|serted, received an hundred blows with a stick. Eugenius protested against such violence, but in vain; the prelates were turned out of the place unheard, their churches were shut up, and the re|venues of their bishoprics seized upon.

SOON after they were compelled to quit Car|thage, when they lay without the walls of that city, exposed to all the inclemencies of the open air. The king pasing out of one of the gates, the or|thodox clergy presented themselves before him, and modestly complained of the treatment they had received.

H••N••RIC, instead of redressing their grievances, ordered his guards to fall on them, and chastise them for their insolence, as he termed it. The sol|die••s complied with the tyrant's request, and treat|ed them as unmercifully as he could wish. The king ordered them to appear on a certain day at a place which he named.

AT the appointed time they assembled on the spot accordingly, when one of the king's officers shewed them a folded paper, and informed them that the king was inclined to forget what was past, and to restore them to their livings, provided they would swear to the truth of what that paper con|tained. The prelates, surprised at this unreasona|ble proposal, declared that they could not in con|science think of swearing to the truth of that to which they were total strangers. But if they were suffered to read the writing, and approve of the contents, they would readily take the oath.

THE officer replied, that was unnecessary; for he would tell them the contents, which were not of a religious but of a political nature, and only re|quired them to swear they were willing prince Hil|deric should succeed his father in the throne. Se|veral of the prelates innocently thinking that there could be no harm in swearing they were willing a son should succeed his father, as that was but a piece of natural justice, offered to comply. But the rest, with greater precaution, and well knowing the Arian wiles, refused to take the oath, as they justly judged so simple a proposal would never have been made them, unless some deep artifice was con|cealed beneath it.

WHILE they were disagreeing upon this head, the officer took an advantage of their discord, and committed them to separate prisons, those who were willing to swear to one, and those who were unwilling to another. They had not been long in confinement before the mystery was unravelled, and the whole artifice explained by an order from the king for the banishment of both parties. Those who had been willing to swear were banished, un|der the pretence of offering to break an established precept of the Scripture, viz. "Swear not at all," Matt. v. 34. And those who had refused to swear, were banished as enemies to the legal succession. Thus did the crafty Arians accomplish the ••uin of the prelates, by wresting a text of the gos|pe•• to a wrong sense, and putting a piece of politi|cal sophistry to an improper use. The former were obliged to work as slaves in distant colonies, and the latter were sent to the island of Corsica to cut timber. Tripoli was the place to which Euge••nius was banished; where Anthony, a violent A••••••an bishop, threw him into a loathsome dungeon▪

and made him suffer every hardship that cruelty could devise, in order to destroy him by a lingering death. The dampness of the place gave Eu|genius the palsy, which Anthony hearing of, went to the gaol, and finding him in a very weak condi|tion laying on the floor, he poured some strong vinegar down his throat, with a design to have choaked him. It had, however, a contrary effect; for instead of suffocating, it promoted an immedi|ate and copious perspiration, which was essentially serviceable in curing his palsy, and restoring him to health.

AFTER the decease of Huneric, his successor recalled Eugenius and the rest of the orthodox clergy; the Arians taking the alarm, persuaded him to banish them again, which he complied with, when Eugenius, being exiled to Languedoc, in France, died there of the hardships he underwent on the 6th of September, A. D. 505.

DIONYSIA, a lady of fortune, and a widow, be|ing apprehended as an orthodox christian, was stripped naked, and exposed in a most inde|cent manner, and severely scourged. Her son, a young lad, being seized at the same time, seemed afraid of the torture, and looked pitifully at his mother, who ordered him not to fear any torments that could be inflicted on him, but to be constant to the faith in which she had brought him up.— When he was upon the rack, she again comforted him in these words:

"REMEMBER, O my child, that we were bapti|zed in the name of the ever sacred Trinity; let us not loose the benefit thereof, lest it should hereaf|ter be said, cast them into outer darkness, where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth: for that pain, which never endeth, is indeed to be dreaded, and that life, which endureth to eternity, to be de|sired." Whereupon the youth patiently persevered, and from the force of his torments resigned his soul to his God.

THE pious mother saw the death of her son with pleasure, and soon after received the crown of mar|tyrdom herself.

THE Arian bishop of Carthage, named Cyrilla. was a most furious heretic, and a very great enemy to those christians who professed the faith in its purity. Having gained the ear of the king, he persuaded him that he could never expect prosperity in his undertakings, or hope to enjoy his kingdom in peace, while he suffered any of the orthodox chris|tians to live.

THIS weak monarch, believing all that Cyrilla told him, sent for several of the most eminent christians, who were particularly obnoxious to that prelate. He, at first, attempted to draw them from their faith by flattery, and to bribe them from the hopes of future salvation, by the promise of immediate worldly rewards. Being firm and con|stant in their faith, they were proof against the for|mer, and despised the latter; declaring resolutely against Arianism, and saying, we acknowledge but one Lord, one faith, and one baptism; you ma•• therefore do whatever you please with our bo••ies, for it is better we should suffer a few tem|porary pain••▪ than to endure everlasting torments.

THE king, being greatly exasperated at this free|dom, sent them to a filthy dark dungeon, and or|dered them to be put into irons. The keeper, however, not b••ing of the savage disposition too common to such as are entrusted with the care of gaols, suffered their friends to have access to them; by which they received great consolation, and be|came daily more and more confirmed in their reso|lution of dying for the sake of Ch••i••t.

THE king hearing of the indulgence given them by their keeper, was exceedingly angry, and sent orders that they should be more closely confined, and loaded with still heavier setters. He then be|gan to ruminate in his mind by what means be should put them to death, and after resolving over and over all the mod••s of cruelty that he could re|collect, he at length determined to imitate the mo••••strous barbarity of the emperor Valens, who as we have already related, caused fourscore clergymen to be burnt together in a ship. Fixing upon this in|fernal precedent, he ordered these christians to be put on board a ship filled with combustible materials, and the vessels being set fire to, they received the crown of martyrdom. The names of several of the principal of these christians ••ere, Rusticus,

Severus, Liberatus, Boniface, Septimus, Servus, and Rogatus.

An Account of Persecutions from about the Middle of the Fifth, to the Conclusion of the Seventh Century.

PROTERIUS was made a priest by Cyril, bi|shop of Alexandria, who was well acquainted with his virtues, before he appointed him to preach. On the death of Cyril, the see of Alexandria was filled by Dioscorus, an inveterate enemy both ••o the memory and family of his predecessor. Dios|corus, however, knowing the reputation of Prote|rius, did the utmost in his power to gain his confi|dence and interest; as he thought he might be of singular service to him in carrying on his designs.

PROTERIUS, however, was not to be corrupted, the welfare of the church sat next his heart, and no prospect of worldly preferment could bribe him to forego his duty.

DIOSCORUS being condemned by the council of Chalcedon for having embraced the errors of Eu|tyches, was deposed, and Proterius chosen to fill the vacant see, and approved of by the emperor. This occasioned a dangerous insurrection, for the city of Alexandria was divided into two factions; the one to espouse the cause of the old, and the other of the new prelate. A great deal of mis|chief was done on both sides, and Proterius was in the most imminent danger, from a set of chismatics who would neither obey the decisions of a council, nor the emperor's decree.

AS these disorders became serious, the governor of Th••bais marched at the head of a body of troops, in order to quell the sedition. The people, however, had worked up their imaginations to a kind of phrenzy▪ when they heard of the approach of the governor, they armed themselves, marched out of Alexandria, gave him battle, and defeated him. The intelligence of this affair so exasperated the emperor, that ••e sent a detachment of two thousand men against them; the appearance of whom, and the prudence of the governor of Alex|andria, whose name was Florus, soon restored peace to the city.

THE discontented party, however, still beheld Proterius with an eye of resentment; so that he was obliged to have a guard out of respect to his personal safety, and at length, though naturally of a sweet and mild temper, was compelled to excom|municate some of them, and obtain their banish|ment from Alexandria. Ecclesiastical history, how|ever, informs us, that, "When emperor Mar|cian's death, which happened two years after, gave a new turn to affairs, the exiles returned to Alex|andria, engaged in their usual cabals against Prote|rius, and seemed resolved to be revenged on him for what they had suffered in the last reign. Ti|mothy, a priest, who was at the head of all the de|signs that had been formed against Proterius, em|ployed every art to ruin his credit, drawing the people from his communion, and raising himself to that see. At last, taking the advantage of the ab|sence of Dionysius, who commanded the forces of that province, and was then in the Upper Egypt, he seized on the great church, and was uncanoni|cally and sacrilegiously consecrated by two bishops of his faction, that had been deposed for heresy. The usurper went on in the exercise of all the epis|copal functions, and used the whole rigour of his pretended authority to oppress the orthodox, till the commander's return, who, upon hearing the dis|orders that had been committed, and that Timo|thy was the chief author of them, drove that in|cendiary out of the town."

THIS affair so enraged the Eutychians, that they determined to wreak their vengeance on Proterius, who fled to the ••urch for sanctuary: but on Good Friday, A. D. 4••7, a large body of them rushed into the church, and barbarously murdered the prelate; after which they dragged the body through the streets, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it, cut it to pieces, burnt it, and scattered the ashes in the air.

JULIA, a Carthaginian lady, was taken prisoner when the Vandals sacked that city. After being sold and resold as a slave, she became the property of a Syrian pagan, named Eusebius. Her master could not but admire a religion which inspired such resignation and patience in va••••alage, and the 〈◊〉〈◊〉

painful employments: thus it is plain, that the hu|mility and purity prescribed by christianity will at|tract even the admiration of heathens.

THE master of Julia frequently took her with him upon his voyages: in one of these they touch|ed upon the island of Corsica, where Eusebius joined in an idolatrous festival; but Julia kept at a distance.

THE heathens complained of this conduct as dis|respectful to their gods, and informed the governor Felix of it, who sent for Eusebius, and demanded what young woman it was that had refused to join in worship to the gods?

EUSEBIUS replied, that the young woman was a christian, and that all his authority over her had proved too weak to prevail with her to renounce her religion; but that, as she was a very diligent and faithful servant, he could not think of parting with her.

FELIX then pressed him to exert himself on this occasion, and either to oblige her to assist at the pa|gan worship, or to part with her; and offered to give him his own price, or four of his best female slaves in exchange for her, which Eusebius absolute|ly refused, saying, that he would not part from her at any price.

FELIX finding the master inflexible, determined to get her into his power by artifice. To effect this, he invited Eusebius to an entertainment, and having intoxicated him, he sent for Julia in the name of her master.

THE innocent slave not suspecting the trap laid for her, came immediately, when the governor told her that he would procure her liberty, if she would sacrifice to the heathen gods. To which Ju|lia replied, that while she was permitted to enjoy her religion, she was as free as she desired to be.

FELIX, not being able to prevail, ordered her to be severely beaten, which she bore with the utmost p••ti••nce. Finding her still resolute, he command|••d, that the hair of her head should be pulled up by the roots. This barbarity having no greater effect than the former, he sentenced her to be hang|ed, which sentence was immediately put in exe|cution.

JULIA was scarce dead when Eusebius recovered from his intoxication. As soon as he understood what had past, he was greatly afflicted, and in the first transports of his resentment had thoughts of complaining to the emperor, who being a christian, would have punished the perfidy of the governor. But reflecting again, that Felix had only acted with a zeal for the deities he himself adored, he deter|mined to put up with the loss, and retire from a place which was become so disagreeable to him.

HERMENIGILDUS was a Gothic prince, being the eldest son of Leovigildus, king of the Goths, in Spain. This prince, who was originally an Arian, became a convert to the orthodox faith, by mea•••• of his wife Ingonda. When the king heard that his son had changed his religious sentiments, ••e stripped him of the command at Seville, where he was governor, and threatened to put him to death, unless he renounced the faith he had newly em|braced.

THE prince, in order to prevent the execution of his father's menaces, began to put himself into a posture of defence; and many of the orthodox per|suasion in Spain declared for him. The king, ex|asperated at this act of rebellion, began to puni•••• all the orthodox christians who could be seized by his troops; and thus a very severe persecution commenced: he likewise marched against his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 at the head of a very powerful army. The prince, knowing that he was unable to oppose the formid|able force that his father was bringing against him, implored ••he assistance of the Roman troops that were left 〈◊〉〈◊〉 garrison those parts of Spain, which the emperor stil•• possessed. The Roman commander engaged to assist Hermenigildus, but being bribe•• by the king he broke his promise. Leovigild•••• then made it his business, as much as possible, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 detach the orthodox christians from the interest 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his son; and in this he had great success, for it 〈◊〉〈◊〉 effected in 581, by convening the Arian prelates 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Toledo, who abolished the practice of re-baptizing those that came over to their sect, and drew up 〈◊〉〈◊〉 captious profession of faith which deceived 〈◊〉〈◊〉

and prevailed upon them to quit the interest of Hermenigildus.

THE prince, thus forsaken by numbers of those whom he most confided in, was obliged to retreat towards Seville, in which city he soon after shut himself up, and sent to Constantinople for assistance from the emperor. The death of that monarch, however, prevented him from receiving any relief; for Maurice, who succeeded him, found his own hands too full to afford any succour to Hermenigil|dus. The king, who had information of every step which his son took, proceeded to Seville, and laid siege to it. The prince defended the place with great bravery, and even held out for the space of twelvemonths; but finding that the city must soon be taken, he privately made his escape, and fled to the Roman troops to beg protection. Be|ing informed that they intended to give him up, he precipitately retired to Corduba, and from thence went to Asseto, which he fortified.

AFTER the escape of the prince from Seville that city surrendered, and the king having properly gar|risoned it, pursued his son, laid siege to Asseto, and soon obliged it to surrender. The unfortunate prince being driven to this distress, flew to a church for sanctuary. The king having too much respect for the sanctity of the place to force him from it, sent an officer, named Reccaredus, to assure him of his pardon, upon his submitting to ask it. The prince believing his father to be sincere, immediate|ly went to him, and threw himself most submissively at his feet. The king, however, instead of for|giving him, loaded him with chains, and carried him to Seville, where he endeavoured, both by promises and menaces, to make him renounce the orthodox faith.

THE prince remained constant to the truth; and at the feast of Easter, when the king sent an Arian bishop to him to administer the eucharist, Herme|nigildus absolutely refused to receive it, which so enraged the king, that before he gave himself time to reflect, he ordered some of his guards to go and cut the prince to pieces, which they punctually per|formed, April the 13th, A. D. 586.

ANASTASIUS, a Persian, was brought up a pagan, and bore arms as a soldier under Cosroes, king of Persia, at the time that monarch plundered Jerusa|lem; and, among other things, carried off the very cross on which Christ was crucified. Anastasius could not imagine why the christians had such a veneration for a person who had died so mean a death as that of being crucified; for that mode of death was, by the Persians, held in the greatest con|tempt, and none but the very lowest and most de|spicable malefactors were executed in that manner. Applying to some christian captives, he was in|structed in the whole christian mystery, and being charmed with the purity of a faith which inspired such fortitude, he left the army, and retired to Sy|ria: here he learned the trade of a goldsmith, and then going to Jerusalem, he supported himself by that business; was baptized by Modestus, vicar-general of Jerusalem: and staid a week with Elias, his godfather.

WHEN that time was over, and he was now to quit the white clothes which he wore at his bap|tism, according to the then practice of the church, he desired the priest would put him in a way of renouncing the world entirely, and fulfilling the obligations of his profession without interruption. Elias recommended him to Justin, abbot of a se|minary four miles from Jerusalem, who employed a proper person to instruct him in the Greek tongue, and to teach him the Psalms; and then admitted him into his religious community. Anastasius pas|sed seven years in that house, where he divided his time between the most humble domestic employ|ments, and the truly christian entertainments of the word of God, the lives of the fathers, and the acts of the martyrs. He was most sensibly affected with those monuments of pagan barbarity, and christian courage; and conceived a strong desire to lay down his life for Jesus Christ.

GOING to Caesarea, which was then in the hands of the Persians, he was taken up as a spy, and brought before Marzabanes, governor of that city, to whom he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that he was a christian, and was on that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sent to prison. When he had lain there some time, Marzabanes sent for him, and gave him fresh assurances of favour and promotion,

if he would but renounce his religion: but he despised and rejected every mark of friendship and respect, that would endeavour to divorce him from his God; and the governor ordered him to be beaten till he should agree to his proposals. He then remanded him to prison, where he spent his time in prayer, and such labours as were imposed on him as part of his punishment. Justin being apprized of his sufferings, recommended him to the prayers of the whole community, and sent two of his people to encourage him to perseve|rance.

AT length, the governor wrote to the king con|cerning Anastasius, and on receiving an answer, told the prisoner, that he would give him his liber|ty if he would ••enounce the christian religion, only before him and two witnesses, and that his renunciation should not be known. Anastasius heard this proposal with horror, and rejected it with disdain; when the governor sent him bound in chains to Persia, there to be dealt with as the king should direct.

THE king did all in his power to engage him to renounce his religion, but finding his endea|vours in vain, he ordered him to be executed, which was performed in this manner: he was laid upon his back, with a piece of wood across his legs, pressed down with the whole weight of two lusty men; he was then severely beaten, hung up by one hand, with a weight fastened to his foot; and after being strangled, his head cut off, and sent to the king.

MARTIN, bishop of Rome, was born at To••••, in Italy. He was naturally inclined to virtue, and his parents bestowed upon him an admirable edu|cation. He had every liberal endowment that the sciences could bestow, and all the worthiness that a mortal could derive from the saving grace of the gospel. He took orders, and on the death of Theodore, bishop of Rome, was advanced to that important see, by an unanimous election, in which all parties gave him the fullest praises, and admitted, that he well merited a trust of such great consequence.

HIS character hath been thus drawn by a ma|sterly hand:

"HIS compassion for the poor appeared in large contributions for their relief, and the offices of hospitality which he performed in favour of stran|gers. His fasts were rigorous and frequent, and prayer employed a very considerable part of his time. He was always ready to receive returning sinners; took no small pains to lead such through the pat•••• of repentance, as testified their sorrow by tear••; and comforted them by letting them see what reason they had to confide in God's infinite goodness. He loved his clergy with a brotherly tenderness, and honoured the episcopal character wherever it was found.

THE first trouble he recei••••d in his episcopal ca|pacity, was from a set of heretics, called Mono|thelites; who not daring, after the express decisions of the council of Chalcedon, to maintain the unity of nature in Christ, asserted artfully, that he had but one will and operation of mind. This sect was patronized by the emperor Heraclius; and the f••rst who attempted to stop the progress of these errors, was Sophronius, bishop of Jeru|salem.

MARTIN, who perfectly coincided in sentiments with the bishop of Jerusalem, called a council•• which consisted of 105 bishops, and they unani|mously condemned the errors in question.

INCENSED at these proceedings, the emperor or|dered Olympius, his lieutenant in Italy, to repair to Rome, and seize the bishop, provided it could be done without causing an insurrection. The lieute|nant performed the journey; but on his arrival at Rome, he found the people too unanimous in their opinions, and the prelate too much beloved, to attempt any thing by open violence. Hence he had recourse to treachery▪ and suborned a ruf|fian to assassinate the bishop at the altar; but the fellow, after promising to execute the bloody deed, was seized with such horrors of mind, that he had not the power to perform his promise. Olympius, finding it would be very difficult to perform any thing against Martin, withdrew from Rome, and

putting himself at the head of his troops, march|ed against the Saracens, who had made some in|roads into Italy, but he died in the expedition.

OLYMPIUS was succeeded by Calliopas, who re|ceived express orders to seize the person of Martin, which, with the assistance of a considerable body of soldiers, he performed; at the same time shew|ing the clergy the imperial mandate, which com|manded him to dispossess Martin of his bishopric, and carry him to Constantinople as a prisoner.

AFTER a very tedious voyage, and enduring in|numerable hardships, he reached the imperial city of Constantinople, and was immediately thrown into prison. While in confinement, he wrote two epistles to the emperor to refute the calumnies for|ged against him with respect to his faith and loyalty. The substance of which was, that for a proof of the soundness of the former, he appeals to the tes|timony of the whole clergy, and his own solemn protestation to defend the truth as long as he lived. In answer to such objections as had been made a|gainst the latter, he declared he neither sent money, letters, or advice to the Saracens, but only remitted a sum for the relief of poor christians among those people: he concludes with saying, that nothing could be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 false than what the heretics had al|ledged against him concerning the Blessed Virgin, whom he firmly believed to be the mother of God, and worthy of all honour 〈…〉〈…〉 divine Son. In his 〈…〉〈…〉 of his being 〈…〉〈…〉 already related, and his 〈…〉〈…〉 from 〈…〉〈…〉 and hoping his 〈…〉〈…〉, when 〈…〉〈…〉 removed from this 〈◊〉〈◊〉."

〈…〉〈…〉 undergone were 〈…〉〈…〉, that on the 〈…〉〈…〉 was forced to be 〈…〉〈…〉 he was unable 〈…〉〈…〉, the judge 〈…〉〈…〉 purpose. Martin began his defence, but as soon as he enter|ed upon an investigation of the errors which he had combated, one of the senators stopped him, and said, that he was only examined respecting civil af|fairs, and consequently that ecclesiastical matters had nothing to do in his defence. The judge then pre|vented him from going on, and having broke up the court, went and reported the progress of the proceedings to the emperor.

MARTIN was now ordered to be exposed in the most public places of the town, to the ridicule of the people; to be divested of all the episcopal marks of distinction, and to be treated with the greatest scorn and severity. All these rigours he bore with a christian-like patience, and a degree of fortitude that only heaven can inspire.

AFTER laying some months in prison, ••artin was sent to an island at some distance, and there cut to pieces, A. D. 655.

JOHN, bishop of Bergamo, in Lombardy, was a learned man, and a good christian. He did his utmost endeavours to clear the church from Arian|ism, and joining in this holy work with John, bi|shop of Milan, he was very successful against the heretics. Grimoald, however, an Arian, having usurped the throne of Lombardy, the orthodox christians feared that heresy would gain footing•• once more, in Lombardy; but the bishop of Ber|gamo used such persuasive arguments with Gri|moald, that he brou••ht him from the errors of Arianism to profes•• the orthodox faith.

AFTER the death of Grimoald, and his son who succeeded him, Pantha••it ••ame to the crown, and 〈…〉〈…〉 errors which had been com|bated with suc•• spirit by the orthodox clergy. The bishop of B••r••••mo exerted himself strenuously ••o prev••••t the heresy from spreading, on which ac|count he wa•• assassinated on July 11, A. D. ••83.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 was born in Ireland, and received from his parents 〈…〉〈…〉 and christian education. His favorite study was theology, and he took great de|light in perusing the holy scriptures. Hence an ar|dent 〈…〉〈…〉 for the glory of God glowed within

him, and he took great pains to bring many to the light of the gospel.

AS the narrow limits of his native island seemed too small for his unbounded zeal, he crossed the sea, together with eleven other persons, in order to make converts on the continent. On landing they directed their course to what is now called the Circle of Franconia, in Germany. Coming to the city of Wurtzbourg, they found the people in general, and their governor Gozbert, to be pagans; but from their good dispositions, conceived great hopes of converting them from idolatry and superstition to the gospel faith. Previous to making this attempt, however, he deemed it necessary to go to Rome, in order to obtain his mission from th•• pontiff. He accordingly went thither, attended by o•• Col••••••an a priest, and Totman a deacon, two of those who had accompanied him from Ireland, and found Conon in Peter's chair. He gave them a favourable recep|tion, and being informed of Kilien's business at Rome, after some questions about his faith and doc|trine, consecrated him bishop, with full permission to preach to the infidels wherever he found them. Thus authorized, Kilien returned to Wurtzbourg, where he opened his mission. He had not been long employed in those evangelical labours, when Gozbert sent for him, and desired to know the na|ture and tendency of this new religion, which he recommended so vigorously, and proposed so bold|ly. Our holy bishop had several conferences with the governor on that subject, and God gave such a blessing to his endeavours, that Gozbert received the faith, was baptized, and gave him free leave to preach wherever he had any power. As the ex|ample of great men seldom fails of influencing those of an inferior rank, that of Gozbert went very far in commanding the attention of his pagan subjects to what our prelate had to offer; and in less than two years much the greatest part of them became christians.

IT is to be observed, that Gozbert had married his brother's widow, for which Kilien, though he knew the sinfulness of the thing, did not chuse to rebuke him till he was thoroughly confirmed in his faith. When he thought him fully instructed in the principles of christianity, and well grounded in the purity of its precepts, he intreated the governor, as the last proof of the sincerity of his conversion▪ to quit that person whom he had hitherto looked upon as a wife, as he could not cohabit with her without committing sin. Gozbert, surprized at the pro|posal, told the bishop this was the hardest demand he had ever made upon him. "But (said he) since I have renounced my own inclinations and pleasures in so many particulars for the love of God, I will make the work complete, by complying with your advice in this too."

THE governor's wife being informed of this af|fair, determined to be revenged on those who had persuaded Gozbert into such a resolution. The mis|sionaries were sensible of that wicked woman's de|sign; and the only shield they had, consisted of prayer, patience, and resig••a••ion. She sent ac|cordingly to the place where they usually assembled, and had them all beheaded. Kilien, and his com|panions, submitted without resistance, the former telling them, that they need not fear those who had no power of the soul, but could only kill the body, which, in a short time, would of itself decay. This happened, A. D. 689, and the martyrs were pri|vately buried in the night, together with their clothes, books, &c.

SOME writers add what follows, as the sequel of this bloody affair: "Some days after this impious tragedy was acted, Gozbert, surprized that he had not seen Kilien lately, ordered diligent search to be made for him. Geilana, to stop the inquiry, gave out, that he and his companion had left the town, without giving any account of their motions. But the instrument of her revenge, the executioner•• violently racked with remorse of conscience, ••an about like a mad man, and declared that Kilien burnt him. Thus discovered, he was seized; and Gozbert was considering what to do with him, when a creature of the governess▪ a man of great eloquence and artifice, and a pretended convert, ad|vised him to leave the God of the christians the task of doing himself justice on his enemies, and pro|posed the event as a t••st of his power.

GOZBERT was weak enough to ••••mpt God, by putting it on that issue. The murderer, being set at liberty, went raving mad, tore his own flesh with his teeth, and died in this miserable condition.

Geilana was so perplexed in her conscience, that it tormented her till she expired; Gozbert's rashness and criminal condescension, was punished by vio|lent death, and his whole race was cut off in a few years.

An Account of Persecutions from the early Part of the ••ighth, to near the Conclusion of the tenth Century.

BONIFACE, archbishop of Mentz, and fa|ther of the German church, was an English|••••an, and is, in ecclesiastical history, looked upon as one of the brightest ornaments of his nation. Originally his name was Winfr••d, or Wi••••••ith, and he was born at Kirton, in Devonshire, then part of the West-Saxon kingdom. When he was only about six years of age, he began to discover a propensity to reflection, and seemed solicitous to gain information on religious subjects. Soon after, some evangelical missionaries came by chance to Kirton, and happened to fix their abode at his fa|ther's house. From these he understood, that the principal step to salvation was, to deny himself, and follow Christ. He considered seriously of what he heard, and, in process of time, determined to de|vote himself to a religious life. When he inform|ed his father of his resolution, ••he latter would willingly have dissuaded him from it; but find|ing him fully resolved, he permitted him to go and reside at a monastery in the city of Exeter. Wolfrad, the abbot, finding tha•• he possessed a bright genius, as well as a strong inclination to study, had him removed to Nutscelle, a seminary of learn|ing, in the diocese of Winchester, where he would have a much greater opportunity of attaining im|provement than at Exeter. T••e abbot of Nut|scelle, who was as much celebrated for his great learning as his christian virtues, took uncommon pains with his young pupil, who, in time, became a prodigy in profound literature, and divine know|ledge; and was, at length, employed at Nu••scelle as a principal teacher.

THE ancient Saxon historians, who speak highly in his praise, tell us, that those who studied un|der him had no need to remove to any other place to finish what they had begun, for he gave them lessons in grammar, poetry, rhetoric, and philosophy; and explained the holy scriptures in the literal, moral, and mystical senses. But his exam|ple was as instructive as his lectures, and while he formed his scholars to learning by his dictates, he encouraged them to the practice of virtue, by the prudent conduct of his life.

THE abbot of Nutscelle, seeing him thus quali|fied for the priesthood, obliged him to receive that holy order, when he was about thirty years old. From that time he began to preach, and labour for the salvation of his fellow-creatures; in the pro|gress of which he gave the first proofs of that apos|tolical zeal, that afterwards made such glorious con|quests in a barbarous part of the world.

THERE being an important occasion to assemble a synod of bishops in the kingdom of the West-Saxons, it was judged expedient to depute one of their body to the archbishop of Canterbury, to in|form him of the exigency of affairs. Upon con|side••••ng who was proper to be charged with such a commission, Boniface was proposed, and unani|mously chosen by the synod; and the choice was approved of, and confirmed by the then reigning king of the West-Saxons.

BONIFACE discharged this trust with great pru|dence, and obtained the applause of every member of the synod; but far from being vain of the repu|tation he had acquired, he proposed to forsake his country, relations, and friends, in order to be of service to the faith, and extend christianity on the continent. At first, the abbot and monks of Nut|scelle would have dissuaded him from his purpose; but finding him resolute, two of their number were ordered to assist him.

HE accordingly left Nutscelle, and arrived in Friezland about the year 716; but found that coun|try in the utmost disorder and confusion. It had be|longed to the crown of France, but was at that time in the possession of prince Radbord, who had estab|lished paganism in it, persecuted the christians, and was at war with Charles Martel, mayor of the pa|lace of Austrastia.

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firmed Boniface in his power; and approved of all he had done in Germany, making him at the same time archbishop of Mentz, and metropolitan over thirteen bishoprics. He did not, however, lose his simplicity in grandeur, or forget his innocence in the parade of ecclesiastical dignity, but studied to preserve that humility, which is so pathetically re|commended in Matt. v. 3, 12.

DURING the ministry of this meek prelate, Pe|pin was declared king of France. It was that prince's ambition to be crowned by the most holy prelate he could find, and Boniface was pitched on to perform that ceremony, which he did at Soissons in 752. The next year his great age, and many infirmities lay so heavy on him, that with the con|sent of the new king, the bishops, &c. of his diocese, he consecrated Lullus, his country man, and faithful disciple, and placed him in the see of Mentz. When he had thus eased himself of his charge, he recommended the church of Mentz to the care of the new bishop in very strong terms, desired he would finish the church at Fuld, and see him buried in it, for his end was near.

HAVING left these orders, he took boat to the Rhine, and went to Friezland, where he converted and baptized several thousand of the barbarous na|tives, demolished the temples, and raised churches on the ruins of those superstitious structures.

HAVING appointed a day for confirming a great number of new converts, he ordered them to assem|ble in an open plain near the river Bourde. Thi|ther he repaired the day before; and pitching a tent, determined to remain on the spot all night, in order to be ready early in the morning.

SOME pagans, who were his inveterate enemies, having intelligence of this, poured down upon him, and the companions of his mission, in the night, in such a manner as sufficiently evinced their design of massacreing them. The servants of Boniface were for repelling the barbarians by force of arms; but he opposed the motion, told them, and his clergy, that the moment he had long wished for was now come, and exhorted his assistants in the ministry to prepare themselves for martyrdom. While he was thus employed, the pagans rushed in upon him, and killed him and fifty-two of his companions and attendants, on June 5, A. D. 755. Thus fell the great father of the Germanic church, the honour of England, and the glory of the age in which he lived.

FORTY-TWO persons of Armorian, in upper Phry|gia, were martyred in the year 845, by the Sa|racens, the circumstances of which transaction are as follow:

IN the reign of Theophilus, the Saracens rava|ged many parts of the eastern empire, gained seve|ral considerable advantages over the christians; and at length laid siege to the city of Armorian. The garrison bravely defended the place for a considerable time, and would, in all probability, have obliged their enemies to raise the siege, when the place was basely betrayed by a renegado. Great numbers were put to the sword; and two general officers, with some other persons of distinction, were carried prisoners to Bagdat, where they were loaded with heavy chains, and thrown into a dark dungeon.

THEY continued in prison for a considerable time without seeing any persons but their gaolers, or receiving any allowance greater than what would barely subsist them; the bare ground was their bed, and hope their only consolation. During this time, however, they only considered them|selves as prisoners of war; but at length they were informed, that nothing could preserve their lives but renouncing their religion and embracing mahometanism.

TO induce them to comply, the caliph pretended a very great zeal for their welfare; and declared, that he looked upon converts in a more glorious light than conquests; and the gaining of souls, of much greater importance than the subduing of kingdoms. Agreeable to these maxims, after they had suffered all the hardships of a dark and noisome prison, and were reduced to a state that might oblige them to accept of relief on any terms, he sent some of the most ingenious and artful of the Mahometans, with money and clothes, and the promise of other advantages they might secure to themselves by a bare abjuration of christianity; which, according to the corrupt casuistry of those

infidels, might be made without quitting their faith. But our martyrs, well instructed in the simplicity and sincerity of the gospel, rejected the proposal with horror and contempt. After this they were attacked with that fallacious and delusive argument which the Mahometans still use in favour of them|selves, and their monstrous absurdities! they were desired to judge of the merits of the cause by the success of those who were engaged in it; and chuse that religion which they saw flourished most, and was best rewarded with the good things of this life, which they called the blessings of heaven. But our noble prisoners were proof against all these tempta|tions; and argued strenuously against the authority of their false prophet. This incensed the Maho|metans, and drew greater hardships upon the chris|tians during their confinement, which lasted seven years. At the end of that time Boidizius, the re|negado that had betrayed Armorian, brought them the welcome news of their sufferings being to con|clude in martyrdom the next day. To which he added his advice to them to save their lives by dissi|mulation, a fault very excusable, he said, in their circumstances. But they knew what curse was de|nounced by Christ against such as deny him be|fore men; and were therefore prepared to meet death in any shape, rather than commit that horrid crime.

AS soon as they were brought from their dun|geon, they were again solicited to embrace the tenets of Mahomet; but neither threats nor pro|mises, the denunciations of malice, nor allurement of rewards, could induce them to forsake the true faith, or prevail on them to espouse the doctrines of an impostor.

FINDING their resolution, and that their faith could not by any means be shaken, the caliph or|dered them to be executed. Theodore, one of the number, had formerly received priest's orders, and officiated as a clergyman; but afterwards quitting the church, he had followed a military life, and raised himself by the sword to some considerable posts, which he enjoyed at the time of his being ta|ken prisoner. The officer who attended the exe|cution, being apprized of these circumstances, said to Theodore, "You might, indeed, pretend to be ranked amongst the christians, while you served in their church as a priest; but the profession you have taken up, which naturally engages you in blood|shed, is so contrary to your former employment, that you should not now think of passing upon us, for one of that religion. When you quitted the altar for the camp, you renounced Jesus Christ. Why then will you dissemble any longer with the world? Would you not act more conformable to your own principles, and make your conduct all of a piece, if you came to a resolution of saving your life by owing our great prophet?"

THEODORE, covered with a religious confusion at this strong reproach, but still full of courage, and unshaken in his faith, made the following answer: "It is true, said he, I did in some measure aban|don my God when I engaged in the army, and scarce deserve the name of a christian. But the Almighty has given me the grace to see myself in a true light, and made me sensible of my fault; and I hope he will be pleased to accept my life, as the only sacrifice I can now offer to expiate my guilt. His mercies are infinite, and therefore I have room to hope my blood may be allowed to wash away my crimes. And in this I appeal to your own sentiments. If, in the same case, any one that had left your ser|vice, and rambled negligent of his duty for some time, should at last return and offer to lay down his life for you, would not you be inclined to forget all that was past, and receive him into your family again?"

THIS pious and manly answer confounded the of|ficer, who only answered, that he should presently have an opportunity of giving that proof of his zeal for, and fidelity to, his master. Upon which, Theodore and the rest, to the number of forty-two, were beheaded.

FLORA and Mary, two ladies of distinction, suf|fered martyrdom at the same time. Flora was the daughter of an eminent Mahometan, at Seville, in Spain; from whence he removed to Corduba, where the Saracen king resided, and kept his court. Her father dying while she was young, Flora was left to the care of her mother, who, being a chris|tian, brought her up in the true faith, and inspired her with sentiments of virtue and religion. A priest of Corduba, who personally knew both her and her

mother, and who wrote the account of her martyr|dom, hath given us the following portrait of her character: "Flora (says he) was a great proficient in the spiritual life, at an age when little is thought of but the world and its vanities; her whole thoughts seemed turned to Jesus Christ; her whole discourse was inflamed with the divine love; God was her sole care; her f••sts were rigorous; her devotion full of fervour; her concern for the poor most surprizing and edifying; and the pre|cepts of the gospel were her constant study. Her brother being a professed enemy to christianity, with the addition of a barbarous and savage temper, Flo|ra was for some time obliged to use no small caution in the practice of such virtues, as must have exposed her to a domestic persecution at least. She was too zealous to bear this restraint l••ng; for which reason she left Corduba, in comp••ny with her sister.

HER departure soon alarmed her brother, who guessed its motives, and, in revenge, informed against several christians of Corduba; for as he did not know whither his sister was gone, he determin|ed to wreak his vengeance on such christians as were present.

FLORA being informed of these proceedings, con|sidered herself as the cause of what the christians had suffered at Corduba, and having an interior convic|tion that God called her to fight for her faith, she returned to that city, and made her way directly to the persecutors, among whom she found her bro|ther. "If, said our glorious martyr, I am the ob|ject of your enquiry, if the servants of God are tormented on my account, I now freely offer my|self to your disposal. I declare, I believe Jesus Christ, glory in his cross, and profess the doctrine which he taught. This now is my confession; and I hope, through the divine mercy, that no|thing you can do to me will be able to make me retract or alter it." None of the company seemed so much enraged at this declaration as her brother, who, after some threats, struck her; this violent proceeding was followed by attempts of a softer na|ture; for he endeavoured to gain her by expressions of concern, and pretended kindness. Finding her equally insensible to all he could say, he then in|formed against her, and undertook to prove her a christian before the judge. He insinuated, that Flora had been educated in the religion of Maho|met, but had renounced it at the suggestion of some christians, who inspired her with the utmost con|tempt for the great prophet. When she was called to answer to the charge, she declared she never owned Mahomet, but sucked the christian religion in with her milk, and was entirely devoted to the Redeemer of mankind. The magistrate, finding her resolution, delivered her to her brother, and gave him orders to use his utmost endeavours to make her a Mahometan. She, however, soon found an opportunity of escaping over a wall in the night, and of secreting herself in the house of a christian. At length, she withdrew to Tucci, a village of Andalusia, where she met with her sister, and they never separated again till her martyrdom.

MARY, who was martyred at the same time, was the daughter of a christian tradesman at Estrema|dura, who afterwards removed to a town near Corduba.

WHEN the persecution began under Abderrama, king of the Saracens, in Spain, Mary's brother was one who fell a victim to the rage of the infidels on that occasion. Mary, hearing of his martyrdom, and full of a generous confusion at being left be|hind by one so much younger than herself, gave a free loose to her grief, which proceeded not so much from the loss of her brother, as her not be|ing allowed to enjoy the hap••iness then in his pos|session.

FULL of thes•• thoughts she went to Corduba, where, going in••o a church▪ sh•• ••ound Flora, who had left h••r 〈◊〉〈◊〉 on 〈…〉〈…〉 motive, and was there recommending herself to th•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and re|warder of such vi••••ories as christians then gained over infidels. Upon conv••••ing together, and find|ing they acted on the same heroic principles, and proposed the same glorious end of their labours, they agreed to go together, and declare their faith before the judge. Accordingly, without farther hesitation, they proceeded to the magistrate, when Flora boldly told him, she looked on Mahomet as no better than a false prophet, an adulterer, and a magician.

MARY then told the magistrate, that she pro|fessed

the same faith, and entertained the same sen|timents as Flora, and that she was sister to Wala|bonzus, who had already suffered for being a chris|tian. This behaviour so much enraged the ma|gistrate, that he ordered them to be committed to close confinement for some time, and then to be beheaded: which sentence was executed on the 4th of November, A. D. 850.

PERFECTUS was born at Corduba, in Spain, and brought up in the christian faith. Having a quick genius, he made himself master of all the useful and polite literature of that age; and, at the same time, was not more celebrated for his abilities, than admired for his piety. At length he took priest's orders, and performed the duties of his office with great assiduity and punctuality.

WALKING one day in the streets of Corduba, some Arabians entered into conversation with him, and, among other questions, asked him his opinion both of Jesus Christ, and of Mahomet.

PERFECTUS gave them a very exact account of the christian faith, respecting the divinity of Christ, and the redemption of mankind; but begged to b•• excused from delivering his sentiments concerning Mahomet. The Arabians pressed him to speak freely; but he declined it, saying, that what he should utter would not be agreeable to their ideas, and consequently that it would be disgusting to thei•• ears; he therefore thought best to be silent, as he wished not to offend any one. Dissatisfied with this answer, they still intreated him to speak his thoughts, declaring at the same time, that they would not be offended at any thing he should say.

BELIEVING them sincere, and hoping this might be the favourable time allotted by God for their conversion, Perfectus let them know the christians looked on Mahomet as one of the false prophets foretold in the gospel, who were to seduce and de|ceive great numbers, to their eternal ruin. To illustrate this affe••tion, he placed before them some of the actions of that grand impostor; endeavoured to show them the impious doctrines, and abomina|ble absurdities of the Alcoran; and ended with ex|horting them, in very strong terms, to quit the miserable state in which they then were, and which would certainly be followed by eternal misery.

IT may be easily imagined, that the infidels could not hear a discourse like this without feeling some warmth, and conceiving an indignation against the speaker. They thou 〈◊〉〈◊〉 proper, however, to dis|guise their resentments 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that time, but were re|solved not to let him escape without punishment. At first, indeed, they were unwilling to use any violence to him, because they had given him a solemn assurance he should come to no harm, for the liberty he took at their request; but zeal for their law, and its author, soon eased them of that scruple. They watched a favourable opportunity, seized on him, hurried him away to one of their chief magistrates, and accused him of blaspheming th••ir great prophet and legislator.

THE whole alleg••••••on having been heard, the judge ordered him to be put in chains, and closely confined in prison, till the feast of their Ramadan, or Lent, when he should be made a victim to Ma|homet. He heard the determination of the judge with joy, and prepared for his martyrdom with great fervency.

WHEN the time arrived, he was led to the place of execution, where he again made a confes|sion of his faith, declared Mahomet an impostor, and insisted, that the Alcoran was filled with ab|surdities and blasphemies. In consequence of this he was sentenced to be beheaded, and was accord|ingly executed, A. D. 850; after which his body was honourably interred by the christians.

WINCESLAUS, duke of Bohemia, was brought up in the faith of Christ, for his father Wrattislaus, the preceding duke, was a valiant prince, and a good christian; but Drahomira, his mother was a pagan, whose morals were as bad as her sentiments of religion; she consented, however, to entrust her mother, Ludmilla, with the education of her eldest son. That holy woman had resided at Prague ever since the death of Borivor her husband, the first duke of Bohemia, who embraced the faith of Christ; and Winceslaus was sent to that city, to be brought up as she pleased. Ludmilla undertook to form his heart to devotion and the love of God, and was

assisted in that work by Paul her chaplain, a man of great sanctity and prudence, who likewise endea|voured to cultivate his mind with the first rudi|ments of learning. The mind of the young prince corresponded with their endeavours; and the grace of God, who had prepared him for their instruc|tions, made the task very easy. At a convenient age he was sent to a college at Budweis, about sixty miles from Prague, where several young persons of the first rank were placed for their improvement in virtue and learning, and studied under the direction of an excellent master, a native of Neisse, in the duchy of Silesia.

AT the death of Wrattislaus, his son Winceslaus was very young; on which account Drahomira, his mother, declared herself regent during his mi|nority. This princess, not having any one now to controul her, gave a free vent to her rage against christianity; and began her administration with an order for shutting up the churches. She repealed the laws in favour of the christians, and removed all magistrates of that denomination, supplying their places with pagans.

FINDING themselves thus encouraged, the pagans, upon any frivolous pretence, would murder the christians with impunity; and if a christian in his own defence killed a pagan, his life, and that of nine other christians, were to be the forfeit.

THE venerable Ludmilla was sensibly touched at these proceedings, and could not, without affliction, behold a religion trampled on which she professed, and which her consort had established with so much difficulty.

LUDMILLA could not think of any expedient to prevent the total extirpation of christianity in Bo|hemia, but persuading Winceslaus, young as he was, to assume the reins of government. Win|ceslaus at first declined engaging in this task, till maturer years had rendered him better qualified; but upon his grandmother's promising to assist him with her advice, and direct him in his conduct, he complied with her request: and, to prevent all future disputes, divided the country between him|self and his younger brother Bolislaw, whose name a town in, and a considerable district of that coun|try, still retains.

ON this change of affairs Drahomira attached herself to Bolislaw, who, like herself, was a pagan, and followed implicitly her maxims. With respect to the behaviour of Winceslaus after his assuming the sovereignty, and the fate of the aged and wor|thy Ludmilla, the annals of Bohemia furnish us with these particulars: "Winceslaus, pursuant to the impressions of virtue which he had received from his grandmother, and others employed in his education, was more careful than ever to preserve the innocence of his morals, and acquired some new degree of perfection every day. He was as humble, sober, and chaste, when master of his own motions, and in full possession of sovereign authority, as when under the government of those on whom he was taught to look as his superiors. He spent great part of the night in prayer, and the whole day in acts of piety; directing all his views to the esta|blishment of peace, justice, and religion, in his do|minions. He was assisted in these charitable and truly christian labours by able ministers; and no|thing of consequence was done without the advice of Ludmilla. That excellent princess being in|formed that Drahomira, transported with rage at the success of her directions, had formed a design against her life, and that it would hardly be in her power to avoid the blow, was so far from being disturbed at the apprehensions of death, or desist|ing from what had made her odious to that wick|ed woman, that she exerted herself more vigorously than ever for the maintainance of religion, and con|firming the prince in his resolutions. Being now assured that her death was near, and that several persons were actually employed to dispatch her the first convenient opportunity, she called all her ser|vants together, acknowledged their fidelity in her service with a liberal hand, and distributed her goods and money among the poor. Thus divested of all she possessed in the world, she went to her chapel, received the holy eucharist, and then em|ployed herself in prayer, recommended her soul to God, and expected his will with the utmost tran|quillity and resignation. This was her situation, when two ruffians entered the chapel, seized o•• her, and strangled her with her own veil."

THE young duke felt severely for the loss of his grandmother; and the more so, as he did not chuse to punish the offenders, well knowing that they

had been instigated to what they did by his mother. He therefore addressed himself to God only, in|treated the throne of grace for his mother's pardon and conversion, and patiently submitted to the dis|pensations of Providence.

AS many factions were stirred up in his domi|nions by means of his mother and brother, and as Winceslaus himself seemed of an unwarlike disposi|tion, a neighbouring prince determined to invade that part of Bohemia which belonged to him. This was Radislaus, prince of Gurima, who entered Bohemia at the head of a considerable army, and immediately commenced hostilities. Winceslaus hearing of these proceedings, sent a message to the invader, to know what offence he had given him, and what terms he required to quit his dominions, and leave him at his repose.

RADISLAUS mistaking the temper of Winceslaus, looked upon this message to proceed from timidity; he therefore answered in a very haughty manner, made some frivolous excuses for having commenced the quarrel, and concluded, by insisting that Win|ceslaus should surrender to him all his dominions.

THIS unjust and insolent demand obliged Win|ceslaus to appear in arms in defence of himself and his people. He accordingly raised a considerable body of forces, and marched to oppose the enemy. When the two armies were drawn up, and ready to engage, Winceslaus desired a conference with Ra|dislaus, which being complied with, he observed, that as it would be unreasonable and unjust to ha|zard the lives of so many innocent men, the most eligible method of putting an end to the dispute would be by single combat between themselves.

RADISLAUS heard this proposal with pleasure, and accepted it with joy, thinking that he was much more expert in the use of arms than his antagonist. They accordingly engaged in the sight of the two armies, and the victory seemed doubtful for some time, till, at length, it declared in favour of Win|ceslaus; when his antagonist was obliged, accord|ing to previous agreement, to relinquish his pretend|ed claim, and retire into his own country.

BEING thus freed from the fears of a foreign enemy, Winceslaus had leisure to turn his thoughts to domestic reformation. He removed corrupt judges and venal magistrates, and filled their places with persons of integrity: he put an end to oppres|sion in all its branches, and punished such nobles as tyrannized over their vassals. These regula|tions, though they relieved the poor and help|less, gave great offence to the great and rich, as they abridged their power of using those who de|pended on them ill, and, in some degree, took from them that self-importance, and assumed con|sequence, which is the pride of little minds. Hence many became factious, and ripe for mis|chief. The malecontents gave an odious turn to all his best actions; spoke slightingly, and even contemptibly, of his application to prayer, fasting, and other acts of religion, which they endeavoured to insinuate were low employments for a prince, and incompatible with the courage and policy ne|cessary for the government of a state. His mother and brother were still the most inveterate of his ene|mies, who could not bear to see this growing pro|sperity of the patron of religion, and enemy of idolatry; and therefore resolved to take him off at any rate. Drahomira and Bolislaw were concert|ing measures for executing their black design, when they understood that Winceslaus had desired the pope to send some priests into his dominions, with whom he proposed to spend the remainder of his days in a religious retreat. This news suspend|ed the execution of their conspiracy against him for some time; but, perceiving this affair did not come to a conclusion so soon as was necessary for satisfying their ambitious views, they re-assum|ed their criminal practices against him, and gained their ends in the following very black and treache|rous manner:

BOLISLAW having been some time married, his princess proved pregnant, and, at length, brought him forth a son. This circumstance, which should have diffused joy throughout the family, furnished Drahomira and Bolislaw with an idea of the most horrid nature, and the innocent infant was made the object for perpetrating a deed of unexampled cruelty. The scheme concerted between the bi|goted Bolislaw, and his wicked mother, was to get Winceslaus into their power. The birth of the child furnished them with a fair pretence; and a

polite message was dispatched to the unsuspecting duke, to partake of an entertainment given upon the occasion. Winceslaus, not having the least sur|mise of their barbarous intent, repaired to the court of Bolislaw, where he was received with the greatest appearance of cordiality. He partook of the enter|tainment, and wore the face of festivity till it grew rather late at night, when he thought proper to retire before the rest of the company, as he was not fond of late hours, and as he never neglected his devotions to the Almighty, previous to his laying down to sleep.

AS soon as he was withdrawn, Drahomira urged Bolislaw not to trust their revenge to another hand, but to follow his brother instantly, and murder him. The bloody prince took his mother's sanguinary advice, and repairing to his brother's chamber, he found him kneeling, and in fervent prayer to the Almighty; when, unmoved by that pious appear|ance, he rushed upon him, and plunged a dagger to his heart. Thus, in A. D. 929, fell Winceslaus, the third duke of Bohemia, by as infernal an act of treachery as ever was recorded in the annals of any nation.

ADALBERT, bishop of Prague, was a Bohemian by birth. His parents were persons of rank, but more distinguished for their virtues and piety than for their opulence or lineage. They were happy in a son, whose dawning perfections gave them a plea|sing hope, that he would one day become a shining ornament to his family. That he might fulfil their expectations, they gave him a complete edu|cation; but their joy was in some measure damp|ed, by his falling into a dropsy, from which he was with difficulty recovered.

WHEN he was effectually cured, they sent him to Magdaburg, and committed him to the care of the archbishop of that city, who completed his edu|cation, and confirmed him in piety and virtue. The rapid progress which Adalbert made in human and divine learning, made him dear to the prelate, who, to the authority of a teacher, joined all the tender|ness of a parent for his amiable pupil.

HAVING spent nine years at Magdaburg, he re|tired to his own country upon the death of the arch|bishop, and entered himself among the clergy at Prague. Dithmar, bishop of Prague, died soon after the return of Adalbert to that city; and, in his expiring moments, expressed such contrition for having been ambitious, and solicitous of worldly honours and riches, as surprized every one who heard it. Adalbert, who was among the number present, was so sensibly affected at the bishop's dy|ing sentiments, that he received them as an admo|nition to the strict practice of virtue, which he afterwards exercised with the greatest attention, spending his time in prayer, and relieving the poor with a cheerful liberality.

A few days after the decease of Dithmar, an assembly was held for the choice of a successor, which consisted of the clergy of Prague, and the chief quality of Bohemia. Adalbert's character for every virtue that important post required, soon de|termined them to raise him to the vacant see, which they did on the 19th of February, 983. Messen|gers were immediately dispatched to Verona, to desire Otho II. would confirm the election. The emperor granted the request, ordered Adalbert to repair to court for investiture, gave him the ring and crosier, and then sent him to the archbishop of Mentz for consecration. The ceremony was per|formed on the 29th of June the same year; and he was received at Prague with all possible demon|strations of public joy. He divided the revenue of his see into four parts, according to the direction of the canons extant in the fifth century. The first was employed in the fabric, and ornaments of the church; the second went to the maintenance of the clergy; the third was laid out for the relief of the poor; and the fourth reserved for the support of himself and family; which was always made to include twelve indigent persons, to whom he al|lowed daily subsistence.

HE now performed his duty with the utmost as|siduity, and spent a great portion of his time in preaching to and exhorting the people. His con|duct was discreet and humane; and his manner neither too severe nor too indulgent; so that his flock were not terrified into despair, or flattered into presumption. But some things which he could not remedy gave him great uneasiness, particularly the having a plurality of wives, and selling the

christians to the Jews, for trivial offences. Hence he determined to consult the pope, and made a journey to Rome. Accordingly, John, who then sat in the papal chair, received him with great cor|diality, and having heard his grievance, advised him to give up his bishopric, rather than be the witness of enormities which he could not remedy. He determined to take the pope's advice, and to de|vote the remainder of his days to mortification, poverty, and silence; which design he began, by giving all his treasures to the poor. He was, how|ever, before he entirely secluded himself from mankind, desirous of seeing the Holy Land, and set off accordingly, with three persons in his com|pany.

IN their way they arrived at Mount Cassino, where the heads of the monastery of that place re|ceived them in a very friendly manner, and entertained them as well as the rules of their order would admit. Being apprized of the cause of their journey, when they were about to depart, the superior of the monastery addressed himself to Adalbert, and observed to him, that the journey he had undertaken would give him more trouble and uneasiness than he was aware of; that the frequent desire of changing place and travelling, often pro|ceeded more from a restless disposition, and eager curiosity, than real religion, or solid devotion. "Therefore, said he, if you will listen to my ad|vice, leave the world at once with sincerity, and settle in some religious community, without desir|ing to see more than you have already seen." A|dalbert listened attentively, and came readily into the sentiments of the superior, which soon deter|mined him to take up his residence in that monas|tery, where he then thought he might live entirely recluse, and, being unknown, might pass unhonour|ed to the grave. But in the latter particular he was mistaken; for the priests, by accident, coming to a knowledge of the rank and former dignity of their colleague, began to treat him with great de|ference and respect, which occasioned him to leave the place. Nilus, a Grecian, was then at the head of a community not far from Mount Cassino; A|dalbert made his way to him, and begged to be received into his monastery. He assured him he would willingly comply with his request, if he thought the rule and practice of his religious fa|mily would be agreeable to a stranger; besides which, he told him that the house in which he and his people lived was given to them by those of Mount Cassino; and therefore it might not be safe for him to receive one that had left that commu|nity. When Nilus had thus excused himself, he advised him to return to Rome, and apply himself to Leo, an abbot of his acquaintance there, to whom he gave a letter of recommendation. Adalbert went to Rome, where he found Leo, who, before he would admit him, put his virtue and courage to proper trials, by speaking roughly to him, and giving him a terrible account of the labours and severities of the state in which he desired to engage. But, finding his resolution was not moved or weak|ened by the prospect of the most austere mortifica|tions, he conducted him to the pope, and, with the consent of that pontiff and the whole college of car|dinals, gave him the habit on Holy Thursday in the year 990. We have already said, that he had been attended only by three select persons ever since he had the pope's advice for resigning his bishopric; two of them left him now; but the third, who was his own brother Gaudentius, followed his ex|ample, and engaged in the same community. A|dalbert, full of the most profound humility, took a particular pleasure in the lowest employments of the house, and lived here an excellent pattern of christian simplicity and obedience.

THE archbishop of Mentz, as metropolitan, was exceedingly afflicted at the disorders in the church of Prague, and wished for the return of the bishop, with whose retreat he was not▪ for some time, ac|quainted. At length, after five years absence, he heard that Adalbert was at Rome, when he sent a deputation to the pope to press his return to his diocese. The pope summoned a council to consider of the deputation, and after a warm dispute be|tween the monks and the deputies, the latter car|ried their point, and Adalbert was ordered to re|turn to his diocese; but, at the same time, had permission to quit his charge again, if he found his flock as incorrigible as before. The inhabitants of Prague met him, on his arrival, with great joy, and promised obedience to his directions; but they soon forgot their promises, and relapsed into their former

vices, which obliged him, a second time, to leave them, and return to his monastery.

THE archbishop of Mentz sent another deputa|tion to Rome, and desired that his suffragan might be again ordered back to his diocese. Gregory V. who was then pope, commanded him to return to Prague; and he obeyed, though with great re|luctance.

THE Bohemians, however, did not look upon him as before, but deemed him the censor of their faults, and the enemy to their pleasures, and threatened him with death upon his arrival; but not having him yet in their power, contented themselves with falling on his relations, several of whom they mur|dered, plundered their estates, and set fire to their houses. Adalbert had intelligence of these out|rageous proceedings, and could not judge it pru|dent to proceed on his journey. He therefore went to the duke of Poland, who had a particular respect for him, and engaged that prince to sound the Bo|hemians in regard to his return; but could get no better answer from that wretched people, than "that they were sinners, hardened in iniquity: and Adal|bert a saint, and consequently not ••it to live among them; for which reason he was not to hope for a tolerable reception at Prague." The bishop thought this message discharged him from any farther concern for that church, and began to di|rect his thoughts to the conversion of infidels; to which end he repaired to Dantzick, where he con|verted and baptized many, which so enraged the pagan priests, that they fell upon him, and dis|patched him with darts, on the 23d of April, A. D. 997.

An Account of the Persecutions in the Eleventh Century.

ALPHAGE▪ archbishop of Canterbury, was descended from a considerable family in Gloucestershire, and received an education suita|ble to his illustrious birth. His parents were wor|thy christians, and Alphage seemed to inherit all their virtues. He was prudent and humble, pious and chaste: he made a rapid progress both in polite literature and scripture learning, and was, at once, the admired scholar, and devout christian: he strove to make the arts useful to the purposes of life, and to render philosophy subservient to the cause of religion. In order to be more at leisure to con|template the divine perfections, he determined to renounce his fortune, quit home, and become a recluse. He accordingly retired to a monastery of Benedictines, at Deerhurst, in Gloucestershire, and soon after took the habit.

CONSIDERING that the principal business of a christian was to subdue his passions, and mortify his appetites, he lived with the utmost temperance, and spent the greatest part of his time in prayer. But not thinking the austerities he underwent in this mo|nastery sufficiently severe, he retired to a lonely cell near Bath, and lived in a manner still more rigid and mortifying. Here he thought to remain un|known, but some devout persons finding out his retreat, his austere life soon became the subject of conversation in the neighbouring villages, where many flocked to him, and begged to be taken un|der his pastoral care. He yielded to their impor|tunities, raised a monastery near his cell, by the contributions of several well-disposed persons; formed his new pupils into a community, and placed a prior over them. Having prescribed rules for their regulation, he again retired to his beloved cell, fervently wishing to pass the remain|der of his days in religious security; when the following affair once more drew him from his retreat:

THE see of Winchester being vacant by the death of Ethelwold, it was no easy matter to agree upon the choice of a successor to that bishopric. The clergy had been driven out of the cathedral for their scandalous lives, but were admitted again by king Ethelred, upon certain terms of reformation. The monks, who had been introduced upon their expulsion, looked upon themselves as the chapter of that church; and hence arose a violent contest between them, and the clergy who had been re|admitted, about the election of a bishop; while both parties were hot, and vigorously set upon promoting each their own man. This dispute at last ran so high, that Dunstan, archbishop of Can|terbury, as primate of all England, was obliged to

interpose in the affair, who consecrated Alphage to the vacant bishopric, to the general satisfaction of all concerned in the election, or interested in the affair.

ALPHAGE'S behaviour was a sufficient proof of his being equal to the dignity of his vocation. Pi|ety flourished in his diocese; unity was established among his clergy and people; and the church of Winchester recovered its lustre in such a manner, as made the bishop the admiration of the whole kingdom.

DUNSTAN had an extraordinary veneration for Alphage, and when at the point of death, made it his ardent request to God, that he might succeed him in the see of Canterbury; which accordingly happened, though not till about eighteen years af|ter Dunstan's death. In the course of that period the metropolitan church was governed by three suc|cessive prelates; the last of whom was Alfrick; upon whose decease, in 1006, Alphage was raised to the sea of Canterbury.

THE people belonging to the diocese of Win|chester, were the only persons who did not sincere|ly rejoice at his promotion; for they were too sen|sible of the loss they sustained by his translation, not to regret his removal to Canterbury.

SOON after his being made archbishop, he went to Rome, and received the pall from pope John XVIII. and after his return to England, laboured assiduously to introduce the best regulations into the church.

AFTER Alphage had governed the see of Canter|bury about forty years, with great reputation to himself, and benefit to his people, the Danes made an incursion into England. Ethelred, who then reigned, was a prince of a very weak understand|ing, and pusillanimous disposition. Too fearful to face the enemy himself, and too irresolute to furnish others with the means of acting in his stead, he suffered his country to be ravaged with impunity, and the greatest depredations to be committed, at the option of his enemies.

THE archbishop Alphage, upon this trying occa|sion, acted with great resolution and humanity: he went boldly to the Danes, purchased the freedom of several whom they had made captives; found means to send a sufficient quantity of food to others, whom he had not money enough to redeem, and even made converts of some of the Danes: but the latter circumstance made the Danes, who still con|tinued pagans greater enemies to him than they would otherwise have been, and determined them to be revenged on him for occasioning a change in the sentiments of their companions. Edric, an English malecontent, and an infamous traitor, gave the Danes every encouragement, and even assisted them in laying siege to Canterbury. When the de|sign of attacking this city was known, many of the principal people made a precipitate flight from it, and would have persuaded Alphage to follow their example. But he, like a good pastor, would not listen to such a proposal; he assured them he could not think of abandoning his flock, at a time when his presence was more necessary than ever, and was resolved to hazard his life in their defence, at this calamitous juncture. While he was employ|ed in assisting and encouraging his people, Canter|bury was taken by storm; the enemy poured into the town, and destroyed all that came in their way, by fire and sword. The monks did what they could to detain the archbishop in the church, where they hoped he might be safe. But his concern for his flock made him break from them, and run into the midst of the danger. He had the courage to ad|dress the enemy, and offer himself to their swords, as more worthy their rage than the people: he beg|ged they might be saved, and that they would dis|charge their whole fury on him. They accordingly seized him, tied his hands, insulted, and abused him in a rude and barbarous manner; and obliged him to remain on the spot till his church was burnt, and the monks massacred. They then decimated all the inhabitants, both ecclesiastics, and laymen, leaving only every tenth person alive: so that they put 7236 persons to death, and left only four monks, and 800 laymen alive: after which they confined the archbishop in a dungeon, where they kept him close prisoner for several months.

DURING his confinement, they proposed to him to redeem his liberty with the sum of 3000 l. and persuade the king to purchase their departure out

of the kingdom, with a further sum of 10,000 l. Alphage's circumstances would not allow him to sa|tisfy the exorbitant demand: they bound him, and put him to severe torments, to oblige him to disco|ver the treasure of his church; upon which they assured him of his life and liberty. The prelate knew, that what they insisted on was the inheritance of the poor, not to be thrown away upon the barba|rous enemies of the christian religion; and there|fore persisted in refusing to give them any account of it. They remanded him to prison again, con|fined him six days longer, and then taking him with them to Greenwich, brought him to a trial there. He still remained inflexible with respect to the church treasures; but exhorted them to forsake their idolatry, and embrace christianity. This so greatly incensed the Danes, that the soldiers drag|ged him out of the camp, and beat him unmerci|fully. Alphage bore this usage patiently, and even prayed for his persecutors. One of the soldiers, who had been converted and baptized by him, was greatly afflicted, that his pains should be so linger|ing, as he knew his death was determined on: he, therefore, with the fury of a desperate zeal, and a kind of barbarous compassion, cut off his head, and thus put the finishing stroke to his martyrdom, on April 19, A. D. 1012. This transaction hap|pened on the very spot where the church at Green|wich, dedicated to him, now stands. After his death his body was thrown into the Thames, but being found the next day, it was buried in the ca|thedral of St. Paul's, by the bishops of London and Lincoln; from whence it was, in the year 1023, removed to Canterbury by Aethelmoth, the archbishop of that province.

GERARD, a Venetian, devoted himself to the service of God from his tender years; entered into a religious house for some time, and then deter|mined to visit the Holy Land. Going into Hun|gary, he became acquainted with Stephen, the king of that country, who, at once, acted the parts of prince and preacher, and not only regulated his subjects by wholesome laws, but taught them reli|gious duties. Finding Gerard every way qualified to instruct his people, he tried, by every means, to detain him in his kingdom; and, at length, found|ing several churches, he made Gerard bishop of that of Chonad.

GERARD had a very difficult task to perform; the people of his diocese were fond of, and accus|tomed to, idolatry; and their perverseness was equal to their immorality. The new bishop, how|ever, assiduous in his charge, and full of zeal for the salvation of his flock, laboured diligently to bring them to a sense of their duty. He soon had the pleasure to find that his endeavours were not un|successful, for his sweetness of disposition won up|on the people so much, that they could not help believing one whom they loved, or of placing a confidence in the doctrines of a man they had such great reason to reverence.

HIS conquests over idolatry were not confined to his own diocese, but extended to the adjacent coun|try, where his doctrines successfully spread, and many became converts to the pure faith of Christ. Wherever the faith made its way by his ministry, he took care to establish ecclesiastical discipline for the preservation of religion, and made several useful regulations in the public service of the church. His exemplary conduct was at least as instructive as his sermons and exhortations, and went a great way in convincing his converts of the truth and dignity of their new profession: for who could doubt of the excellency of a religion, that raised him above the weaknesses and passions of human nature; and ap|peared divine, by placing him at a distance from all that flatters or delights the senses? He visited his diocese, and was remarkable for a•• uncommon ten|derness for the poor, especially such as had the mis|fortune of sickness, or were incapable of following their accustomed employments.

DURING the life of Stephen, Gerard received every kind of assistance which that excellent mo|narch could afford him; but on the demise of Ste|phen, his nephew Peter, who succeeded him, was of so different a temper, that Gerard was greatly perplexed during his government.

AT length, the tyranny of Peter exasperated his subjects so much against him, that they deposed him, and placed Ouvo on the throne. They, however, soon found, that they had changed from bad to worse; for Ouvo proved a greater monster of cru|elty than his predecessor. At Easter, Ouvo re|paired to Chonad, in order to receive the crown

from the hands of Gerard. When he arrived at the place, the other prelates of the kingdom, who were assembled on that solemn occasion, assured the prince of their affections for his person, and promi|sed to concur in his coronation; but Gerard abso|lutely refused to pay that compliment to a public and malicious enemy; and took the liberty of let|ting the intruder know, that he could not look on Peter's exclusion as regular, and consequently should not proceed to do any thing to the prejudice of his title: he then told him, that if he persisted in his usurpation, the Divine Providence would soon put an end to his life and reign. Ouvo, grow|ing more insupportable than his predecessor, was brought to the scaffold in the year 1044; upon which Peter was recalled, and placed on the throne a second time; but his disposition and retirement had made no alteration in his temper, so that he was again deprived of the royal dignity after two years possession.

ANDREW, son of Ladislaus, cousin-german to Stephen, had then a tender of the crown made him, upon condition that he would employ his au|thority in extirpating the christian religion out of Hungary. The ambitious prince came into the proposal, and promised to do his utmost in re-estab|lishing the idolatrous worship of his deluded an|cestors. Gerard, being informed of this impious bargain, thought his duty obliged him to remon|strate against the enormity of Andrew's crime, and persuade him to withdraw his promise. In this view he undertook to go to that prince, attended by three other prelates, full of a like zeal for re|ligion. The new king was at Alba Regalis, but as the four bishops were going to cross the Danube, they were stopped by a party of soldiers posted there by order of a man of quality in the neighbour|hood, remarkable for his aversion to the christian religion, and to Stephen's memory. They bore an attack with a shower of stones patiently, when the soldiers proceeding to greater outrages, beat them unmercifully, and at length dispatched them with lances. Their martyrdoms happened in the year 1045.

STANISLAUS, bishop of Cracow, was descended from an illustrious Polish family. The piety of his parents was equal to their opulence, and the latter they rendered subservient to all the purposes of charity and benevolence. Stanislaus was their only child, and consequently the sole object of their parental affection. When he was of a proper age, they employed masters in several branches of learn|ing to instruct him, and were happy to find, that his rapid improvement fully answered their most sanguine expectations. He had a penetrating ge|nius, retentive memory, and solid understanding; hence study became his amusement, learning hi•• delight, and books his beloved companions. Nor was his disposition inferior to his abilities; he was modest, mild, candid and grave, temperate in his meals, and moderate in his sleep; he voluntarily gave himself, in the dawn of youth, to such auste|rities, as might have given reputation to a professed hermit. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 pursued his studies at home for some years, he was sent to a seminary of learning in Poland, and afterwards to the university of Paris, that his education might be completed in that cele|brated 〈…〉〈…〉 literature. After continuing seven years at Paris, he returned to his own country, and on the demise of his parents, became possessed of a plentiful fortune. Sensible that riches constituted no part of s christian's happiness, any farther than as they enabled him to assist the needy; he devoted most of his property to charitable uses, retaining only a small portion for his own sustenance.

HIS views were now solely directed to the minis|try; but he remained for some time undetermined, whether he should embrace a monastic life, or en|gage among the secular clergy. He was at length pesuaded to the latter by Lambert Zula, bishop of Cracow, who gave him holy orders, and made him a canon of his cathedral. In this capacity he lived in a most pious and exemplary manner, and per|formed the duties of his function with unremitting assiduity and fervent devotion. Lambert could not help being charmed with the many virtues which so particularly distinguished Stanislaus, and would fain have resigned his bishopric to him. The reason he alledged for such resignation was his great age, but Stanislaus absolutely refused to accept of the see, for the contrary reason, viz. his want of years, for being then only thirty-six years old, he deemed that too early a time of life for a man to undertake the important care of a diocese. Lambert, however, made him his substitute upon various occasions, by

which he became thoroughly acquainted with all that related to the bishopric. Lambert died on November 25, A. D. 1071, when all concern|ed in the choice of a successor declared for Stani|slaus. But his former objection remained, and on account of his age, he declined the acceptance of the prelacy.

DETERMINED however to conquer his scruples, the king, clergy, and nobility unanimously joined in writing to pope Alexander II. who at their in|treaty sent an express order that Stanislaus should accept the bishopric. Thus commanded, he obey|ed, and exerted himself to the utmost in the im|provement of his flock. He was equally careful with respect both to clergy and laity; and exhorted the former to shew a good example 〈◊〉〈◊〉 much as he did the latter to imitate it. He kept a list of all the poor in his diocese, and by feeding the hungry, cloathing the naked, and administering remedies to the sick, he proved himself not only the godly pastor, but the bodily physician, and generous be|nefactor.

BOLISLAUS, the second king of Poland, had, by nature, many good qualities, but giving way too much to his passions, he ran into many enormities. He daily grew worse and worse, and from being deemed a good king, at length had the appellation of CRUEL bestowed on him. The nobility were shocked at his conduct, but did not care to speak to him concerning it, and the clergy saw his pro|ceedings with grief, but were afraid to reprehend him. Stanislaus alone had the courage to tell him of his faults, when taking a private opportunity he freely displayed to him the enormity of his crimes.

THE king was greatly exasperated at this free|dom, but, awed by the virtues of the bishop, dis|sembled his resentment, and appearing to be con|vinced of his errors, promised to reform his con|duct. So far however from designing to perform his promise, he complained to some of his cyco|phants of the freedom that Stanislaus had taken with him; and they, to fl••tter his folly, condemn|ed the boldness of the bishop. The king, soon after, attempted the chastity of a married lady, who rejected his offers with disdain; which piqued his pride so much, that he seized her by force, and violated her by compulsion. This greatly alarm|ed all the nobility: none knew how long his own wife, daughter, or sister might be safe; and each dreaded for the peace of his family. They, at length, assembled together, and calling the clergy to their assistance, intreated Peter, archbishop of Gresne, to remonstrate to the king on the impro|priety and viciousness of his conduct; adding, that it was more particularly his business so to do, as primate of Poland.

THE archbishop, however, declined the danger|ous task for though a man of some virtue, he was of a disposition uncommonly timid. Several other prelates sheltered themselves behind his refusal, and gave their fear the name of modesty, which would not permit them to undertake what their metropoli|tan had thought too great for his abilities. Stani|slaus alone was, as before, the only one who had courage, and zeal sufficient, to perform what he looked upon as a most important and indispensable duty. He, therefore, put himself at the head of a select number of ecclesiastics, noblemen, and gentlemen; and, proceeding to court, addressed the king in a solemn and serious manner, and fully represented the heinousness of his crimes, and what would be the fatal consequences of his 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪

THE king had scarce patience to hear him out; and, as soon as he had done speaking▪ flew into a violent passion, at once complaining of the wa•••• of respect to his royal dignity, and vowing revenge for what he called an insult to his person. Stani|slaus, however, not in the least intimidated by his menaces, visited him twice more, and remonstrated with him in a similar manner, which so much ex|asperated the king, that he knew not how to con|tain himself.

THE nobility and clergy, finding that the admo|nitions of the bishop had not the desired effect upon the king▪ thought proper to interpose between them. The nobility intreated the bishop to refrain from any more exasperating a monarch of so fero|cious and untractable a temper; and the clergy endeavoured to persuade the king not to be offend|ed with Stanislaus for his charitable remonstrances.

Neither, however, succeeded, for the king remain|ed as obstinate, and the bishop as zealous, as ever. The haughty sovereign, at length, determined, at any rate, to get rid of a prelate, who, in his opi|nion, was so extremely troublesome. Hearing one day that the bishop was by himself, in the chapel of St. Michael, at a small distance from the town, he dispatched some soldiers to murder him. The soldiers readily undertook the bloody task; but when they came into the presence of Stanislaus, the venerable aspect of the prelate struck them with such awe, that they could not perform what they had promised. On their return, the king, finding they had not obeyed his orders, stormed at them violently, snatched a dagger from one of them, and ran furiously to the chapel, where, finding Sta|nislaus at the altar, he plunged the weapon to his heart. The prelate immediately expired, on the 8th of May, A. D. 1079, receiving a crown of martyrdom, as a reward for his zeal.

An Account of the PERSECUTIONS of the WALDENSES, in FRANCE.

POPERY having brought various innovations into the church, and overspread the christian world with darkness and superstition, some few, who plainly perceived the pernicious tendency of such errors, determined to shew the light of the gospel in its real purity, and to disperse those clouds which artful priests had raised about it, in order to blind the people, and obscure its real brightness.

THE principal among these was Berengarius, who, about the year 1000, boldly preached gospel truths, according to their primitive purity. Many, from conviction, assented to his doctrine, and were, on that account, called Berengarians. To Beren|garius succeeded Peter Bruis, who preached at Thoulouse, under the protection of an earl, na|med Hildephonsus; and the whole tenets of the reformers, with the reasons of their separation from the church of Rome, were published in a book written by Bruis, under the title of ANTICHRIST.

BY the year of Christ, 1140, the number of the reformed was very great, and the probability of its increasing alarmed the Pope, who wrote to seve|ral princes to banish them their dominions, and employed many learned men to write against their doctrines.

A. D. 1147, Henry, of Thoulouse, being deemed their most eminent preacher, they were called Henericians; and as they would not admit of any proofs relative to religion, but what could be deduced from the scriptures themselves, the po|pish party gave them the name of Apostolics. At length, Peter Waldo, or Valdo, a native of Lyons, became a strenuous opposer of popery; and from him the reformed, at that time, received the appel|lation of Waldenses, or Waldoys.

PETER Waldo was a man eminent for his learn|ing, piety, and benevolence; so that his doctrines were admired by great numbers, and he was fol|lowed by multitudes. The bishop of Lyons ta|king umbrage at the freedom with which he treat|ed the Pope and the Romish clergy, sent to admo|nish him to refrain, in future, from such discourses. To which message Waldo returned this reply:— "That he could not be silent in a cause of such im|portance as the salvation of men's souls; wherein he must obey God rather than man."

WALDO'S principal accusations against the Pope and popery, were, that the Roman catholics affirm the church of Rome to be the only infallible church of Christ upon earth; and that the Pope is its head, and the vicar of Christ; that they hold the absurd doctrine of transubstantiation, insisting, that the bread and wine given in the sacrament, is the very identical body and blood of Christ which was nail|ed to the cross: that they believe there is a place called purgatory, where the souls of persons, after this life, are purged from the sins of mortality; and that the pains and penalties here inflicted may be abated according to the masses said by, and the money paid to the priests: that they teach, the communion of one kind, or the receiving the wa|ter only, is sufficient for the lay-people, though the clergy must be indulged with both bread and

wine: that they pray to the Virgin Mary and saints, though their prayers ought to be immediately to God: that they pray for souls departed, though God decides the fate immediately on the decease of the person: that they will not perform the service of the church in a language understood by the people in general: that they place their devotion in the number of prayers, and not in the intent of the heart: that they forbid marriage to the clergy, though God allowed it; and that they use many things in baptism, though Christ used only water.

POPE Alexander the Third being informed of these transactions, excommunicated Waldo and his adherents, and commanded the bishop of Lyons to exterminate them, if possible, from the face of the earth; and hence began the papal persecutions against the Waldenses.

BEFORE we describe the sufferings and martyrdom of the Waldenses, it is necessary to shew their tenets, which will explain how, and for what reason, they differed from the church of Rome:

1. THAT holy oil is not to be mingled in baptism.

2. THAT prayers used over things inanimate, are superstitious.

3. FLESH may be eaten in Lent; the clergy may marry; and auricular confession is unnecessary.

4. CONFIRMATION is no sacrament; we are not bound to pay obedience to the Pope; ministers should live upon tithes; no dignity sets one clergy|man above another, for their superiority can only be drawn from real worth.

5. IMAGES in churches are absurd; image-wor|ship is idolatry; the Pope's indulgencies ridicu+lous; and the miracles pretended to be done by the church of Rome are false.

6. FORNICATION and public stews ought not to be allowed; purgatory is a fiction; and deceased persons, called saints, ought not to be prayed to.

7. EXTREME unction is not a sacrament; and masses, indulgencies, and prayers are of no service to the dead.

8. The Lord's prayer ought to be the rule of all other prayers.

WALDO himself remained three years undiscover|ed in Lyons, though the utmost diligence was used to apprehend him. Being, however, greatly be|loved, he was not betrayed; but at length found an opportunity of escaping from the place of his concealment to the mountains of Dauphiny. Wal|do soon after found means to propagate his doc|trines in Dauphiny and Picardy, which so exaspe|rated Philip, king of France, that he put the latter province, as the most obnoxious of the two, under military execution; destroying above 300 gentl••|men's seats, erasing some walled towns, burning many of the reformed, and driving others into Flanders and Germany.

NOTWITHSTANDING these persecutions, the re|formed religion seemed to flourish; and the Wal|denses, in various parts, became more numerous than ever. Hence the pope accused them of he|resy, and the monks with immorality; the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 asserting that they had fallen into many errors, and the latter that they committed many bad practices. These slanders they, however, refuted in a modest publication, which at once defended the purity of their doctrines, and the piety of their lives.

THE pope, incensed at their increase, used all manner of arts for their extirpation; such as ex|communications, anathemas, canons, constitutions, decrees, &c. by which they were rendered incapa|ble of holding places of trust, honour, or pro••••t▪ their lands were seized, their goods confiscated, and they were not permitted to be buried in consecrat•••• ground.

SOME of the Waldenses having taken refuge i•• Spain, Aldephonsus, king of Arragon, at the in|stigation of the pope, published an edict, strictly ordering all Roman catholics to persecute th•••• wherever they could be found; and decreeing th•••• all who gave them the least assistance should be deemed traitors, and punished accordingly.

THE year after this edict Aldephonsus was se|verely punished by the hand of Providence; for his son was defeated in a great battle, and 50,000 of his men slain, by which a considerable portion of his kingdom fell into the hands of the Moors.

NOTWITHSTANDING all the cruelties of the pa|pists, the reformed ministers preached boldly against the Romish church; and Peter Waldo, in particu|lar, wherever he went, asserted,

• 1. THAT the pope was antichrist.
• 2. MASS was an abomination.
• 3. THE host was an idol.
• 4. PURGATORY was a fable.

THESE proceedings of Waldo, and the reformed, occasioned the first rise of Inquisitors; for pope In|nocent III. authorized certain monks inquisitors to inquire for, and deliver over, the reformed to the se••ular power. The monks greatly abused this authority; for, upon the least surmise or informa|tion, they delivered over the reformed to the ma|gistrate, and the magistrate delivered them to the executioner; for the process was short, as an accusa|tion was deemed adequate to guilt, and a candid trial was never granted to the accused.

THE pope finding that these cruel means had not the intended effect, determined to try others of a more rational and mild nature. To this end he sent several learned monks to preach among the Waldenses, and to endeavour to argue them out of their opinions. Among these monks was one Dominic, who appeared extremely zealous in the cause of popery. This Dominic instituted an or|der, which, from him, was called the order of Do|minican friars; and the members of this order have ever since been the principal inquisitors in the va|rious inquisitions in the world. The power of the inquisitors was unlimited; they proceeded against whom they pleased without any consideration of age, sex, or rank. Let the accusers be ever so in|famous, the accusation was deemed valid; and even anonymous informations sent by letter were thought sufficient evidence. To be rich was a crime equal to heresy; therefore many who had money were accused of heresy, or of being favourers of heretics, that they might be obliged to pay for their opi|nions. The dearest friends or nearest kindred could not, without danger, serve any one who was imprisoned on account of religion. To convey to those who were confined, a little straw, or give them a cup of water, was called favouring of the heretics, and they were prosecuted accordingly. No lawyer dared to plead even for his own brother, or notary register any thing in favour of the re|formed; the malice of the papists, indeed, went beyond the grave, and the bones of many Walden|ses, who had been long dead, were dug up in or|der to be burnt, as examples to the living. If a man on his death-bed was accused of being a fol|lower of Waldo, his estates were confiscated, and the heir to them defrauded of his inheritance; and some were even obliged to make pilgrimages to the Holy Land, while the Dominicans took possession of their houses and property, and when the owners returned would often pretend not to know them.

ENRAUDUS, a knight, being accused of embracing the opinions of Waldo, was delivered to the secular power, and burnt at Paris, A. D. 1201. About the year 1228 such numbers of the reformed were apprehended, that the archbishops of Aix, Arles, and Narbonne, took compassion on them, and thus expressed themselves to the inquisitors: "We hear that you have apprehended such a multitude of the Waldenses, that it is not only impossible to defray the charge of their food and confinement, but to provide lime and stone to build prisons for them."

IN the year 1380, a monk inquisitor, named Fran|cis Boralli, had a commission granted him by pope Clement the seventh, to search for and punish the Waldenses in Aix, Ambrune, Geneva, Savoy, Orange, Arles, Vien••e, Ambone, Venice, and Avignon.

BORALLI opened his commission at Ambrune, and summoned all the inhabitants to appear before him. Those who appeared, and were found to be of the reformed religion, were immediately deli|vered over to the secular power, and burnt; and those who did not appear were excommunicated for contumacy, and had their effects confiscated. In

th•• distribution of the effects, however, they pro|vided well for the sons of the church; for the clergy had two-thirds of every man's property who was condemned, and the secular power only one-third. All the reformed inhabitants of the other places, named in the commission of this ecclesiastic, were equal sufferers; for devastations marked his journey, and his footsteps might be traced in blood.

IN the year 1400, the Waldenses, who resided in the valley of Pragela, were at the instigation of some priests, suddenly attacked by a body of troops, who plundered their houses, murdered many, and drove others into the Alps, where great num|bers were frozen to death, it being in the depth of winter.

A. D. 1460, a persecution was carried on in Dauphiny against the Waldenses, by the archbishop of Ambrune, who employed a monk, named John Vayleti; and this monk proceeded with such vio|lence, that not only the Waldenses but even many papists were sufferers. For if any papists expressed compassion or pity for the inoffensive people, who were so cruelly treated, they were sure to be accu|sed of favouring the Waldenses, and to be punish|ed for commiserating the miseries of their fellow-creatures. At length Vayleti's proceedings became so intolerable, that a great number of the papists themselves wrote a petition against him to ••ewis the Eleventh, king of France. The monarch, on receiving this petition, granted the request of the petitioners, and sent and express order to the go|vernor of Dauphiny to stop the persecution.

VAVLETI, however, by the order of the arch|bishop, still continued the persecution; for taking advantage of the last clause of the ••dict, he pre|tended, he did nothing contrary to the king's precept, who had ordered punishment for such as affirmed any thing against the holy catholic faith. This persecution at length concl••ded with the death of the archbishop, which happened A. D. 1487.

POPE Innocent the eighth, A. D. 1488, deter|mined to persecute the Waldenses. To this end he sent one Albert de Capitaneis, archdeacon of Cre|mona, to France. When Albert arrived in Dau|phiny, he craved the assistance of the king's lieu|tenant to extermi••••te the Waldenses from the val|ley of Loyse. The lieutenant very readily granted his assistance, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 marched a body of troops to the place. When they arrived at the valley, they found that it had been deserted by the inhabitants, who had retired to the mountains, and hid them|selves in caves, caverns, &c. The archdeacon and lieutenant immediately followed them with the troops, and catching many, they cast them head|long from precipices, by which they were dashed to pieces. Several, however, retired to the farther parts of the caverns, and knowing the intricacies better than the troops, they were able to conceal themselves. The archdeacon and lieutenant, not being able to come at them, ordered the mouths of the caves to be filled with faggots, which being lighted, those within were suffocated. On the cave's being afterwards searched, 400 infants were found smothered, either in their cradles or their mother's arms; and, upon the whole, about 3000 men, women, and children, were destroyed in this persecution.

HAVING completed this tragical work▪ the lieu|tenant and archdeacon proceeded with the troops to Pragelo and Frassaniere, in order to persecute the Waldenses in those parts. But these having heard of the fate of their brethren in the valley of Loy••e thought proper to arm themselves; and, by forti|fying the different passes, and bravely disputing the passages through them, they so harrassed the troops▪ that the lieutenant was compelled to retire witho•••• effecting his purpose.

IN 1594, Anthony Fabri, and Christopher de S••|lience, having a commission to persecute the Wal|denses of Dauphiny, put some to death, sequestered the estates of others, and confiscated the goods an•• chattels of many; but Lewis the Twelfth coming to the crown in 1598, on the decease of his pr••de|cessor, the Waldenses petitioned him for a restitu|tion of their property. The king determined to have the affair impartially canvassed, and to thi•• end sent a commissioner of his own, together with a commissary from the pope, to make the proper inquiries. The witnesses against the Waldenses ha|ving been examined, the innocence of those 〈◊〉〈◊〉

pe••ple evidently appeared, and the king's commis|••••••er in particular declared, "That he only de|sired to be as good a christian as the worst of them." When this favourable report was made to the king, he immediately gave orders that the Waldenses should have their property restored to them. The archbishop of Ambrune, having the greatest quan|tity of these poor people's goods, it was generally imagined that he would set a laudable example to others, by being the first to restore them. The archbishop, however, to the surprize of the people in general, and to the affliction of the Waldenses in particular, declared, that he would not restore any of the property alluded to, for they were incorpo|rated with, and became part of his archbishopric itself. He, however, with an affectation of some small degree of candour, offered to relinquish seve|ral vineyards, of which he had dispossessed the Waldenses, provided, at the same time, the lords of Dauphiny would restore all they had taken from those poor people. This the lords absolutely re|fused, for they were as fond of keeping their ill|got plunder as the archbishop himself.

THE Waldenses finding, by these mean subter|fuges, and unjust proceedings, that they were not likely to recover any of their property, without something farther being done, again appealed to the king. The monarch having attended to their com|plaints, wrote to the archbishop; but that artful and avaricious prelate replied, "That at the com|mencement of the persecution the Waldenses had been excommunicated by the pope, in consequence of which their goods were distrained; therefore, till the sentence of excommunication was taken off, which had occasioned them to be seized, they could not be restored with propriety, or consistent with the respect due to the pontiff." This plea was allowed to be reasonable; and application was in|effectually made to the pope to remove the sentence of excommunication; for the archbishop, supposing this would be the case, had used all his interest at the court of Rome, to prevent such application from succeeding. Thus were, the poor Waldenses robbed of their property, only because they would not sacrifice their consciences to the will of their in|human persecutors.

THE Waldenses having spread from Dauphiny into several other provinces, became very numerous in Provence. At their first arrival Provence was almost a desert, but by their great industry it soon abounded with corn, wine, oil, fruit, &c.

THE pope, by being often near them at his seat at Avignon, heard occasionally many things con|cerning their differing from the church of Rome. His intelligence greatly exasperated him, and he determined to have them persecuted on account of their religious tenets. Proceeding to some extre|mities, under the sanction of his ecclesiastical au|thority, only without consulting the king of France, the latter became alarmed, and sent his master of requests, and his confessor, to examine into the af|fair. On their return, they reported that the Wal|denses were not such dangerous or bad people as they had been represented; that they lived with perfect honesty, were friendly to all, hurt none, caused their children to be baptized, had them taught the Lord's prayer, creed, and ten com|mandments; expounded the scriptures with purity, kept the Lord's day sacred, feared God, honoured the king, and wished well to the state. Then, said the king, they are much better christians than my|self or my catholic subjects, and therefore they shall not be persecuted: the king was as good as his word, and sent orders to stop the persecution accordingly.

SOME time after, the inhabitants of Merindol re|ceived a summons, that the heads of the families of that town should appear before the ecclesiastical court. When they appeared, and confessed them|selves Waldenses, they were ordered to be burnt, their families outlawed, their habitations laid waste, and the woods that surrounded the town to be cut down, two hundred paces each way; so that the whole should be rendered desolate. The king, however, being informed of this barbarous decree, sent to countermand the execution of it; but his order was suppressed by cardinal Tournon, and the greatest cruelties were consequently exercised.

THE president of Opede sent several companies of soldiers to burn some villages that were occupied by protestants, which they performed; and, with|out the least respect to sex or 〈◊〉〈◊〉 murdered the men immediately, ravished the 〈…〉〈…〉, cut off the

breasts of mothers, and then suffered the infants to famish, &c. &c. The president likewise proclaim|ed, that none should give any manner of assistance, or sustenance, to the Waldenses.

GOING to another small town, the president found there only a boy, who had surrended himself to a soldier, for the other inhabitants had deserted the place. They boy he ordered to be shot by the sol|dier to whom he had surrendered, and then destroy|ed every house in the place.

AFTER this the president marched against Ca|brieres, and began to cannonade it. At this time there were not above sixty poor peasants, with their families, in the town; and they sent him word, that he need not expend powder and shot upon the place, as they were willing to open the gates, and surrender, provided they might be permitted to re|tire, with their families, to Geneva, or Germany. This was promised them; but the gates were no sooner opened, than the president ordered all the men to be cut to pieces; which cruel command was executed with the utmost barbarity. Several women and children were crammed into a large barn, which was set fire to, and every one perished in the flames. Other women and children having taken refuge in a church, the president ordered one of his officers to go in and kill them all: the cap|tain, at first, refused, saying, "Such unnecessary cruelty is unbecoming a military man." The pre|sident, being displeased at this reply, said, "I charge you, on pain of being accused of mutiny, immediately to obey my orders:" when the cap|tain, afraid of the consequences of such a reply, thought proper to comply, and make a sacrifice of humanity to the fear of military punishment.

THE president then sent a detachment of his troops to ravage the town of Costa, which design was accomplished with the greatest barbarity, and cruelties were exercised, shocking both to modesty and nature.

AT length, the judgment of God overtook this monster of cruelty, the president; for he was, at once, afflicted with a dreadful bloody flux, and a painful stranguary. In this extremity he sent for a 〈…〉〈…〉 from Arles, who, on examining his disorders, told him they were of a singular nature, and much worse than he had ever seen them on any other per|son. He then took an occasion to reprehend him for his cruelties, and told him, that unless he re|pented, he might expect that the hand of heaven would fall still heavier upon him. On hearing these words, the president flew into a violent pas|sion, and ordered his attendants to seize upon the surgeon as an heretic.

THE surgeon was seized, but found means to escape, and soon after the president's disorder in|creased to a most terrible degree. As he before found some little ease from the surgeon, he again sent to him, for he had been informed of the place of his retirement▪ His message was accompanied with an apology for his former behaviour, and a promise of personal security. The surgeon for|giving what was past, went to him, but too late to be of any service; for he found the president ra|ving like a madman, and crying out, that he had a fire within him. After storming and blaspheming for some time, he expired in the most dreadful agonies; and his body, in a few hours, became so offensive, that hardly any one could endure the stench.

JOHN de Roma, a monk, having a commission from the pope to search for heretics, he executed i•• with great severity in Provence. The king of France hearing of his proceedings, sent an order t•• the parliament of Provence to apprehend him; but the monk made his escape to Avignon, and thought to live luxuriously upon what he had plundere•• from the Waldenses. But in this he was mistaken for some robbers soon after plundered him of th•• greatest part of his ill-got wealth; and his grief o•• this account brought on a violent disorder, which by turning him, even while living, into a mere m•••• of putrefection, soon put a period to his existence.

THE bishop of Aix, with some priests, being 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Avignon together, were one day walking along th•• streets with some courtezans. Seeing a man w•••• sold obscene pictures, they purchased several, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 presented them to the women. Close by was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 bookseller, who had a great number of bibles in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 French language for sale. The bishop stepping 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to him, said, "How darest thou be so bold as to 〈◊〉〈◊〉

[figure]

A BOOKSELLER Burnt at AVIGNON in FRANCE for selling Bibles in the French Tongue with ••ine of them ••edro••••d his Neck. 〈…〉〈…〉

French merchandize in this town?" The book|seller replied, with a kind of sneer, "My lord, do you not think that bibles are as good as those pic|tures which you have bought for the ladies?" En|raged at the sarcasm, the bishop exclaimed, "I'll renounce my place in paradise if this fellow is not one of the Waldenses. Take him away, take him away, take him away to prison." These expres|sions occasioned him to be terribly used by the rabble; and the next day he was brought before the judge, who, at the instigation of the bishop, condemned him to the flames. He was according|ly burnt, with two bibles hanging from his neck, the one before and the other behind.

An Account of the Persecutions of the Al|bigenses.

THE Albigenses were people of the reformed religion, who inhabited the country of Albi. They were condemned on the score of religion, in the council of Lateran, by order of pope Alexander the Third. Nevertheless they increased so prodi|giously, that many cities were inhabited by persons only of their persuasion, and several eminent noble|men embraced their doctrines. Among the latter were Raymond, earl of Thoulouse, Raymond, earl of Foix, the earl of Beziers, &c. The pope, at length, pretended that he wished to draw them to the Romish faith by sound argument and clear rea|soning, and for this end ordered a general dispu|tation, in which, however, the popish doctors were entirely overcome by the arguments of Arnold, a reformed clergyman, whose reasons were so strong, that they were compelled to confess their force.

A friar, named Peter, having been murdered in the dominions of the earl of Thoulouse, the pope made the murder a pretence to persecute that no|bleman and his subjects. To effect this, he sent persons throughout all Europe, in order to raise forces to act coercively against the Albigenses, and promised paradise to all that would come to this war, which he termed a Holy War, and bear arms for forty days. The same indulgences were like|wise h••ld out to all who entered themselves for this purpose, as to such as engaged in crusades to the Holy Land.

THE pope then sent orders to all archbishops, bishops, &c. to excommunicate the earl of Thou|louse every sabbath and festival; at the same time absolving all his subjects from their oaths of alle|giance to him, and commanding them to pursue his person, possess his lands, destroy his property, murder such of his subjects as continued faithful to him, &c. &c.

THE earl of Thoulouse hearing of these mighty preparations against him, wrote to the pope in a very candid manner, desiring not to be condemned unheard, and assuring him, that he had not the least hand in Peter's death; for that friar was killed by a gentleman, who immediately after the murder fled out of his territories, or otherwise he would have punished him as the crime deserved.

BUT arguments were in vain: for the pope, be|ing determined on his destruction, was resolved not to hear reason. A formidable army, with several noblemen and prelates at the head of it, began their march against the Albigenses. The earl had only the alternative, to oppose force by force, or submit. As he despaired of success in attempting the for|mer, he determined on the latter. The pope's legate being at Valence, the earl repaired thither, and said, "He was surprized that such a number of armed men should be sent against him, before the least proof of his guilt had been deduced. He therefore came voluntarily to surrender himself, armed only with the testimony of a good conscience, and hoped that the troops would be prevented from plundering his innocent subjects, as he thought himself a sufficient pledge for any vengeance they chose to take on account of the death of the friar."

TO this reasonable proposal the legate replied, that he was very glad the earl had voluntarily sur|rendered; but, with respect to the proposal he could not pretend to countermand the orders to the troops, unless he would consent to deliver up seven of his best fortified castles, as securities for his future behaviour.

THIS demand made the earl perceive his error in submitting, but it was too late; he knew himself to be a prisoner, and therefore sent an order for the delivery of the castles. The pope's legate had no sooner garrisoned these places, than he ordered the respective governors to appear before him. When they came, he said, "That the earl of Thoulouse having delivered up his castles to the pope, they must consider that they were now the pope's sub|jects, and not the earl's; and that they must there|fore act conformable to their new allegiance."

THE governors were greatly astonished to see their lord thus in chains, and themselves compelled into a new allegiance, so much against their inclina|tions and consciences. But what afflicted them still more was the affronts afterwards put upon the earl; for he was stripped naked, except his drawers, led nine times round the grave of friar Peter, and se|verely scourged before all orders of people. Not contented with this, they obliged him to swear that he would be obedient to the pope during the re|mainder of his life, conform to the church of Rome, and make irreconcileable war against the Albigenses. The legate even went farther than this, and ordered him, by the oaths he had newly taken, to join the troops, and inspect the siege of Beziers. But thinking this too hard an injunction, he took an opportunity privately to quit the army, and deter|mined to go to the pope, and relate all the ill usage he had received. The army, however, proceeded to besiege Beziers; and the earl of Beziers, who was likewise governor of that city, thinking it im|possible to defend the place, came out, and pre|senting himself before the pope's legate, implored mercy for the inhabitants; intimating at the same time, that there were as many Roman catholics as Albigenses in the city. The legate replied, that all excuses availed nothing; that the place must be delivered up at discretion, or the most dreadful con|sequences should ensue.

THE earl of Beziers returning into the city, told the inhabitants he could obtain no mercy, unless the Albigenses would abjure their religion, and conform to the worship of the church of Rome. The Roman catholics pressed the Albigenses to comply with this request; but the Albigenses no|bly answered, that they would not forsake their re|ligion for the base price of their ••••ail life: that God was able, if he pleased, to defend them; but if 〈◊〉〈◊〉 would be glorified by the confession of their faith, it would be a great honour for them to die for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sake. That they had rather displease the pope, who could but kill their bodies, than God, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 could cast both body and soul into hell.

THE popish parties finding their importun•••••••••• ineffectual, sent their bishop to the pope's 〈◊〉〈◊〉, beseeching him not to include them in the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of the Albigenses; and representing, that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 best means to win the latter over to the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 catholic persuasion was by gentle means, and not 〈◊〉〈◊〉 rigour. The legate, upon hearing this, flew 〈◊〉〈◊〉 violent passion with the bishop, and declared, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 "If all the city did not acknowledge their 〈◊〉〈◊〉, they should taste of one curse without distinction 〈◊〉〈◊〉 religion, sex, or age."

THE inhabitants refusing to yield upon 〈◊〉〈◊〉 terms, a general assault was given, and the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 taken by storm; when it is impossible for the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to paint a more horrid scene than 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ensued. Every cruelty that barbarous 〈◊〉〈◊〉 could devise was practised; nothing was to be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 but the groans of men who lay weltering in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 blood; the lamentations of mothers who 〈◊〉〈◊〉 doubly wounded, wounded in the body by 〈◊〉〈◊〉 spears of the soldiers, and to the soul, by havi•••• their children taken from them, and dashed 〈◊〉〈◊〉 pieces before their faces. The plaints of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 maidens and ravished matrons, the cries of helples•• infants, and the execrations of the barbarians who committed these cruelties, added to the sounds of horror. The city being fired in various parts, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 scenes of confusion arose; in several places 〈◊〉〈◊〉 streets were streaming with blood; here 〈◊〉〈◊〉 buildings appeared in clouds of smoke, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 large ranges of houses were seen in flames. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 who hid themselves in the recesses of their 〈◊〉〈◊〉, had only the dreadful alternative to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and perish in the flames, or rush out and fall by 〈◊〉〈◊〉 swords of the soldiers. The bloody legate, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 these infernal proceedings, seemed to enjoy the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and even cried out to the troops, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 them, kill them all, kill man, woman, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 kill Roman catholics as well as Albigenses, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 when they are dead the Lord knows how to 〈◊〉〈◊〉

out his own." Thus the beautiful city of Beziers was reduced to a heap of ruins; and 60,000 per|sons of different ages, and both sexes, were mur|dered upon the occasion.

THE earl of Beziers and a few others made their escape, and went to Carcasson, which they put into the best posture of defence they could. The legate, not to lose an opportunity of spilling blood during the forty days which the troops were to serve, led them immediately against Carcasson•• As soon as the place was invested, a furious assault was given, but the besiegers were repulsed with 〈◊〉〈◊〉 slaugh|ter; and upon this occasion the earl of Beziers gave the most distinguished proofs of his courage, say|ing, to encourage the besieged, "We had better die fighting than fall into the hands of such bigot|ed and bloody enemies."

IT is to be observed, that two miles from the city of Carcasson there was a small town of the same name, which the Albigenses had likewise fortified. The legate, being enraged at the repulse he had received from the city of Carcasson, determined to wreak his vengeance upon the town. The next morning he made a general assault; and, though the place was bravely defended, the legate took it by storm, put all within it to the sword, and then burnt the town.

DURING these transactions the king of Arragon arrived at the camp, and after paying his obedience to the legate, told him, he understood the earl of Beziers, his kinsman, was in the city of Carcasson, and that, if he would grant him permission, he would go thither, and endeavour to make him sen|sible of the duty he owed both to the pope and church. The legate readily acquiescing, the king immediately repaired to the earl, and, among other questions, asked him from what motives he shut himself up in that city, and against so great an ar|my? The earl answered, it was to defend his life, goods, and subjects: that he knew the pope, under pretence of religion, resolved to destroy his uncle, the earl of Thoulouse, and himself; that he saw the cruelty which they had used at Beziers, even against the priests: adding also what they had done to the town of Carcasson, and that they must look for no mercy from the legate or his army; he, therefore, rather chose to die, defending himself with his subjects, than fall into the hands of so in|exorable an enemy as the legate: that though he had in his city some that were of another religion, yet they were such as had not wronged any, were come to his succour in his greatest extremity, and for their good service he was resolved not to aban|don them; that his trust was in God, the defender of the oppressed; and that he would assist them against those ill-advised men, who forsook their own houses to burn, sack, and kill other men without reason, judgment, or mercy.

THE king reported to the legate what the earl had said: the legate, after considering for some time, replied, "For your sake, sir, I will receive the earl of Beziers to mercy, and with him twelve others shall be safe, and be permitted to retire with their property; but as for the rest, I am determined to have them at my discretion."

THIS answer displeased the king; and when the earl heard it, he absolutely refused to comply with such terms. The legate then commanded another assault, but his troops were again repulsed with great slaughter, and the dead bodies occasioned a stench that was exceedingly offensive both to the be|sieged and besiegers.

THE legate, being chagrined at this second dis|appointment, determined to act by stratagem. He therefore sent a gentleman, who was well skilled in dissimulation and artifice, to the earl of Beziers, with a seeming friendly message. The design was, by any means, to induce the earl to leave the city, in order to have an interview with the legate; and to this end the gentleman was to promise, or swear, whatever he thought proper; for, says the legate, "Swear to what falsehoods you will in such a case, as I will give you absolution."

UNFORTUNATELY this infamous plot succeeded: for the earl, believing the promises made him of personal security, and crediting the solemn oaths that the perjured agent swore upon the occasion, left the city, and went with him. The legate no sooner saw him, than he told him "He was a pri|soner,

and must remain so till Carcasson was sur|rendered, and the inhabitants taught their duty to the pope."

THE earl, on hearing this, cried out that he was betrayed, and exclaimed against the treachery of the legate, and perjury of the person he had employed. His complaints, however, availed nothing, for he was ordered into close confinement, and the place summoned to surrender immediately.

THE people, on receiving the summons, and hear|ing of the captivity of the earl, were thrown into the utmost consternation, when one of the citizens begging to be heard, informed the rest, "That he had been formerly told by some old men, that there was a very capacious subterraneous passage, which led from thence to the castle of Cameret, at thr••e leagues distance. If (continued he) we can find this passage, we may all escape before the legate can be apprized of our flight."

THIS information was joyfully received; all were employed to search for the passage, and, at length, it was happily found. In the beginning of the evening the inhabitants began their flight, taking with them their wives, children, a few days provi|sions, and such moveables as were most valuable and portable. They reached the castle by the morning, and escaped to Arragon, Catalonia, and such other places as they thought would secure them from the power of the bloody legate.

IN the morning the troops were strangely asto|nished, not hearing any noise, nor seeing any man stirring in the city; yet they approached the walls with much fear, lest it should be but a stratagem to endanger them; but finding no opposition they mounted the walls, crying out, that the Albigens••s were fled; and thus was the city, with all the spo••••s, taken, and the earl of Beziers committed to prison in one of the stronges•• towers of Carcasson, where he soon after died.

THE legate being now in possession of the city, ••••lled all the prelates, and great lords of his army 〈◊〉〈◊〉, telling them, that though it was requisite 〈◊〉〈◊〉 shoul•• be always a legate in the army, yet it 〈…〉〈…〉 necessary that there should be a secular general, wise and valiant, to command in all their affairs, &c. This charge was first offered to the duke of Burgongue, then to the earl of Ennevers, and thirdly, to the earl of St. Paul; but they all refused it. At length, it was offered to Simon, earl of Montfort, who, after some excuses, accept|ed of it.

FOUR thousand men were left to garrison Car|casson, and the deceased earl of Beziers was suc|ceeded in title and dignity by earl Simon, a bigoted Roman catholic, who threatened vengeance on the Albigenses, unless they conformed to the worship of the church of Rome.

THE king of Arragon, however, who was in his heart of the reformed persuasion, secretly en|couraged the Albigenses, and gave them hopes, that if they acted with prudence, they might cast off the yoke of the tyrannical earl Simon. They took his advice, and while Simon was gone to Montpellier, they surprized some of his fortresses, and were successful in several expeditions against his officers.

THESE proceedings so enraged earl Simon, that re|turning f••om Montpellier, he collected together some forces, marched against the Albigenses, and ordered every prisoner he took to be immedately burnt. Failing, however, in some of his enterprizes, he grew disheartened, and wrote to every Roman catholic power in Europe, to send him some assistance, other|wise he should not be able to hold out against the Albigenses.

HAVING received some succours, he attacked the castle of Beron, and making himself master of it, ordered the eyes to be put out, and the noses to be cut off, of all the garrison, one person alone ex|cepte••, and he was deprived of one eye only, that he might conduct the rest to Cabaret.

BEING joined by some additional forces, earl Somon unde••••ook the siege of Menerbe, which, on account of the want of water, was obliged to yield to him. The Lord of Termes, the governor, was put in prison, where he died: his wife, sister, and daughter, were burnt; and one hundred and eighty others were committed to the flames. Ma|ny

other castles surrendered to the forces of earl Simon, and the inhabitants were butchered in a manner equally inhuman.

IT is now necessary to take some notice of the earl of Thoulouse, who by means of letters of re|commendation from the king of France, after ma|ny difficulties, was reconciled to the Pope: at least the Pope pretended to give him remission for the death of friar Peter, and to absolve him from all other crimes he had committed.

THE legate, however, by the connivance of the Pope, did all he could to ruin the earl of Thou|louse. Some altercations having passed between them, the legate excommunicated the earl; and the Roman catholic bishop of Thoulouse, upon this encouragement, thought proper to send this imprudent message to the earl, "That as he was an excommunicated person, he commanded him to de|part the city; for an ecclesiastic could not say mass with propriety, while a person of such a descrip|tion was so near him."

THE earl was greatly exasperated at the bishop's insolence, and sent him an order immediately to de|part from the place on pain of death. This order was all the prelate wanted, and was what he wished for, as it would give him some shadow of a rea|son to complain of that nobleman.

THE bishop with the canons of the cathedral church marched out of the city in solemn proces|sion, barefooted and bareheaded, taking with them the cross, banner, host, &c. and proceeded in that manner to the legate's army. Here they were re|ceived with great respect as persecuted martyrs, and the legate thought this a sufficient excuse to proceed against the earl of Thoulouse, for having, as he termed it, relapsed from the truth. The legate at|tempted to get him into his power by stratagem, but the earl being apprized of the design, escaped the snare.

ENRAGED at his disappointment, the legate laid siege to the castle of Montferrand, which belonged to the earl, and was governed by Baldwin his bro|ther. On the first summons, Baldwin no•• only sur|rendered, but abjured his religion, and turned pa|pist. This stroke, which severely afflicted the earl of Thoulouse, was followed by another that gave him still greater mortification; for his old friend the king of Arragon forsook his interest; and it was sti|pulated, that the king of Arragon's daughter should be married to earl Simon's oldest son. The legate's troops were then joined by the forces of Arragon, and those belonging to earl Simon, when they joint|ly laid siege to Thoulouse.

THE earl of Thoulouse determined to interrupt the besiegers by frequent sallies. In the first of these he met with a severe repulse; but in the se|cond he took earl Simon's son prisoner, and in the third he unhorsed earl Simon himself. After seve|ral furious assaults given by the popish army, and some other successful sallies of the Albigenses, the earl of Thoulouse compelled his enemies to raise the siege. In their retreat they did much mischief in the countries through which they passed, and put many defenceless Albigenses to death.

THE earl of Thoulouse now did all he could to recover the friendship of the king of Arragon, and as the marriage ceremony between that monarch's daughter, and earl Simon's son, had not been per|formed, he intreated him to break off that prepos|terous match, and proposed another more proper, viz. that his own eldest son and heir to the earldom of Thoulouse, should wed the princess of Arra|gon, and that by this match their friendship should be again united and more firmly cemented.

THE king of Arragon was easily persuaded not only to come into this proposal, but to form a league with the principal Albigenses, and to put himself as captain-general at the head of their uni|ted forces, consisting of his own people, and of the troops of the earls of Thoulouse, Foix, and Comminges. The papists were greatly alarmed at these proceedings; earl Simon sent all over christen|dom to engage the assistance of the Roman catho|lic powers, and the Pope's legate began hostilities by entering the dominions of the earl of Foix, and committing the most cruel depredations.

THE army of the Albigens••s being ready to take the field, the king of Arragon began his operations by laying siege to Murat, a town near Thoulouse,

belonging to the Roman catholics, strongly fortifi|ed, and pleasantly situated upon the river Garonne. Earl Simon, by forced marches, came to the assist|ance of the place; and unfortunately the king of Arragon, who kept up very little discipline in his army, was feasting and revelling, at a time when all his attention was requisite. Earl Simon sudden|ly attacked the Albigenses, while they were in con|fusion, when the united forces of the reformed were defeated, and the king of Arragon himself was slain. The loss of this battle was imputed to the negligence of the king of Arragon, who kept up no manner of order in his army, and was as fond of entertainment in a camp, as if he had been securely at peace in a palace.

FLUSHED with this victory, the popish com|manders declared they would entirely root out and extirpate the whole race of the Albigenses; and earl Simon sent an insolent message to the earls of Thoulouse, Foix, and Comminges, to deliver to him all the castles and fortresses of which they were possessed. Those noblemen did not think proper to return an answer to the demand, but retired to their respective territories, in order to put them in|to the best posture of defence.

EARL Simon marched towards the city of Thou|louse, when the earl of Thoulouse, who had re|tired to Montalban, se••t word to the citizens of the former place, to make the best terms they could with the Roman catholics, as he was confident they could not hold out a siege; but at the same time recommended them to preserve their hearts for him, though they surrendered their persons to another. The citizens of Thoulouse, upon receiving this intimation, sent deputies to earl Simon, with offers of immediate surrender, provided the city itself, and the persons and properties of its inhabitants▪ should be perfectly safe, and protected from devas|tations or injury.

THESE conditions were agreed to immediately, and earl Simon, in order to ingratiate himself at court, wrote a letter to prince Lewis, the son of Philip, king of France, informing him that the city of Thoulouse had offered to surrender to him; but being willing that the prince should have the honour of receiving the keys, and taking the ho|mage of the people, he begged that he would re|pair to the camp for that purpose.

PRINCE Lewis, pleased with the invitation, we••t directly to the army, and had the city of Thou|louse surrendered to him in form. The Pope's l••|gate, however, was greatly displeased at the mild conditions granted to the people of Thoulouse, and insisted, that though the prince might take upon him the sovereignty of the place, and receive the homage of the people, yet the plunder belonged to the holy pilgrims (for so the popish soldiers employ|ed in these expeditions were called); and that the place, as a receptacle of heretics, ought to be dis|mantled.

IN vain did the prince, and earl Simon, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 against such harsh proceedings, so contrary 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the conditions granted at the surrender of the pla••••: the legate was peremptory, when earl Simon, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the prince, unwilling to come to an open 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with him, gave up the point, and suffered him 〈◊〉〈◊〉 do as he pleased. The legate immediately sent 〈◊〉〈◊〉 holy pilgrims, as he termed them, to work, wh•••• they presently dismantled the city, and plunder•••• the inhabitants: thus the poor people were stripp•••• of all their property, at a time they thought the••|selves perfectly secured by the articles of the treaty of surrender.

THE Pope's legate finding, that among the Al|bigenses were many lucrative places, which 〈◊〉〈◊〉 o•• course fall to the disposal of the prince, he d••|termined, by an artifice, to deprive him of any a••|vantage which might accrue from thence; for he thought the Romish church ought to engross 〈◊〉〈◊〉 monopolize every thing that was valuable. To 〈◊〉〈◊〉 end he gave absolution to the Albigenses, which though they had not in the least changed their r••l••|gious opinions, he cunningly called reconcil•••••• them to the church. The prince, not apprized 〈◊〉〈◊〉 this stratagem, was going to put such of his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 as he thought merited encouragement, into 〈◊〉〈◊〉 possession of some places of profit; when, to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 great astonishment, the legate informed him, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he had no power to dispose of those places. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 prince demanded an explanation of his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 "My meaning (replied the legate) is, that the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 have received absolution, and being 〈◊〉〈◊〉

to, are consequently under the protection of, the church; therefore, all places among, or connected with them, are in the disposal of the church only."

THE prince, though offended at this curious mode of reasoning, and highly displeased at the meanness of the subterfuge, thought proper, at that time, to dissemble his resentment. Determin|ed, however, to quit the legate, he put the troops that were under his command in motion, and marched to attack some other fortresses; but he found, wherever he came, that the legate had played the same trick, and plainly perceived, if he continued his military operations, that when un|successful, he should bear all the blame, and when successful, the legate would run away with all the profit. These considerations convinced him of the folly of remaining longer in the army; he there|fore left it in disgust, and returned to court.

EARL Simon now, with his own forces, those the prince had just quitted, and some other auxilia|ries, undertook the siege of Foix, being provoked to it by two reasons, viz. the death of his brother, who was slain by the earl of Foix, who was of the reformed persuasion. He lay before the castle of Foix for the space of ten days, during which time he frequently assaulted it, but was as often repulsed. Hearing that an army of Arragonians were in full march towards him, in order to revenge the death of their king, he raised the siege of Foix, and went to meet them. The earl of Foix immediate|ly sallied out and harrassed his rear, and the Arra|gonians attacking his front, gave him a total defeat, which compelled him to shut himself up in Car|casson.

THE Pope's legate called a council at Montpel|lier, for renewing the military operations against the Albigenses, and for doing proper honour to earl Simon, who was pre••ent; for the Arragoni|ans not taking advantage of their victory, had neglected to block u•• Carcasson. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 which omission earl Simon had the liberty to repa•••• to Montpellier.

AT the council the legate, in the pope's name, paid many compliments to earl Simon, and decla|red, that he should be prince of all the countries that might in future be taken from the Albigenses; at the same time, by order of the pontiff, he stiled him, The active and dextrous soldier of Jesus Christ, and the invincible defender of the Catholic faith. But just as the earl was going to return thanks for these great honours, and fine encomi|ums, a messenger brought word, that the people, having heard earl Simon was in the council, had taken up arms, and were coming thither to destroy him as a common disturber.

THIS threw the whole council into great confu|sion; and earl Simon, though a minute before sti|led an Invincible Defender of the Faith, was glad to jump out of a window, and steal away from the city by the most private passages.

THE affair becoming serious, according to the opinions of the papists, the Pope himself soon af|t••r called a council, to be held at Lateran, in which great powers were granted to Roman catholic in|quisitors, and many Albigenses were immediately put to death. This council of Lateran likewise confirmed to earl Simon all the honours intended him by the council of Montpellier, and empower|ed him to raise another army against the Albi|genses.

EARL Simon immediately repaired to court, re|ceived his investiture from the French king, and began to levy forces. Having raised a considerable number of troops, he determined, if possible, to exterminate the Albigenses, when he received ad|vice, that his countess was besieged in Narbonne, by the earl of Thoulouse. Earl Simon proceeded to the relief of his wife, when the Albigenses met him, gave him battle, and defeated him. He, however, found means to escape from the sight, and get into the castle of Narbonne.

DURING earl Simon's misfortunes, Thoulouse was recovered by the Albigenses; but the Pope still espousing earl Simon's cause, raised forces on his account, and enabled him, once more, to under|take the siege of that city. The earl assaulted the place furiously, but being repulsed with great loss, he seemed sunk in affliction; when the Pope's le|gate said, to comfort him, "Fear nothing, my lord, make another vigorous attack; let us by any

means recover the city, and destroy the inhabitants; and those of our men who are slain in the fight, I will assure you shall immediately pass into para|dise." One of Earl Simon's principal officers, on hearing this, said with a sneer, "Monsieur Car|dinal, you talk with great assurance; but if the earl believes you, he will▪ as heretofore, pay dearly for his confidence."

EARL Simon, however, took the legate's advice, made another assault, and was again repulsed. To complete his misfortune, before the troops could recover from their confusion, the earl of Foix made his appearance at the head of a formidable body of forces, and attacked the already dispirited army of earl Simon, easily put them to the rout; when the earl himself narrowly escaped being drowned in the Garonne, into which he had hastily plunged, in or|der to avoid being taken.

THIS miscarriage almost broke earl Simon's heart; but the pope's legate bade him yet be of good chear, for he would raise him another army; which promise, with some difficulty, and three years delay, he at length performed, and that bi|goted nobleman was, once more, enabled to take the field. He bent his whole force against Thou|louse, which he besieged for the space of nine months, when, in one of the sallies made by the besieged, his horse was wounded. The animal be|ing in great anguish, ran away with him, and bore him directly under the ramparts of the city, when an archer taking aim, shot him in the thigh with an arrow; and a woman immediately after throw|ing a large stone from the wall, it struck him upon the head, and killed him instantly. Upon the death of the earl, the siege was raised; but the legate, greatly enraged to be disappointed of his wished for vengeance on the inhabitants of that de|voted city, engaged the king of France in the cause, who sent his son to besiege it. The French prince, with some chosen troops, furiously assaulted Thoulouse, but meeting with a severe repulse, he grew sick of the enterprize, and abandoned Thou|louse to besiege Miromand. This place he soon took by storm, and put all the inhabitants, consist|ing of 5000 men, women, and children, to the sword.

THE legate, whose name was Bertrand, being very old, grew weary of following the army; but his passion for blood-spilling still remained, as ap|pears by his epistle to the Pope, in which he begs to be recalled, on account of his age and infirmi|ties; but intreats the pontiff to appoint a successor, who might continue the war with as much spirit and perseverance as he had done.

THE Pope recalled Bertrand according to his de|sire, and appointed Conrade, bishop of Portua, to be legate in his room. The new legate determined to tread in the steps of his predecessor, and to per|secute the Albigenses with the greatest severity. Guido, earl of Monfort, the son and heir of earl Simon, undertook the command of the troops, and immediately laid siege to Thoulouse, before the walls of which he was slain. His brother Alme|rick succeeded to the command; but the spirited conduct of the besieged obliged him to raise the siege.

THE legate now prevailed upon the king of France to undertake the siege of Thoulouse in person, and reduce to the obedience of the church those obstinate heretics, as he thought proper to call the brave Albigenses. Hearing of the great preparations made by the king of France, the earl of Thoulouse sent the women, children, cattle, &c. into secret and secure places in the mountains, ploughed up the land, that the king's forces should not obtain any forage, and did all that a skilful ge|neral could perform to save his country, and distress the enemy. By these wise regulations the French army, soon after, entering the earldom of Thou|louse, suffered all the extremities of famine, which obliged the troops to feed on the carcases of horses▪ on dead dogs, cats, &c. which unwholesome foo•• produced the plague. This complicated distres•• broke the king's heart; nevertheless, his son, wh•• succeeded him, determined to carry on the war, but was defeated by the earl of Thoulouse in three s••|veral engagements.

THE king, the queen-mother, and three arch|bishops, however, raised another formidable ar••y▪ and had the art to persuade the earl of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to come to a conference, when he was treachero•••••• seized upon, made a prisoner, forced to appe••••

bare-footed and bare-headed before his enemies, and compelled to subscribe to the following unrea|sonable and ignominious conditions:

1. THAT he should abjure the faith he had hi|therto defended.

2. THAT he should be subject to the church of Rome.

3. THAT he should give his daughter Joan in marriage to one of the brothers of the king of France.

4. THAT he should maintain in Thoulouse six popish professors of the liberal arts, and two gram|marians.

5. THAT he should take upon him the cross, and serve five years against the Saracens in the Ho|ly Land.

6. THAT he should level the walls of Thoulouse with the ground.

7. THAT he should destroy the walls and fortifi|cations of thirty of his other cities and castles, as the legate should direct.

8. THAT he should remain prisoner at the Lou|vre in Paris, till his daughter was delivered to the king's commissioners.

THESE hard conditions were followed by a severe persecution against the Albigenses (many of whom suffered for the faith); and express orders, that the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 should not be permitted to read the sacred scriptures.

IN the year 1620 the persecution against the Albigenses was very great. At a town called Tell, while the minister was preaching to a congregation of the reformed, the papists attacked and murder|ed many of the people. A lady of considerable eminence, being exhorted to change her religion, if not for her own sake, at least for the sake of the infant she held in her arms, the lady, with an un|daunted courage, said, "I did not quit Italy, my native country, nor forsake the estate I had there, for the sake of Jesus Christ, to renounce him here. With respect to my infant, why should I not deliver him up to death, since God delivered up his Son to die for us?" As soon as she had done speak|ing, they took the child from her, delivered it to a popish nurse to bring up, and then cut the lady to pieces.

DOMINICO Berto, a youth of sixteen, refusing to turn papist, was set upon an ass with his face to the tail, which he was obliged to hold in his hand for a bridle. In this condition he was lead to the market-place, amidst the acclamations of the po|pulace; after which they cut off his nose, ears, and cheeks, and burnt holes in several parts of his body, till he expired.

AN Albigenses young lady, of a noble family, was seized by the papists, and carried through the streets with a paper mitre upon her head. After mocking, beating, and smearing her face with dirt, they bade her call upon the saints: to which she replied, "My trust and salvation is in Christ only; for even the Virgin Mary, without the merits of her Son, could not be saved." On hear|ing this, the multitude fell upon her, and mur|dered her.

An Account of the Persecutions in France, previous to, and during the Civil Wars of that Nation.

IN the third century, a learned man, named Al|mericus, and six of his disciples, were ordered to be burnt at Paris, for holding these tenets:

1. THAT God was no otherwise present in the sacramental bread, that in any other bread.

2. THAT it was idolatry to build altars, or shrines, to saints.

3. THAT it was ridiculous to offer incense to saints.

4. THAT it was absurd to kiss the relics of saints.

THE martydom of Almericus and his pupils, did not, however, prevent many from acknowledging the justness of his notions, and seeing the purity of the reformed religion, so that the faith of Christ continually increased, and in time not only spread itself over many parts of France, but diffused the light of the gospel over various other countries.

IN the year 1524, at a town in France, called Melden, one John Clark set up a bill on the church door, wherein he called the pope Antichrist. For this offence he was repeatedly whipped, and then branded in the forehead: his mother, who stood by at the time, cried with a loud voice, "Blessed be Christ, and welcome these ••••arks for his sake." Going afterwards to Metz, in Lorraine, he de|molished some images, for which he had his right hand and nose cut off, and his arms and breasts torn by sharp pincers. He sustained these cruelties with amazing fortitude, and was even sufficiently cool to sing the 115th psalm, which expressly forbids idolatry.

AFTER having sung this psalm with admirable patience, he was thrown into the fire, and burnt to ashes.

MANY persons of the reformed persuasion, were, about this time, beaten, racked, scourged, and burnt to death, in several parts of France; but more particularly at Paris, Malda, and Limosin.

A native of Malda was bunrt in a slow fire for saying that mass was a plain denial of the death and passion of Christ. At Limosin, John de Ca|durco, a clergyman of the reformed religion, was apprehended, degraded, and ordered to be burnt.

AT his degradation a friar undertook to preach a sermon upon the occasion; when opening the New Testament he pitched upon this text, in the first epistle o•• St. Paul the apostle to Timothy, chap. iv. ver. 1. "Now the Spirit speaketh expressly, that in the l••tter times some shall depart from the faith, giving ••eed to seducing spirits, and doctrines of devils." The friar began to expound this verse in favour of the Roman catholic persuasion, and in condemnation of the reformed religion, when John de Cadurco called to him, and begged, that before he proceeded in his sermon, he would read the two verses which followed that he had chosen for his text. The friar again opened the Testament, but on casting his eye on the passage, he stood mute and confounded. John de Cadurco then desired that the book might be handed to him; this request being complied with, he read thus, "Speaking lies in hypocrisy, having their conscience seared with a hot iron. Forbidding to marry, and command|ing to abstain from meats, which God hath created to be received with thanksgiving of them which believe and know the truth." The Roman catho|lics plainly saw, but had not candour sufficient to own their error; but instead of thanking the per|son who pointed out their being wrong, they con|demned him to the flames, and was burned ac|cordingly.

AT Paris, Alexander Kanus, a reformed clergy|man, was burnt in a slow fire; four men were committed to the flames for distributing about pa|pers that ridiculed their saying mass. One had his tongue bored through for speaking ill of the Ro|mish superstitions. Peter Gaudet, a Genoese, was burnt by the desire of his own uncle, a bigoted Roman catholic; and John Pointer, a surgeon, had his tongue cut out, and was then committed to the flames.

AT Arras, Foutanis, and Rutiers, many were martyred for being of the reformed religion; in particular, at the latter place, one Stephen Brune was condemned to be burnt for refusing to attend mass. When the fire was kindled, the flames were driven from him by a brisk gale of wind: this occasioned the executioner to heap more fag|gots round him, and pour oil on them. Still, however, the wind blew the flames in a contra|ry direction, when the executioner absurdly grew angry with Stephen Brune, and in his passion struck him on the head. Brune very calmly said in re|turn, "As I am condemned only to be burnt, why do you strike me wit•• a staff like a dog." This expression so greatly ••••raged the executioner, that he ran him through with a pike, and then burnt the body when dead.

AYMOND de Lavoy, a minister of Bourdeaux, had a complaint lodged against him by the Romish

clergy of that city. On hearing this, his friends advised him to abscond; but he absolutely refused so to do, and told them, "That should he be ab|sent himself, the people might well imagine what he had preached consisted only of dreams and fa|bles, and not extracted from the pure word of God; but to prevent them from entertaining such a no|tion, he determined to seal his testimony of the truth with his blood." When he was seized upon, the people would have rescued him, but he desired them to forbear, saying, "Since it is the will of God that I should suffer for him, I will not resist his will." He remained nine months in prison on the information only, and patiently suffered all the inclemencies of a gaol. Being brought to trial, he was order••d to be racked; when in the extremity of the torture he comforted himself with this ex|pression; "This body must once die, but the soul shall live; for the kingdom of God endureth for ever." At length he swooned away; but on re|covering, prayed for his persecutors. The ques|tion was then put to him, "Whether he would embrace the Roman catholic persuasion; which po|sitively refusing, he was condemned to be burnt. At the place of execution he said, "O Lord, make haste to help me; tarry not; despise not the work of thy hands." And perceiving some who used to attend his sermons, he addressed them thus, "My friends. I exhort you to study and learn the gospel; for the word of God abideth for ever. Labour to know the will of God, and fear not them that kill the body▪ but ha••e no power over the soul." The executioner then strangled him, and afterwards burnt his body.

WILLIAM Husson, an apo••••ecary of Blois, went from that city to Rouen, and there privately distri|buted and scattered about several small pamphlets, explaining the tenets of the reformed church, and exposing the Romish superstitions. These books gave a general alarm, and a council being called, an order was issued for diligent search to be made for the author and distribut••r. With some difficul|•••• it was at length discovered that Husson had brought them to Rouen, and that he was gone to|wards Di••pp••. Orders for a pursuit were given, and Husson being apprehended, was brought back to Rouen, where he confessed he was both author and distributer of the books in question. This confession occasioned his condemnation, when he was executed in the following manner. His tongue being cut out, his hands and feet were tied behind, and he was drawn up by a pulley to a gibbet, and then let down into a fire kindled beneath; in which situation he called upon the Lord, and soon ex|pired.

FRANCIS Bribard, secretary to cardinal de Bellay, for speaking in favour of the reformed, had his tongue cut out, and was then burnt, A. D. 1544. James Cobard, a school-master in the city of St. Michael, was burnt, A. D. 1545, for saying, "That mass was useless and absurd; and about the same time, fourteen men were burnt at Malda, their wives being compelled to stand by and behold the execution.

A. D. 1546, Peter Chapot brought a number of bibles in the French tongue to France, and pub|licly sold them there; for which being apprehend|ed, he was condemned to be burnt; which sentence was executed a few days after it was passed. Soon after a cripple of Meaux, a school-master of Fera, named Stephen Polliot, and a man named John English, were burned for the faith.

THE choice being offered to Michael Michelot, either to recant and be beheaded, or to persevere and be burned; he chose the latter, making use, at the same time, of these words: God, who has given me grace not to deny the truth, will give me strength to endure the fire." Many, about the same time were burnt at Paris, Bar, &c. and at Langres, five men and two women were, by the Roman catholics, committed to the flames for be|ing of the reformed religion: when the youngest woman encouraged the other, saying, "This day shall we be married to Jesus Christ, and be with him for ever."

MONSIEUR Blondel, a rich jeweller, was, A. D. 1548, apprehended at Lyons, and sent to Paris; where he was burnt for the faith, by order of the high court, A. D. 154••. Hubert, a youth of nineteen years of age, was committed to the flames at Dijon; as was Flo••ert V••note, in the same year.

A lady, named Ann Ard••ber••▪ designing, on

account of her faith, to retire to Geneva, was s••i••|ed and sent to Paris. Being condemned, she was led to execution by a rope placed round her waist. This rope she called her wedding girdle; and as it was on a Saturday, she said, "I was once marri|ed to a man on a Saturday, and now I shall be mar|ried to God on the same day of the week." She was at length fastened to the stake, and burnt, meeting her fate with the most exemplary fortitude.

SOME singular circumstances happened immedi|ately after the coronation of Henry the Second, king of France, which we shall relate. A taylor was apprehended for working on a saint's day; be|ing asked why he gave such offence to religion, his reply was, "I am a poor man, and having nothing but my labour to depend upon; necessity requires that I should be industrious, and my conscience tells me there is no day but the sabbath which I ought to keep sacred from labour." Having ex|pressed himself thus, he was committed to prison, and the affair being soon after rumoured at court, some of the nobles persuaded the king to be present at the trial. On the day appointed, the monarch appeared in a superb chair of state, and the bishop of Mascon was ordered to interrogate the prisoner. The Taylor, on perceiving the king, paid his obe|dience to him in the most respectful manner, say|ing, "I thank God for honouring me thus, and for permitting me to vindicate the light of his gos|pel before so great a prince." The prelate then ques|tioned him concerning the tenets of his faith, when the clearness and spirit of his answers amazed all that heard him. The king was much affected and seemed to muse, when the bishop exclaimed, "He is an obstinate and impudent heretic; let him be taken back again to prison, f••om thence conveyed to the place of execution, and there burnt to death." As the king did not oppose what the bishop said, the officers proceeded to do as they were ordered; and, in the mean time, lest what the taylor had uttered might alarm the conscience of the king, the bishop artfully insinuated, "That the heretics (as he call|ed the reformed) had many specious arguments in their mouths, which, at their first hearing, appear|ed conclusive, but on serious examination, they were found to be false and deceitful. He then used his utmost endeavours in persuading the king to be present at the execution, who at length consented▪ and repaired to a balcony which overlooked the place where persons under condemnation were usual|ly put to death. When the taylor saw the king, he fixed his eyes stedfastly upon him, and even while the flames were consuming him, he kept ga|zing in such a manner, as threw the monarch into visible confusion, and obliged him to reti••e before the martyr gave up the ghost. The king was so shocked upon this occasion, that he could not reco|ver his spirits for some time; and what added to his disquiet, was, his continually dreaming for ma|ny successive nights, that he saw the taylor with his eyes fixed upon him, in the same manner as during the execution.

A pious man, named Claudius, was burnt at Or|leans; a Genoese youth, called Thomas, having rebuked a Roman catholic for profanely swearing▪ was informed against as an heretic, and committed to the flames at Paris: and three men at Lyons, being condemned for their religion, were conduct|ed to the place of execution; two of them with ropes about their necks; but the third, having been an officer in the king's service, was exempted from that disgrace. He, however, told the officer, that he begged to be treated in the same manner as his companions, and desired they would indulge him with one of those precious collars about his neck, in honour of the Lord. His request was complied with: and after having sung a psalm with great fervency, they were all three burnt.

MATTHEW Dimonet, a converted libertine; Si|mon ••al••e, a citizen of Geneva; and Nicholas Naile, a bookseller of Paris, were martyred by fire▪ for professing the reformed religion.

PETER Serre was originally a priest, but reflect|ing on the errors of popery, he, at length, embraced the reformed religion, and learned the trade of a shoe-maker, that by honest industry he might obtain a subsistence. Having a brother at Thoulouse, who was a bigoted Roman catholic, Serre, out of fra|ternal love, made a journey to that city, in order to dissuade him from his superstitions. The brother•••• wife not approving of his design, lodged a com|plaint against him. He was soon apprehended, and very candidly made a full declaration of his faith. The judge then asked him concerning his occupa|tion:

to which he replied, "I have of late practised the trade of a shoe-maker." Of late, said the judge, and what did you practise formerly? That I am almost ashamed to tell you, exclaimed Serre, be|cause it was the vilest and most wicked occupation imaginable. The judge and all who were presen••, from these words supposed he had been a murderer. or thief, and that what he spoke was through con|trition for his past crimes. The judge, however, to put the matter beyond d••ubt, ordered him to explain precisely what he meant; when Serre, with tears in his eyes, cried, "O•• I was formerly that abominable thing—A POPISH PRIEST." This re|ply surprized all who heard it, and so much exaspe|rated the judge, that he condemned Serre to be first degraded, then to have his tongue cut, and after|wards to be publicly burnt; which sentence was punctually executed in all its parts.

IN the year 1554, two men of the reformed reli|gion, with the son and daughter of one of them, were apprehended and committed to the castle of Niverne. On examination, they confessed their faith, and were ordered for execution: being smear|ed with grease, brimstone, and gunpowder, they cried, Salt on, salt on this sinful and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 flesh. Their tongues were then cut out, and they were afterwards committed to the flames▪ which soon consumed them, by 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of the combustible mat|ter with which they were besmeared.

PHILIP Hamlin, a pri••st, was apprehended for having renounced the errors of popery, and em|bracing the reformed religion. Being condemned to the stake, the faggots were piled about him, when he began earnestly to exhort the people to quit the errors of the church of Rome. The offi|cer, who presided at the execution, on hearing this, ordered the faggots to be immediately lighted, and that one should blow a trumpet while Hamlin was burning, that the people should not hear his voice, or be induced to change their opinions from what he might utter.

An Account of the Martyrdom of JOHN CALAS.

AS we are now treating of the persecutions in the kingdom of France, it may not be im|proper to look a little forward to modern tim••s, wherein we may see the same persecuting spirit of popery, that raged formerly, most strikingly exhi|bited in the martyrdom of John Calas.

THIS is one of the most singular affairs that ever happened, and by being transacted in a polished age, shews that neither experience, or improvement, can root out the inveterate prejudices of the Roman catholics; or render them less cruel, or inexorable, to the Protestants.

JOHN Calas was a merchant of the city of Thou|louse, where he had been settled, and lived in good repute, and had married an English woman of French extraction.

CALAS and his wife were protestants, and had five sons, whom they educated in the same religion; but Lewis, one of the sons, became a Roman catholic, having been converted by a maid-servant, who had lived in the family above thirty years. The father, however, did not express any resentment or ill-will upon the occasion, but kept the maid in the family, and settled an annuity upon the son. In October 1761, the family consisted of John Calas and his wife, one woman servant, Mark Anthony Calas, the eldest son, and Peter Calas, the second son. Mark Anthony was bred to the law, but could not be admitted to practise, on account of his being a protestant: hence he grew melancholy, read all the books which he could procure relative to suicide, and seemed determined to destroy himself. To this may added, that he led a dissipated life, was greatly addicted to gaming, and did all which could constitute the character of a libe••tine. On which account his father frequently reprehended him, and sometimes in terms of severity, which considerably added to the gloom that seemed to oppress him.

ON the 13th of October, 1761, Mr. Gober la Vaisse, a young gentlem••n about nineteen years of age, the son of La Vaisse, a celebrated advocate of Thoulouse, having been some time at Bourdeaux, came back to Thoulouse to see his father; but find|ing that he was go••e to his country house, at some distance from 〈…〉〈…〉, he went to several places, endeavouring to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a horse to carry him thither. No horse, howev••••, was to be hired; and, about five o'clock in the evening, he was met by John Calas the father, and the eldest son Mark Anthony,

who was his friend. Calas, the father▪ invited him to supper, as he could not set out for his father's that night, and La Vaisse consented. All three, therefore, proceeded to Calas's house together, and when they came thither, finding that Mrs. Calas was still in her own room, which she had not quit|ted that day, La Vaisse went up to see her. After the first compliments, he told her, he was to sup with her by her husband's invitation, at which she expressed her satisfaction, and a few minutes after left him, to give some orders to her maid. When that was done, she went to look for her son Antho|ny, whom she found sitting alone in the shop, very pensive: she gave him some money, and desired him to go and buy some Roquefort cheese, as he knew how to buy it good better than any other person in the family. She then returned to her guest La Vaisse, who very soon after went again to the livery stable, to see if any horse was come in, that he might secure it for the next morning.

IN a short time Anthony returned, having bought the cheese, and La Vaisse also coming back about the same time, the family and their guest sat down to supper, in a room up one pair of stairs; the whole company, consisting of Calas the father and his wife, Anthony and Peter Calas the sons, and La Vaisse the guest, no other persons being in the house, except the maid-servant, who has been al|ready mentioned.

IT was now about seven o'clock: the supper was not long; but before it was over, or, according to the French expression, "when they came to the desert," Anthony left the table, and went into the kitchen, which was on the same floor, as he was accustomed to do. The maid asked him if he was cold? He answered, "Quite the contrary, I burn;" and then left her. In the mean time his friend and family left the room they had supped in, and went into a bed-chamber; the father and La Vaisse sat down together on a sofa; the younger son Peter in an elbow chair; and the mother in another chair; and, without making any iniquiry after Anthony, continued in conversation together till between nine and ten o'clock, when La Vaisse took his leave, and Peter, who had fallen asleep, was awakened to at|tend him with a light.

ON the ground floor of Calas's house was a shop and a warehouse; the latter of which was divided from the shop by a pair of folding doors. When Peter Calas and La Vaisse came down stairs into the shop, they were extremely shocked to see Anthony hanging in his shirt, from a bar which he had laid across the top of the two folding doors, having half opened them for that purpose. On discovery of this horrid spectacle, they shrieked out, which brought down Calas the father, the mother being seized with such a terror as kept her trembling in the passage above. The unhappy old man rushed forward, and taking the body in his arms, the bar, to which the rope that suspended him was fastened, slipped off from the folding door of the warehouse, and fell down. Having placed the body on the ground, he loosed and took off the cord in an agony of grief and anguish not to be expressed, weeping, trembling, and deploring himself and his child. The two young men, his second son and La Vaisse, who had not had presence of mind enough to at|tempt to take down the body, were standing by, stupid with amazement and horror. In the mean time the mother, hearing the confused cries and complaints of her husband, and finding no one come to her, found means to get down stairs. At the bottom she saw La Vaisse, and hastily demand|ed what was the matter. This question rouzed Calas in a moment, and instead of answering her, he urged her to go again up stairs, to which, with much reluctance, she consented; but the conflict of her mind being such as could not be long borne, she sent down the maid to know what was the matter. When the maid discovered what had happened, she continued below, either because she feared to carry an account of it to her mistress, or because she busied herself in doing some good of|fice to her master, who was still embracing the body of his son, and bathing it in his tears. The mother, therefore, being thus left alone, went down, and mixed in the scene, that has been already described, with such emotions as it must naturally produce. In the mean time Peter had been sent for La Moire, a surgeon in the neighbourhood. La Moire was not at home, but his apprentice, Mr. Grosse, came instantly. Upon examination, he found the body quite dead; and upon taking off the neckcloth, which was of black tassata, he saw the mark of the cord, and immediately pronounced

that the deceased had been strangled. This parti|cular had not been told, for the poor old man, when Peter was going for La Moire, cried out, "Save at least the honour of my family; do not go and spread a report that your brother has made away with himself."

BY this time a croud of people were gathered about the house, and one Casing, with another friend or two of the family, were come in. Some of those who were in the street had heard the cries and exclamations of the father, the mother, the brother, and his friend, before they knew what was the matter; and having by some means heard that Anthony Calas was suddenly dead, and that the surgeon, who had examined the body, declared he had been strangled, they took it into their heads he had been murdered; and as the family were pro|testants, they presently supposed that the young man was about to change his religion, and had been put to death for that reason. The cries they had heard they fancied were those of the deceased, while he was resisting the violence that was offered him. The tumult in the street increased every moment: some said that Anthony Calas was to have abjured the next day; others, that protestants are bound by their religion to strangle or cut the throats of their children when they are inclined to become catho|lics. Others, who had found out that La Vaisse was in the house when the accident happened, very confidently affirmed, that the protestants, at their last assembly, appointed a person to be their com|mon executioner upon these occasions, and that La Vaisse was the man, who, in consequence of the office to which he had been appointed, had come to Calas's house to hang his son.

THE poor father, therefore, who was overwhelm|ed with grief for the loss of his child, was advised by his friends to send for the officers of justice to prevent his being torn to pieces by the multitude, who supposed that he had murdered his son. This was accordingly done: a messenger was dispatched to the capitoul, one David, the first magistrate of the place; and another to an inferior officer, called an assessor. The capitoul was already set out, ha|ving been alarmed by the rumour of a murder be|fore the messenger sent from Calas's got to his house. He entered Calas's house with forty sol|diers, took the father, Peter the son, the mother•• La Vaisse, and the maid, all into custody, and set a guard over them. He sent for M. de la Tour, a physician, and M. la Marque and Perronet, sur|geons, who examined the body for marks of vio|lence, but found none except the mark of the liga|ture on the neck: they found also the hair of the deceased done up in the usual manner, perfectly smooth, and without the least disorder: his clothes were also regularly folded up, and laid upon the counter, nor was his shirt either torn or un|buttoned.

NOTWITHSTANDING these appearances ••••e capi|toul ••hought proper to agree with the opinion of the mob, and took it into his head that old Calas had sent for La ••aisse, telling him he had a son to be hanged; that La Vaisse had come to perform the office o•• executione••, and that he had received ass••stance from the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and brother.

IN consequence of these notions the capitoul or|dered the body of the deceased to be carried to the town-house, with the clothes. The father and son were thrown into a dark dungeon; and the mother, La Vaisse, the maid, and Casing, were imprisoned in one that admitted the light. The next day, what is called the verbal process was taken at the town-house, instead of the spot where the body was found, as the law directs, and was dated at Calas's house to conceal the irregularity. This verbal process is somewhat like the coroner's inquest in England: witnesses are examined, and the magis|trate makes his report, which is the same there as the verdict of the coroner's jury in England. The witnesses examined by the capitoul were, the physi|cian and surgeons, who proved Anthony Calas to to have been strangled. The surgeons having been ordered to examine the stomach of the deceased, deposed also, that the food which was found there had been taken four hours before his death.

AS no proof of the supposed fact could be pro|cured, the capitoul had recourse to a monitory, or general information, in which the crime was taken for granted, and all persons were required to give such testimony against it as they were able, parti|cularizing the points to which they were to speak. This recites that La Vaisse was commissioned by

the protestants to be their executioner in ordinary, when any of their children were to be hanged for changing their religion: it recites also, that when the protestants thus hang their children, they com|pel them to kneel, and one of the interrogatories was, whether any person had seen Anthony Calas kneel before his father when he strangled him: it re••ites likewise, that Anthony died a Roman catho|lic•• and requires evidence of his catholicism.

TH••SE ridiculous opinions being thus adopted and pu••lished by the principal magistrate of a con|siderable city, the church of Geneva thought itself obliged to send attestations of its abhorrence of opinions so abominable and absurd, and of its aston|ishment that they should be suspected of such opi|nions by persons whose rank and office required them to have more knowledge and better judge|ment.

BUT before this monitory was published, the mob had got a notion, that Anthony Calas was the next day to have entered into the fraternity of the White Penitents. The capitoul immediately adopted this opinion also, without the least examination, and or|dered Anthony's body to be buried in the middle of St. Stephen's church, which was accordingly done, forty priest's, and all the White Penitants, assisting in the funeral procession.

A few days after the interment of the deceased, the White Penitants performed a solemn service for him in their chapel: the church was hung with white, and a tomb was raised in the middle of it, on the top of which was placed a human skeleton, hold|ing in one hand a paper, on which was written, "Abjuration of heresy," and in the other a palm, the emblem of martyrdom.

THE next day the Franciscans performed a ser|vice of the same kind for him; and it is easy to imagine how much the minds of the people were inf••amed by this strange folly of their magistrates and priests.

THE capitoul continued the prosecution with un|relenting severity; and though the grief and dis|traction of the family, when he first came to the house, were alone sufficient to have convinced any reasonable being that they were not the authors of the event which they deplored, yet having publicly attested that they were guilty in his monitory with|out proof, and no proof coming in, he thought fit to condemn the unhappy father, mother, brother, friend, and servant, to the torture, and put them all into irons on the 18th of November. Casing was enlarged upon proof that he was not in Calas's house till after Anthony was dead.

FROM these dreadful proceedings the sufferers appealed to the parliament, which immediately took cognizance of the affair, and annulled the sentence of the capitoul as irregular; but they continued the prosecution.

WHEN the trial came on, the hangman, who had been taken to Calas's house, and shewn the folding doors and the bar, deposed, that it was impossible Anthony should hang himself as was pretended. Another witness swore, that he looked through the key-hole of Calas's door into a room, where 〈◊〉〈◊〉 men running hastily to and fro. A third 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that his wife had told him, a woman named Maun|drill had told her, that a certain woman unknow•• had declared, she heard the cries of Anthony Cal••s at the farther end of the city.

UPON this evidence the majority of the par••••••|ment were of opinion, that the prisoners were guilty, and therefore ordered them to be tried by the criminal court of Tho••lous••.

AMONG those who presided at the trial, was one La Borde, who had zealous••y espoused the popular prejudices; and though it 〈◊〉〈◊〉 manifest to demon|stration that the prisoners wer•• ••ither all innocent 〈◊〉〈◊〉 all guilty, he voted that the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 should first s••••|fer the torture, ordinary and extraordinary, to di••|cover his accomplices, and be then broken 〈◊〉〈◊〉 upon the wheel; to receive the last s••roke when 〈◊〉〈◊〉 had laid two hours, and then to be burnt to 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ In this opinion he had the concurrence of six others▪ three were for the torture alone; two were of opini|on that they should endeavour to ascertain upon the spot whether Anthony could hang himself or 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ and one voted to acquit the prisoner. After 〈◊〉〈◊〉 debates the majority was for the torture and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and probably condemned the father by way of ex|periment,

whether he was guilty or not, hoping he would, in the agony, confess the crime, and accuse the other prisoners, whose fate, therefore, they sus|pended. It is, however, certain, that if they had evidence against the father that would have justified the sentence they pronounced against him, that very evidence would have justified the same sentence against the rest; and that they could not justly condemn him, for they were all in the house together when Anthony died. All concurred in declaring he hang|ed himself▪ that the persons accused could have had no motive to do such an act▪ nor could they have hanged him by violence, without the knowledge of the rest.

POOR Calas▪ however, an old man of 68, was condemned to this dreadful punishment alone. He suffered the torture with great constancy, and was led to execution in a frame of mind which excited the admiration of all that saw him.

TWO Dominicans (father Bourges and father Cold••g••es) who attended him in his last moments, wished "their latter end might be like his;" and declared, that they thought him not only wholly innocent of the crime laid to his charge, but an exemplary instance of true christian patience, sorti|tude, and ch••rity.

ONE single shriek, and that not very violent, escaped him 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he received the first stroke; after that he uttered no complaint. Being at length placed on the wheel, to wait for the moment which was to end his life and his misery together, he ex|pressed himself with an humble hop•• of an happy immortality, and a compassionate regard for the judges who had condemned him. When he saw the executioner prepared to give him the last stroke, he made a fresh declaration of his innocence to fa|ther Bourges; but while the words were yet in his mouth, the capitoul, the author of this catastrophe, and who came upon the scaffold merely to gratify his desire of being a witness of his punishment and death, ran up to him, and bawled out, "Wretch, there are the faggots which are to reduce your body to ashes; speak the ••ruth." Mr. Calas made no reply, but turned his head a little aside, and that moment the executioner did his office.

DONAT Calas, a boy of fifteen years of age, and the youngest son of the unfortunate victim, was ap|prentice to a merchant at Nismes, when he heard of the dreadful punishment by which seven, unfortu|nately prejudiced judges of Thoulouse, had put his worthy father to death.

THE popular out••ry against this family was so violent in Languedoc, that every body expected to see the children of Calas broke upon the wheel, and the mother burnt alive. Even the attorney general expected it. So weak, it is said, had been the de|fence made by this innocent family, oppressed by misfortunes, and terrified at the sight of lighted piles, wheels, and racks.

YOUNG Donat Calas was made to dread sharing the fate of the rest of the family, and was advised to fly into Switzerland: he went and found a gen|tleman, who, at first, could only pity and relieve him, without daring to judge of the rigour exercised against the father, mother, and brothers.

SOON after, one of the brothers, who was only banished, likewise threw himself into the arms of the same person, who, for more than a month, took every possible precaution to be assured of the inno|cence of the family. But when he was once con|vinced, he thought himself obliged, in conscience, to employ his friends, his purse, his pen, and his credit, to repair the fatal mistake of the seven judges of Thoulouse, and to have the proceed|ings revised by the king's council. This revision lasted three years, and it is well known what ho|nour Messrs. de Grosne and Bacquancourt acquired by reporting this memorable cause. Fifty masters of the Court of Requests unanimously declared the whole family of Calas innocent, and recommended them to the benevolent justice of his majesty. The duke de Chois••ul, who never let slip an opportu|nity of signalizing the greatness of his character, not only assisted this unfortunate family with mo|ney, but obtained for them a g••atuity of 36,000 livres from the king.

ON the 9th of March, 1765, the arret was sign|ed, which justified the family of Calas, and changed their fate. The 9th of March, 1762, was the very day on which the innocent and virtuous father of

that family had been executed. All Paris ran in crouds to see them come out of prison, and clap|ped their hands for joy, while the tears streamed from their eyes.

THUS have we traced, through all its circumstan|ces, one of the most singular affairs that ever the annals of superstition, or the history of bigotry pro|duced; and lament, that a worthy and innocent man fell a sacrifice to that narrowness, which a po|pish education bestows, and which settled prejudices always convert to cruelty. Hence we may per|ceive, to what a depraved state the human mind may be reduced, when left to the guidance of the passions, or suffered to be the slave of enthusiasm. A sect, which would propagate its doctrines in blood, cannot be the favourers of truth: that per|suasion alone can merit the sacred name of religion, which wishes to reform mankind.

GOSPEL purity will equally shun superstition and cruelty, as the mildness of Christ's tenets teaches only to comfort in this world, and procure salvation in the next. To persecute for being of a different opinion, is as absurd as to persecute for having a different countenance: if we honour God, keep sacred the pure doctrines of Christ, put a full confi|dence in the promises contained in the holy scrip|tures, and obey the political laws of the state in which we reside, we have an undoubted right to protection instead of persecution, and to serve hea|ven, as our consciences, regulated by the gospel rules, may direct.

CHAP. IV. Containing an HISTORICAL ACCOUNT of the PERSECUTIONS in SPAIN, PORTUGAL, ITALY, &c. &c.

An Account of the Rise, Progress, &c. of the INQUISITION.

WHEN the reformed religion began to diffuse the gospel light throughout Europe, pope Innocent the Third entertained great fear for the Romish church. Unwilling that the spirit of free inquiry should gain ground, or that the people should attain more knowledge than the priests were willing to admit, he determined to impede, as much as possible, the progress of reformation. He ac|cordingly instituted a number of inquisitors, or persons who were to make inquiry after, apprehend, and punish heretics, as the reformed were called by the papists.

AT the head of these inquisitors was one Do|minic, who had been canonized by the pope, in order to render his authority the more respectable. Dominic, and the other inquisitors, spread them|selves into various Roman catholic countries, and treated the protestants with the utmost severity. In process of time, the pope, not finding these ro|ving inquisitors so useful as he had imagined, resol|ved upon the establishment of fixed and regular courts of inquisition. After the order for these regular courts, the first office of inquisition was established in the city of Thoulouse, and Dominic became the first regular inquisitor, as he had before been the first roving iniquisitor.

COURTS of inquisition were now erected in several countries; but the Spanish inquisition became the most powerful, and the most dreaded of any. Even the kings of Spain themselves, though arbi|trary in all other respects, were taught to dread the power of the lords of the inquisition; and the hor|rid cruelties they exercised, compelled multitudes, who differed in opinion from the Roman catholics, carefully to conceal their sentiments.

THE most zealous of all the popish monks, and those who most implicitly obeyed the church of Rome, were the Dominicans and Franciscans: these, therefore, the pope thought proper to invest with an exclusive right of presiding over, and managing the different courts of inquisition. The friars of those two orders were always selected from the very d••egs of the people, and therefore were not much troubled with punctilios of honour: they were obli|ged, by the rules of their respective orders, to lead very austere lives, which rendered their manners unsocial and brutish, and, of course, the better qua|lified them for the employment of inquisitors.

THE pope now thought proper to give the inqui|sitors the most unlimited powers, as judges dele|gated by him, and immediately representing his person: they were permitted to excommunicate, or sentence to death, whom they thought proper, upon the most slight information of heresy. They were allowed to publish crusades against all whom they deemed heretics, and enter into leagues with sovereign princes, to join those crusades with their forces.

IN 1244, their power was farther increased by the emperor Frederic the Second, who declared himself the protector and friend of all inquisitors, and pub|lished two very cruel edicts, viz.

1. THAT all heretics, who continued obstinate, should be burnt.

2. THAT all heretics, who repented, should be imprisoned for life.

THIS zeal in the emperor for the inquisitors, and the Roman catholic persuasion, arose from a report which had been propagated throughout Europe, that he intended to renounce Christianity, and turn Mahometan; the emperor, therefore attempted, by the heighth of bigotry, to contradict the report, and to shew his attachment to popery by cruelty.

THE officers of the inquisition are, three inqui|sitors, or judges, a fiscal proctor, two secretaries, a magistrate, a messenger, a receiver, a gaoler, an agent of confiscated possessions; several assessors, counsellors, executioners, physicians, surgeons, door-keepers, familiars, and visitors, who are all sworn to secrecy.

THE principal accusation against those who are subject to this tribunal, is heresy, which comprizes all that is spoken, or written, against any of the ar|ticles of the creed, or the traditions of the Romish church. The other articles of accusation are, re|nouncing the Roman catholic persuasion, and be|lieving that persons of any other religion may be saved, or even admitting that the tenets of any but papists are, in the least, reasonable or proper. We shall mention two other things which incur the most severe punishments, and shew the inquisitors, at once, in an absurd and a tyrannical light, viz. To disapprove of any action done by the inquisition, or disbelieve any thing said by an inquisitor.

THE grand article, heresy, comprizes many sub|divisions; and, upon a suspicion of any of these, the party is immediately apprehended: advancing an offensive proposition; failing to impeach others who may advance such; contemning church cere|monies; defacing idols; reading books condemn|ed by the inquisition; lending such books to others to read; deviating from the ordinary practices of the Romish church; letting a year pass without going to confession; eating meat on fast-days; neglecting mass; being present at a sermon preach|ed by an heretic; not appearing when summoned by the inquisition; lodging in the house of, con|tracting a friendship with, or making a present to an heretic; assisting an heretic to escape from confinement, or visiting one in confinement, are all matters of suspicion, and prosecuted accord|ingly. Nay, all Roman catholics were com|manded, under pain of excommunication, to give immediate information, even of their nearest and dearest friends, if they judged them to be what was called heretics, or any ways inclining to heresy.

THOSE who gave the least countenance or as|sistance to protestants, are called fautors, or abettors of heresy, and the accusations against these usually turn upon some of the following points: comfort|ing such as the inquisition have begun to prosecute▪

assisting, or not informing against such, if they should happen to escape; concealing, abetting, ad|vising, or furnishing heretics with money; visiting, or writing to, or sending them subsistence; secret|ing, or burning books and papers, which might serve to convict them.

THE inquisition likewise takes cognizance of such as are accused of being magicians, witches, blas|phemers, soothsayers, wizards, common swearers; and of such who read, or even possess the bible in the common language, the Talmud of ••he Jews, or the Alcoran of the Mahometans.

UPON all occasions the inquisitors carry on their processes with the utmost severity, and punish those who offend them with the most unparalleled cruelty. A protestant has seldom any mercy shewn him; and a Jew, who turns christian, is far from being secure; for if he is known to keep company with another new-converted Jew, a suspicion immediately arises that they pr••vately practise together some Jewish ceremonies; if he keeps company with a person who was lately a protestant, but now professes po|pery▪ they are accused of plotting together; but if he associates with a Roman catholic, an accusation is often laid against him for only pretending to be a papist, and the consequence is, a confiscation of his effects as a punishment for his insincerity, and the loss of his life if he complains of ill usage.

A defence in the inquisition is of ••ittle use 〈…〉〈…〉 prisoner, for a suspicion only is deemed sufficient cause of condemnation, and the greater his wealth the greater his danger. The principal part of the inquisitors cruelties is owing to their ••apacity: they destroy the life to possess th•• property; and, under the pretence of zeal, plunder each obnoxious individual.

A prisoner to the inquisitors is never allowed to s••e the face of his accuser, or of the witnesses a|gainst him, but every method is taken, by threat•• and tortures, to oblige him to accuse himself, and by that means corr••borate their evidence. If the jurisdiction of the inquisition is not fully allowed, vengeance is denounced against such as call it in qu••stion, or if any of its officers are opposed, those 〈◊〉〈◊〉 oppose them are almost certain to be sufferers for their temerity; the maxim of the inquisition being, to strike terror, and awe those who are the objects of its power, into obedience. High birth, distinguished rank, great dignity, or ••minent ••m|ployments, are no protection from its severities; and the lowest officers of the inquisition can make the highest characters tremble.

SUCH are the circumstances which subject a per|son to the rage of the inquisition, and the modes of beginning the process are four in number.

1. To proceed by imputation, or prosecute on common report.

2. To proceed by information of any indifferent person who chuses to impeach another.

3. To found the prosecution on the information of those spies who are regularly retained by the in|quisition.

4. To prosecute on the confession of the pri|soner himself.

WHEN a person is summon••d to appear before the inquisition, the best method unless he i•• sure of escaping by flight•• is immediately to obey the sum|mo••••; for though really innocent, the least delay increases his criminality in the eye of the inquisi|•••• 〈…〉〈…〉 of the••r 〈◊〉〈◊〉 is, that backwardness 〈…〉〈…〉 guilt in the person sum|•••••• 〈…〉〈…〉, it is the same as 〈…〉〈…〉 for should such ever return, the most cruel death would be the certain con|sequence.

THE inquisitors ••••ver forget or forgive; length of time cannot 〈◊〉〈◊〉 their 〈…〉〈…〉 the humbl••st concessions, or most liberal presents obtain a pardo••: they carry the desire of revenge to the grave, and would have both the property and lives of those who have offended them. Hence when a person once ac••••sed to the inquisition, after escaping, is re-taken, he ought seriously to prepare himself for martyrdom, and aim his soul against the fear of death. Every person, in such a situation ought to be composed for the awful occasion, with|out expectation of remedy.

WHEN a pos••••ive accusation is given, the inquisi|tors direct an order under their hands to the execu|tioner, who takes a certain number of familiars with him to assist in the execution. The calamity of a man under such circumstances, can scarce be describ|ed, he being probably seized when surrounded by his family, or in company with his friends. Father, son, brother, sister, husband, wife, must qui••ly submit; none dare resist or even speak; either would subject them to the punishment of the devo|ted victim. No respite is allowed to settle the most important affairs, but the prisoner is instantaneous|ly hurried away.

HENCE we may judge how critically dangerous must be the situation of persons who reside in countries where there is an inquisitorial tribunal; and how carefully cautious all states ought to be who are not cursed with such an arbitrary court, to pre|vent its introduction. In speaking of this subject, an elegant author pathetically says, "How horrid a scene of perfidy and inhumanity? What kind of community must that be, whence gratitude, love, and mutual forbearance with regard to human frail|ties are banished! What must that tribunal be, which obliges parents not only to erase from their minds the remembrance of their own children, to extinguish all those keen sensations of tenderness and aff••••tion wherewith nature inspires them, but even to extend their inhumanity so far as to force them to commence their accusers, and consequently to become the cause of the cruelties inflicted upon them▪ What ideas ought we to form to ourselves 〈…〉〈…〉 tribunal, which obliges children not only to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 every soft impulse of gratitude, love, and res|pect, due to those who gave them birth, but even for•••••• them, and that under the most rigorous pe|nalties, ••o be spies over their parents▪ and to dis|cover to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 set of merciless inquisitors, the crimes, the erro••••▪ ••nd even the little lapses to which they are exposed by human frailty. In a word, a tri|bunal which will not permit relations, when impri|soned in its horrid dungeons, to give e••ch other the succours, or perform the duties which religion enjoins, must be of an infernal stamp. What dis|order and confusion must such conduct give rise to, in a tenderly affectionate family? An expression innocent in itself, and perhaps, but too true, shall, from an indiscreet zeal, or a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of fear, give in|finite uneasiness to a family; shall ruin its peace en|tirely, and perhaps cause one or more of its mem|bers to be the unhappy victims of the most barba|rous of all tribunals. What distraction must ne|cessarily break forth in a house where the husband and wife are at variance, or the children loose and wicked! Will such children scruple to sacrifice a fa|ther, who endeavours to restrain them by his ex|hortations, by reproofs, or paternal corrections? Will not they rather, after plundering his house to support their extravagance and riot, readily deliver up their unhappy parent to all the horrors of a tri|bunal, founded on the blackest injustice? A riot|ous husband, or a loose wife, have an easy oppor|tunity, assisted by means of the persecution in question, to rid themselves of one who is a check to their vices, by delivering him, or her, up to the rigours of the inquisition."

WHEN the inquisitors have taken umbrage against an innocent person, all expedients are used to faci|litate condemnation; false oaths and testimonies, founded on perjury, are directed by the virulence of prejudice to find the accused guilty; and all laws, divine and human, all institutions, moral and political, are sacrificed to bigoted revenge.

WHEN a person accused is taken and imprisoned, his treatment is deplorable indeed. The gaolers first begin by searching him for books or papers which might tend to his conviction, or for instru|ments which might be employed in self-murder, or breaking from the place of confinement. But it is to be observed, that the obvious articles of the search are not the only things taken from a prisoner; for the conscientious gaolers make free with money, rings, buckles, apparel, &c. under various pre|tences, such as, that money or rings may be swallow|ed, to the great detriment of the prisoner's health, the prongs of buckles may be used to take away life; by means of a neckcloth or a pair of garters, a prisoner may hang himself, &c. &c. Thus he is robbed under the plausible pretext of humanity, and used ill through pretended tenderness.

WHEN the pris••ner has been searched under the name of ca••e, and robbed beneath the mask of jus|tice, he is committed to prison by way of security. "He••e▪ says an authentic 〈…〉〈…〉 conveyed to

a dungeon, the sight of which must fill him with horror, torn from his family and friends, who 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not allowed access, or even to send him one consolat••ry letter, or take the least step in his favour in order to prove his innocence. He sees himself instant•••• abandoned to his inflexible judges, to melancholy and despair, and even often to his most inveterate enemies, quite uncertain of his fate. Innocence on such an occasion is a weak 〈◊〉〈◊〉, nothing being easier than to ruin an innocent person."

DEATH is usually the portion of a prisoner, the mildest sentence being imprisonment for life; yet the inquisitors proceed by degrees, at once subtle, slow, and cruel. The gaoler first of all insinuates himself into the prisoner's favour, by pretending to wish him well, and advise him well, and among other hints, falsely kind, tells him to petition for a hearing.

THIS is the worst thing a prisoner can do, for the mere petition is deemed a supposition of guilt, and he is persuaded to it only with a view to entrap him. When he is brought before the consistory, the first demand is, What is your re|quest?

THE prisoner very naturally answers that he would have a hearing.

ONE of the inquisitors replies, your hearing is thi••—confess the truth—conceal nothing, and rely on our mercy.

IN the prisoner makes a confession of any trifling affair, they immediately found an indictment on it: if he is mute, they shut him up without light, or any food but a scanty allowance of bread and wa|ter till he overcomes his obstinacy as they call it; and if he declares he is innocent, they torment him, till he either dies with the torment, or confesses himself guilty.

UPON the re-examinations of such as confess, they continually say, "You have not been sincere, you tell not all—you keep many things concealed, and therefore must be remanded to your dungeon." When th••se who stood mute are called for examina|tion, 〈…〉〈…〉.

AFTER they have verbally answered▪ p••n, ink, and paper are given them, in order to produce a written answer, which it is required shall in every degree coincide with the verbal answer. If the ver|bal and the written answer differ, the prisoners are charged with prevarication, if one contains more than the other, with wishing to conceal certain cir|cumstances; if they both agree, they are accused with premeditated artifice.

WHEN the person impeached is condemned, he is either severely whipped, violently tortured, sent to the gallies, or sentenced to death; and in either case the effects are confiscated. After judgment •• procession is performed to the place of execution▪ which cer••mony is called, an 〈…〉〈…〉▪ or Act of Faith.

THE following is an account of an Auto de Fe, performed at M••drid in the year 1682.

THE officers of the inquisition, preceded by trumpets, kettle-drums, and their bann••••, march|ed on the 30th of May, in cavalcade, to the pa|lace of the great square, where they declared by proclamation, that on the ••0th of June the sen|tence of the prisoners would be put in execution.

THERE had not been a spectacle of this kind at Madrid for several years before, for which reason it was expected by the inhabitants with as much im|patience as a day of the greatest festivity.

ON the day appointed, a prodi••••ious number of

people appeared, dressed as splendid as their respec|tive circumstances would admit. In the great square was raised a high scaffold▪ and thither, from seven in the morning till the evening, were brought criminals of both sexes; all the inqui|sitions in the kingdom sending their prisoners to Madrid.

OF these prisoners twenty men and women, with one renegado Mahometan, were ordered to be burned; fifty Jews and Jewes••es, having never be|fore been imprisoned, and repenting of their crimes, were sentenced to a long confinement, and to wear a yellow cap; and ten others, indicted for bigamy, witchcraft, and other crimes, were sentenced to be whipped, and then sent to the gallies: these last wore large paste-board caps, with inscriptions on them, having a halter about their necks, and torch|es in their hands.

THE whole court of Spain was present on this occasion. The grand inquisitor's chair was placed in a sort of tribunal far above that of the king. The nobles here acted the part of the sheriffs offi|cers in England, leading such criminals as were to be burned, and holding them when fast bound with thick cords: the rest of the criminals were con|ducted by the familiars of the inquisition.

AMONG those who were to suffer was a young Jewess of exquisite beauty, and but seventeen years of age. Being on the same side of the scaffold where the queen was seated, she addressed her, in hopes of obtaining a pardon, in the following pa|thetic speech:

Great queen! will not your royal presence be of some service to me in my miserable condition? Have regard to my youth; and, oh! consider, that I am about to die, for professing a a religion imbibed from my earliest infancy!

Her majesty seemed greatly to pity her distress, but turned away her eyes, as she did not dare to speak a word in behalf of a person who had been declared an heretic.

NOW mass began, in the midst of which the priest came from the altar, placed near the scaffold, and seated himself in a chair prepared for that pur|pose.

THE chief inquisitor then descended from the amphitheatre, dressed in his cope, and having a mitre on his head. After bowing to the altar, he advanced towards the king's balcony, and went up to it, attended by some of his officers, carrying a cross and the gospels, with a book containing the oath by which the kings of Spain oblige themselves to protect the catholic faith, to extirpate heretics, and support, with all their power, the prosecutions and decrees of the inquisition.

ON the inquisitor's approach, and presenting this book to the king, his majesty rose up, bare-headed, and swore to maintain the oath, which was read to him by one of his counsellors: after which the king continued standing till the inquisitor was re|turned to his place; when the secretary of the holy office mounted a sort of pulpit, and administered a like oath to the counsellors and the whole assembly. The mass was begun about twelve at noon, and did not end till nine in the evening, being protract|ed by a proclamation of the sentences of the seve|ral criminals, which were all separately rehearsed aloud one after the other▪

AFTER this, followed the burning of the twen|ty-one men and women, whose intrepidity in suf|fering that horrid death was truly astonishing: some thrust their hands and feet into the flames with the most dauntless fortitude; and all of them yielded to their fate with such resolution, that many of the amazed spectators lamented that such heroic souls had not been more enlightened.

THE king's near situation to the criminals ren|dered their dying groans very audible to him: he could not, however, be absent from this dreadful scene, as it is esteemed a religious one; and his coronation oath obliges him to give a sanction by his presence to all the acts of the tribunal.

ANOTHER Auto de Fe is thus described by the reverend Doctor Gedde, "At the place of execu|tion there are so many stakes set as there are pri|soners to be burned, a large quantity of dry fur••e being set about them.

THE stakes of the protestants, or, as the inqui|sitors call them, the prosessed, are about four yards

high, and have each a small board, whereon the prisoner is seated within half a yard of the top. The professed then go up a ladder betwixt two priests, who attend them the whole day of execu|tion. When they come even with the foremen|tioned board, they turn about to the people, and the priests spend near a quarter of an hour in ex|horting them to be reconciled to the see of Rome. On their refusing, the priests come down, and the executioner ascending, turns the professed from off the ladder upon the seat, chains their bodies fast to the stakes, and leaves them.

THE priests then go up a second time to renew their exhortations, and if they find them ineffectu|al, usually tell them at parting, "That they leave them to the devil, who is standing at their elbow ready to receive their souls, and carry them with him into the flames of hell fire, as soon as they are out of their bodies."

A general shout is then raised, and when the priests get off the ladder, the universal cry is, "Let the dogs' beards be made;" (which implies, singe their beards) this is accordingly performed by means of flaming furzes thrust against their faces with long poles.

THIS barbarity is repeated till their faces are burnt, and is accompanied with loud acclamations. Fire is then set to the furzes, and the criminals are consumed."

NUMEROUS are the martyrs who have borne these rigours with the most exemplary fortitude: and we hope that every protestant, whose fate may expose him to the merciless tyranny of papists, will act consistent with the duty of a christian, when they consider the great rewards that await them.

WHAT we have already said may be applied to inquisitions in general, as well as to that of Spain in particular. The inquisition belonging to Portu|gal is exactly upon a similar plan to that of Spain, having been instituted much about the same time, and put under the same regulations, and the pro+ceedings nearly resemble each oth••r: we shall there|fore introduce an account of it in this place. The house, or rather palace, of the inquisition, is a no|ble edifice. It contains four courts, each about forty feet square, round which are about three hun|dred dungeons, or cells.

THE dungeons on the ground floor are allotted to the lowest class of prisoners, and those on the second story to persons of superior rank. The galleries are built of freestone, and hid from view both within and without by a double wall of about fifty feet high, which greatly increases the gloom, and darkens them exceedingly.

THE whole prison is so extensive, and contains so many turnings and windings, that none but those well acquainted with it can find the way through its various avenues. The apartments of the chief in|quisitor are spacious, and elegant; the entrance is through a large gate, which leads into a court yard, round which are several chambers, and some large saloons for the king, royal family, and the rest of the court to stand and observe the executions during an Auto de Fe.

WITH respect to the dungeons where the prison|ers are confined, they are not only gloomy in them|selves, but as miserably furnished as can be imagin|ed; the only accommodations being a frame of wood by way of bedstead, and a straw bed, mattrass, blankets, sheets, an urinal, wash hand bason, two pitchers, one for clean, the other for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 water, a lamp, and a plate.

A testoon, or seven pence half penny English money is allowed every prisoner daily; and the principal gaoler, accompanied by two other officers, monthly visits every prisoner, to inquire how he would have his allowance laid out. This visit, however, is only a matter of form, for the gaole usually lays out the money as he pleases, and com|monly allows the prisoner daily, viz. a porringe•• of broth, half a pound of beef, a small piece of bread, and a trifling proportion of cheese.

THE above articles are charged to the prisoner at 〈◊〉〈◊〉 rate of seventeen testoons in the mouth, four are allowed for brandy, or wine; two for fruit, making in the whole twenty-three; and the rest of the money, to make up the number of testoons for

the month, are scandalously sunk in the articles of sugar and soap.

SOME, who find their allowance too little, peti|tion the lords inquisitors for a greater portion, when the pe••ition is frequently granted; and in this parti|cular the only ma••k of humanity hath been casually shew••; in all other circumstances they are inhuman, cruel, and severe. They not only exclude the pri|soners from every intercourse with their relations or friends, make them suffer every inclemency of a gaol, or torture them in confinement, but even pro|hibit them from making the least noise by speaking loud, singing psalms or hymns, exclaiming, or even uttering the sighs which affliction naturally heaves from the breast.

GUARDS walk about continually to listen; if the least noise is heard, they call to, and threaten the pri|soner; if the noise is repeated, a severe beating en|sues, as a punishment to what is deemed the offend|ing party, and to intimidate others. As an instance of this take the following fact: a prisoner having a vio|lent cough, one of the guards came and ordered him not to make a noise; to which he replied, that from the violence of his cold, it was not in his power to forbear. The cough increasing, the guard went into the cell, stripped the poor creature nak••d, and beat him so ••••mercifully, that he soon after died of the blows.

IN this inquisition, as in that of Spain, if the prisoners plead their innocence, they are condemn|ed ••s obdurate, and their effects embezzled; if ••••ey pl••ad guilty, they are sentenced on their own confession, and their effects confiscated of course; and if they are suffered to escape with their lives, which is but seldom the case) as penitent crimi|nals who have voluntarily accused themselves, they dare not reclaim their effects, as that would bring on them an accusation of being hypocritical and relax|ed penitents, when a most cruel death would be the certain consequence.

A prisoner sometimes passes months without knowing of what he is accused, or having the least idea when he is to be tried. The gaoler at length informs him, that he must petition for a trial. This ceremony being gone through, he is taken bare|headed for examination. When they come to the door of the tribunal, the gaoler knocks three times, to give the judges notice of their approach. A bell is rung by one of the judges, when an attend|ant opens the door, admits the prisoner, and accom|modates him with a stool.

THE prisoner is then ordered by the president to kneel down, and lay his right hand upon a book, which is presented to him close shut. This being complied with, the following question is put to him: Will you promise to conceal the secrets of the holy office, and to speak the truth?

I•• he answers in the negative, he is remanded to his ce••••, and cruelly treated. If he answers in the affirmative, he is ordered to be again seated, and the examination proceeds; when the president asks a variety of questions, and the clerk minutes both them and the answers.

AFTER the examination is closed, the bell is again rung, the gaoler appears, and the prisoner is order|ed to withdraw, with this exhortation; Tax your memory, recollect all the sins you have ever com|mitted, and when you are again brought here, com|municate them to the holy office.

THE gaoler and attendants being apprized that the prisoner hath made an ingenuous confession, and readily answered every question, make him a low bow, and treat him with an affected kindness, as a reward for his candour.

IN a few days he is brought to a second exami|nation, with the same formalities as before. It is then demanded of him, If he has taken a serious review of his past life, and will divulge its various secrets, and the crimes and follies into which he has run at different times. If he refuses to confess any thing, many ensnaring questions are put to him, and the arts of casuistry are exhausted to draw some secret from him. But if he accuses himself of any crimes or follies, they are written down by the se|cretary, and a process extracted from them. The inquisitors often over-reach prisoners, by promising the greatest lenity, and even to restore their liberty, if they will accuse themselves. The unhappy per|sons, who are in their power, frequently fall into

this snare, and are sacrificed to their own simplicity, and ill-placed confidence. Instances have been known of some, who relying on the faith of the judges, and believing their fallacious promises, have accused themselves of what they were totally innocent, in expectation of obtaining their liberty speedily; and thus, being duped by the inquisitors, they became martyrs to their own folly, and suffer|ed death for fictitious transgressions.

ANOTHER artifice used by the inquisitors is this: if a prisoner has too much resolution to accuse him|self, and too much sense to be ensnared by their so|phistry, they proceed thus: a copy of an indict|ment against the prisoner is given him, in which, among many trivial accusations, he is charged with the most enormous crimes, of which human na|ture is capable. This, of course, rouzes his tem|per, and he exclaims against such falsities. He is then asked which of the crimes he can deny? He naturally singles out the most atrocious, and begins to express his abhorrence of them, when the indict|ment being snatched out of his hand, the president says, "By your denying only those crimes which you mention, you implicitly confess the rest, and we shall therefore proceed accordingly."

THE inquisitors make a ridiculous affectation of equity, by pretending that the prisoner may be in|dulged with a counsellor, if he chuses to demand one. Such a request is sometimes made, and a counsellor appointed, but upon these occasions, as the trial itself is a mockery of justice, so the coun|sellor is a mere cypher; for he is not permitted to say any thing that might offend the inquisitor, or to advance a syllable that might benefit the prisoner. Amazing profligacy, to turn that to a farce, which ought to be reverenced as a superior virtue.

FROM what has been said, it is evident, that a prisoner to the inquisitors is reduced to the sad ne|cessity of defending himself against accusers he does not know, and of answering to the evidence of witnesses he does not see. The only person he is permitted to have a sight of upon his trial, exclu|sive of the judges and secretary, is the fiscal, who acts officially as the ostensible accuser, from the collected information of others. A desire of be|ing informed of the real accuser's name, or to see the actual witnesses, avail nothing, those things he is told are always kept secret. Thus he is continu|ed in suspence respecting his fate, and frequently in|terrogated, perhaps, for years together, before his trial is finally concluded. When that fatal time comes, if he is condemned to die, death is deferred for a considerable time. To put him out of his misery immediately would be too great a favour, and prevent the inquisitors from indulging their sangui|nary dispositions with other sufferings which they in|tend to inflict. They begin by putting him to the torture, under the pretence of making the poor wretch discover his accomplices. For this purpose the tortures are various, and the torments inflicted excruciating to the last degree. Well might a late writer, speaking of these cruelties, exclaim, "O, that I was able to give some faint idea of that variety of tortures which the miserable victims are here forced to suffer; but no language can represent such a complicated scene of horrors. It is utterly im|possible for any words to describe which of them is the most cruel and inhuman. Every one is so ex|quisite in its kind a•• to surpass all imagination. What detestable monsters then must those judges be, who are the inventors, and perpetrators of such misery? They are shaped, it is true, like other men, but surely they seem to have a different kind of souls. They appear as little affected with the groans and agonies of their fellow-creatures as the cords, chains, racks, and tortures, which are ap|plied to their writhing limbs. The hearts of these ecclesiastical butchers are grown callous, and, like those of common butchers, are so inured to the shedding of blood, and horrid sight of mangled carcasses, as to have lost all the impressions of sen|sibility, and every touch and feeling of humanity. Perpetual scenes of horror and distress become so familiar to their minds, that what would rend the very heart-strings of some men, make no more impression on their's than on a rock of adamant. Indeed, without such a fiend-like ••emper, it would be impossible for any man to act the part of an in|quisitor.

THE inquisitors allow the torture to be used only three times, but at those three it is so severely in|flicted, that the prisoner either dies under it, or continues always after it a cripple, and suffers the severest pains upon every change of weather. We

shall give an ample description of the severe tor|ments occasioned by the torture, from the account of one who suffered it the three respective times, but happily survived the cruelties he underwent.

First Time of Torturing.

ON refusing to comply with the iniquitous de|mands of the inquisitors, by confessing all the crimes they thought proper to charge him with, he was immediately conveyed to the torture room, where no light appeared but what two candles gave. That the cries of the sufferers might not be heard by the other prisoners, this room is lined with a kind of quilting, which covers all the crevices and deadens the sound.

GREAT was the prisoner's horror on entering this infernal place, when suddenly he was surrounded by six wretches, who, after preparing the tortures, stripped him naked to his drawers. He was then laid upon his back on a kind of stand, elevated a few feet from the floor.

THEY began the operation by putting an iron collar round his neck, and a ring to each foot, which fastened him to the stand. His limbs being thus stretched out, they wound two ropes round each arm, and two round each thigh; which ropes be|ing passed under the scaffold, through holes made for that purpose, were all drawn tight at the same instant of time, by four of the men, on a given signal.

IT is easy to conceive that the pains which imme|diately succeeded were intolerable; the ropes which were of a small size, ••ut through the prisoner's flesh to the bone, making the blood gush out at eight different places thus bound at a time. As the prisoner persisted in not making any confession of what the inquisitors required, the ropes were drawn in this manner four times successively.

IT is to be observed, that a physician and surgeon attended, and often felt his temples, in order to judge of the danger he might be in; by which means his tortures were for a small space suspended, that he might have sufficient opportunity of reco|vering his spirits, to sustain each ensuing torture.

IN all this extremity of anguish, while the ten|der frame is tearing, as it were, in pieces, while at every pore it feels the sharpest pangs of death, and the agonizing soul is just ready to burst forth, and quit ••ts wretched mansion, the ministers of the in|quisition have the obduracy of heart to look on without emotion, and calmly to advise the poor distracted creature, to confess his imputed guilt, in doing which they tell him he may obtain a free pardon, and receive absolution. All this, howe|ver, was ineffectual with the prisoner, whose mind was strengthened by a sweet consciousness of inno|cence, and the divine consolation of religion.

WHILE he was thus suffering, the physician and surgeon were so barbarously unjust as to declare, that if he died under the torture, he would be guil|ty, by his obstinacy, of self-murder. In short, at the last time of the ropes's being drawn tight, he grew so exceedingly weak, by the circulation of his blood being stopped, and the pains he endured, that he fainted away; upon which he was unloosed, and carried back to his dungeon.

Second Time of Torturing.

THE barbarous savages of the inquisition, find|ing that all the torture inflicted, as above described, instead of extorting a discovery from the prisoner, only served the more fervently to excite his suppli|cations to heaven for patience and power to perse|vere in truth and integrity, were so inhuman, six weeks after, as to expose him to another kind of torture, more severe, if possible, than the former; the manner of inflicting which was as follows: they forced his arms backwards, so that the palms of his hands were turned outward behind him; when, by means of a rope that fastened them toge|ther at the wrists, and which was turned by an en|gine, they drew them by degrees, nearer each other, in such a manner that the back of each hand touch|ed, and stood exactly parallel to the other. In con|sequence of this violent contortion, both his shoul|ders became dislocated, and a considerable quantity of blood issued from his mouth. This torture was repeated thrice; after which he was again taken to the dungeon, and put into the hands of the phy|sician and surgeon, who, in setting the dislocated bones, put him to the most exquisite pain.

Third Time of Torturing.

TWO months after the second torture, the pri|soner, being a little recovered, was again ordered to the torture room; and there, for the last time, made to undergo another kind of punishment, which was inflicted twice without any intermission. The executioner fastened a thick iron chain twice round his body, which crossing upon his stomach, terminated at his wrists. They then placed him with his back against a thick board, at each extre|mity whereof was a pulley, through which there run a rope that catched the ends of the chain at his wrists.

THE executioner then stretching the end of this rope, by means of a roller placed at some distance behind him, pressed or bruised his stomach in pro|portion as the ends of the chain were drawn tighter. They tortured him in this manner to such a degree, that his wrists, as well as his shoulders, were quite dislocated. They were, however, soon set by the surgeons; but the barbarians, not yet satisfied with this series of cruelty, made him immediately un|dergo the like ••••rture a second time; which he sus|tained (though if possible attended with keener pains) with equal constancy and resolution.

AFTER this he was again remanded to his dun|geon, attended by the surgeon to dress his bruises, and adjust the parts dislocated; and here he conti|nued till their Auto de Fe, or gaol delivery, when he was happily discharged.

FROM the before-mentioned relation, it may ea|sily be judged what dreadful agony the sufferer must have laboured under, at being so frequently put to the torture. Most of his limbs were disjointed; and so much was he bruised and exhausted, as to be unable, for some weeks, to lift his hand to his mouth; and his body became greatly swelled from the inflammation caused by such frequent dislo|cations. After his discharge he felt the effects of this cruelty for the remainder of his life, being fre|quently seized with thrilling and excruciating pains, to which he had never been subject, till after he had the misfortune to fall under the merciless and bloody lords of the inquisition.

FEMALES who fall into the hands of the inquisi|tors, have not the least favour shewn them on ac|count of the softness of their sex, but are tortur|ed with as much severity as the male prisoners, with the additional mortification of having the most shocking indecencies added to the most savage bar|barities.

IF the above-mentioned modes of torturing force a confession from the prisoner, he is remanded to his horrid dungeon, and left a prey to the melan|choly of his situation, to the anguish arising from what he has suffered, and to the dreadful ideas of future barbarities. If he refuses to confess, he is, in the same manner, remanded to his dungeon, but a stratagem is used to draw from him what the tor|ture fails to do. A companion is allowed to attend him, under the pretence of waiting upon, and comforting his mind till his wounds are healed: this person, who is always selected for his cunning, insinuates himself into the good graces of the pri|soner, laments the anguish he feels, sympathizes with him, and, taking advantage of the hasty ex|pressions forced from him by pain, does all he can to dive into his secrets.

SOMETIMES this companion pretends to be a prisoner like himself, and imprisoned for similar charges. This is to draw the unhappy person into a mutual confidence, and persuade him in unbosom|ing his grief, to betray his private thoughts.

THESE snares frequently succeed, as they are more alluring by being glossed over with the ap|pearance of friendship, sympathy, pity, and every tender passion. In fine, if the prisoner cannot be found guilty, he is either tortured, or harrassed to death, though a few have sometimes had the good fortune to be discharged, but not without having, first of all, suffered the most dreadful•• cruelties. If he is found guilty, all his effects are confiscated, and he is condemned to be whipped, imprisoned for life, sent to the gallies, or put to death. These sentences are put in execution at an Auto de Fe, or gaol delivery, which is not held annually, or at any stated periods, but sometimes once in two, three, or even four years.

AFTER having mentioned the barbarities with

which the persons of prisoners are treated by the inquisitors, we shall proceed to recount the severity of their proceedings against books.

AS soon as a book is published, it is carefully read by some of the familiars belonging to the in|quisition. These wretched critics are too ignorant to have taste, too bigoted to search for truth, and too malicious to relish beauties. They scrutinize, not for the merits, but for the defects of an author, and pursue the slips of his pen with unremitting diligence. Hence they read with prejudice, judge with partiality, pursue errors with avidity, and strain that which is innocent into an offensive meaning.

THEY misunderstand, misapply, confound, and pervert the sense; and when they have gratified the malignity of their disposition, charge their blunders upon the author, that a prosecution may be founded upon their false conceptions, and designed mis|interpretations.

THE most trivial charge causes the censure of a book: but it is to be observed, that the censure is of a three-fold nature, viz.

1. WHEN the book is wholly condemned.

2. WHEN the book is partly condemned, that is, when certain passages are pointed out as exception|able, and ordered to be expunged.

3. WHEN the book is deemed incorrect; the meaning of which is, that a few words or expres|sions displease the inquisitors. These, therefore, are ordered to be altered, and such alterations go under the name of corrections.

FROM what has been said it is evident, that the inquisitors check the progress of learning, impede the increase of arts, nip genius in the bud, destroy the national taste, and continue the cloud of ignor|ance over the minds of the people.

A catalogue of condemned books is annually published under the three different heads of cen|sures, already mentioned, and being printed on a very large sheet of paper, is hung up in the most public and conspicuous places. After which, peo|ple are obliged to destroy all such books as come under the first censure, and to keep none belong|ing to the other two censures, unless the exceptional passages have been expunged, and the corrections made, as in either case disobedience would be of the most fatal consequence: for the possessing or read|ing the proscribed books are deemed very atrocious crimes.

THE publisher of such books is usually ruined in his circumstances, and sometimes obliged to pass the remainder of his life in the inquisition.

Instances of the Barbarities exercised by the INQUISITIONS of Spain and Portugal, on various Persons, upon several Occasions, and at diff••rent Times, from the most ge|nuine Historians, and the most authenti|cated Records.

I. FRANCIS ROMANES, a native of Spain, being of a mercantile turn of mind, was employed by the merchants of Antwerp, to transact some business for them at Breme. He had been educated in the Romish persuasion, but going one day into a protestant church, he was struck with the truths which he heard, and beginning to perceive the errors of popery, he determined to search far|ther into the matter.

READING the sacred scriptures attentively, and perusing the writings of some protestant divines, he plainly perceived how erroneous the principles were he had formerly embraced; and renounced the impositions of popery for the doctrines of the reformed church, in which religion appeared in all its genuine purity.

DETERMINING to give over worldly thoughts, and think of his eternal salvation, he studied reli|gious truths more than trade, and purchased books rather than merchandize, convinced that the riches of the body are trifling to those of the soul.

HE now resigned his agency to the merchants of Antwerp, giving them an account at the same time

of his conversion; and then resolving, if possible, to convert his parents, he went to Spain for that purpose. But the Antwerp merchants writing to the inquisitors, he was seized upon, imprisoned for some time, and then condemned to be burnt as an heretic.

HE was led to the place of execution in a gar|ment painted over with devils, and had a paper mitre put upon his head, by way of derision. As he passed by a wooden cross, one of the priests bade him kneel to it; but he absolutely refused so to do, saying, It is not for christians to worship wood.

BEING placed upon a pile of wood the fire quick|ly reached him, when he lifted up his head sud|denly; the priests thinking he meant to recant, ordered him to be taken down. Finding, however, that they were mistaken, and that he still retained his constancy, he was placed again upon the pile, where, as long as he had life and voice remaining, he kept repeating the se••enth psalm.

II. AT St. Lucar in Spain resided a carver named Rochus, whose principal business was to make images of saints and other popish idols. Be|coming, however, convinced of the errors of the Romish persuasion, he embraced the protestant faith, left off carving images, and for subsistence followed the business of a seal engraver only. He had, however, retained one image of the virgin Mary for a sign; when an inquisitor passing by, asked if he would sell it; Rochus mentioned a price; the inquisitor objected to it, and offered half the mo|ney: Rochus replied, I would rather break it to pieces than take such a trifle. "Break it to pie|ces!" said the inquisitor, "break it to pieces if you dare!"

ROCHUS being provoked at this expression, im|mediately snatched up a chissel, and cut off the nose of the image. This was sufficient, the inquisitor went away in a rage, and soon after sent to have him apprehended. In vain did he plead that what he had defaced was his own property, and that if it was not proper to do as he would with his own goods, it was not proper for the inquisitor to bar|gain for the image in the way of trade. Nothing, however, availed him; his fate was decided: he was condemned to be burnt: and the sentence was executed accordingly.

III. DOCTOR Cacalla, his brother Francis, and his sister Blanch, were burnt at Valladolid, for ha|ving spoken against the inquisitors.

IV. AT Seville, a gentlewoman with her two daughters and her niece, were apprehended on ac|count of their professing the protestant religion. They were all put to the torture: and when that was over, one of the inquisitors sent for the young|est daughter, pretended to sympathize with her, and pity her sufferings; then binding himself with a solemn oath not to betray her, he said, "If yo•• will disclose all to me, I promise you I will pro|cure the discharge of your mother, sister, cousin, and yourself.

MADE confident by his oath, and intrapped by his promises, she revealed the whole of the tenets they professed; when the perjured wretch, instead of acting as he had sworn▪ immediately ordered her to be put to the rack, saying, "Now you have reveal|ed so much, I will make you reveal more." Re|fusing, however, to say any thing further, they were all ordered to be burnt, which sentence was execu|ted at the next Auto de Fe.

V. THE keeper of the castle of Triano, belong|ing to the inquisitors of Seville, happened to be of a disposition more mild and humane than is usual with persons of his situation. He gave all the in|dulgence he could to the prisoners, and shewed them every favour in his power with as much se|crecy as possible. At length, however, the inqui|sitors became acquainted with his kindness, and determined to punish him severely for it, that other gaoler•• might be de••erred from shewing the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 traces of that compassion which ought to glow in the breast of every human being. With this view they superceded, threw him into a dismal dungeon, and used him with such dreadful barbarity that he lost his senses.

HIS deplorable situation, however, procured him no favour, for frantic as he was, they brought hi•• from prison at an Auto de Fe to the usual place of punishment, with a sambenito (or garment worn by

criminals) on, and a rope about his neck. His sentence was then read, and ran thus: that he should be placed on an ass, led through the city, receive two hundred stripes, and then be condemn|ed six years to the gallies.

THE poor frantic wretch, just as they were about to begin his punishment, suddenly sprung from the back of the ass, broke the cords that bound him, snatched a sword from one of the guards, and dan|gerously wounded an officer of the inquisition. Being overpowered by multitudes, he was prevent|ed from doing farther mischief, seized, bound more securely to the ass, and punished according to his sentence. But so inexo••able were the inquisitors, that for the rash effects of his madness, an ad|ditional four years was added to his slavery in the gallies.

VI. A maid servant to another gaoler belonging to the inquisition was accused of humanity and de|tected in bidding the prisoners keep up their spirits. For these heinous crimes, as they were called, she was publicly whipped, banished her native place for ten years, and what is worse, had her forehead branded by means of red hot irons, with these words, A favourer and aider of heretics.

VII. JOHN Pontic, a Spaniard by birth, a gentle|man by education, and protestant by persuasion, was, principally on account of his great estate, ap|prehended by the inquisitors, when the following charges were exhibited against him.

1. THAT he had said he abhorred the idolatry of worshipping the host.

2. THAT he shunned going to mass.

3. THAT he asserted the merits of Jesus Christ alone was a full justification for a christian.

4. THAT he declared there was no purgatory; and,

5. THAT he affirmed the pope's absolution not ••o be of any value.

ON these charges his effects were confiscated to the use of the inquisitors, and his body was burnt to ashes to gratify their revenge.

VIII. JOHN Gonsal••o was originally a priest, but having embraced the reformed religion, he was now seized by the inquisitors, as were his mother, brother, and two sisters. Being condemned, they were led to execution, where they sung part of the 106th psalm.

AT the place of execution they were ordered to say the creed, which they immediately complied with, but coming to these words, "Th•• holy ca|tholic church," they were commanded to add the monosyllables "of Rome," which absolutely re|fusing, one of the inquisitors said, Put an end to their lives directly; when the executioners obeyed, and strangled them immediately.

IX. FOUR protestant women being seized upon at Seville, were tortured, and in process of time ordered for execution. On the way thither they began to sing psalms; but the officers of the inqui|sition, thinking that the words of the psalm reflect|ed on themselves, put gags into all their mouths, ••o make them silent. They were then burnt, and the houses where they resided were ordered to be razed to the ground.

X. FERDINANDO, a protestant schoolmaster, was apprehended by order of the inquisition, for instruct|ing his pupils in the principles of protestantism; and after being severely tortured, was burnt.

XI. A monk, who had abjured the errors of po|pery, was imprisoned at the same time as the above Ferdinando; but through the ••ear of death, and to procure mercy, he said he was willing to embrace his former communion. Ferdinando, hearing of this, got an opportunity to speak to him, reproach|ed him with his weakness, and threatened him with eternal pardition. The monk, sensible of his crime, returned to, promised to continue in the protestant faith, and declared to the inquisitors that he so|lemnly renounced his intended recantation. Sen|tence

of death was therefore passed upon him, and he was burnt at the same time as Ferdinando.

XII. JULIANO, a Spanish Roman catholic, on travelling into Germany, became a convert to the protestant religion.

BEING zealous for the faith he had embraced, Juliano undertook a very arduous task, which was to convey from Germany into his own country, a great number of bibles, concealed in casks, and packed up like Rhenish wine. This important commission he succeeded in so far as to distribute the books. A pretended protestant, however, who had purchased one of the bibles, betrayed him, and laid an account of the whole affair before the in|quisition.

JULIANO was immediately seized upon, and strict inquiry being made for the respective purchasers of these bibles, eight hundred persons were appre|hended upon the occasion. They were all indiscri|minately tortured, and then most of them were sen|tenced to various punishments. Juliano was burnt, twenty were roasted upon spits, several imprisoned for life, some were publicly whipped, many sent to the gallies, and a few discharged.

XIII. JOHN Leon, a protestant taylor of Spain, travelled to Germany, and from thence to Geneva, where hearing that a great number of English pro|testants were returning to their native country, he, and some more Spaniards, determined to go with them. The Spanish inquisitors being apprized of their intentions, sent a number of familiars so ex|peditiously in pursuit of them, that they overtook them at a sea-port in Zealand, one of the United Provinces, (which was then under the jurisdiction of Spain) just before they had embarked. Having thus succeeded in their commission, the poor pri|soners were heavily fettered, handcuffed, gagged, and had their heads and necks covered with a kind of iron net work. In this miserable condition they were conveyed to Spain, thrown into a dismal dun|geon, almost famished with hunger, barbarously tortured, and then cruelly burnt.

XIV. A young lady having been put into a con|vent, absolutely refused to take the veil, or turn nun. On leaving the cloister she embraced the protestant faith, which being known to the inquisitors, she was apprehended, every method used to draw her back again to popery. This proving ineffectual, her in|exorable judges condemned her to the flames, and she was burnt according to her sentence, persisting in her faith to the last.

XV. CHRISTOPHER Losada, an eminent physician, and learned philosopher, became extremely obnoxi|ous to the inquisitors, on account of exposing the errors of popery, and professing the ••enets of pro••testantism. For these reasons he was apprehended, imprisoned, and racked; but those severities not bringing him to confess the Roman catholic church to be the only true church, he was sentenced to the fire; the flames of which he bore with exemplary patience, and resigned his soul to that Creator by whom it was bestowed.

XVI. ARIAS, a monk of St. Isidore's monastery at Seville, was a man of great abilities, but of a vicious disposition. He sometimes pretended to forsake the errors of the church of Rome, and be|come a protestant, and soon after turned Roman catholic. Thus he continued a long time waver|ing between both persuasions, till God thought proper touch his heart, and shew him the great danger of inconstancy in religious matters. He now became a true protestant, and bewailed his former errors with contrition. The sincerity of his conversion being known, he was seized by the offi|cers of the inquisition, severely tortured, and after|wards burnt at an Auto de Fe.

XVII. MARIA de Coceicao, a young lady who resided with her brother at Lisbon, was taken up by the inquisitors, and ordered to be put to the rack. The exquisite torments she felt staggered her resolution, and she fully confessed the charges against her.

THE cords were immediately slackened, and she was re-conducted to her cell, where she remained till she had recovered the use of her limbs, and was then brought again before the tribunal, and order|ed to ratify her confession, and sign it. This she absolutely refused to do, telling them, that what she had said was forced from her by the excessive

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pain she underwent. Incensed at this reply, the inquisitors ordered her again to be put to the rack, when the weakness of nature once more prevailed, and she repeated her former confession. She was immediately remanded to her cell till her wounds were again healed, when being a third time brought before the inquisitors, they in a stern manner or|dered her to sign her first and second confessions. She answered as before; but added, "I have twice given way to the frailty of the flesh, and perhaps may, while on the rack, be weak enough to do so again; but depend upon it, if you torture me an hundred times, as soon as I am released from the rack I shall deny what was extorted from me by pain." The inquisitors ordered her to be racked a third time; and, during this last trial, she ex|ceeded even her own expectations; bore the tor|ments inflicted with the utmost fortitude, and could not be persuaded to answer any of the questions put to her. As her courage and constancy increased, the inquisitors imagined that she would deem death a glorious martyrdom, and therefore, to disappoint her expectations, they condemned her to a severe whipping through the public streets, and to a ten years banishment.

XVIII. JANE Bohorquia, a lady of a noble fa|mily in Seville, was a••prehended on the information of her sister, who had been tortured, and burnt for professing the protestan•• religion, While on the ••ack, through extremity of pain, that young lady confessed that she had frequently discoursed with her sister concerning protestantism, and upon this e••torted confession was Jane Bohorquia seized and imprisoned. Being pregnant at the beginning, they let her remain tolerably quiet till she was delivered, when they immediately took away the child, and p••t it to nurse, that it might be brought up a Ro|man catholic.

THE lady was not perfectly recovered from the weakness caused by her labour, when she was or|dered to be racked, which was done with such se|ve••ity, that she expired a week after of the wou•••••• and bruises she received. Upon this occasion ••he inquisitors affected some remorse, and, in one of the printed acts of the inquisition, which they always publish at an Auto de Fe, they thus mention this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 lady:

JANE Bohorquia was found dead in prison; af|ter which, upon reviving her prosecution, the in|quisitors discovered that she was innocent.—Be it therefore known, that no farther prosecutions shall be carried on against her, and that her effects, which were confiscated, shall be given to the heirs at law. Thus have the lords of the holy office of inquisition generously restored to her innocence, reputation, and estate. Strange inconsistency! to take the pro|perty, and torture the person before conviction of guilt, and then to compliment themselves for mo|deration, in returning what they had no right to seize, and forgiving one, who, by their own ac|knowledgement, had never offended them. One sentence, however, in the above ridiculous passage, wants explanation, viz. That no farther prosecu|tion shall be carried on against her. This alludes to the absurd custom of prosecuting, and burning the bones of the dead: for when a prisoner dies in the inquisition, the process continues the same as if he was living; the bones are deposited in a chest, and if a sentence of guilt is passed, they are brought out at the next Auto de Fe; the sentence is read against them with as much solemnity as against a living prisoner, and they are at length committed to the ••••ames. In a similar manne•• are prosecutions carried on against prisoners who escape; and when their persons are far beyond the reach of the in|quisitors, they are burnt in effigy.

XIX. DR. Isaac Orobio, a learned physician, having beaten a Moorish servant for stealing, was accused by him of professing Judaism. Without considering the apparent malice of the servant, the inquisitors seized the master upon the charge. He was kept three years in prison before he had the least intimation of what he was to undergo, and then suffered the following six modes of torture:

1. A 〈…〉〈…〉 put on him▪ and then drawn so 〈…〉〈…〉 ••irculation of his blood was nea••ly stoppe••, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the breath almost pressed out of his body. A••••er this the strings were sud|denly loose••ed, when the air forcing its way hastily into his stomach, and the blood rushing into its channels, he suffered the most incredible pains.

2. HIS thumbs were tied with small cords so hard that the blood gushed from under the nails.

3. HE was seated on a bench with his back against a wall, wherein small iron pullies were fixed. Ropes being fastened to several parts of his body and limbs, were passed through the pullies, and being suddenly drawn with great violence, his whole frame was forced into a distorted heap.

4. AFTER having suffered for a considerable time the pains of the last mentioned position, the seat was snatched away, and he was left suspended against the wall in the most excruciating misery.

5. A little instrument with five knobs, and which went with springs, being placed near his face, he suddenly received five blows on the cheek, that put him to such pain as caused him to faint away.

6. THE executioners fastened ropes round his wrists, and then drew them about his body. Pla|cing him on his back with his feet agains•• the wall, they pulled with the utmost violence, till the cords had penetrated to the bone.

THE last torture he suffered three different times, and then lay 70 days before his wounds were healed. He was afterwards banished, and in his exile wrote the account of his sufferings, from which we have extracted the foregoing particulars.

XX. AN excellent penman of Toledo, in Spain▪ and a protestant, was fond of producing fine speci|mens of writings, and having them framed, to adorn the different apartments of his house. Among other curious examples of penmanship was a large piece, containing the Lord's prayer, creed, and ten com|mandments, thrown into verse, and finely written. This piece, which hung in a conspicuous part of the house, was one day seen by a person belonging to the inquisition, who observed that the versification of the commandments was not according to the church of Rome, but according to the protestant church, for the protestants retain the whole of the commandments as they are found in the bible, but the papists omit that part of the second command|ment which forbids the worship of images. The inquisition soon had information of the whole, and this ingenious gentleman was seized▪ prosecuted, and burnt, only for ornamenting his house with a specimen of his skill and piety.

The Trial and cruel Sufferings of Mr. ISAAC MARTIN.

AS Mr. Martin's case is singular in itself, and amply explained, and as it was published under the immediate sanction of government, and Mr. Martin himself patronized by the highest cha|racters both in church and state, we shall minutely enter into the particulars of it.

ABOUT Lent, in the year 1714, Mr. Martin ar|rived at Malaga, with his wife, and four children. On the examination of his baggage, his bible and some other books were seized, and effectually lo•••• to him.

IN about three months time he was accused of being a Jew. for these curious reasons, that his own name was Isaac, and one of his sons was named Abraham.

WHEN he heard of the accusation, which was laid in the Bishop's court, he informed the English consul of it, who said it was nothing but the ma|lice of some of the Irish papists, whom he advised him always carefully to shun. The clergy sent to Mr. Martin's neighbours to know their opinion concerning him: the result of which inquiry 〈◊〉〈◊〉 this; We believe him not to be a Jew, but 〈◊〉〈◊〉 heretic.

THESE things convinced Mr. Martin that he had enemies at Malaga; but their malice did not ap|pear formidable for some years. Being continually p••stered by priests, particularly those of the Irish nation, in order to change his religion, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 deter|mined to dispose of what he had, and retire from a place which was become so disagreeable.

AS soon as his resolution to leave Malaga had taken wind, at about nine o'clock at night a late hour in that country he heard a knocking at his door.

MR. Martin demanded who was there? The persons without said they wanted to enter. He de|sired they would come again the next morning; but they replied, if he would not open the door they would break it open; and they were as good as their word, for it flew off the hinges while they were speaking.

AS soon as the barrier was removed, about 15 persons entered, consisting of a commissioner, with several priests and familiars belonging to the inqui|sition. Mr. Martin would fain have gone to the English consul; but they told him the consul had nothing to do in the matter, and then said, where are your beads and fire-arms? To which he repli|ed, I am an English protestant, and as such car••y no private arms, nor make use of beads.

HAVING taken away his watch, money, and other things, they carried him to the bishop's pri|son, and put on him a heavy pair of fetters. His distressed family was, at the same time, turned out of doors till the house was stripped; and when they had taken every thing away, they returned the key to his wife, that she and her children might so|lace themselves between the bare walls.

FOUR days after his commitment, Mr. Martin was told he must be sent to Grenada to be tried: he earnestly begged to see his wife and children before he went, but this was cruelly denied him.

BEING doubly fettered, he was mounted on a mule, and set out towards Grenada. By the way, the mule threw him upon a rocky part of the road, and almost broke his back. He was three days on the journey, as it is 72 miles of very rugged road from Malaga to Grenada.

ON his arrival at Grenada, he was detained at an inn till it was dark, for they never put any one into the inquisition during day-light. At night, Mr. Martin was taken to the inquisition, shewn up one pair of stairs, and led along a range of galleries till he arrived at a dungeon, which the gaoler un|locked, and staid with him till the under gaoler f••tched a lamp, and the things brought from Ma|laga by the carrier, which consisted of an old bed, a few clothes, and a box of books.

THE latter the gaoler nailed up, and said, they must remain in that state till the lords of the inqui|sition chose to inspect them, for prisoners were not allowed to read books.

THE gaoler then took an inventory of every thing which Mr. Martin had about him, even to his very buttons; and having asked him a great number of frivolous questions, he, at length, gave him these orders: "You must observe as great si|lence here, as if you were dead; you must not speak, nor whistle, nor sing, nor make any noise that can be heard; and if you hear any body cry, or make a noise, you must be still, and say nothing, upon pain of 200 lashes."

MR. Martin said he could not always be upon the bed, and asked if he might not have liberty to walk about the room; the gaoler replied he might, but it must be very softly. After having given him some wine, bread, and half a dozen walnuts, the gaoler left him till the morning.

IT was frosty weather at the time of Mr. Mar|tin's imprisonment, so that he lay extremely cold; for the walls of the dungeon were between two and three feet thick, the floor was bricked, and a great deal of wind came through a hole of about a foot in length, and five inches in breadth, which served as a window.

THE next morning the gaoler came to light his lamp, and bade him light a fire in order to dress his dinner. He then took him to a turn, or such a wheel as is usually found at the doors of convents, where a person on the other side, whom you cannot see, turns your provisions round to you. He had then given him, half a pound of mutton, two pounds of bread, some kidney beans, a bunch of raisins, and a pint of wine.

THIS was the allowance for three days. He had likewise delivered to him for use, two pounds of charcoal, an earthen stove, a pipkin, some plates, a pitcher, an urinal, a broom, three baskets; one for bread, meat, and greens; a second for charcoal, and the other for dirt; and a wooden spoon.

IN a week's time Mr. Martin was ordered to an

audience: he followed the gaoler, and coming to a large room found a man sitting between two cruci|fixes; and another with a pen in his hand, who was, as he afterwards learned, the secretary.

THE person between the two crucifixes was the chief lord inquisitor; he seemed about sixty years of age▪ and was very lean. As soon as he saw Mr. Martin, he ordered him to sit down upon a little stool that fronted him, when the follow|ing examination took place, which we shall mark by the signatures I. and M. the first letter implying Inquis••or, and the last Martin, agreeable to the respective questions and answers.

I.

WHAT was you brought here for?

M.

MY lord, I don't know.

I.

CAN you speak Spanish?

M.

I can speak Spanish, but not so well as En|glish or French. If you please to send for an Irish or French priest, I should be glad; for I am afraid I have not Spanish enough to answer your lordship in some things that you may demand of me.

I.

I find you speak Spanish enough; but what have you done? What is your name? What coun|tryman are you? What religion are you of?

M.

MY lord, I don't know what I have done. My name is Isaac Martin; I am an Englishman, and a protestant.

I.

WILL you take an oath that you will answer the truth to what shall be demanded of you?

M.

YES, my lord, I will.

I.

WELL, put your hand on that crucifix, and swear by the cross.

M.

MY lord, we swear upon scripture.

I.

IT is no matter for scripture, put your hand upon the cross.

MR. Martin then put his hand to the cross, and the other gravely began thus:

YOU must tell me what your father and mo|ther's names were:—What their father and mo|ther's names were:—What brothers and sisters they had:—What brothers and sisters you have; where they were born; and what business they fol|lowed, or do follow.

MR. Martin answered all these questions to the best of his knowledge.

I.

You say you are an Englishman; we have great belief in them; they are generally people that speak the truth; I hope you will.

M.

MY lord, I don't know that I have done any thing that I should be afraid of: your lordship has given me my oath, and if you had not I should have told the truth.

I.

WHERE was you born, Isaac? And in what parish?

M.

MY lord, I and my family were all born in London, but in different parishes.

I.

ARE you a scholar? Have you studied Latin?

M.

NO, my lord, I have had but a common edu|cation.

I.

WHAT do you call a common education in your country? You have been at school, what did you learn there?

M.

MY lord, I learned to read, to write, and to cast accounts; that is what we call a common education.

I.

WHAT sect are you of? For in England you have several religions, as you call them.

M.

MY lord there are different opinions in En|gland in matters of religion▪ I am of that which is called the church of England, and so was my fa|ther and mother.

I.

WAS you baptized?

M.

YES, my lord, I hope I am a christian.

I.

HOW are you baptized in England?

M.

WE are baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.

I.

DO you take the sacrament in your religion?

M.

YES, my lord.

I.

HOW do you take it?

M.

MY lord, we take bread and wine, as our Saviour gave to his apostles.

I.

DO you confess your sins to your clergy, as we do in the church of Rome?

M.

NO, my lord, we confess them only to God Almighty.

I.

DO you know the Lord's Prayer, the Belief, and the Commandments?

M.

YES, my lord, and will give you an account of my religion if you please, and prove to you that I am a christian, though I have been called a Jew and an heretic.

I.

WHAT do you believe in your religion?

M.

MY lord, we believe the same creed that you have.

I.

HAVE you any bishops in your religion? Have you been confirmed?

M.

MY lord, we have archbishops and bishops, but I don't remember whether I have been con|firmed.

I.

ISAAC, you have been brought up in the dark; it is a pity, but you may enlighten yourself if you will.

M.

MY lord, I hop•• I have light enough to save myself if I live according to it.

HERE Mr. Martin, through anxiety of mind, began to shed tears, which the inquisitor perceiv|ing, proceeded to speak with great seeming tender|ness.

I.

DON'T cry, nor don't be afraid; there is no|body put to death here, nor harm done to any body. I hope your case is not so bad but it may be reme|died; you are among christians, and not among Turks.

M.

MY lord, I know very well that I am among christians, and that the laws of christians are merci|ful; but I have been used as if I had committed murder.

I.

WELL! have patience, you shall have justice done you. You must think of what you have done or said during the time you lived at Malaga, and confess; for that is the only way to get out of your troubles. But let us continue our examination: to be sure you was not brought here for nothing, was you?

M.

MY lord, I don't know what I was brought here for.

I.

YOU must think of that, and you must tell me how old you are; and likewise, as far as you can remember, what company you have kept, what business you have followed, what countries you have travelled in, and what languages you can speak.

M.

MY lord, I have been a traveller many years, and have made many trading voyages; sometimes in one country, and sometimes in another, and can't remember how long I lived in every place, but I will tell you as well as I can.

I.

IT is very well, Isaac, tell the truth.

MR. Martin then gave him a circumstantial ac|count to the best of his memory.

I.

IT is very well, Isaac, you have been a great traveller, you have been wild in your time.

M.

YES, my lord, too wild; for if I had staid at home as I ought to have done, I should not have been in this misery.

I.

IN your religion do you believe in the virgin

Mary, the mother of God, and in the saints? Don't you worship them?

M.

MY lord, we believe that the virgin Mary is the mother of Jesus Christ carnally, and believe she and the saints are happy, but do not worship them.

I.

WHAT! don't you worship the mother of God, and the saints, that are always praying for us?

M.

NO, my lord, we worship only one God in three persons, and nothing else.

I.

[Speaking to his secretary.]

It is a pity that he hath been brought up in heresy, he talks pretty well.

I.

[Addressing the prisoner.]

What a pity it is that England has left the true faith, and has embra|ced heresy: formerly it produced many saints, but now it produces only schisms and heretics; and your bishops and clergy are a strange sort of people to marry as they do.

M.

I believe, my lord, England produces as many good men as ever it did.

I.

HOLD your tongue, you know nothing of those affairs; think of what you have done during your residence at Malaga, and that you may consi|der of these things, retire to your dungeon: I will send for you another time.

M.

MY lord, I hope your lordship will consider that I have a family; I beg therefore that your lordship will dispatch me as soon as possible.

I.

I will do all I can to dispatch you; go and think upon what you have done or said. I hope your case is not very bad, and can be remedied, if you think upon what I have said to you.

AND thus concluded Mr. Martin's first exami|nation, or audience, as it is called in the inquisi|tion.

MR. Martin now tried to make a friend of the gaoler as much as possible, in order to pump what he could from him; but in this he could have but lit|tle success, for they are all sworn to secrecy. He, however, told him, that he was there for the good of his soul, and advised him, above all things, not to contradict the inquisitors.

SECOND AUDIENCE.

ABOUT a week after, Mr. Martin being called to a second audience, the following interrogatories and answers ensued.

I.

Well, Isaac, how do you do? Do you re|member what you have done, or said, whilst you lived at Malaga? Have you reflected on what I said to you?

M.

Yes, my lord, but I cannot remember every thing that has happened in four years time.

I.

WELL! let us hear what you have remem|bered.

M.

MY lord, during my living at Malaga, I was attacked and insulted several times about my reli|gion: I hope your lordship allows than an honest man ought to defend his religion?

I.

YES, Isaac, he may defend it.

M.

MY lord, it is what I have done, and the same liberty have the Spaniards in my country; for if a bishop should attack them in matters of re|ligion, they have liberty to defend themselves.

I.

HOW long have you been married?

M.

SEVEN years.

I.

WAS your wife maid, or widow, when you married her?

M.

A widow, my lord.

I.

WHAT quarrels have you had with different people, and who were they?

MR. Martin named four or five people with whom he had little squabbles.

I.

DO you think those people your enemies? If you do, tell me what reason you have for think|ing so?

M.

MY lord, at my first arrival at Malaga, three Irishmen went to the bishop's court, to acquaint them that I was a Jew, though they hardly knew my name, or what religion I was of. Your lord|ship has heard it, I suppose. All the time that I lived at Malaga, they, upon divers occasions, shewed themselves my enemies. My friends often|times told me that they spoke ill of me behind my back; sometimes saying that I was a Jew, and sometimes an heretic; and that they would play me a trick one day, that I should not carry much money along with me if I left the place; and I find, my lord, that they have accomplished their design.

I.

HAVE you had no words about religion? Have you not blasphemed against our holy faith?

M.

NO, my lord, I am a better bred man than that. My religion does not permit such things: it is true, that I have had high words about religion when I have been attacked, but not to blaspheme your religion.

I.

WELL! but what is the reason that you have so many enemies, can you tell?

M.

I know no other reason, my lord, but that I am an English protestant, and had better business than they had, which caused them to envy me ever since I came to Malaga.

I.

WELL! but Isaac, have you no inclination to be a good christian, and to be in the right way of salvation? You are a man of age and reason, and have a family: it is time to think of your soul.

M.

MY lord, I hope God will save me in the religion I have been brought up in: I have no in|clination to change my religion: Jesus Christ al|lows of no persecution; I hope, my lord, there is none here.

I.

NO, Isaac, it is all voluntary; I would have you think upon it for the good of your soul, and your family. Do not you believe in the holy fa|ther the pope, that he is infallible, and that he can absolve people from their sins?

M.

NO, my lord, I believe that he is no more than another bishop, and can absolve no more than another clergyman.

I.

DON'T you believe in purgatory?

M.

NO, my lord, I believe in no such thing.

I.

WHAT, don't you believe there is a place cal|led purgatory, where the souls of those that die are retained to be purified before they can go to heaven?

M.

NO, my lord, I believe that the blood of Christ is sufficient to clease us from our iniquities.

I.

POOR man, you have been brought up in he|resy and ignorance from your youthful days. I am sorry for you, you will find yourself mistaken when it is too late. You have time to consider of it, and I would advise you to do it for your own good. Can you think of any thing else that you have done that they have sent you here for?

M.

NO, my lord, I have had some few words with people, but I believe that has not any con|nection with this affair.

I.

WHAT words had you with the Spaniards at Malaga.

M.

MY lord, at first several desired me to speak the language for them, to help them to sell their goods to ships that came to load there; and I did, but there came so many, that I could not do busi|ness for myself, so that I desired them to excuse me and take somebody else; but they still importuned me so, that I was obliged to tell them that I would trouble myself no more about their business, and that I had business enough of my own to mind; at which they would sometimes fall into a passion, and generally reflect upon my religion, which I could not always digest.

I.

VERY well, Isaac, have you any thing else to say relating to your affairs?

M.

MY lord, I don't know what to say.

I.

WELL, go to your dungeon, and think of what you have done; for it will be a great help to your rel••••sement. I will do you what service I can, but you must do what you can to serve yourself, and think upon what I have said to you.

MR. Martin had soon after three other audien|ces, in all of which he was only asked the same questions as we have already inserted, which was to detect him in a falshood, if he had told one, and to discover if he prevaricated in any part of his story.

ONE morning, the head gaoler told Mr. Martin, that he must get his dungeon very clean, for he was to have a visit from one of the lords of the inquisi|tion; at the same time he gave him some an••iseed to throw into the fire when he heard him coming, in order to take away the stench. On hearing a noise on the stair-case, he did so, and the inquisitor, whose name was Don Petro Leonor, soon after appeared.

THIS inquisitor asked a great number of frivo|lous questions with much pomposity; then making a transition to England, he very liberally abused king Henry the Eighth, queen Elizabeth, and king William, the latter of whom he affirmed to have been of no religion, because he had read such an assertion in a French book. Changing from these, he attacked the archbishops, bishops, clergy, and people of England in general, and after abusing them with great liberality, he walked away with the most important dignity.

A few days after, Mr. Martin was called to his sixth audience, when, after a few immaterial inter|rogatories, the inquisitor told him the charges against him should be read, and that he must give an immediate and prompt answer to each respective charge.

FIRST ACCUSATION.

THAT soon after your coming to Malaga, you went and abused the school-master for teaching your children the christian doctrine; telling him that you would teach them your own religion, and that you sent them to school to learn to read and write, and not to learn religion.

REPLY.

MY lord, I will confess the truth; I hope your lordship requires nothing else. I did go to the school-master, and told him, that I sent my chil|dren to learn to read and write, and not to learn prayers; that I would have them brought up in my religion, and would teach them how to pray, but I did not abuse him. I believe, my lord, I have the liberty to bring up my children in my own faith without being called to an account for it.

THE inquisitor seemed displeased at this reply, and bid the secretary write him down guilty of the first accusation.

SECOND ACCUSATION.

THAT at divers times it was remarked, that you did not pull off your hat, nor pay homage to ima|ges, but turned your back on them.

REPLY.

MY lord, in my religion we pay no respect to graven images. I profess myself to be a protestant, it is against my conscience to bow to any, and I am not obliged by the articles of peace so to do. I believe your lordship knows what the word protes|tant means.

THE inquisitor told him, that as he lived in a country where it was done, he ought to comply with the custom of the place in which he resided. The secretary was then ordered to record the an|swer.

THIRD ACCUSATION.

YOU once said, walking in your own apartment with an English captain, an heretic, like yourself, that purgatory was but an invention of the church of Rome to get money. There was one present who could speak your language, and heard you say so.

REPLY.

MY lord, I cannot remember every thing that I

have said during four years time. It may be, that I have said such a thing; but if I did, it was not to a Roman catholic. If there was one in the room that heard me say so, he must be an Irishman, who was not very welcome there, for he came more as a spy than any thing else.

THE inquisitor asking if he thought he knew him, Mr. Martin named the person on whom his suspicion fell. The inquisitor then having blamed him for giving his tongue such liberties in Roman catholic countries, demanded if he was sorry for having said so; he replied, "My lord, if I have said amiss, I beg your lordship's pardon." When the inquisitor, turning to the secretary, said, Write down that the heretic begs pardon for the third accusation.

FOURTH ACCUSATION.

THAT you was once walking with another per|son, who pulled his hat off to a crucifix. You asked him why he pulled his hat off? He replied, to the crucifix; when you said, we have no such things in our country, and passed by without pul|ling off your hat.

REPLY.

MY lord, I remember the time very well; it is very true, I never pulled off my hat to a crucifix, unless it was carried in procession; and then I used to pull off my hat to it, not in respect to the image, but to cause no scandal.

GUILTY of this accusation by his own confession.

FIFTH ACCUSATION.

THAT you have spoken several times in religious disputes against our faith; and though you have been frequently admonished to embrace the Roman catho|lic persuasion, without which no man can be saved, you would never give ear to such salutary advice.

REPLY.

MY lord, at my first arrival in the inquisition you allowed that a man might defend his religion: it is what I have done. As for being admonished to change it, that has happened very often; but I have no inclination to change.

THE inquisitor then asked him if he could not defend his religion without speaking against the church of Rome? To which Mr. Martin made answer, that he really could not; "For (says he) in disputing with others, when they spoke against my religion, I naturally spoke against their's; and I brought proof of scripture for what I said."

HE was recorded as guilty of this charge by his own confession.

SIXTH ACCUSATION.

THAT being on board an English ship, with your wife and others, a certain female admonished your wife to change her religion, when you bade her be quiet and mind her own religion. This was on a Friday, and you ate meat without regarding the day. Do you remember that, Isaac?

REPLY.

YES, my lord, we were very merry drinking Flo|rence wine and punch, and that woman was always talking of religion to my wife, though she hardly knew what she said, and at best knew but little of the matter. I desired her to be quiet, and told her we did not come on board to talk of religion, but to be merry. But she continued to talk on in the same manner, made us very uneasy, so that I bade her hold her tongue, and had a trifling quarrel with her. As for eating meat on a Friday, I gene|rally do, and so did she, though she is a Roman catholic.

THE inquisitor turning to the secretary, expres|sed himself thus: Write down what the heretic says.

SEVENTH ACCUSATION.

THAT being in company with some English he|retic captains at church, there were several people kneeling and praying to the image of the virgin Mary. The captains asked if they prayed to the image? You answered, Yes, they know no better, for they are brought up in ignorance.

REPLY.

MY lord, I have been divers times walking with captains. I do not remember this particular time: it may be that some person heard me say so; but I am sure I spoke English, and I suppose it must be an Irishman that heard me say so.

THE inquisitor was very severe upon this reply; but upon Mr. Martin's asking pardon, he said, "Secretary, write down that the heretic asks par|don; (but continues he, shaking his head) I wish asking pardon may do."

EIGHTH ACCUSATION.

THAT being walking with several merchants, the host passed by, when they took off their hats, and some kneeled; but you did not so much as take off your hat, which occasioned such great scandal, that some of the people were going to stab you.

REPLY.

MY lord, it is false: I have lived several years in Roman catholic countries, and know, that by the articles of peace, I am obliged to have my hat off on all occasions. During my residence at Ma|laga, I always took care not to cause any scandal; with respect to bowing or kneeling, I did not do it, nor am I obliged to do it, as it is expressly against my religion. As for people stabbing me, I have run those hazards many times on account of my religion.

THE secretary was ordered to write down, that he denied the accusation.

NINTH ACCUSATION.

YOU have been threatened divers times with the pope's authority in these countries, and you have said that you did not value him, and that he had no authority over you.

REPLY.

MY lord, it is true I have said so.

THIS answer occasioned the following curious altercation:

I.

HOW came you to say so? Don't you value the holy father who is God on earth?

M.

MY lord, talking with some people who were very troublesome about religion, they threaten|ed me with the authority of the pope, and being an English protestant, I thought they had nothing to do with me.

I.

WHAT! then you value nobody?

M.

I beg your lorship's pardon; I value all mankind as being fellow-creatures; I value the pope as bishop of Rome, but not for what autho|rity he has over me, for I believe he has not any.

I.

YOU are mistaken; I see who is the head of the church.

M.

MY lord, I see to my sorrow, that I was mistaken. Jesus Christ is the head of the church.

I.

WHAT, then you allow no head upon earth?

M.

NO, my lord.

I.

HOLD your tongue; you are an unbeliever; he is God upon earth.

THE secretary was ordered to record Mr. Mar|tin's several replies.

TENTH ACCUSATION.

THAT being walking with some captains of ships, there was a procession going by, when you bid them retire▪ and not mind it, though it was their design to see it; but you hindered them out of disrespect to the procession.

REPLY.

MY lord, processions are very frequent in Mala|ga. I have oftentimes been in company with cap|tains who were never in Roman catholic countries before; and they, not knowing that people went in

procession for devotion, would laugh, and not take their hats off: so that I desired them to retire to avoid confusion; I hope there is no harm in that, my lord.

ELEVENTH ACCUSATION.

THAT the procession (mentioned in accusation the tenth) went by, and the people kneeled down and worshipped; but you stood with your hat on, and took no notice of it.

REPLY.

MY lord, I remember nothing of the accusation, but believe it is false; or if I did not take off my hat, it was because the host was not there. But with respect to kneeling or bowing, I told your lordship I never do; your lordship tries me as a Roman catholic; I am a protestant; I gave a short account of my religion to your lordship at my first coming. Was I a Roman catholic, I should cer|tainly be guilty.

THE answers to both the last accusations were ordered to be recorded.

TWELFTH ACCUSATION.

THAT being in your own house, an English captain asked you if you was a Jew; when you burst into a fit of laughter, and answered, you did not value what scandalous people said, for you was ready to give an account of your religion.

REPLY.

IT is true, my lord, I little valued what such scandalous people said, and was always ready to give an account of my faith. Nor did I think o•• being sent here, that it might be examined whether I was a Jew or not, when the clergy are so numerous at Malaga.

THIRTEENTH ACCUSATION.

THAT you refused to give any thing to such as begged alms for the souls that are in purgatory, and violently huffed them from your door.

REPLY.

MY lord, it is true; but do they mention the reason why I did so?

THE inquisitor did not satisfy him, but bade him relate the reason, which he did, by in|forming him, that one person in particular, who went about begging alms for the souls in purgatory, did all he could to torment him, and the more Mr. Martin declared he would not disburse money for any such purpose, the more importunate the other became, calling him heretic, dog, and telling him that he would be damned, which at length over|came his temper, and made him, in some measure, return the fellow's abuse.

FOURTEENTH ACCUSATION.

THAT you have been heard to say you feared no ecclesiastical court of justice, nor even the inquisi|tion itself, which you affirmed had nothing to do with you as an English protestant.

REPLY.

MY lord, I have oftentimes said so.

THE twelfth and thirteenth replies were record|ed as delivered; but Mr. Martin being persuaded to intreat forgiveness for the fourteenth, the secre|tary was ordered to insert, "The heretic begs pardon."

FIFTEENTH ACCUSATION.

THAT you have had Jews in your house, with|out giving notice to the commissioners of the inqui|sition, that they might be taken up and prosecuted according to the laws of the country. How durst you do such things? Do you remember these cir|cumstances?

REPLY.

YES, my lord, I do very well.

ON this confession of the fact, the following dialogue took place.

I.

THEN let us hear what you have to say for yourself.

M.

MY lord, there came a ship bound for Leg|horn, with a passenger who came to my house: he spoke very good Spanish, and I believe, by his looks, was a Jew. He stayed with his captain about two hours at my house; I never saw him before or since. He might be a christian for what I know, but being bound for Leghorn, and speaking Spa|nish, I though he was a Jew: that is all I know of the man. God knows what religion he was of.

I.

DO you know the person that has sent this accusation against you?

M.

YES, my lord, I believe I do; his name is A. H. a man of very indifferent character.

SIXTEENTH ACCUSATION.

THAT it is confirmed by several people, that the said heretic, Isaac Martin, has, at divers times, shewn himself very disaffected against the holy faith of the church of Rome, and has hindered some people from embracing it; so that had it not been for the sake of his family, he would have been mur|dered long ago.

THE remainder of this accusation then goes in the first person, by way of petition from the accu|sers, thus:

WE recommend him to your holy office, as a dangerous and pernicious man against the holy faith of the church of Rome; and a great many report he is a Jew. We desire your tribunal will examine him with a great deal of strictness, according to the custom of your holy office, and give him such chas|tisement as your lordship shall think fit, as well in body as chattels.

WHEN the secretary had done reading this accu|sation, the inquisitor said, "Well! what have you to say for yourself? See what a character people give you! Sure you are a very wicked man!" To which Mr. Martin made

REPLY.

MY lord, I suppose those are very good chris|tians that giv•• me this character; God knows best what to do with them; there are none of them can say I ever ••••••nged any body at Malaga. I have always professed myself to be a protestant; and for that reason, and no other, I have been brought here. I hope God will enable me to go through these afflictions. I am very well assured that your lordship knows I am no Jew. As for what charac|ter they give me, God knows best whether I de|serve it or no. I have answered the truth to your examination to the best of my remembrance; and I believe your lordship knows it to be so, and know the people that informed against me are but people of a very indifferent character, which have always envied me ever since I lived at Malaga.

I.

MOST of your accusers are your countrymen; sure they would not speak against you, if the things were not so.

M.

MY lord, those whom you reckon my coun|trymen are the worst enemies I have: I deny them for countrymen; they are Irishmen: it is true that Ireland belongs to the crown of England; but these people have deserted from our army, and are ene|mies to my religion, king, and country, and the worst that an English protestant can have abroad. I wonder, my lord, that there is no merchant, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 man of good repute, that has declared any thing against me.

I.

HOLD your tongue, do you think that I will believe all you say? To be sure you have been a ve|ry wicked man by what is mentioned here, and you deny a great many things, and are so malicious, that you give what turn you please to things. I have heard of you four years ago; you are a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 man, but we have tortures to make people speak truth.

M.

MY lord, you may do what you please with me; I cannot help myself, for your lordship knows that I have declared the truth.

I.

YOU shall have a lawyer to defend your cause, but I believe it is very bad.

A lawyer was then called in, to whom the in|quisitor made an harrangue, telling him, that Mr. Martin was a strong heretic; that he had been ex|amined, and denied many things of which he had been ac••used. He then ordered the lawyer to write to Malaga concerning him, and concluded by say|ing, his case is very bad, yet might be remedied; but he is obstinate, and will not have it so.— The lawyer, to all his lordship said, only bowed, and answered Yes or No; but he did not speak to Mr. Martin, though it was pretended he was to plead for him.

WHEN the lawyer was gone, the inquisitor said, "Go, you are guilty; you may repent of what you have said; if you do not, take care: sign these papers, which are what you confess." Mr. Mar|tin having signed the papers, was remanded to his dungeon.

WHEN Mr. Martin's examination, upon the ac|cusations against him, was resumed, (which was by his own desire) the proceedings were as follow:

I.

WELL, Isaac, what have you to say in your defence? You have demanded an audience.

M.

MY lord, I have nothing to say but what I have said already; I come to beg the favour of your lordship to dispatch me; I believe you have done examining me; I remember that it was desi|red I might be chastised both in body and wealth; I believe that my body has been chastised enough in suffering what I have suffered, and in being locked up in a dark dungeon by myself, where I live worse than a dog; as for what wealth God has given me, your lordship is welcome to it. If I am such a bad man as people report, fetter me, and send me, with my family, aboard any ship; let her be bound where she will, God will provide for us.

I.

HOLD, Isaac, things are not done so soon as you think for; you have broken the articles of peace by your own confession.

M.

MY lord, I am very sorry if I have; I de|sire your lordship would shew them to me, that I may know in what I am guilty.

I.

I have them; you shall see them another time: there is a great deal to be said in your aff••••r. Have you any thing else to say?

M.

NO, my lord, I desire to be tried by them [the articles of peace]: you was pleased to tell me that you would quickly dispatch me.

I.

GO, go to your dungeon, and think of what you have done.

MR. Martin, upon this occasion, says thus: "When I came to my dungeon I was resolved to ask no more audience, and wondered that such a man, who sat upon a throne between two crucifixes, attributing to himself holiness, and infallibility, should tell so many lies; and found, that there was no way of redemption, but by praying to God to give me strength to overcome the miseries that I was in, and in mercy to deliver me from their hands."

A few days after, the third inquisitor, named Don Joseph Egnaraz, came, with his secretary, to see Mr. Martin, when the following conversation ensued:

I.

HOW do you do, Isaac? Have you any thing to say in your defence? Can I serve you in any thing, tell me?

M.

MY lord, I have nothing to say but what I have said already: I think it is very hard to be kept here so long.

I.

HARK ye, you Englishmen think we aim at your wealth, but you are mistaken, there is no such thing. You have confessed that you did not take your hat off to our images: you ought to do it, living in these christian countries, whether you be|lieve in them or no; for it shews ill example if you do not.

M.

MY lord, we protestants never do such things, it is against our religion and against our consciences so to do.

I.

YOU must do all in this country, and it is a thing that ought to be done. See if I can serve you in any thing?

M.

I•• your lordship would be pleased to get me

out of this misery, I should be very much obliged to you.

I.

THERE is time for all things. You have been brought up in heresy, you are here for the good of your soul, you must enlighten yourself in the true faith; I will do you all the service I can; have you any thing else to say?

M.

MY lord, I hope to be saved in the faith I am in.

I.

WELL, think upon what I have said to you. Good by to you.

BEING again called up for the continuance of his trial, and the accusation against him, the following were the particulars.

I.

WELL, Isaac, have you thought of any thing else in your affair, besides what you have already declared.

M.

NO, my lord, I have nothing to say, unless I repeat what I have already, and I believe that will signify nothing.

I.

HERE are several more accusations come against you that you must answer to.

M.

IT is very well, my lord, I will answer to them as well as I can.

THE inquisitor read over the accusations, which consisted of what had already been answered, only altered, mangled, and displaced, with some additi|onal articles. After having done reading, he said,

I.

WELL, Isaac, what have you to say now?

M.

MY lord, this is the same thing over again, only the accusations are altered and misplaced; I can quickly answer to them, and as for those that are added to them, they are almost all false, and the devil has invented them.

I.

HOLD, Isaac, you talk strangely.

M.

MY lord, I speak the truth; your lordship was pleased to tell me at my first coming that you would dispatch me very soon. I have been here above three months, and am no more likely to get out than the first day.

I.

HOLD, hold; do you think that justice is done here as in your country, at random, and I don't know how? Here things are well examined, and justice is done, as it ought to be done.

M.

MY lord, I believe we have good justice done in England, but I beg your lordship's pardon; I do not understand this way of justice.

I.

I believe you do not, but it is no matter, remember, you are upon your oath, and answer to articles.

M.

MUST I answer to those that I have answer|ed already?

I.

YES, you must; and take care what you say.

M.

VERY well, my lord.

MR. Martin then made a second answer to the accusations already exhibited against him; when the inquisitor ordered the secretary to continue the trial, with the accusations which had not yet been brought forth.

SEVENTEENTH ACCUSATION.

THAT you hindered your family from being brought up in the christian faith, and if it was not for you they would be all Romans, and it is against the laws of the country to hinder them.

REPLY.

MY lord, it is false that my family had any in|clinations to be Romans; neither can any law ob|lige them to be so, or hinder me from bringing them up in my religion. Your lordship, five weeks ago, told me, that you would shew me the articles of peace, and that I had broke them. Pray let me see them, my lord.

I.

YOU shall see them another time. Answer to these articles.

M.

MY lord, all my family are as I am; I could

never perceive that they were inclined to change their religion.

I.

WHAT! do you deny this accusation?

M.

YES, my lord, I do; it is all false.

EIGHTEENTH ACCUSATION.

YOU used to shut your window shutters when the processions went by, to hinder your children from kneeling down, and would beat them if they shewed any inclinations to be Roman catholics.

REPLY.

MY lord, it is true that I have shut my shutters several times; for sometimes I had captains of ships in my house, that would not pull their hats off when they saw them. As for my children, they went to the window generally to laugh; and I oftentimes bade them not shew themselves till the procession went by, that no scandal might be given; and if I beat them, as it is said, I believe I have the liberty to do it if I please.

I.

NO, you have not in some cases. How old are your children?

M.

ONE is fifteen, another eight, and the other five years of age.

I.

THEY are of age to be brought up in the chris|tian faith.

M.

I hope they are, my lord; but as for the two youngest, they can be brought up to any re|ligion.

I.

YOUR daughter, and your son Abraham are of age, and you are but their father-in-law: they may be brought up in the christian faith: you have no|thing to do with them.

M.

MY lord, I hope that they are christians; and I look upon them as if they were my own children.

I.

SO then you would have them brought up in your religion?

M.

YES, my lord.

NINETEENTH ACCUSATION.

THAT your daughter being of age, hath often said in the neighbourhood, that she would be a Roman catholic, but was afraid you would beat her; and that you had sometimes beat her upon that account.

M.

MY lord, I have nothing to answer to such lies; it is as false as the devil is false.

I.

WHAT! have you nothing to say, Isaac, to this article?

M.

NO, my lord, I never knew my daughter inclinable to be a Roman, and I never did beat her upon that account. It is all false, and you may order your secretary to write down what you please.

TWENTIETH ACCUSATION.

THAT in Lent, and other fast days, you caused your family to eat meat, and forbad them to keep any fast days that were appointed by the church of Rome, and beat them if they did.

REPLY.

MY lord, those are poor accusations, and they are all false. I thank God my table afforded flesh and fish all the year round; I never troubled my head to see what the servants used to eat; and as for my|self, wife, and children, we eat meat all the year, without any scruple of conscience. Your lordship knows that.

I.

YOU English mind nothing but eating and drinking, and living at your ease, without doing any penance.

M.

MY lord, I beg your pardon, we have souls to be saved as well as other nations. We are born in a plentiful country, and I believe we live as well as the people of any nation, and serve God as well.

I.

YOUR country was a good country formerly; it produced a great many saints, but now produces no such thing.

M.

MY lord, I believe there are no saints now,

but I am persuaded it produces as many good men as ever it did.

I.

HOLD your tongue, you are all lost men▪ you are fallen from the holy church, and there is no salvation for you if you do not return.

TWENTY-FIRST ACCUSATION.

THAT your children had often been at mass, and at prayers in the neighbourhood, and would have done it every day if you would have let them. But you beat them and hindered them being christians, and thereby endangered their souls.

REPLY.

MY lord, I never knew my children go to mass or prayers in the neighbourhood, or beat them up|on that account; I hope God will save their souls in the religion to which they are brought up; though the church of Rome condemns them. The accusation is false.

I.

WHY, you deny every thing almost.

M.

I deny nothing but what is false, my lord▪

I.

WELL, but you may forget, Isaac.

M.

NO, my lord, I have nothing else to think of; and I do think these are very insignificant ar+ticles to alledge against me, if the things were as they say. But they are false, and I believe they are scandalous people that have invented them.

I.

HOLD your tongue! How durst you speak so?

M.

IT is very well, my lord, let your secretary write down any thing what you please; it is all false.

TWENTY-SECOND ACCUSATION.

THAT living at Lisbon you had several disputes about religion, and that you hid yourself for fear of being taken up by the inquisition as a Jew.

COME, answer▪ what have you to say to this ar|ticle? It is of consequence.

REPLY.

MY lord, let your secretary write down what you please; I have nothing to answer to such scandalous reports. God knows that I am no Jew, and your lordship knows it very well. The devil has in|vented this to frighten me; bu•• God, that knows every thing, will revenge my cause.

I.

WELL! but, Isaac, you see what they write against you; and all your family's names are an|cient, and of the Mosaical law.

M.

MY lord, you have oftentimes reflected up|on my name being Isaac, and my son's name being Abraham, but you don't talk of a child that I buried at Malaga, whose name was Peter; and one that I have whose name is Barnard, they are saints' names.

I.

THOSE are all christian names.

M.

AND so are the others, my lord: we don't mind whether we give our children names out of the Old or New Testament. Besides, my lord▪ neither Abraham, nor Isaac, nor Jacob were Jews.

I.

YES, they were Jews; sure your'e mistaken.

M.

I beg your lordship's pardon, I am not mis|taken.

I.

WHAT were they then? let us hear.

M.

MY lord, they were Hebrews; they lived under the law of nature, as God inspired, and spoke to them; but were dead many years before God had given his laws to Moses.

I.

HOLD your tongue, methinks you understand something of the Mosaical law.

M.

MY lord, thank God, I understand some of the old, and some of the new laws; but not so mu•••• as I should. We have always the Old and the New Testament in our families, and we read in them to instruct us in our religion.

I.

HOLD your tongue, you give a wrong 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to scripture; your knowing so much has brought

you here; you had better known less, and believed the true faith.

M.

MY lord, I hope to be saved in what I be|lieve; and if at Lisbon I was disputing of religion, it was not in defending the laws of Moses: for se|veral Jews were burnt whilst I was there; there|fore it proves, my lord, that the accusation is false, and that I would not run such hazards.

TWENTY-THIRD ACCUSATION.

THAT you bred schisms among the people, per|suading them to turn heretics, and to leave the church of Rome, out of which no man can be saved.

REPLY.

I wish your lordship, or any body else, would tell me whom I persuaded to change their religion. You may accuse me of any thing; hell can't invent greater lies. I can't think, my lord, who could have sent such accusations against me. When I talked of religion, it was generally with clergymen, and not with common people; for I know that they are not capable of it, as they know but little of the matter.

I.

THEY know enough, it is believing that saves us; and you won't believe, but deny almost every article.—Hold your tongue.

TWENTY-FOURTH ACCUSATION.

THAT your name being Isaac, and your son's name Abraham, you must be a Jew, or related to Jews.

REPLY.

MY lord, I have sufficiently answered upon this matter; this is nothing but repetitions: the Roman catholics, that are in Holland and Flanders, don't much mind whether their children have names out of the Old or out of the New Testament; and I knew a man at Malaga, who is a Flanderkin, and a Roman catholic, whose name is Jacob. As for my parents, I never knew any of them were Jews; let your secretary write what you please.

TWENTY-FIFTH ACCUSATION.

THAT you offered to dispose of your house, and to retire for fear of being taken up by the inquisition.

REPLY.

MY lord, it is true, that I offered to dispose of my house, but not for fear of the inquisition, for I never thought it had any thing to do with English protestants. If I had been afraid of it, I would never have come to live in the country: I had op|portunities enough to go on board of English ships, and to retire if I had been afraid.

I.

WHAT! then you thought the inquisition had nothing to do with English protestants? You are mistaken.

M.

MY lord, I see I am, to my sorrow.

I.

WHAT did you design to do after you had dis|posed of your house?

M.

MY lord, to go to my own country, for I was tired of living abroad, especially at Malaga, where I could have no rest, but was daily affronted on account of my religion.

I.

YOU have a tongue, that you made use of to defend yourself.

M.

MY lord, I could not always bear their in|solencies; but I find they have accomplished their design.

I.

WELL, hold your tongue; you may help yourself still if you will.

TWENTY-SIXTH ACCUSATION.

THAT you took all opportunities of making game of the religion of the church of Rome.— Well! what have you to say to that?

REPLY.

MY lord, I don't deny that; being in company with some Roman catholics, as they have made game of my religion, I have made game of their's; but it was in joke, and not in a profane way.

I.

RELIGION ought not to be mocked.

M.

IT is very true, my lord; but I never scan|dalized them as they did me, upon the account of my religion.

I.

WHAT did they usually say to you? Let's hear.

M.

MY lord, you know that the church of Rome don't allow the heretics (as you call us) to be saved: in our faith we have charity for all men; we con|demn nobody. I have oftentimes been told, that I and my family were damned, and that it was impos|sible for us to be saved. My lord, it is very hard to hear such words so often as I have. I sometimes gave them an answer that they did not like; for I could not always bear wha•• they said. I hope to be saved through God's mercy, as well as they do.

I.

SO, you say that when they made game of your religion, you made game of their's. Is not that what you say?

M.

YES, my lord.

I.

WELL! hold your tongue, you are a sly man▪ you give what turn you please to things, and deny almost every thing: you will repent this, if you don't take care. We have ways to make people confess who are obstinate. Sign these papers:— these are the articles you confess, and these are what you deny.—But I won't believe you; I have heard of you a long while ago, and know now that you are a cunning pernicious man against the Ro|man catholic faith.

[The lawyer then came in, when the inquisitor asked him a variety of frivolous questions; to which, as before, he answered, yes and no, without so much as looking at his supposed client.]

MR. Martin being remanded to his dungeon, was shaved on Whitsun-eve (shaving is only allow|ed th••ee times a year in the inquisition); and the next day one of the gaolers gave him some frankin|cense to be put into the fire, as he was to receive a visit from the lords of the inquisition. Two of them accordingly came, asked many trivial ques|tions, concluding them as usual, with, We will do you all the service we can. Mr. Martin complained greatly of their having promised him a lawyer to plead his cause; when, instead of a proper person, says he, "there was a man that you called a law|yer, but he never spoke to me, nor I to him: if all your lawyers are so quiet in this country, they are the quietest in the world, for he hardly said any thing but yes and no, to what your lordship said." To which one of the inquisitors gravely replied, "Lawyers are not allowed to speak here." At this the gaoler and secretary went out of the dun|geon to laugh, and Mr. Martin could scarce refrain from smiling in their faces, to think that his cause was to be defended by a man, who scarce dared to open his lips. Mr. Martin, some time after, was ordered to dress himself very clean; as soon as he was ready, one of the gaolers came and told him, that he must go with him; but that first he must have a handkerchief tied about his eyes. This terribly frightened Mr. Martin, who now thought of nothing but the torture. The gaoler led him for some time, till he heard a voice say, Stop, and pull off your clothes. He was then examined to know if he had been circumcised, and consequently was a Jew. Finding that he had not been circumcised, he was remanded to his dungeon.

ABOUT a month after he was brought to a room filled with a great number of persons, had a rope put round his neck, and was led by it to the altar of the great church. Here his sentence was pro|nounced, which was, That for the crimes of which he stood convicted, the lords of the holy office had ordered him to be banished out of the dominio•••• of Spain, upon the penalty of 200 lashes, and be|ing sent five years to the gallies; and that he should at present receive 200 lashes through the common streets of the city of Grenada.

MR. Martin was sent again to his dungeon that night, and the next morning the executioner came, stripped him, tied his hands together, put a rope about his neck, and led him out of the inquisition. He was then mounted on an ass, and received his 200 lashes, amidst not only the shouts, but peltings of the people: which latter greatly incommoded him. He remained a fortnight after this in 〈◊〉〈◊〉, his back being very sore all the time; at length he was sent to Malaga, to his great joy. Here he was

put in gaol for some days, till he could be sent on board an English ship: which had no sooner hap|pened, than news was brought of a rupture between England Spain, and that ship, with many others, was stopped. Mr. Martin not being considered as a prisoner of war, was put on board a Hamburgh trader, and his wife and children soon after came to him; but he was obliged to put up with the loss of his effects, which had been embezzled by the in|quisition: for this, however, he thought himself amply recompenced, by setting foot, once more, in his native country.

MR. Martin's case was published by the desire of, and authenticated by, the right honourable Mr. Secretary Craggs, the archbishop of Canterbury, the archbishop of York, the bishop of London, Winchester, Ely, Norwich, Sarum, Chichester, St. Asaph, Lincoln, Bristol, Bangor, Peterborough, &c. &c. &c.

Some private Enormities of the INQUISITION laid open, by a very singular Occurrence.

WHEN the crown of Spain was contested for in the beginning of the present centu|ry, by two princes, who equally pretended to the sovereignty, France espoused the cause of one com|petitor, and England of the other.

THE duke of Berwick, a natural son of James II. who abdicated England, commanded the Spanish and French forces, and defeated the English at the celebrated battle of Almanza. The army was then divided into two parts; the one consisting of Spa|niards and French, headed by the duke of Berwick, advanced towards Catalonia; the other body, con|sisting of French troops only, commanded by the duke of Orleans, proceeded to the conquest of Ar|ragon.

AS the troops drew near the city of Arragon, the magistrates came to offer the keys to the duke of Orleans; but he told them, haughtily, they were rebels, and that he would not accept the keys, for he had orders to enter the city through a breach.

HE accordingly made a breach in the wall with his cannon, and then entered the city through it, together with his whole army. When he had made every necessary regulation here, he departed to sub|due other places, leaving a strong garrison, at once to over-awe and defend, under the command of his lieutenant-general M. De Legal. This gentleman, though brought up a Roman catholic, was totally free from superstition: he united great talents with bravery; and was, at once, the skilful officer, and accomplished gentleman.

THE duke, before his departure, had ordered that heavy contributions should be levied upon the city in the following manner.

1. THAT the magistrates and principal inhabi|tants should pay a thousand crowns per month for the duke's table.

2. THAT every house should pay one pistole, which would monthly amount to 18,000 pistoles.

3. THAT every convent and monastery should pay a donative, proportionable to its riches and rents.

THE two last contributions to be appropriated to the maintenance of the army.

THE money levied upon the magistrates and principal inhabitants, and upon every house, was paid as soon as demanded; but when the proper persons applied to the heads of the convents and monasteries, they found that the ecclesiastics were not so willing, as other people, to part from their cash.

Of the donatives to be raised by the clergy:

The college of Jesuits was to pay 2000 pistoles.

Carmelites

1000

Augustins

1000

Dominicans

1000

M. De Legal sent to the jesuits a peremptory or|der to pay the money immediately. The superior of the jesuits returned for answer, that for the cler|gy to pay money to the army was against all eccle|siastical

immunities; and that he knew of no argu|ment which could authorize such a procedure. M. De Legal then sent four companies of dragoons to quarter themselves in the college, with this sar|castic message: "To convince you of the necessity of paying the money, I have sent four substantial arguments to your college, drawn from the system of military logic; and, therefore, hope you will not need any farther admonition to direct your conduct."

THESE proceedings greatly perplexed the jesuits, who dispatched an express to court to the king's confessor, who was of their order; but the dra|goons were much more expeditious in plundering and doing mischief, than the courier in his journey: so that the jesuits, seeing every thing going to rack and ruin, thought proper to adjust the matter ami|cably, and paid the money before the return of their messenger. The Augustins and Carmelites taking warning by what had happened to the jesuits, pru|dently went and paid the money, and by that means escaped the study of military arguments, and of being taught logic by the dragoons.

BUT the Dominicans, who are all familiars of, or agents dependent on the inquisition, imagined, that very circumstance would be their protection; but they were mistaken, for M. De Legal neither feared nor respected the inquisition. The chief of the Dominicans sent word to the military comman|der, that his order was poor, and had not any mo|ney whatever to pay the donative; for, says he, the whole wealth of the Dominicans consists only in the silver images of the apostles and saints, as large as life, which are placed in our church, and which it would be sacrilege to remove.

THIS insinuation was meant to terrify the French commander, whom the inquisitors imagine•• ••ould not dare to be so profane as to wish for the posses|sion of the prec••ous idols.

HE, however, sent word that the silver images would make admirable substitutes for money, and would be more in character in his possession, than in that of the Dominicans themselves, "For (says he) while you possess them, in the manner you do at present, they stand up in niches, useless and mo|tionless, without being of the least use to mankind in general, or even to yourselves; but, when they come into my possession, they shall be useful, I will put them in motion; for I intend to have them coined, when they may travel like the apostles, be beneficial in various places, and circulate for the universal service of mankind."

THE inquisitors were astonished at this treat|ment, which they never expected to receive, even from crowned heads; they therefore determined to deliver their precious images in a solemn proces|sion, that they might excite the people to an insur|rection. The Dominican friars were accordingly ordered to march to De Legal's house, with the silver apostles and saints, in a mournful manner, having lighted tapers with them, and bitterly crying all the way, heresy, heresy.

M. De Legal hearing of these proceedings, or|dered four companies of grenadiers to line the street which led to his house: each grenadier was order|ed to have his loaded fuzee in one hand, and a lighted taper in the other; so that the troops might either repel force with force, or do honour to the farcical solemnity.

THE friars did all they could to raise a tumult, but the common people were too much afraid of troops under arms to obey them; the silver images were therefore, of necessity, delivered up to M. De Legal, who sent them to the mint, and ordered them to be coined immediately.

THE project of raising an insurrection having failed, the inquisitors determined to excommunicate M. de Legal, unless he would release their precious silver saints from imprisonment in the mint, be••fore they were melted down, or otherwise muti|lated. The French commander absolutely refused ••o release the images, but said they should cer|tainly travel and do good; upon which the in|quisitors drew up the form of excommunication, and ordered their secretary to go and read it to 〈…〉〈…〉.

THE secretary punctually performed his commis|sion, and read the excommunication deliberately and distinctly. The French commander heard it

with great patience, and politely told the secretary he would answer it next day.

WHEN the secretary of the inquisition was gone, M. de Legal ordered his own secretary to prepare a form of excommunication, exactly like that sent by the inquisition; but to make this alteration, instead of his name, to put in those of the inquisitors.

THE next morning he ordered four regiments under arms, and commanded them to accompany his secretary and act as he directed.

THE secretary went to the inquisition, and insist|ed upon admittance; which, after a great deal of altercation, was granted. As soon as he entered, he read, in an audible voice, the excommunication sent by M. de Legal, against the inquisitors. The in|quisitors were all present, and heard it with astonish|ment, never having before met with any individual who dared behave so bold. They loudly cried out against De Legal, as an heretic; and said, this was a most daring insult against the catholic faith. But, to surprize them still more, the French secretary told them, they must remove from their present lodgings; for the French commander wanted to quarter the troops in the inquisition, as it was the most commodious place in the whole city.

THE inquisitors exclaimed loudly upon this oc|casion, when the secretary put them under a strong guard, and sent them to a place appointed by M. de Legal to receive them. The inquisitors, finding how things went, begged that they might be per|mitted to take their private property, which was granted, and they immediately set out for Madrid, where they made the most bitter complaints to the king; but the monarch told them, he could not grant them any redress, as the injuries they had re|ceived were from his grandfather, the king of France's troops, by whose assistance alone he could be firmly established in his kingdom. "Had it been my own troops, (said he) I would have punished them; but as it is, I cannot pretend to exert any authority."

IN the mean time, M. de Legal's secretary set open all the doors of the inquisition, and released the prisoners, who amounted in the whole to 400; and among these were 60 beautiful young women, who appeared to form a seraglio for the three prin|cipal inquisitors.

THIS discovery, which laid the enormity of the inquisitors so open, greatly alarmed the archbishop, who desired M. de Legal to send the women to his palace, and he would take proper care of them; and at the same time he published an ecclesiastical censure against all such as should ridicule, or blame, the holy office of the inquisition.

THE French commander sent word to the arch|bishop, that the prisoners had either ran away, or were so securely concealed by their friends, or even by his own officers, that it was impossible for him to send them back again; and, therefore, the in|quisition having committed such atrocious actions, must now put up with their exposure.

ONE of the ladies thus happily delivered from captivity, was afterwards married to the very French officer who opened the door of her dun|geon, and released her from confinement. This lady related the following circumstances to her hus|band, and to M. Gavin, (author of the Master Key to Popery) from the latter of whom we have selected the most material particulars.

"I went one day (says the lady) with my mo|ther, to visit the countess Attarass, and I met there Don Francisco Tirregon, her confessor, and second inquisitor of the holy office.

AFTER we had drank chocolate, he asked me my age, my confessor's name, and many intricate questions about religion. The severity of his countenance frightened me, which he perceiving, told the countess to inform me, that he was not so severe as he looked. He then caressed me in a most obliging manner, presented his hand, which I kissed with great reverence and modesty; and, as he went away, he made use of this remarkable ex|pression: My dear child, I shall remember you till the next time. I did not, at the time, mark 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sense of the words▪ for I was inexperienced in mat|ters of gallantry, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, at that time, but fifteen years old. Indeed, he unfortunately did remember me, for the very same night, when our whole fami|ly

were in bed, we heard a great knocking at the door.

THE maid, who laid in the same room with me, went to the window, and inquired who was there? The answer was, THE HOLY INQUISITION. On hearing this I screamed out, Father! father! dear father, I am ruined for ever! My father got up, and came to me to know the occasion of my crying out; I told him the inquisitors were at the door. On hearing this, instead of protecting me, he hur|ried down stairs as fast as possible; and, lest the maid should be too slow, opened the street door himself; under such abject and slavish fears are bi|gotted minds! as soon as he knew they came for me, he fetched me with great solemnity, and deli|vered me to the officers with much submission.

I was hurried into a coach, with no other cloath|ing than a petticoat and a mantle, for they would not let me stay to take any thing else. My fright was so great, I expected to die that very night; but judge my surprize, when I was ushered into an apartment, decorated with all the elegance that taste, united with opulence, could bestow.

SOON after the officers left me, a maid servant appeared with a silver salver, on which were sweat-meats and cinnamon water. She desired me to take some refreshments before I went to bed; I told her I could not, but should be glad if she could inform me whether I was to be put to death that night or not.

"TO be put to death! (exclaimed she) you do not come here to be put to death, but to live like a princess, and you shall want for nothing in the world, but the liberty of going out; so pray don't be afraid, but go to bed and sleep easy; for to|morrow you shall see wonders within this house; and as I am chosen to be your waiting maid, I hope you'll be very kind to me."

I was going to ask some questions, but she told me ••he must not answer any thing more till the next day, but assured me that nobody would come to disturb me: I am going (said she) about a little busi|ness, but I will come back presently, for my bed is in the closet next you ••s; so she left me for about a quarter of an hour, and then returned. She then said, madam, pray let me know when you will be pleased to have your chocolate ready in the morning.

THIS greatly surprized me, so that without re|plying to her question, I asked her name;—she said, my name is Mary. Mary, then, said I, for heaven's sake, tell me whether I am brought here to die or not?—I have told you already, replied she, that you come here to be one of the happiest ladies in the world.

WE then went to bed, but the fear of death prevented me from sleeping the whole night; Ma|ry waked, she was surprized to find me up, but soon rose, and after leaving me for ••bout half an hour, she brought in two cups of chocolate, and some biscuit on a silver plate.

I drank one cup of the chocolate, and desired her to drink the other, which she did; when we had done, I said, Well, Mary, can you give any ac|count of the reasons for my being brought here? To which she answered, Not yet, madam, you must have patience, and immediately slipped out of the room.

ABOUT half an hour after, she brought a great quantity of elegant clothes, suitable to a lady of the highest rank, and told me, I must dress myself. Among several trinkets which accompanied the clothes, I observed, with surprize, a snuff-box, i•• the lid of which was a picture of Don Francisco Tirregon. This unravelled to me the mystery of my confinement, and at the same time rouzed my imagination to contrive how to evade receiving the present. If I absolutely refused it, I thought im|mediate death must ensue; and to accept it, was giving him too much encouragement against 〈◊〉〈◊〉 honour. At length I hit upon a medium, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ Pray present my respects to Don Francisco Tirre|gon, and tell him, that, as I could not bring my clothes along with me last night, modesty 〈◊〉〈◊〉 me to accept of these garments, which are requisite to keep me decent; but since I do not take snuff, I hope his lordship will excuse me in not accepting 〈◊〉〈◊〉 box.

MARY went with my answer, and soon returned with Don Francisco's picture elegantly set in gold, and richly embellished with diamonds. This mes|sage accompanied it: "That his lordship had made a mistake; his intent not being to send me a snuff-box, but his picture." I was at a great loss what to do; when Mary said, pray, madam, take my poor advice; accept of the picture, and every thing else which his lordship sends you; for if you do not, he can compel you to what he pleases, and put you to death when he thinks proper, without any body being able to defend you. But if you are obliging to him, continued she, he will be very kind, and you will be as happy as a queen; you will have elegant apart|ments to live in, beautiful gardens to range in, and agreeable ladies to visit you: therefore, I advise you to send a civil answer, or even not to deny a visit from his lordship, or perhaps you may repent of your disrespect.

O, my God! exclaimed I, must I sacrifice my honour to my fears, and give up my virtue to his despotic power? Alas? what can I do? To resist, is vain. If I oppose his desires, force will obtain what chastity refuses. I now fell into the greatest agonies, and told Mary to return what answer she thought proper.

SHE said, she was glad of my humble submis|sion, and ran to acquaint Don Francisco with it. In a few minutes she returned, with joy in her countenance, telling me his lordship would honour me with his company to supper. "And now give me leave, madam, (says she) to call you mistress, for I am to wait upon you. I have been in the holy office 14 years, and know all the customs per|fectly well; but as silence is imposed upon me, un|der pain of death, I can only answer such questions as immediately relate to your own person. But I would advise you never to oppose the holy father's will; or if you see any young ladies about, never ask them any questions. You may divert yourself sometimes among them, but must never tell them any thing: three days hence you will dine with them; and at all time•• you may have music, and ••ther rec••••ations. In 〈◊〉〈◊〉, you will be so happy, that you will not wish to go abroad; and when your time is expired, the holy ••athers will send you out of this count••y, and marry you to some noble|man." After saying these words she left me, over|whelmed with astonishment, and scarce knowing what to think. As soon as I recovered myself I began to look about, and finding a closet, I opened it, and perceived that it was filled with books: they were chiefly upon historical and profane subjects, but not any on religious matters. I chose out a book of history, and so passed the interval with some degree of satisfaction, till dinner time.

THE dinner was served up with the greatest ele|gance, and consisted of all that could gratify the most luxurious appetite. When dinner was over, Mary left me, and told me, if I wanted any thing I might ring a bell, which she pointed out to me.

I read a book to amuse myself during the after|noon, and at seven in the evening Don Francisco came to visit me in his night-gown and cap, not with the gravity of an inquisitor, but with the gai|ty of a gallant.

HE saluted me with great respect, and told me, That he came to see me in order to shew the great respect he had for my family, and to inform me, that it was my lovers who had procured my con|finement, having accused me in matters of religion; and that the informations were taken, and the sen|tence pronounced against me, to be burnt alive in a dry pan, with a gradual fire; but that he, out of pity and love to my family, had stopped the execu|tion of it.

THESE words were like daggers to my heart; I dropped at his feet, and said, "Ah, my lord! have you stopped the execution for ever?" He re|plied, "That belongs to yourself only," and abruptly wished me good night.

AS soon as he was gone I bu••st into tears, when Mary came and asked me what could make me cry so bitterly. To which I answered, Oh, Mary! what is the meaning of the dry pan and gradual fire? for I am to die by them.

MADAM, said she, never fear, you shall see, ere long, the dry pan and gradual fire, but they are made for those who oppose the holy father's will, not for you who are so good as to obey it. But

pray, said she, was Don Francisco very obliging? I don't know, said I, for he frightened me out of my wits by his discourse: he saluted me with civi|lity, but left me abruptly.

WELL, said Mary, you do not yet know his temper: he is extremely obliging to them that are kind to him; but if they are disobedient, he is as unmerciful as Nero, so, for your sake, take care to oblige him in all respects: and now, dear ma|dam, pray go to supper and be easy. I went to supper, indeed, and afterwards to bed; but I could neither eat or sleep, for the thoughts of the dry pan and gradual fire deprived me of appetite, and banished drowsiness.

EARLY the next morning Mary said, that as no|body was stirring, if I would promise her secrecy, she would shew me the dry pan and gradual fire; so taking me down stairs, she brought me to a large room, with a thick iron door, which she opened. Within it was an oven, with fire in it at the time, and a large brass pan upon it, with a cover of the same, and a lo••k to it. In the next room there was a great wheel, covered on both sides with thick boards; opening a little window in the centre, Ma|ry desired me to look in with a candle; there I saw all the circumference of the wheel set with sharp razors, which made me shudder.

SHE then took me to a pit, which was full of ve|nemous animals. On my expressing great horror at the sight, she said, "Now, my good mistress, I'll tell you the use of these things. The dry pan is for heretics, and those who oppose the holy fa|ther's will and pleasure; they are put alive into the pan, being first stripped naked; and the cover be|ing locked down, the executioner begins to put a small fire into the oven, and by degrees he augments it, till the body is reduced to ashes. The wheel is designed for those who speak against the pope, or the holy fathers of the inquisition; for they are put into that machine through the little door, which is locked after them, and then the wheel is turned swiftly, till they are all cut to pieces. The pit is for those who contemn the images, and refuse to give proper respect to ecclesiastical persons; for they are thrown into the pit, and so become the food of poisonous animals."

WE went back again to my chamber, and Mary said, that another day she would shew me the tor|ments designed for other transgressors; but I was in such agonies at what I had seen, that I begged to be terrified with no more such sights. She soon af|ter left me, but not without enjoining my strict obedience to Don Francisco; for if you do not comply with his will, says she, the dry pan and gra|dual fire will be your fate.

THE horrors which the sight of these things, and Mary's expressions, impressed on my mind, almost bereaved me of my senses, and left me in such a state of stupefaction, that I seemed to have no man|ner of will of my own.

THE next morning Mary said, now let me dress you as nice as possible, for you must go and with Don Francisco good-morrow, and breakfast with him. When I was dressed, she conveyed me through a gallery into his apartment, where I found that he was in bed. He ordered Mary to with|draw, and to serve up breakfast in about two hou•••• time. When Mary was gone, he commanded me to undress myself, and come to bed to him. The manner in which he spoke, and the dreadful ideas with which my mind was filled, so terribly frighten|ed me, that I pulled off my clothes, without know|ing what I did, and stepped into bed, insensible of the indecency I was transacting: so totally had the care of self-preservation absorbed all my other thoughts, and so intirely were the ideas of delicacy obliterated by the force of terror!

THUS, to avoid the dry pan, did I entail upon myself perpetual infamy; and to escape the so much dreaded gradual fire, give myself up to the flames of lust. Wretched alternative, where the only choice is an excruciating death, or everlasting pollution!

MARY came at the expiration of two hours, and served us with chocolate in the most submissive man|ner; for she kneeled down by the bed-side to pre|sent it. When I was dressed, Mary took me into a very delightful apartment, which I had never yet seen. It was furnished with the most costly ele|gance; but what gave me the greatest astonishment was, the prospect from its windows, of a beautiful

garden, 〈…〉〈…〉 meandering river. Mary told me, that the young ladies she had mentioned would come to pay their compliments to me before din|ner, and begged me to remember her advice, in keeping a prudent guard over my tongue.

IN a few minutes a great number of very beau|tiful young ladies, richly dressed, entered the room, and successively embracing me, wished me joy. I was so surprized, that I was unable to answer their compliments; which one of the ladies perceiving, said, "Madam, the solitude of this place will af|fect you in the beginning, but when you begin to feel the pleasures and amusements you may enjoy, you will quit those pensive thoughts. We, at pre|sent, beg the honour of you to dine with us to-day, and henceforward three days in a week." I return|ed them suitable thanks in general terms, and so went to dinner, in which the most exquisite and sa|vory dishes, of various kinds, were served up with the most delicate and pleasant fruits and sweet-meats. The room was long, with two tables on each side, and a third in the front. I reckoned fifty-two young ladies, the eldest not exceeding twenty-four years of age. There were five maid servants, besides Mary, to wait upon us; but Mary confined her attention to me alone. After dinner we retired to a capacious gallery, where some played on musical instruments, a few diverted themselves with cards, and the rest amused themselves with walking about. Mary, at length, entered the gallery, and said, Ladies, this is a day of recreation, and so you may go into whatever rooms you please, till eight o'clock in the evening.

THEY unanimously agreed to adjourn to my apartment. Here we found a most elegant cold col|lation, of which all the ladies partook, and passed the time in innocent conversation, and harmless mirth: but none mentioned a word concerning the inquisition, or the holy fathers, or gave the least distant hint concerning the cause of their con|finement.

AT eight o'clock Mary rang a bell, which was a signal for all to retire to their respective apartments, and I was conducted to the chamber of Don Francis|co, where I slept. The next morning Mary brought me a richer dress than any I had yet had; and as soon as I had retired to my apartment, all the la+dies came to wish me good-morning, dressed much richer than the preceding day. We passed the time till eight o'clock in the evening, in much the same manner as we had done the day before. At that time the bell rung, the separation took place, and I was conducted to Don Francisco's chamber. The next morning I had a garment richer than the last, and they accosted me in apparel still more sumptu|ous than before. The transactions of the two for|mer days were repeated on the third, and the even|ing in a similar manner.

ON the fourth morning Mary came into Don Francisco's chamber, and told me I must immedi|ately rise, for a lady wanted me in her own cham|ber. She spoke with a kind of authority which surprized me; but as Don Francisco did not speak a syllable, I got up and obeyed. Mary then con|veyed me into a dismal dungeon, not eight feet in length; and said, sternly, to me, This is your room, and this lady your bed-fellow and compa|nion. At which word she bounced out of the room, and left me in the utmost consternation.

AFTER remaining a considerable time in the most dreadful agonies, tears came to my relief, and I exclaimed, "What is this place, dear lady; Is it a scene of enchantment, or is it a hell upon earth? Alas! I have lost my honour, and my soul for ever!"

THE lady took me by the hand, and said, in a sympathizing tone of voice, "Dear sister, (for this is the name I shall henceforth give you) forbear to cry and grieve, for you can do nothing by such an extravagant behaviour, but draw upon yourself a cruel death. Your misfortunes, and those of all the ladies you have seen, are exactly of a piece: you suffer nothing but what we have suffered before you; but we dare not shew our grief, for fear of greater evils. Pray take courage, and hope in God, for he will surely deliver us from this hellish place; but be sure you discover no uneasines•• be|fore Mary, who is the only instrument either of our torments, or comfort. Have patience until we

go to bed, and then I will venture to tell you more of the matter.

MY perplexity and vexation were inexpressible; but my new companion, whose name was Leonora, prevailed on me to disguise my uneasiness from Mary. I dissembled tolerably well when she came to bring our dinners; but could not help remark|ing, in my own mind, the difference beween this repast, and those I had before partook of. This consisted only of plain, common food, and that of a scanty allowance, with only one plate, and one knife and fork for us both, which she took away as soon as we had dined.

WHEN we were in bed, Leonora was as good as her word; and upon my solemn promise of secre|cy, thus began to open her mind to me:

"MY dear sister, you think your case is very hard, but, I assure you, all the ladies in the house have gone through the same. In time you will know all their stories, as they hope to know your's. I suppose Mary has been the chief instrument of your fright, as she has been of our's; and I war|rant she has shewn you some horrible places, though not all; and that, at the very thought of them, you were so terrified, that you chose the same way we have done, to redeem yourself from death. By what hath happened to us, we know that Don Fran|cisco hath been your Nero, your tyrant; for the three colours of our clothes are the distinguishing tokens of the three holy fathers. The red silk belongs to Don Francisco, the blue to Don Guer|rero, and the Green to Don Aliaga; and they al-give those colours (after the farce of changing gar|ments, and the short-lived ••ecreations are over) to those ladies whom they bring here for their respec|tive uses.

"WE are strictly commanded to express all the demonstrations of joy, and to be very merry for three days, when a young lady first comes amongst us, as we did with you, and as you must now do with others. But afterwards we live like the most wretched prisoners, without seeing any body but Mary, and the other maid-servants, over whom Mary hath a kind of superiority, for she acts as house-keeper. We all dine in the great hall three days in a week; and when any one of the inquisi|tors hath a mind for one of his slaves, Mary comes about nine o'clock, and leads her to his apartment.

"SOME nights Mary leaves the doors of our chambers open, and that is a token that one of the inquisitors hath a mind to come that night; but he comes so silent, that we are ignorant whether he is our patron or not. If one of us happens to be with child, she is removed into a better chamber till she is delivered; but during the whole of her pregnancy, she never sees any body but the person appointed to attend her.

"AS soon as the child is born it is taken away, and carried we know not whither; for we never hear a syllable mentioned about it afterwards. I have been in this house six years, was not fourteen when then the officers took me from my father's house, and have had one child. There are, at this present time, fifty-two young ladies in the house; but we annually lose six or eight, though we know not what becomes of them, or whither they are sent. This, however, does not diminish our num|ber, for new ones are always brought in to supply the place of those who are removed from hence; and I remember, at one time, to have seen seventy-three ladies here together. Our continual torment is to reflect that when they are tired of any of the ladies, they certainly put to death those they pre|tend to send away; for it is natural to think, that they have too much policy to suffer their atrocious and infernal villainies to be discovered, by enlarging them. Hence our situation is miserable indeed, and we have only to pray that the Almighty will pardon those crimes, which we are compelled to commit. Therefore, my dear sister, arm yourself with patience, for that is the only palliative to give you comfort, and put a firm confidence in the pro|vidence of Almighty God."

THIS discourse of Leonora greatly affected me; but I found every thing to be as she told me in the course of ti••e, and I took care to appear as chear|ful as possible before Mary. In this manner I con|tinued eighteen months, during which time eleven ladies were taken from the house; but in lieu of them we got nineteen new ones, which made our number just sixty, at the time we were so happily

relieved by the French officers, and providentially restored to the joys of society, and to the arms of our parents and friends. On that happy day, the door of my dungeon was opened by the gentleman who is now my husband, who, with the utmost ex|pedition, sent both Leonora and me to his father's; and (soon after the campaign was over) when he returned home, he thought proper to make me his wife, in which situation I enjoy a recompence for all the miseries I before suffered.

FROM the foregoing narrative it is evident, that the inquisitors are a set of libidinous villains, lost to every just idea of religion, and totally destitute of humanity. Those who possess wealth, beauty, or liberal sentiments, are sure to find enemies in them. Avarice, lust, and prejudice, are their ru|ling passions; and they sacrifice every law, human and divine, to gratify their predominant desire. Their supposed piety is affectation; their pretended compassion hypocrisy; their justice depends on their will; and their equitable punishments founded on their prejudices. None are secure from them; all ranks fall equally victims to their pride, their power, or their aversion.

SOME may suggest, that it is strange crowned heads, and eminent nobles, have not attempted to crush the power of the inquisition, and reduce the authority of those ecclesiastical tyrants, from whose merciless fangs neither their families or themselves are secure.

BUT astonishing as it is, superstition hath, in this case, always overcome common sense, and cus|tom operated against reason. One prince, indeed, intended to abolish the inquisition, but he lost his life before he became king, and consequently before he had the power so to do; for the very intimation of his design procured his destruction.

THIS was that amiable prince Don Carlos, son of Philip the Second, king of Spain, and grand|son of the celebrated emperor Charles V. Don Carlos possessed all the good qualities of his grand|father, without any of the bad ones of his father; and was a prince of great vivacity, admirable learn|ing, and the most amiable disposition. He had sense enough to see into the errors of popery, and abhorred the very name of the inquisition. He inveighed publicly against the institution, ridiculed the affected piety of the inquisitors, did all he could to expose their atrocious deeds, and even declared, that if ever he came to the crown, he would abo|lish the inquisition, and exterminate its agents.

THESE things were sufficient to irritate the inqui+sitors against the prince: they, accordingly, bent their minds to vengeance, and determined on his destruction.

THE inquisitors now employed all their agents and emissaries to spread abroad the most artful insi|nuations against the prince; and, at length, raised such a spirit of discontent among the people, that the king was under the necessity of removing Don Carlos from court. Not content with this, they pursued even his friends, and obliged the king like|wise to banish Don John, duke of Austria, his own brother, and consequently uncle to the prince; together with the prince of Parma, nephew to the king, and cousin to the prince, because they well knew that both the duke of Austria, and the prince of Parma, had a most sincere and inviolable attach+ment to Don Carlos.

SOME few years after, the prince having shewn great lenity and favour to the protestants in the Ne|therlands, the inquisition loudly exclaimed against him, declaring, that as the persons in question were heretics, the prince himself must necessarily be one, since he gave them countenance. In short, they gained so great an ascendancy over the mind of the king, who was absolutely a slave to supersti+tion, that, shocking to relate, he sacrificed the feelings of nature to the force of bigotry, and for fear of incurring the anger of the inquisition, gave up his only son, passing the sentence of death on him himself.

THE prince, indeed, had what was termed an indulgence▪ that is, he was permitted to chuse the manner of his death Roman like, the un|fortunate young he••o chose bleeding, and the hot bath; when the veins of his arms and legs being opened, he expired gradually, falling a martyr to the malice of the inquisitors, and the stupid bigotry of his father.

The Persecution of Dr. AEGIDIO.

DR. AEGIDIO was educated at the university of Alcala, where he took his several degrees, and particularly applied himself to the study of the sacred scriptures and school divinity. The profes|sor of theology dying, he was elected into his place, and acted so much to the satisfaction of eve|ry one, that his reputation for learning and piety was circulated throughout Europe.

AEGIDIO however had his enemies, and these laid a complaint against him to the inquisitors, who sent him a citation, and when he appeared to it, cast him into a dungeon.

AS the greatest part of those who belonged to the cathedral church at Seville, and many persons belonging to the bishopric of Dortois, highly ap|proved of the doctrines of Aegidio, which they thought perfectly consonant with true religion, they petitioned the emperor in his behalf. Though the monarch had been educated a Roman catholic, he had too much sense to be a bigot; and therefore sent an immediate order for his enlargement.

HE soon after visited the church of Valladolid, did every thing he could to promote the cause of religion, and returning home he soon after fell sick, and died in an extreme old age.

THE inquisitors, having been disappointed of gratifying their malice against him, while living, determined (as the emperor's whole thoughts were engrossed by a military expedition) to wreak their vengeance on him when dead. Therefore, soon after he was buried, they ordered his remains to be dug out of the grave; and a legal process being carried on, they were condemned to be burnt, which was executed accordingly.

The Persecution of Dr. CONSTANTINE.

DR. CONSTANTINE, an intimate acquaint|ance of the already mentioned Dr. Aegidio, was a man of uncommon natural abilities and pro|found learning; exclusive of several modern tongues, he was acquainted with the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew languages, and perfectly well knew not only the sciences called abstruse, but those arts which come under the denomination of po|lite literature.

HIS eloquence rendered him a pleasing, and the soundness of his doctrines a profitable, preacher; and he was so popular, that he never preached but to a crowded audience. He had many opportuni|ties of rising in the church, but never would take advantage of them: for if a living of greater value than his own was offered him, he would refuse it, saying, I am content with what I have; and he frequently preached so forcibly against simony, that many of his superiors, who were not so delicate upon the subject, took umbrage at his doctrines up|on that head.

HAVING been fully confirmed in protestantism by Dr. Aegidio, he preached boldly such doctrines only as were agreeable to gospel purity, and uncontami|nated by the errors which had at various times crept into the Romish church. For these reasons he had many enemies among the Roman catholics, and some of them were fully determined on his de|struction.

A worthy gentleman, named Scobaria, having erected a school for divinity lectures, appointed Dr. Constantine to be reader therein. He imme|diately undertook the task, and read lectures, by portions, on the Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and Canti|cles; and was beginning to expound the book of Job, when he was seized by the inquisitors.

BEING brought to examination, he answered with such precaution that they could not find any explicit charge against him, but remained doubtful in what manner to proceed, when the following circum|stance occurred to determine them:

DR. Constantine had deposited with a woman, named Isabella Martin, several books, which to him were very valuable, but which he knew, in the eyes of the inquisition, were exceptionable.

THIS woman having being informed against as a protestant, was apprehended, and, after a small pro|cess,

her goods were ordered to be confiscated. Previous, however, to the officers coming to her house, the woman's son had removed away several chests full of the most valuable articles; and among these were Dr. Constantine's books.

A treacherous servant giving intelligence of this to the inquisitors, an officer was dispatched to the son to demand the chests. The son, supposing the officer only came for Constantine's books and pa|pers, said, I know what you come for, and I will fetch them to you immediately. He then fetched Dr. Constantine's books and papers, when the of|ficer was greatly surprized to find what he did not look for. He, however, told the young man, that he was glad these books and papers were produced, but nevertheless he must fulfil the end of his com|mission, which was, to carry him and the goods he had embezzled before the inquisitors, which he did accordingly; for the young man knew it would be in vain to expostulate, or resist, and therefore quiet|ly submitted to his fate.

THE inquisitors being thus possessed of Constan|tine's books and writings, now found matter suffi|cient to form charges against him. When he was brought to a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 examination, they presented one of his papers, and asked him if he knew the hand|writing? Perceiving it was his own, he guessed the whole matter, confessed the writing, and justi|fied the doctrine it contained; saying, "In that, and all my other writings, I have never departed from the truth of the gospel, but have always kept in view the pure precepts of Christ, as he delivered ed them to mankind.

AFTER being detained upwards of two years in prison, Dr. Constantine was seized with a bloody flux, which put an end to his miseries in this world. The process, however, was carried on against his body, which, at the ensuing Auto de Fe, was pub|licly burnt.

The Martyrdom of NICHOLAS BURTON.

MR. BURTON was a merchant of London, who traded into Spain. Being at Cadiz, a familiar of the inquisition called upon him one day at his lodgings, pretending that he wanted to send a quantity of merchandize to London. Having asked as many questions as he thought proper, he departed, and Mr. Burton was next day taken into custody by one of the inquisitorial officers.

ON his examination the president demanded if he had, by words or writing, said or insinuated any thing disrespectful to the Roman catholic per|suasion.

TO this Mr. Burton replied in the negative; saying, That he was sensible, in whatever country we were, respect ought to be paid to the religion of that country: that such knowledge to him was es|sential, who, as a merchant was obliged to visit various countries, and conform to the religious and civil ceremonies of all.

THIS defence, however, availed nothing; they proceeded to torture him, in order to gain informa|tion. Failing in this, they condemned him for in|vincible obstinacy, and at the next Auto de Fe he was burnt. When the flames first touched him, he bore the torments with such exemplary patience, and appeared with so smiling a countenance, that one of the priests, enraged at his serenity, said with great malice and absurdity, "The reason why he does not seem to feel is to me very evident; the devil has already got his soul, and his body is of course deprived of the usual sensations."

ABOUT the time of Mr. Burton's martyrdom, several others of the English in Spain were put to death by the inquisitors; particularly John Baker, William Burgate, and William Burgess were burnt, and William Hooker was stoned to death; freely giving up their lives for him, who shed his blood for them.

The Life of WILLIAM GARDENER.

WILLIAM GARDENER was born at Bris|tol, received a tolerable education, and was, at a proper age, placed under the care of a mer|chant, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Paget.

AT the age of twenty-six years, he was, by his

master, sent to Lisbon, to act as factor. Here he applied himself to the study of the Portuguese lan|guage, executed his business with assiduity and fi|delity, and behaved with the most engaging affabi|lity to all persons with whom he had the least con|cern. He conversed privately with a few, whom he knew to be zealous protestants; and, at the same time, cautiously avoided giving the least offence to any who were Roman catholics: he had not, however, hitherto gone into any of the popish churches.

A marriage being concluded between the king of Portugal's son and the Infanta of Spain, upon the wedding day the bridegroom, bride, and the whole court went to the cathedral church, attended by multitudes of all ranks of people, and among the rest William Gardener, who stayed during the whole ceremony, and was greatly shocked at the supersti|tions he saw.

THE erroneous worship which he had seen ran strongly in his mind; he was miserable, to behold a whole country sunk into such idolatry, when the truth of the gospel might be so easily obtained. He, therefore, took the inconsiderate, though laud|able design, into his h••••d, of making a reform in Portugal, or perishing in the attempt; and deter|mined to sacrifice his prudence to his zeal, though he became a martyr upon the occasion.

TO this end he settled all his worldly affairs, paid his debts, closed his books, and consigned over his merchandize. On the ensuing Sunday he went again to the cathedral church, with a New Testa|ment in his hand, and placed himself near the altar.

THE king and the court soon appeared, and a cardinal began mass: at that part of the ceremony in which the people adore the wafer, Gardener could hold out no longer, but springing towards the car|dinal, he snatched the host from him, and trampled it under his feet.

THIS action amazed the whole congregation, and one person drawing a dagger, wounded Gardener in the shoulder, and would, by repeating the blow, have finished him, had not the king called to him to desist.

GARDENER being carried before the king, the monarch asked him what countryman he was: to which he replied, I am an Englishman by birth, a protestant by religion, and a merchant by occupa|tion. What I have done is not out of contempt to your royal person, God forbid it should, but out of honest indignation, to see the ridiculous supersti|tions and gross idolatries practised here.

THE king, thinking that he had been stimulated by some other person to act as he had done, de|manded who was his abettor; to which he replied, My own conscience alone. I would not hazard what I have done for any man living, but I owe that and all other services to God.

GARDENER was sent to prison, and a general or|der issued to apprehend all Englishmen at Lisbon. This order was in a great measure put into execu|tion, (some few escaping) and many innocent persons were tortured to make them confess if they knew any thing of the matter; in particular, a person who resided in the same house with Gardener, was treated with unparalleled barbarity to make him confess something which might throw a light upon the affair.

GARDENER himself was then tormented in the most excruciating manner: but in the midst of all his torments he gloried in the deed. Being or|dered for death, a large fire was kindled near a gib|bet, Gardener was drawn up to the gibbet by pul|lies, and then let down near the fire, but not so close as to touch it; for they burnt or rather roast|ed him by slow degrees. Yet he bore his suffer|ings patiently, and resigned his soul to the Lord chearfully.

IT is observable that some of the sparks were blown from the fire, (which consumed Gardener towards the haven, burnt one of the king's ships of war, and did other considerable damage. The En|glishmen who were taken up on this occasion were soon after Gardener's death, all discharged, except the person that resided in the same house with him.

who was detained two years before he could pro|cure his liberty.

An Account of the Life and Sufferings of Mr. WILLIAM LITHGOW, a Native of Scotland.

THIS gentleman was descended from a good family, and having a natural propensity to travelling, he rambled, when very young, over the northern and western islands; after which he visited France, Germany, Switzerland, and Spain. He set out on his travels in the month of March, 1609. and the first place he went to was Paris, where he stayed for some time. He then prosecuted his tra|vels through Germany and other parts, and ••t length arrived at Malaga in Spain, the sea•• of all his misfortunes.

DURING his residence here, he contracted with the master of a French ship for his passage to Alex|andria, but was prevented from going by the fol|lowing circumstances. In the evening of the 17th of October, 1620, the English fleet, at that time on a cruise against the Algerine rovers, came to anchor before Malaga, which threw the people of the town into the greatest consternation, as they imagined them to be Turks. The morning, however, dis|covered the mistake, and the governor of Malaga perceiving the cross of England in their colours, went on board Sir Robert Mansell's ship, who commanded on that expedition, and after staying some time returned, and silenced the fears of the people.

THE next day many persons from on board the fleet came ashore. Among these were several well known by Mr. Lithgow, who, after reciprocal com|pliments, spent some days together in festivity and the amusements of the town. They then invited Mr. Lithgow to go on board, and pay his respects to the admiral. He accordingly accepted the invi|tation, was kindly received by him, and detained till the next day, whan the fleet sailed. The ad|miral would willingly have taken Mr. Lithgow with him to Algier•••• but having contracted for his passage to Alexandria, and his baggage, &c. being in the town, he could not accept the offer.

AS soon as Mr. Lithgow got on shore he pro|ceeded towards his lodgings by a private way, (be|ing to embark the same night for Alexandria) when, in passing through a narrow, uninhabited street, he found himself suddenly surrounded by nine ser|jeants, or officers, who threw a black cloak over him, and forcibly conducted him to the governor's house. After some little time the governor ap|peared, when Mr. Lithgow earnestly begged he might be informed of the caus•• of such violent treatment. The governor only ans••••••ed, ••y sha|king his head, and gave orders that the prisoner should be strictly watched till he (the go••••rnor) returned from his devotions; dir••cting, at the same time, th••t the captain of the town, the alcaid major, and ••own notary, should be summoned to appear at his e••amination, and that all this should 〈◊〉〈◊〉 done with the greatest secrecy▪ to prevent the knowled•••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 reaching the ears of the English merchants then residing in the town.

THESE orders were strictly discharged, and on the governor's return, he with the officers having seated themselves, Mr. Lithgow was brought be|fore them for examination. The governor began by asking several questions, namely, of what coun|try he was, whither bound, and how long he had been in Spain. The prisoner, after answering these, and other questions, was conducted to a closet, where, in a short space of time, he was visited by the town-captain, who inquired whether he had ever been at Seville, or was lately come from thence; and patting his cheeks with an air of friendship, conjured him to tell the truth: "For (said he) your very countenance shews there is some hidden matter in your mind, which prudence should direct you to disclose." Finding himself, however, unable to extort any thing from the prisoner, he left him, and reported the same to the governor and the other officers; on which Mr. Lithgow was again brought before them, a general accusa|tion was laid against him, and he was compelled to swear that he would give true answers to such ques|tions as should be asked him.

THE governor then proceeded to inquire the

quality of the English commander, and the prison|er's opinion what were the motives that prevented his accepting an invitation from him to come on shore. He demanded, likewise, the names of the English captains in the squadron, and what know|ledge he had of the embarkation, or preparation for it before its departure from England. The an|swers given to the several questions asked were set down in writing by the notary; but the ••unto seemed surprized at his denying any knowledge of the sitting out of the fleet, particularly the gover|nor, who said he lied, that he was a traitor and spy, and came directly to favour and assist in the design•• that were projected against Spain; and that he had been for that purpose nine months in Seville, in order to procure intelligence of the time the Spanish navy was expected from the Indies. They exclaimed against his familiarity with the officers of the fleet, and many other English gentlemen, be|tween whom, they said, unusual civilities had pas|sed, but all these transactions had been carefully no|ticed.

BESIDES, to sum up the whole, and put the truth past all doubt, they said, he came from a council of war, held that morning on board the admiral's ship, in order to put in execution the orders assign|ed him. They upbraided him with being accessary to the burning of the island of St. Thomas, in the West Indies; "Wherefore (said they) these Lu|therans, and sons of the devil, ought to have no credit given to what they say or swear."

IN vain did Mr Lithgow endeavour to obviate every accusation laid against him, and to obtain be|lief from his prejudiced judges. He begged per|mission to send for his cloak-bag, which contained his papers, and might serve to shew his innocence. This request ••hey complied with, thinking it would discover some things of which they were ignorant. The cloak-bag was accordingly brought, and be|ing opened, among other things, was found a li|cence from king James the First, under the sign manual, setting forth the bearer's intention to tra|vel into Egypt; which was treated by the haughty Spaniards with great contempt. The other papers consisted of passports, testimonials, &c. of persons of quality. All these credentials, however, seem|ed rather to confirm than abate the suspicions of th••se prejudiced judges, who after se••••ing all the prisoner's papers, ordered him again to withdraw.

IN the mean time a consultation was held to fix the place where the prisoner should be confined. The al••ade, or chief judge, was for putting him in the town prison; but this was objected to, par|ticularly by the corrigidore, who said, in Spanish, "In order to prevent the knowledge of his con|finement from reaching his countrymen, I will take the matter on myself, and be answerable for the consequences;" upon which it was agreed, that he should be confined in the governor's house with the greatest secrecy.

THIS matter being determined, one of the ser|jeants went to Mr. Lithgow, and begged his mo|ney, with liberty to search him. As it was need|less to make any resistance, the prisoner quietly complied, the serjeant (after rifling his pockets of eleven duca••oon••) stripped him to his shirt; and searching his breeches, he found, inclosed in the waistband, two canvas bags, containing one hun|dred and thirty-seven pieces of gold. The ser|jeant immediately took the money to the corrigi|dore, who, after having told it over, ordered him to clothe the prisoner, and shut him up close till after supper.

ABOUT midnight the searjeant and two Turkish slaves released Mr. Lithgow from his then confine|ment, but it was to introduce him to one much more horrible. They conducted him through se|veral passages, to a chamber in a remote part of the palace, towards the garden, where they loaded him with irons, and extended his legs by means of an iron bar above a yard long, the weight of which was so great that he could ••••ither stand nor sit, but was obliged to lie continually on his back. They left him in this condition for some time, when they returned with a refreshment of food, consisting of a pound of boiled mutton and a loaf, together with a small quantity of wine; which was not only the first, but the best and last of the kind, during his confinement in this place. After delivering these articles, the serjeant locked the door, and left Mr. Lithgow to his own private contemplations.

THE next day he received a visit from the go|vernor,

who promised him his liberty, with many other advantages, if he would confess being a spy; but on his protesting that he was entirely innocent, the governor left him in a rage, saying, He should see him no more till farther torments constrained him to confess; commanding the keeper, to whose care he was committed, that he should permit no person whatever to have access to, or commune with him; that his sustenance should not exceed three ounces of musty bread, and a pint of water every second day; that he should be allowed nei|ther bed, pillow, nor coverlid. "Close up, said he, this window in his room with lime and stone; stop up the holes of the door with double mats: let him have nothing that bears any likeness to com|fort." These, and several other orders of the like severity, were given to render it impossible for his condition to be known to those of the English nation.

IN this wretched and melancholy state did poor Lithgow continue without seeing any person for se|veral days, in which time the governor r••••••••ved an answer to a letter he had written, relative to the pri|soner, from Madrid; and, pursuant to the instruc|tions given him, began to put in practice the cruel|ties devised, which they hastened, because Christ|mas holy••days approached, it being then the forty-seventh day s••nce his imprisonment.

ABOUT two o'clock in the morning, he heard a noise of a ••••ach in the street, and some time af|ter heard the opening of the prison doors, not ha|ving had any sleep for two nights; hunger, pain, and melancholy reflections having prevented him from taking any repose.

SOON after the prison doors were opened, the nine serjeants, who had first seized him, with the notary, entered the place where he lay, and without uttering a word conducted him in his irons, through the house into the street, where a coach waited, and into which they laid him at the bottom on his back, not being able to sit. Two of the serjeants rode with him, and the rest walked by the coach side, but all observed the most profound silence. They drove him to a vine-press house, about a league from the town, to which place a rack had been privately conveyed before; and here they shut him up for that night.

AT day-break the next morning, arrived the go|vernor and alcade, into whose presence Mr. Lith|gow was immediately brought to undergo another examination. The prisoner desired he might have an interpreter, which was allowed to strangers by the laws of that country, but this was refused, nor would they permit him to appeal to Madrid, the superior court of judicature. After a long exami|nation, which lasted from morning till night, there appeared in all his answers so exact a conformity with what he had before said, that they declared he had learned them by heart, there not being the least prevarication. They, however, pressed him again to make a full discovery; that is, to accuse himself of crimes never committed, the governor adding, "You are still in my power; I can set you free if you comply: if not, I must deliver you to the alcade." Mr. Lithgow still persisting in his inno|cence, the governor ordered the notary to draw up a warrant for delivering him to the alcade to be tor|tured.

IN consequence of this he was conducted by the serjeants to the end of a stone gallery, where the rack was placed. The encaroudor, or executioner, immediately struck off his irons, which put him to very great pain, the bolts being so close rivet|ted, that the sledge hammer tore away above half an inch of his heel, in forcing off the bolt; the anguish of which, together with his weak condi|tion (not having the least sustenance for three days), occasioned him to groan bitterly; upon which the merciless alcade said, "Villain, traitor, this is but the earnest of what you shall endure."

WHEN his irons were off he fell upon his knees, uttering a short prayer, that God would be pleased to enable him to be stedfast, and undergo courage|ously the grievous trial he had to encounter. The alcade and notary having placed themselves in chairs, he was stripped naked, and fixed upon the rack, the office of these gentlemen being to be wit|ness of, and set down the confessions and tortures endured by the delinquent.

IT is impossible to describe all the various tor|tures

inflicted upon him. Suffice it to say, that he lay on the rack for the space of five hours, during which time he received above sixty different tor|tures of the most hellish nature; and had they con|tinued them a few minutes longer, he must have in|evitably perished.

THESE cruel persecutors being satisfied for the present, the prisoner was taken from the rack, and his irons being again put on, he was conducted to his former dungeon, having received no other nou|rishment than a little warm wine, which was given him rather to prevent his dying, and reserve him for future punishments, than from any principle of charity or compassion.

AS a confirmation of this, orders were given for a coach to pass every morning before day by the prison; that the noise made by it might give fresh terrors and alarms to the unhappy prisoner, and deprive him of all possi••••lity of obtaining the least repose.

HE continued in this horrid situation, almost starved for want of the common necessaries to pre|serve his wretched existence, till Christmas-day, when he received some relief from Mariane, wait|ing woman to the governor's lady. This woman having obtained leave to visit him, carried with her some refreshments, consisting of honey, sugar, raisins, and other articles: and so affected was she at beholding his situation, that she wept bitterly, and at her departure expressed the greatest concern at not being able to give him farther assist|ance.

IN this loathsome dungeon was poor Mr. Lith|gow kept till he was almost devoured with vermin. They crawled about his beard, lips, eye-brows, &c. so that he could scarce open his eyes; and his mor|tification was increased by not having the use of his hands or legs to defend himself, from his being so miserably maimed by the tortures. So cruel was the governor, that he even ordered the vermin to be swept on him twice in every eight days. He, however, obtained some little mitigation of this part of his punishment, from the humanity of a Turkish slave that attended him, who, at times, when he could do it with safety, destroyed the ver|min, and contributed every refreshment to him that laid in his power.

FROM this slave Mr. Lithgow at length received that information which gave him little hopes of ever being released, but, on the contrary, that he should finish his life under new tortures. The substance of this information was, that an English seminary priest, and a Scotch cooper, had been for some time employed by the governor to translate from the English into the Spanish language, all his books and observations; and that it was commonly said in the governor's house, that he was an arch heretic.

THIS information greatly alarmed him, and he began, not without reason, to fear that they would soon finish him, more especially as they could nei|ther, by torture, or any other means, bring him so vary from what he had all along said at his different examinations.

TWO days after he had received the above in|formation, the governor, an inquisitor, and a ca|nonical priest, accompanied by two Jesuits, entered his dungeon, and being seated, after several idle questions, the inquisitor asked Mr. Lithgow if he was a Roman catholic, and acknowledged the pope's supremacy? He answered, that he neither was the one, nor did the other; adding, that he was surprized at being asked such questions, since it was expressly stipulated by the articles of peace between England and Spain, that none of the En|glish subjects should be liable to the inquisition, or any way molested by them on account of diversity in religion, &c. In the bitterness of his soul ••e made use of some warm expressions not suited 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his circumstances: "As you have almost murdered me (said he) for pretended treason, so now you in|tend to make a martyr of me for my religion." He also expostulated with the governor on the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 return he made the king of England, (whose sub|ject he was) for the princely humanity exercised to|wards the Spaniards in 1588, when their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was shipwrecked on the Scotch coast, and thou|sands of the Spaniards found relief, who must have otherwise miserably perished.

THE governor admitted the truth of what Mr. Lithgow said, but replied with an haughty air,

that the king, who then only ruled Scotland, was actuated mo••e by fear than love, and therefore did not deserve any thanks. One of the jesuits said, there was no faith to be kept with heretics. The inquisitor then rising, addressed himself to Mr. Lithgow in the following words: "You have been taken up as a spy, accused of treachery, and ••••rtured, as we acknowledge, innocently; (which appears by the account lately received from Madrid of the intentions of the English) yet it was the divine power that brought those judge|ments upon you, for presumptuously treating the blessed miracle of Loretto with ridicule, and ex|pressing yourself in your writings irreverently of his holiness, the great agent and Christ's vicar up|on earth; therefore you are justly fallen into our hands by their special appointment: thy books and papers are miraculously translated by the assistance of Providence influencing thy own countrymen."

THIS trumpery being ended, they gave the pri|soner eight days to consider and resolve whether he would become a convert to their religion; during which time the inquisitor told him he, with other religious orders, would attend, to give him such assistance thereto as he might want. One of the jesuits said, (first making the sign of the cross upon his breast) "My son, behold, you deserve to be burnt alive; but by the grace of our lady of Lo|retto, whom you have blasphemed, we will both save your soul and body."

IN the morning, the inquisitor with the three ecclesiastics returned, when the former asked the prisoner what difficulties he had on his conscience that retarded his conversion; to which he answered, "he had not any doubts in his mind, being confi|dent in the promises of Christ, and assuredly be|lieving his revealed will signified in the gospels, as professed in the reformed catholic church, being con••••••••ed by grace, and having infallible assurance thereby of the true christian faith." To these words the inquisitor replied, "Thou art no chris|tian, but an absurd heretic, and without conversion a member of perdition." The prisoner then told him, it was not consistent with the nature and es|sence of religion and charity, to convince by op|probrious speeches, racks, and torments, but by arguments deduced from the scriptures; and that all other methods would with him be totally ineffectual.

THE inquisitor was so enraged at the replies made by the prisoner, that he struck him on the face, used many abusive speeches, and attempted to stab him, which he had certainly done had he not been prevented by the jesuits: and from this time he ne|ver again visited the prisoner.

THE next day the two jesuits returned, and put|ting on a very grave supercilious air, the superior asked him, what resolution he had taken? To which Mr. Lithgow replied, that he was already resolved, unless he could shew substantial reasons to make him alter his opinion. The superior, after a pe|dant•••• display of their seven sacraments, the inter|cession of saints, transubstantiation, &c. boasted greatly of their church, her antiquity, universality, and uniformity; all which Mr. Lithgow denied: "For (said he) the profession of the faith I hold hath been ever since the first days of the apostles, and Christ had ever his own church (however ob|scure) in the greatest time of your darkness."

THE jesuits, finding their arguments had not the desired effect, that torments could not shake his constancy, nor even the fear of the cruel sentence he had reason to expect would be pronounced and executed on him, after severe menaces, left him. On the eighth day after, being the last of their in|quisition, when sentence is pronounced, they re|turned again, but quite altered, both in their words and behaviour. After repeating much the same kind of arguments as before, they, with seeming tears in their eyes, pretended they were sorry from their hearts he must be obliged to undergo a terri|ble death; but above all, for the loss of his most precious soul; and falling on their knees, cried out, "Convert, convert, O dear brother, for our bles|sed lady's sake convert!" To which he answered, "I fear neither death nor fire, being prepared for both."

THE first effects Mr. Lithgow felt of the deter|mination of this bloody tribunal was, a sentence to receive that night eleven different tortures, and if he did not die in the execution of them, (which might be reasonably expected from the maimed and

disjointed condition he was in) he was, after Easter holidays, to be carried to Grenada, and there burnt to ashes. The first part of the sentence was exe|cuted with great barbarity that night; and it pleased God to give him strength both of body and mind, to stand fast to the truth, and to survive the horrid punishments inflicted on him.

AFTER these barbarians had glutted themselves for the present, with exercising on the unhappy pri|soner the most distinguished cruelties, they again put irons on, and conveyed him to his former dun|geon. The next morning he received some little comfort from the Turkish slave before-mentioned, who secretly brought him in his shirt sleeve, some raisins and figs, which he licked up in the best man|ner his strength would permit with his tongue. It was to this slave Mr. Lithgow attributed his survi|ving so long in such a wretched situation; for he found means to convey some of these fruits to him twice every week. It is very extraordinary, and worthy of note, that this poor slave, bred up from his infancy, according to the maxims of his pro|phet and parents, in the greatest detestation of christians, should be so affected at the miserable si|tuation of Mr. Lithgow, that he fell ill, and con|tinued so for upwards of 40 days. During this period, Mr. Lithgow was attended by a negro wo|man, a slave, who found means to furnish him with refreshments still more amply than the Turk, being conversant in the house and family. She brought him every day some victuals, and with it some wine in a bottle.

THE time was now so far elapsed, and the hor|rid situation so truly loathsome, that Mr. Lithgow waited, with anxious expectation for the day▪ which, by putting an end to his life, would also end his torments. But his melancholy expectations were, by the interposition of Providence, happily rendered abortive, and his deliverance obtained from the following circumstances.

IT happened that a Spanish gentleman of quali|ty came from Grenada to Malaga, who being invi|ted to an entertainment by the governor, he in|formed him of what had happened to Mr. Lith|gow, from the time of his being apprehended as a spy, and described the various sufferings he had en|dured. He likewise told him, that after it was known the prisoner was innocent, it gave him great concern. That on this account he would gladly have released him, restored his money and papers, and made some atonement for the injuries he had received; but that, upon an inspection into his writings, several were found of a very blasphe|mous nature, highly reflecting on our religion. That on his refusing to abjure these heretical opi|nions, he was turned over to the inquisition, by whom he was finally condemned.

WHILE the governor was relating this tra|gical tale, a Flemish youth (servant to the Spa|nish gentleman) who waited at table, was struck with amazement and pity at the sufferings of the stranger described. On his return to his master's lodgings he began to revolve in his mind what he had heard, which made such an impression on him, that he could not rest in his bed. In the short slum|bers he had, his imagination painted to him the person described, on the rack, and burning in the fire. In this anxiety he passed the night; and when the morning came, without disclosing his intentions to any person whatever, he went into the town, and inquired for an English factor. He was directed to the house of one Mr. Wild, to whom he related the whole of what he had heard pass, the preceding evening, between his master and the governor; but could not tell Mr. Lithgow's name. Mr. Wild, however, conjectured it was him, by the servant's remembering the circumstance of his being a tra|veller, and his having had some acquaintance with him.

ON the departure of the Flemish servant, Mr. Wild immediately sent for the other English fac|tors, to whom he related all the particulars relative to their unfortunate countryman. After a short consultation it was agreed, that an information of the whole affair should be sent, by express, to sir Walter Aston, the English ambassador to the king of Spain, then at Madrid. This was accordingly done, and the ambassador having presented a me|morial to the king and council of Spain, he obtain|ed an order for Mr. Lithgow's enlargement, and his delivery to the English factory. This order was directed to the governor of Malaga; and was

received with great dislike and surprize by the whole assembly of the bloody inquisition.

MR. Lithgow was released from his confinement on the eve of Easter Sunday, when he was carried from his dungeon on the back of the slave who at|tended him to the house of one Mr. Busbich, where all proper comforts were given him. It fortunate|ly happened, that there was at this time a squadron of English ships in the road, commanded by sir Richard Hawkins, who being informed of the past sufferings, and present situation of Mr. Lithgow, came the next day a-shore, with a proper guard, and received him from the merchants. He was instantly carried in blankets on board the Vanguard, and three days after was removed to another ship, by direction of the general sir Robert Mansel, who ordered that he should have proper care taken of him. The factory presented him with clothes, and all necessary provisions, besides which they gave him 200 reals in silver; and sir Richard Haw|kins sent him two double pistoles.

BEFORE his departure from the Spanish coast, sir Richard Hawkins demanded the delivery of his papers, money, books, &c. but could not obtain any satisfactory answer on that head.

WE cannot help making a pause here to reflect, how manifestly Providence interfered in behalf of this poor man, when he was just on the brink of destru••tion; for by his sentence, from which there was ••o appeal, he would have been taken, in a few days, to Grenada, and burnt to ashes: and that a poor ordinary servant, who had not the least know|ledge of him, nor was any ways interested in his preservation, should risque the displeasure of his master, and hazard his own life, to disclose a thing of so momentous and perilous a nature, to a strange gentleman, on whose secrecy depended his own ex|istence. By such secondary means does Providence frequently interfere in behalf of the virtuous and oppressed; of which this is a most distinguished example.

AFTER lying twelve days in the road, the ship weighed anchor, and in about two months arrived safe at Deptford. The next morning Mr. Lith|gow was carried on a feather bed to Theobalds, in Hertfordshire, where, at that time, was the king and royal family. His majesty happened to be that day engaged in hunting, but on his return in the evening, Mr. Lithgow was presented to him, and related the particulars of his sufferings, and his happy delivery. The king was so affected at the narrative, that he expressed the deepest concern, and gave orders that he should be sent to Bath, and his wants properly supplied from his royal munificence. By these means, under God, after some time, Mr. Lithgow was restored, from the most wretched spectacle to a great share of health and strength; but he lost the use of his left arm, and several of the smaller bones were so crushed and broken, as to be ever after rendered useless.

NOTWITHSTANDING every effort was used, Mr. Lithgow never obtained any part of his money or effects, though his majesty, and the ministers of state, interested themselves in his behalf. Gonda|more, the Spanish ambassador, indeed, promised that all his effects should be restored, with the ad|dition of a 1000l. English money, as some atone|ment for the tortures he had undergone, which last was to be paid him by the governor of Malaga. These engagements, however, were but mere pro|mises; and though the king was a kind guarantee for the well performance of them, the cunning Spaniard found means to elude the same. He had, indeed, too great a share of influence in the English council during the time of that pacific reign, when England suffered herself to be bullied into slavish compliance by most of the states and kings in Eu|rope.

An Account of the Persecutions in ITALY.

WE shall now enter on an account of the persecutions in Italy, a country which has been, and still is,

1. THE center of popery.

2. THE seat of the pontiff.

3. THE source of the various errors which have spread themselves over other countries, deluded the

minds of thousands, and diffused the clouds of superstition and bigotry over the human under|standing.

IN pursuing our narrative we shall include the most remarkable persecutions which have happen|ed, and the cruelties which have been practised,

1. BY the immediate order of the pope.

2. THROUGH the power of the inquisition.

3. AT the instigation of particular orders of the clergy.

4. BY the bigotry of the Italian princes.

An Account of the first Persecutions under the PAPACY in ITALY.

IN the 12th century, the first persecutions under the papacy began in Italy, at the time that A|drian, an Englishman, was pope, being occasioned by the following circumstances:

A learned man, and an excellent orator of Brixia, named Arnold, came to Rome, and boldly preach|ed against the corruptions and innovations which had crept into the church. His discourses were so clear, consistent, and breathed forth such a pure spirit of piety, that the senators, and many of the people, highly approved of, and admired his doctrines.

THIS so greatly enraged Adrian, that he com|manded Arnold instantly to leave the city, as an heretic. Arnold, however, did not comply, for the senators, and some of the principal people took his part, and resisted the authority of the pope.

ADRIAN now laid the city of Rome under an in|terdict, which caused the whole body of clergy to interpose; and, at length, persuaded the senators and people to give up the point, and suffer Arnold to be banished. This being agreed to, he received his sentence of exile, and retired to Germany, where he continued to preach against the pope, and to ex|pose the gross errors of the church of Rome.

ADRIAN, on this account, thirsted for his blood, and made several attempts to get him into his hands; but Arnold, for a long time, avoided every s••are laid for him. At length, Frederic Barbarossa arriving at the imperial dignity, requested that the pope would crown him with his own hand. This Adrian complied with, and at the same time asked a favour of the emperor, which was to put Arnold into his hands. The emperor very readily deliver|ed up the unfortunate preacher, who soon fell a martyr to Adrian's vengeance, being hanged, and his body burnt to ashes, at Apulia. The same fate attended several of his old friends and com|panions.

ENCENAS, a Spaniard, was sent to Rome to be brought up in the Roman catholic faith; but ha|ving conversed with some of the reformed, and read several treatises which they had put into his hands, he became a protestant. This, at length, being known, one of his own relations informed against him, when he was burnt by order of the pope, and a conclave of cardinals. The brother of Encenas had been taken up much about the same time, for having a New Testament, in the Spanish language, in his possession; but before the time appointed for his execution, he found means to escape out of prison, and retired to Germany.

FANINUS, a learned lay man, by reading contro|versial books, became of the reformed religion. An information being exhibited against him to the pope, he was apprehended, and cast into prison. His wife, children, relations, and friends, visi••••d him in his confinement, and so far wrought upon his mind, that he renounced his faith, and obtained his release. But he was no sooner free from con|finement, than his mind felt the heaviest of chai••••, the weight of a guilty conscience. His horror•• were so great, that he found them insupportable, till he had returned from his apostacy, and declared himself fully convinced of the errors of the church of Rome. To make amends for his falling off, he now openly and strenuously did all he could to make converts to protestantism, and was pretty successful in his endeavours. These proceedings occasioned his second imprisonment; but he had his life offered him if he would recant ag••in. This proposal he rejected with disdain, saying, 〈◊〉〈◊〉

he scorned life upon such terms. Being asked why he would obstinately persist in his opinions, and leave his wife and children in distress; he replied, I shall not leave them in distress, I have recom|mended them to the care of an excellent trustee. What trustee? said the person who had asked the question, with some surprize: to which Faninus answered, Jesus Christ is the trustee I mean, and I think I could not commit them to the care of a better. On the day of execution he appeared re|markably chearful, which one observing, said, It is strange you should appear so merry upon such an occasion, when Jesus Christ himself, just before his death, was in such agonies, that he sweat blood and water. To which Faninus replied: Christ sustained all manner of pangs and conflicts, with hell and death, on our accounts; and thus, by his sufferings, freed those who really believe in him from the fear of them. He was then strangled, and his body being burnt to ashes, they were scat|tered about by the wind.

DOMINICUS, a learned soldier, having read seve|ral controversial writings, became a zealous pro|testant, and retiring to Placentia, he preached the gospel in its utmost purity, to a very considerable congregation. At the conclusion of his sermon one day, he said, "If the congregation will attend to|morrow, I will give them a description of Anti-Christ, and paint him out in his proper colours."

A vast concourse of people attended the next day; but just as Dominicus was beginning his ser|mon, a civil magistrate went up to his pulpit, and took him into custody. He readily submitted; but as he went along with the magistrate, made use of this expression: I wonder the devil hath let me alone so long. When he was brought to ex|amination, this question was put to him: Will you renounce your doctrines? To which he replied, My doctrines! I maintain no doctrines of my own; what I preach are the doctrines of Christ, and for those I will forfeit my blood, and even think my|self happy to suffer for the sake of my Redeemer. Every method was taken to make him recant from his faith, and embrace the errors of the church of Rome; but when persuasions and menaces were found ineffectual, he was sentenced to death, and hanged in the market-place.

GALEACIUS, a protestant gentleman, who resided near the castle of St. Angelo, was apprehended on account of his faith. Great endeavours being used by his friends he recanted, and subscribed to seve|ral of the superstitious doctrines propagated by the church of Rome. Becoming, however, sensible of his error, he publicly renounced his recantation. Being apprehended for this, he was condemned to be burnt; and agreeable to the order, was chained to a stake, where he was left several hours before the fire was put to the faggots, in order that his wife, relations, and friends, who surrounded him, might induce him to give up his op••nions. Galea|cius, however, now retained his constancy of mind, and intreated the executioner to put fire to the wood that was to burn him. This, at length, he did, and Galeacius was soon consumed in the flames, which burnt with amazing rapidity, and deprived him of sensation in a few minutes.

SOON after this gentleman's death, a great num|ber of protestants were put to death in various parts of Italy, on account of their faith, giving a sure proof of their sincerity in their martyrdoms.

An Account of the Persecutions in CALABRIA.

IN the 14th century, many of the Waldenses of Pragela and Dauphiny emigrated to Calabria, and settling in some waste lands, by the permission of the nobles of that country, they soon, by the most industrious cultivation, made several wild and barren spots appear with all the beauties of verdure and fertility.

THE Calabrian lords were highly pleased with their new subjects and tenants, as they were honest, quiet, and industrious; but the priests of the country exhibited several negative complaints against them; for not being able to accuse them of any thing bad which they did do, they founded accu|sations on what they did not do, and charged them

WITH not being Roman catholics.

WITH not making any of their boys priests.

WITH not making any of their girls nuns.

WITH not going to mass.

WITH not giving wax tapers to their priests as offerings.

WITH not going on pilgrimages.

WITH not bowing to images.

THE Calabrian lords, however quieted the priests, by telling them, that these people were extremely harmless; that they gave no offence to the Roman catholics, and chearfully paid the tythes to the priests, whose revenues were considerably increased by their coming into the country; and who, of con|sequence, ought to be the last persons to complain of them.

THINGS went on tolerably well after this for a few years, during which the Waldenses formed themselves into two corporate towns, annexing several villages to the jurisdiction of them. At length, they sent to Geneva for two clergymen; one to preach in each town, as they determined to make a public profession of their faith. Intelli|gence of this affair being carried to pope Pius the Fourth, he determined to exterminate them from Calabria.

TO this end he sent cardinal Alexandrino, a man of a very violent temper, and a furious bigot, to|gether with two monks, to Calabria, where they were to act as inquisitors. These authorised per|sons came to St. Xist, one of the towns built by the Waldenses, and having assembled the people, told them, that they should receive no injury, or vio|lence, if they would accept of preachers appointed by the pope; but if they would not, they should be deprived both of their properties and lives; and that their intentions might be known, mass should be publicly said that afternoon, at which they were ordered to attend.

THE people of St. Xist, instead of attending mass, fled into the woods with their families, and thus disappointed the cardinal and his coadjutors. The cardinal then proceeded to La Garde, the other town belonging to the Waldenses, where, not to be served as he had been at St. Xist, he ordered the gates to be locked, and all the avenues guarded. The same proposals were made to the people of La Garde, as had been made to the inhabitants of St. Xist, but with this additional piece of artifice: the cardinal assured them that the inhabitants of St. Xist had immediately come into his proposals, and agreed, that the pope should appoint them preach|ers. This falsehood succeeded; for the people of La Garde, thinking what the cardinal had told them to be truth, said, they would exactly follow the example of their brethren at St. Xist.

THE cardinal having gained his point by de|luding the people of one town, sent for two troops of soldiers, with a view to murder those of the other. He, accordingly, dispatched the soldiers into the woods, to hunt down the inhabitants of St. Xist like wild beasts, and gave them strict or|ders to spare neither age or sex, but to kill all they came near. The troops entered the woods, and many sell a prey to their ferocity, before the Wal|denses were properly apprized of their design. At length, however, they determined to sell their lives as dear as possible, when several conflicts happen|ed, in which the half-armed Waldenses performed prodigies of valour, and many were slain on both sides. The greatest part of the troops being killed in the different rencounters, the rest were compelled to retreat, which so enraged the cardinal, that he wrote to the viceroy of Naples for reinforcements.

THE viceroy immediately ordered a proclama|tion to be made throughout all the Neopolitan territories, that all out-laws, deserters, and other proscribed persons, should be freely pardoned for their respective offences, on condition of making a campaign against the inhabitants of St. Xist, and continuing under arms till those people were ex|terminated.

MANY persons, of desperate fortunes, came in upon this proclamation, and being formed into light companies, were sent to scour the woods, and to put to death all they could meet with of the reformed religion. The viceroy himself likewise joined the cardinal, at the head of a body of re|gular forces; and, in conjunction, they did all they could to harrass the poor people in the woods.

[figure]

V••rious methods of MASSAC••••••ING the PROTES+TANTS in the Vallies of Piedmont in Italy.

Some they caught, and hanged up upon trees, cut down boughs, and burnt them, or ripped them open, and left their bodies to be devour|ed by wild beasts, or birds of prey. Many they shot at a distance, but the gre••test number they hunted down by way of sport. A few hid them|selves in caves; but famine destroyed them in their retreat; and thus all these poor people perished, by various means, to glut the bigoted malice of their merciless persecutors.

THE inhabitants of St. Xist were no sooner ex|terminated, than t••••se of La Garde engaged the attention of the cardinal and viceroy. It was offered, that if they would embrace the Ro|man catholic persuasion, themselves and families should not be injured, but their houses and pro|perties should be restored, and none would be permitted to molest them; but, on the contrary, if they refused this mercy, (as it was termed) the utmost extremities would be used, and the most cruel deaths the certain consequence of their non-compliance.

NOTWITHSTANDING the promises on one side, and menaces on the other, these worthy people unanimously refused to renounce their religion, or embrace the errors of popery. This exaspe|rated the cardinal and viceroy so much, that 30 of them were ordered to be put immediately to the rack, as a terror to the rest▪

THOSE who were put to the rack were treated with such severity, that several died under the tortures: one Charlin, in particular, was so cruelly used, that his belly burst, his bowels came out, and he expired in the greatest agonies. These barbarities, however, did not answer the purposes for which they were intended; for those who re|mained alive after the rack, and those who had not felt the rack, remained equally constant in their faith, and boldly declared, that no tortures of body, or terrors of mind, should ever induce them to re|nounce their God, or worship images.

SEVERAL were then, by the cardinal's order, stripped stark naked, and whipped to death with iron rods; some were hacked to pieces with large knives; others were thrown down from the top of a large tower; and many were covered over with pitch, and burnt alive.

ONE of the monks who attended the cardinal, being naturally of a savage and cruel disposition, requested of him, that he might shed some of the blood of these poor people with his own hands; when his request being granted, the barbarous man took a large, sharp knife, and cut the throats of fourscore men, women, and children, with as little remorse as a butcher woul•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 killed so 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sheep. Every one of these bodies were then or|dered to be quartered, the quarters placed upon stakes, and then fixed in different parts of the coun|try, within a circuit of 30 miles.

THE four principal men of La Garde were hang|ed, and the clergyman was thrown from the top of his church steeple. He was terribly mangled, but not quite killed by the fall; at which time the viceroy passing by, said, Is the dog yet living? Take him up, and give him to the hogs: when, brutal as this sentence may appear, it was executed accordingly.

SIXTY women were racked so violently, that the cords pierced their arms and legs quite to the bone: when, being remanded to prison, their wounds mortified, and they died in the most miser|able manner. Many others were put to death by various cruel means; and if any Roman catholic, more compassionate than the rest, interceded for any of the reformed, he was immediately appre|hended, and shared the same fate, as a favourer of heretics.

THE viceroy being obliged to march back to Naples, on some affairs of moment which required his presence, and the cardinal having been recalled to Rome, the marquis of Butiane was ordered to put the finishing stroke to what they had begun; which he, at length, effected, by acting with such barbarous rigour, that there was not a single per|son of the reformed religion left living in all Calabria.

THUS were a number of inoffensive and harm|less people deprived of their possessions, robbed of their property, driven from their homes, and

at length, murdered, by various means, only be|cause they would not sacrifice their consciences to the superstitions of others, embrace idolatrous doc|trines which they abhorred, and accept of teachers whom they could not believe. Tyranny is of three kinds, viz. That which enslaves the person, that which seizes the property, and that which pre|scribes and dictates to the mind. The two first sorts may be termed civil tyranny, and have been practised by arbitrary sovereigns in all ages, who have delighted in tormenting the persons, and stealing the properties of their unhappy subjects. But the third sort, viz. prescribing and dictating to the mind, may be called ecclesiastical tyranny: and this is the worst kind of tyranny, as it in|cludes the other two sorts; for the Romish clergy not only torture the bodies, and seize the effects of those they persecute, but take the lives, torment the minds, and, if possible, would tyrannize over the souls of the unhappy victims.

An Account of the Persecutions in the Val|lies of Piedmont.

MANY of the Waldenses, to avoid the per|secutions to which they were con••••nually subjected in France, went and settled in the vallies of Piedmont, where they increased exceedingly, and flourished very much for a considerable time.

THOUGH they were harmless in their behaviour, inoffensive in their conversation, and paid tythes to the Romish clergy, yet the latter could not be con|tented, but wished to give them some disturbance: they, accordingly complained to the archbishop of Turin, that the Waldenses of the vallies of Pied|mont were heretics, for these reasons:

1. THAT they did not believe in the doctrines of the church of Rome.

2. THAT they made no offerings for prayers for the dead.

3. THAT they did not go to mass.

4. THAT they did not confess, and receive absolution.

5. THAT that they did not believe in purga|tory, or pay money to get the souls of their friends out of it.

UPON these charges the archbishop ordered a persecution to be commenced, and many fell martyrs to the superstitious rage of the priests and monks.

AT Turin, one of the reformed had his bowels torn out, and put in a bason before his face, where they remained, in his view, till he expired. At Revel, Catelin Girard being at the stake, desired the executioner to give him up a stone; which he refused, thinking that he meant to throw it at somebody; but Girard assuring him that he had no such design, the executioner complied: when Girard looking earnestly at the stone, said, When it is in the power of a man to eat and digest this solid stone, the religion for which I am about to suffer shall have an end, and not before. He then threw the stone on the ground, and submitted chearfully to the flames. A great many more of the re|formed were oppressed, or put to death, by various means, till the patience of the Waldenses being tired out, they flew to arms in their own defence, and formed themselves into regular bodies.

EXASPERATED at this, the archbishop of Turin procured a number of troops, and sent against them; but in most of the skirmishes and engagements the Waldenses were successful, which partly arose from their being better acquainted with the passes of the vallies of Piedmont than their adversaries, and partly from the desperation with which they fought; for they well knew, if they were taken, they should not be considered as prisoners of war, but should be tortured 〈◊〉〈◊〉 death as heretics.

AT length, Philip, the seventh duke of Savoy, and supreme lord of Piedmont, determined to in|terpose his authority, and stop these bloody wars, which so greatly disturbed his dominions. He was not willing to disoblige the pope, or affront the archbishop of Turin: nevertheless he sent them both messages, importing, that he could not any

longer see his dominions over-run with troops, who were directed by priests instead of officers, and commanded by prelates in the place of generals; nor would he suffer his country to be depopulated, while he himself had not been even consulted upon the occasion.

THE priests, finding the resolution of the duke, did all they could to prejudice his mind against the Waldenses; but the duke told them, that though he was unacquainted with the religious tenets of these people, yet he had always found them quiet, faithful, and obedient, and therefore he was determined they should be no longer per|secuted.

THE priests now had recourse to the most palpa|ble and absurd falsehoods: they assured the duke that he was mistaken in the Waldenses, for they were a wicked set of people, and highly addicted to intemperance, uncleanness, blasphemy, adultery, incest•• and many other abominable crimes; and that they were even monsters in nature, for their children were born with black throats, with four rows of teeth, and bodies all over hairy.

THE duke was not so devoid of common sense as to give credit to what the priests said, though they affirmed, in the most solemn manner, the truth of their assertions. H••, however, sent twelve very learned and sensible gentlemen into the Piedmon••ese vallies, to examine into the real characters of the inhabitants.

THESE gentlemen, after travelling through all their towns and villages, and conversing with peo|ple of every rank among the Waldenses, returned to the duke, and gave him the most favourable ac|count of those people: affirming, before the faces of the priests who vilified them, that they were harmless, inoffensive, loyal, friendly, industrious, and pious: that they abhorred the crimes of which they were accused; and that, should an individual, through depravity, fall into any of those crimes, he would, by their laws, be punished in the most ex|emplary manner. With respect to the children, the gentlemen said, the priests had told the most 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and ridiculous falsit••es, for they were neither born with black throats, teeth in their mouths, or hair on their bodies, but were as fine children as could be seen. "And to convince your high|ness of what we have said, (continued one of the gentlemen) we have brought twelve of the principal male inhabitants, who are come to ask pardon in the name of the rest, for having taken up arms without your leave, though even in their own defence, and to preserve their lives from their mer|ciless enemies. And we have likewise brought se|veral women, with children of various ages, that your highness may have an opportunity of person|ally examining them as much as you please."

THE duke, after accepting the apology of the twelve delegates, con••ersing with the women, and examining the children graciously dismissed them. He then commanded the priests, who had attempt|ed to mislead h••m, immediately to leave court; and gave strict orders, that the persecution should cease throughout hi•• dominions.

THE Waldenses had enjoyed peace many years, when Philip, the seventh duke of Savoy, died, and his successor happened to be a very bigoted papist. About the same time, some of the principal Wal|denses proposed, that their clergy should preach in public, that every one might know the purity of their doctrines; for hitherto they had preached only in private, and to such congregations as they well knew to consist of none bu•• persons of the re|formed religion.

ON hearing these proceedings, the new duke was greatly exasperated, and sent a considerable bo|dy of troops into the vallies, swearing, that if the people would not change their religion, he would have them ••••ead alive. The commander of the troops soon found the impracticability of conquering them with the number of men he had with him▪ he, therefore, sent word to the duke, that the idea of subjugating the Waldenses, with so small a force, was ridiculous; that those people were better ac|quainted with the country than any that were with him; that they had secured all the passes, were well armed, and resolutely determined to defend them|selves; and, with respect to ••••eaing them alive, he said, that every skin belonging to those people

would cost him the lives of a dozen of his subjects.

TERRIFIED at this information, the duke with|drew the troops, determining to act not by force, but by stratagem. He, therefore, ordered rewards for the taking of any of the Waldenses, who might be found straying from their places of security; and these, when taken, were either flead alive, or burnt.

THE Waldenses had hitherto only had the New Testament, and a few books of the Old, in the Waldensian tongue; but they determined now to have the sacred writings complete in their own lan|guage. They, therefore, employed a Swiss printer to furnish them with a complete edition of the Old and New Testament in the Waldensian tongue, which he did for the consideration of fifteen hun|dred crowns of gold, paid him by those pious people.

Pope Paul the Third, a bigoted papist, ascend|ing the pontifical chair, immediately solicited the parliament of Turin to persecute the Waldenses, as the most pernicious of all heretics.

THE parliament readily agreed, when several were suddenly apprehended and burnt, by their or|der. Among these was Bartholomew Hector, a bookseller and stationer at Turin, who was brought up a Roman catholic, but having read some trea|tises written by the reformed clergy, he was fully convinced of the errors of the church of Rome; yet his mind was, for some time, wavering, and he hardly knew what persuasion to embrace.

AT length, however, he fully embraced the re|formed religion, and was apprehended, as we have already mentioned, and burnt by order of the par|liament of Turin.

A consultation was now held by the parliament of Turin, in which it was agreed, to send depu|ties to the vallies of Piedmont, with the follow|ing propositions:

1. THAT if the Waldenses would come to the bosom of the church of Rome, and embrace the Roman catholic religion, they should enjoy their houses, properties, and lands, and live with their families, without the least molestation.

2. THAT to prove their obedience, they should send twelve of their principal persons, with all their ministers and school-masters, to Turin, to be dealt with at discretion.

3. THAT the pope, the king of France, and the duke of Savoy, approved of, and authorized the the proceedings of the parliament of Turin, upon this occasion.

4. THAT if the Waldenses of the vallies of Pied|mont refused to comply with these propositions, persecution should ensue, and certain death be their portion.

TO each of these propositions the Waldenses nobly replied in the following manner, answering them respectively.

1. THAT no considerations whatever should make them renounce their religion.

2. THAT they would never consent to commit their best and most respectable friends, to the custody and discretion of their worst and most in|veterate enemies.

3. THAT they valued the approbation of the King of kings, who reigns in heaven, more than any temporal authority.

4. THAT their souls were more precious th•••• their bodies.

THESE pointed and spirited replies greatly exas|perated the parliament of Turin: they continued, with more avidity than ever, to kidnap such Wal|denses as did not act with proper precaution, who were sure to suffer the most cruel deaths. Among these it unfortunately happened, that they got hold of Jeffery Varnagle, minister of Angrogne, whom they committed to the flames as an heretic.

THEY then solicited a considerable body of troops of the king of France, in order to exter|minate the reformed, entirely, from the vallies of

Piedmont; but just as the troops were going to march, the protestant princes of Germany inter|posed, and threatened to send troops to assist the Waldenses, if they should be attacked. The king of France, not caring to enter into a war, remand|ed the troops, and sent word to the parliament of Turin, that he could not spare any troops at present to act in Piedmont. The members of the parlia|ment were greatly vexed at this disappointment, and the persecution gradually ceased; for as they could only put to death such of the reformed as they caught by chance, and as the Waldenses daily grew more cautious, their cruelty was obliged to subside, for want of objects on whom to exercise it.

AFTER the Waldenses had enjoyed a few years tranquility, they were again disturbed by the fol|lowing means: the pope's nuncio coming to Tu|rin to the duke of Savoy upon business, told that prince, he was astonished he had not yet either rooted out the Waldenses from the val••ies of Pied|mont entirely, or compelled them to enter into the bosom of the church of Rome. That he could not help looking upon such conduct with a suspicious eye, and that he really thought him a favourer of those heretics, and should report the affair accord|ingly to his holiness the pope.

STUNG by this reflection, and unwilling to be misrepresented to the pope, the duke determined to act with the greatest severity, in order to shew his zeal, and to make amends for former neglect by future cruelty. He, accordingly, ••ssued ex|press orders for all the Waldenses to attend mass regularly, on pain of death. This they absolutely refused to do, on which he entered the Piedmontese vallies, with a formidable body of troops▪ and be|gan a most furious persecution, in which great num|bers were hanged, drowned, ripped open, tied to trees, and pierced with prongs, thrown from pri|cipices, burnt, stabbed, racked to death, crucified with their heads downwards, worried by dogs, &c.

THOSE who fled had their goods plundered, and their houses burnt to the ground: they were par|ticularly cruel when they caught a minister or a school-master, whom they put to such exquisite tortures, as are almost incredible to conceive. If any whom they took seemed wavering in their faith, they did not put them to death, but sent them to the gallies, to be made converts by dint of hardships.

THE most cruel persecutors, upon this occasion, that attended the duke, were three in number, viz. 1. Thomas Incomel, an apostate; for he was brought up in the reformed religion, but renounced his faith, embraced the errors of popery, and turned monk. He was a great libertine, given to unnatural crimes, and sordidly solicitous for the plunder of the Waldenses. 2. Corbis, a man of a very ferocious and cruel nature, whose business it was to examine the prisoners. 3. The provost of justice, who was very anxious for the execution of the Waldenses, as every execution put money into his pocket.

THESE three persons were unmerciful to the last degree; and wherever they came, the blood of the innocent was sure to flow. Exclusive of the cruelties exercised by the duke, by these three persons, and the army, in their different marches, many local barbarities were commit|ted. At Pignerol, a town in the vallies, was a monastery, the monks of which 〈◊〉〈◊〉 they might injure the reformed with impunity, began to plun|der the houses, and pull down the churches of the Waldenses. Not meeting with any opposition, they next seized upon the persons of those unhappy people, murdering the men, confining the women, and putting the children to Roman catholic nurses.

THE Roman catholic inhabitants of the valley of St. Martin, likewise, did all they could to torment the neighbouring Waldenses: they destroyed their churches, burnt their houses, seized their proper|ties, stole their cattle, converted their lands to their own use, committed their ministers to the flames, and drove the Waldenses to the woods, where they had nothing to subsist on but wild fruits, roots, the bark of trees, &c.

SOME Roman catholic ruffians having seized a minister as he was going to preach, determined to take him to a convenient place, and burn him. His parishioners having intelligence of the affair, the men armed themselves, pursued the ruffians, and seemed determined to rescue their minister;

which the ruffians no sooner perceived, than th•••• stabbed the poor gentleman, and leaving him ••••••••…tering in his blood, made a precipitate retr••••••. The astonished parishioners did all they could to recover him, but in vain; for the weapon 〈◊〉〈◊〉 touched the vital parts, and he expired as they were carrying him home.

THE monks of Pignerol having a great inclina|tion to get a minister of a town in the vallies, call|ed St. Germain into their power, hired a band of ruffians for the purpose of apprehending him. These fellows were conducted by a treacherous per|son, who had formerly been a servant to the cler|gyman, and who perfectly well knew a secret way to the house, by which he could lead them without alarming the neighbourhood. The guide knocked at the door, and being asked who was there, an|swered in his own name. The clergyman, not ex|pecting any injury from a person on whom he had heaped favours, immediately opened the door; but perceiving the ruffians, he started back, and fled to a back door; but they rushed in, followed and seized him. Having murdered all his family, they made him proceed towards Pignerol, goading him all the way with pikes, lances, swords, &c. He was kept a considerable time in prison, and then fastened to the stake to be burnt; when two women of the Waldenses, who had renounced their religion to save their lives, were ordered to carry faggots to the stake to burn him; and as they laid them down, to say, Take these, thou wicked heretic, in recom|pence for the pernicious doctrines thou hast taught us. These words they both repeated to him: to which he calmly replied, I formerly taught you well, but you have since learned ill. The fire was then put to the faggots, and he was speedily con|sumed, calling upon the name of the Lord as long as his voice permitted.

AS the troops of ruffians, belonging to the monks, did great mischief about the town of St. Germain, murdering and plundering many of the inhabitants, the reformed of Lucerne and An|grogne sent some bands of armed men to the assist|ance of their brethren of St. Germain. These bodies of armed men frequently attacked the ruffi|ans, and often put them to the rout, which so ter|rified the monks, that they left their monastery of Pignerol for some time, till they could procure a body of regular troops to guard them.

THE duke, not thinking himself so successful as he at first imagined he should be, greatly aug|mented his forces; ordered the bands of ruffians, belonging to the monks, should join him; and commanded, that a general gaol delivery should take place, provided the persons released would bear arms, and form themselves into light compa|nies, to assist in the extermination of the Wal|denses.

THE Waldenses, being informed of these pro|ceedings, secured as much of their properties as they could, and quitting the vallies, retired to the rocks and caves among the Alps; for it is to be understood, that the vallies of Piedmont are situa|ted at the foot of those prodigious mountains, call|ed the Alps, or the Alpine Hills.

THE army now began to plunder and burn the towns and villages wherever they came; but the troops could not force the passes to the Alps, which were gallantly defended by the Waldenses, who al|ways repulsed their enemies; but if any fell into the hands of the troops, they were sure to be treat|ed with the most barbarous severity.

A soldier having caught one of the Waldenses, bit his right ear off, saying, I will carry this mem|ber of that wicked heretic with me into my own country, and preserve it as a rarity He then stab|bed the man, and threw him into a ditch.

A party of the troops found a venerable man up|wards of an hundred years of age, together with his grand-daughter, a maiden, of about eighteen, in a cave. They butchered the poor old man in a most inhuman manner, and then attempted to ravish the girl, when she started away, and fled from them; but they pursuing her, she threw herself from a precipice, and perished.

THE Waldenses, in order the more effectually to be able to repel force by force, entered into a league with the protestant powers in Germany, and with the reformed of Dauphiny and Pragels. These were, respectively to furnish bodies of

troops; and the Waldenses determined, when thus reinforced, to quit the mountains of the Alps, (where they must soon have perished, as the winter was coming on) and to force the duke's army to evacuate their native vallies.

THE duke of Savoy was now tired of the war; it had cost him great fatigue and anxiety of mind, a vast number of men, and very considerable sums of money. It had been much more tedious and bloody than he expected, as well as more expensive than he could at first have imagined, for he thought the plunder would have discharged the expences of the expedition; but in this he was mistaken, for the pope's nuncio, the bishops, monks, and other ecclesiastics, who attended the army and encouraged the war, sunk the greatest part of the wealth that was taken under various pretences. For these reasons, and the death of his duchess, of which he had just received intelligence, and fearing that the Waldenses, by the treaties they had entered into, would become more powerful than ever, he deter|mined to return to Turin with his army, and to make peace with the Waldenses.

THIS resolution he executed, though greatly against the will of the ecclesiastics, who were the chief gainers, and the best pleased with revenge. Before the articles of peace could be ratified, the duke himself died soon after his return to Turin; but on his death-bed he strictly enjoined his son to perform what he had intended, and to be as favour|able as possible to the Waldenses.

THE duke's son▪ Charles Emanuel, succeeded to the dominions of Savoy, and gave a full ratification of the peace to the Waldenses, according to the last injunctions of his ••••ther, though the ecclesiastics did all they could to persuade him to the contrary.

An Account of the Persecutions in Venice.

WHILE the state of Venice was free from inquisitors, a great number of protestants fixed their residence there, and many converts were made by the purity of the doctrines they professed, and the inoffensiveness of the conversation they used.

THE pope being informed of the great increase of protestantism, in the year 1542 sent inquisitors to Venice, to make an inquiry into the matter, and apprehend such as they might deem obnoxious per|sons. Hence a severe persecution began, and ma|ny worthy persons were martyred for serving God with purity, and scorning the trappings of ido|latry.

VARIOUS were the modes by which the protes|tants were deprived of life; but one particular method, which was first invented upon this occa|sion, we shall describe: as soon as sentence was passed, the prisoner had an iron chain, which ran through a great stone, fastened to his body. He was then laid flat upon a plank, with his face up|wards, and rowed between two boats to a certain distance at sea, when the boats separated, and he was sunk to the bottom by the weight of the stone.

IF any denied the jurisdiction of the inquisitors at Venice, they were sent to Rome, where, being committed purposely to damp prisons, and never called to an hearing, their flesh mortified, and they died miserably in gaol.

A citizen of Venice, Anthony Ricetti, being apprehended as a protestant, was sentenced to be drowned in the manner we have already described. A few days previous to the time appointed for his execution, his son went to him, and begged him to recant, that his life might be saved, and himself not left fatherless. To which the father replied, A good christian is bound to relinquish not only goods and children, but life itself for the glory of his Redeemer: therefore I am resolved to sacrifice every thing in this transitory world, for the sake of salvation in a world that will last to eternity. The lord•• of Venice likewise sent him word, that if he would embrace the Roman catholic religion, they would not only give him his life, but redeem a considerable estate which he had mortgaged, and freely present him with it. This, however, he absolutely refused to comply with, sending word to the nobles, that he valued his soul beyond all other considerations; and being told that a fellow-prison|er,

named Francis Sega, had recanted, he answer|ed, If he has forsaken God, I pity him; but I shall continue stedfast in my duty. Finding all en|deavours to persuade him to renounce his faith inef|fectual, he was executed according to his sentence, dying chearfully, and recommending his soul fer|vently to the Almighty.

WHAT Ricetti had been told concerning the apos|tacy of Francis Sega was absolutely false, for he had never offered to recant, but stedfastly persisted in his faith: and was executed, a few days after Ricetti, in the very same manner.

FRANCIS Spinola, a protestant gentleman of ve|ry great learning, being apprehended by order of the inquisitors, was carried before their tribunal. A treatise on the Lord's Supper was then put into his hands, and he was asked if he knew the author of it. To which he replied, I confess myself to be the author of it, and at the same time solemnly affirm, that there is not a line in it but what is au|thorized by, and consonant to, the holy scriptures. On this confession he was committed close prisoner to a dungeon for several days.

BEING brought to a second examination, he charged the pope's legate, and the inquisitors, with being merciless barbarians, and then represented the superstitions and idolatries practised by the church of Rome in so glaring a light, that not being able to refuse his arguments, they sent him back to his dungeon, to make him repent of what he had said.

ON his third examination, they asked him if he would recant his errors? To which he answered, That the doctrines he maintained were not errone|ous, being purely the s••me as those which Christ and his apostles had taught, and which were hand|ed down to us in the Sacred Writings. The in|quisitors then sentenced him to be drowned, which was executed in the manner already described. He went to meet death with the utmost serenity, seem|ing to wish for dissolution, and declaring, that the prolongation of this life did but tend to retard that real happiness which could be only expected in the world to come.

An Account of several remarkable Individuals, who were martyred in different parts of Italy, on Account of their Religion,

JOHN MOLLIUS was born at Rome, of re|putable parents. At twelve years of age they placed him in the monastery of Grey Friars, where he made such a rapid progress in arts, sciences, and languages, that at eighteen years of age he was permitted to take priest's orders.

HE was then sent to Ferrara, where, after pursu|ing his studies six years longer, he was made theolo|gical reader in the university of that city. He now, unhappily, exerted his great talents to disguise the gospel truths, and to varnish over the errors of the church of Rome. After some years residence at Ferrara, he removed to the university of Bononia, where he became a professor. Having read some treatises written by ministers of the reformed reli|gion, he grew fully sensible of the errors of pope|ry, and soon became a zealous protestant in his heart.

HE now determined to expound, according to the purity of the gospel, St. Paul's epistle to the Romans, in a regular course of sermons. The concourse of people that continually 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his preaching was surprizing; but when the priests found the tenor of his doctrines, they dispatched an account of the affair to Rome; when the pope sent a monk, named Cornelius, to Bononia, to ex|pound the same epistle, according to the tenets of the church of Rome. The people, however, found such a disparity between the two preachers, that the audience of Mollius increased, and Cornelius was forced to preach to empty benches.

CORNELIUS wrote an account of his bad success to the pope, who immediately sent an order to ap|prehend Mollius, who was seized upon accordingly, and kept in close confinement. The bishop of Bo|nonia sent him word, that he must recant, or be burnt: but he appealed to Rome, and was removed thither.

AT Rome he begged to have a public trial, but that the pope absolutely denied him, and com|manded

him to give an account of his opinions in writing, which he did under the following heads:

• Original sin.
• Free-will.
• The infallibility of the church of Rome.
• The infal••••••ility of the pope.
• Justification by faith.
• Purgatory.
• Transubstantiation.
• Mass.
• Auricular confession.
• Prayers for the dead.
• The host.
• Prayers to saints.
• Going on pilgrimages.
• Extreme unction.
• Performing service in an unknown tongue, &c.

AND all these he confirmed from scripture au|thority. The pope, upon this occasion, for political reasons, spared him for the present, but soon after had him apprehended, and put to death; he being first hanged, and his body burnt to ashes, A. D. 1553.

THE year after Francis Gamba, a Lombard, of the protestant persuasion, was apprehended, and condemned to death by the senate of Milan. At the place of execution, a monk presented a cross to him; to whom he said, My mind is so full of the real merits and goodness of Christ, that I want not a piece of senseless stick to put me in mind of him. For this expression his tongue was bored through, and he was afterwards burnt.

A. D. 1555, Algerius, a student in the univer|sity of Padua, and a man of great learning, hav|ing embraced the reformed religion, did all he could to convert others. For these proceedings he was accused of heresy to the pope, and being ap|prehended, was comitted to the prison at Venice, where being allowed the use of pen, ink, and pa|per, he wrote to his converts at Padua the follow|ing celebrated epistle:

LETTER From AL••••••IUS to his Converts at Padua.

Dear Friends,

I Cannot omit this opportunity of letting you know the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 pleasure I feel in my confine|ment; to suffer for Christ 〈◊〉〈◊〉 delectable, indeed; to undergo a little transitory pain in this world, for his sake, is cheaply purchasing a reversion of eter|nal glory, in a life that is everlasting.

HENCE, I have found honey in the entrails of a lion; a paradise in a prison; tranquillity in the house of sorrow: where others weep, I rejoice; where others tremble and faint, I find strength and courage. The Almighty alone confers these fa|vours on me; be his the glory and the praise.

HOW different do I find myself from what I was before I embraced the truth in its purity; I was then dark, doubtful, and in dread; I am now en|lightened, certain, and full of joy. He that was far from me is present with me; he comforts my spirit, heals my griefs, strengthens my mind, re|freshes my heart, and fortifies any soul. Learn, therefore, how merciful and amiable the Lord is, who supports his servants under temptations, expels their sorrows, lightens their afflictions, and even visits them with his glorious presence, in the gloom of a dismal dungeon.

Your sincere friend, ALGERIUS.

THE pope, being informed of Algerius's great learning, and surprizing natural abilities, thought it would be of infinite service to the church of Rome, if he could induce him to forsake the pro|testant cause. He, therefore, sent for him to Rome, and tried, by the most profane promises, to win him to his purpose. But finding his endeavours ineffectual he ordered him to be burnt, which sen|tence was executed accordingly.

A. D. 1559, John A••loysius, being sent from Geneva to preach in Calabria, was there appre|hended as a protestant, carried to Rome, and burnt by order of the pope▪ and James Bovellus, for the same reason, was burnt at Messina.

A. D. 1560, pope Pius the Fouth ordered all the protestants to be severely persecuted through|out the Italian states, when great numbers of every age, sex, and condition, suffered martyrdom. Con|cerning the cruelties practised upon this occasion, a learned and humane Roman catholic thus speaks of them, in a letter to a noble lord. "I cannot, my lord, forbear disclosing my sentiments, with

respect to the persecution now carrying on: I think it cruel and unnecessary; I tremble at the manner of putting to death, as it resembles more the slaugh|ter of calves and sheep, than the execution of hu|man beings. I will relate to your lordship a dread|ful scene, of which I was myself an eye-witness: seventy protestants were cooped up in one filthy dungeon together; the executioner went in among them, picked out one from among the rest, blind|folded him, led him out to an open place before the prison, and cut his throat with the greatest composure. He then calmly walked into the prison again, bloody as he was, and with the knife in his hand selected another, and dispatched him in the same manner; and this, my lord, he repeated till the whole number were put to death. I leave it to your lordship's feelings to judge of my sensa|tions upon the occasion; my tears now wash the paper upon which I give you the recital. Another thing I must mention, the patience with which they met death: they seemed all resignation and piety, fervently praying to God, and chearfully encoun|tering their fate. I cannot reflect without shudder|ing, how the executioner held the bloody knife between his teeth; what a dreadful figure he ap|peared, all covered with blood, and with what un|concern he executed his barbarous office."

A young Englishman who happened to be at Rome, was one day passing by a church, when the procession of the host was just coming out. A bishop carried the host, which the young man per|ceiving, he snatched it from him, threw it on the ground, and trampled it under his feet, crying out, Ye wretched idolaters, that neglect the true God to adore a morsel of bread. This action so provoked the people, that they would have torn him to pieces upon the spot; but the priests persuaded them to let him abide by the sentence of the pope.

WHEN the affair was represented to the pope, he was so greatly exasperated that he ordered the pri|soner to be burnt immediately; but a cardinal dis|suaded him from this hasty sentence, saying, it was better to punish him by slow degrees, and to tor|ture him, that they might find out if he had been instigated by any particular person to commit so atrocious an act.

THIS being approved, he was tortured with the most exemplary severity, notwithstanding which they could only get these words from him, It was the will of God that I should do what I did.

THE pope then past this sentence upon him:

1. THAT he should be led, by the executioner, naked to the middle, through the streets of Rome.

2. THAT he should wear the image of the devil upon his head.

3. THAT his breeches should be painted with the representation of flames.

4. THAT he should have his right hand cut off.

5. THAT after having been carried about thus in procession, he should be burnt.

WHEN he heard his sentence pronounced, he im|plored God to give him strength and fortitude to go through it. As he passed through the streets he was greatly derided by the people, to whom he said some severe things respecting the Romish su|perstition. But a cardinal, who attended the pro|cession, over-hearing him, ordered him to be gagged.

WHEN he came to the church door, where he trampled on the host, the hangman cut off his right hand, and fixed it on a pole. Then two tor|mentors, with flaming torches, scorched and burnt his flesh all the rest of the way. At the place of execution he kissed the chains that were to bind him to the stake. A monk presenting the figure of a saint to him, he struck it aside, and then being chained to the stake, fire was put to the faggots, and he was soon burnt to ashes.

A little after the last mentioned execution, a venerable old man, who had long been a prisoner in the inquisition, was condemned to be burnt, and brought out for execution. When he was fastened to the stake, a priest held a crucifix to him, on which he said, "If you do not take that idol from my sight, you will constrain me to spit upon it." The priest rebuked him for this with great severity;

but he bade him remember the first and second commandments, and refrain from idolatry, as God himself had commanded. He was then gagged, that he should not speak any more, and fire being put to the faggots, he suffered martyrdom in the flames.

An Account of the Persecutions in the Mar|quisate of SALUCES.

THE marquisate of Saluces, on the south side of the vallies of Piedmont, was in A. D. 1561, principally inhabited by protestants; when the marquis, who was proprietor of it, began a persecution against them at the the instigation of the then pope. He began by banishing the mini|sters, and if any of them refused to leave their flocks they were sure to be imprisoned, and severely tortured; however, he did not proceed so far as to put any to death.

SOON after the marquisate fell into the possession of the duke of Savoy, who sent circular letters to all the towns and villages, that he expected the people would all conform to go to mass.

THE inhabitants of Saluces, upon receiving this letter, returned for answer the following general epistle.

"May it please your highness,

WE humbly intreat your permission to con|tinue in the practice of the religion which we have always professed, and which our fathers have professed before us. In this we shall acquit our consciences, without offending any; for we are sensible that our religion is founded on the holy scriptures, by whose precepts we are commanded not to injure our neighbours.

"WE likewise implore your protection; for as Jews, infidels, and other enemies to Christ, are suffered to live in your dominions unmolested, we hope the same indulgence may be granted to chris|tians, whose very faith obliges them to be harm|less, honest, inoffensive, and loyal.

WE remain your highness's respectful, obedient, and faithful subjects, THE PROTESTANT INHABITANTS OF THE MARQUISATE OF SALUCES."

THE duke, after reading this letter, did not in|terrupt the protestants for some time; but, at length, he sent them word, that they must either conform to go to mass, or leave his dominions in fifteen days. The protestants, upon this unexpected edict, sent a deputy to the duke to obtain its revocation, or at least to have it moderated. But their remonstrances were in vain, and they were given to understand that the edict was absolute.

SOME were weak enough to go to mass, in order to avoid banishment, and preserve their property; others removed, with all their effects to different countries; and many neglected the time so long, that they were obliged to abandon all they were worth, and leave the marquisate in haste. Those, who unhappily staid behind, were seized, plunder|ed, and put to death.

An Account of the Persecutions in the Val|lies of Piedmont, in the seventeenth Cen|tury.

POPE Clement the Eighth sent missionaries into the vallies of Piedmont, to induce the protestants to renounce their religion; and these missionaries having erected monasteries in several parts of the vallies, became exceedingly trouble|some to those of the reformed, where the monaste|ries appeared not only as fortresses to curb, but as sanctuaries for all such to fly to, as had any ways injured them.

THE protestants petitioned the duke of Savoy against these missionaries, whose insolence and ill|usage were become intolerable; but instead of get|ting any redress, the interest of the missionaries so

far prevailed, that the duke published a decree, in which he declared, that one witness should be suf|ficient in a court of law against a protestant; and that any witness, who convicted a protestant of any crime whatever should be entitled to an hundred crowns.

IT may be easily imagined, upon the publication of a decree of this nature, that many protestants fell martyrs to perjury and avarice; for several villain|ous papists would swear any thing against the pro|testants for the sake of the reward, and then fly to their own priests for absolution from their false oaths. If any Roman catholic, of more conscience than the rest, blamed these fellows for their atro|cious crimes, they themselves were in danger of being informed against, and punished as favourers of heretics.

THE missionaries did all they could to get the books of the protestants into their power, in order to burn them; when the protestants doing their utmost endeavours to conceal their books, the mis|sionaries wrote to the duke of Savoy, who, for the heinous crime of not surrendering their bibles, prayer-books, and religious treatises, sent a num|ber of troops to be quartered on them. These military gentry did great mischief in the houses of the protestants, and destroyed such quantities of provisions, that many families were thereby en|tirely ruined.

TO encourage, as much as possible, the apostacy of the protestants, the duke of Savoy published a proclamation, wherein he said, "To encourage the heretics to turn catholics, it is our will and pleasure, and we do hereby expressly command, that all such as shall embrace the holy Roman faith, shall enjoy an exemption from all and every tax for the space of five years, commencing from the day of their conversion." The duke of Savoy likewise esta|blished a court, called, The council for extirpating the heretics. This court was to enter into inqui|ries concerning the ancient privileges of the pro|testant churches, and the decrees which had been, from time to time, made in favour of the protes|tants. But the investigation of these things was carried on with the most manifest partiality; old charters were 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to a wrong sense, 〈…〉〈…〉 was used to pervert the meaning of every thing, which tended to favour the reformed.

AS if these severities were not sufficient, the duke, soon after, published another edict, in which he strictly commanded, that no protestant should act as a school-master, or tutor, either in public or private, or dare to teach any art, science, or lan|guage, directly or indirectly, to persons of any persuasion whatever.

THIS edict was immediately followed by another, which decreed, that no protestant should hold any place of profit, trust, or honour; and to wind up the whole, the certain token of approaching perse|cution came forth in a final edict, by which it was positively ordered, that all protestants should dili|gently attend mass.

THE publication of an edict, containing such an in|junction, may be compared to unfurling the bloody flag; for murder and rapine were certain to follow. One of the first objects that attracted the notice of the papists, was Mr. Sebastian Basan, a zealous protestant, who was seized by the missionaries, con|fined, tormented for fifteen months, and then burnt.

PREVIOUS to the persecution, the missionaries employed kidnappers to steal away the protestants children, that they might privately be brought up Roman Catholics; but now they took away the children by open force, and if they met with any resistance, murdered the parents.

TO give greater vigour to the persecution, the duke of Savoy called a general assembly of the Ro|man catholic nobility and gentry, when a solemn edict was published against the reformed, contain|ing many heads, and including several reasons for extirpating the protestants; among which were the following:

1. FOR the preservation of the papal authority.

2. THAT the church livings may be all under one mode of government.

3. TO make an union among all parties.

IN honor of all the saints, and of the cere|monies of the church of Rome.

THIS severe edict was followed by a most cruel order, published on January 25, A. D. 1655, under the duke's sanction, by Andrew Gastaldo, doctor of civil laws. This order set forth, "That every head of a family, with the individuals of that family, of the reformed religion, of what rank, degree, or condition soever, none excepted, inhabiting and possessing estates in Lucerne, St. Giovanni, Bibiana, Campiglione, St. Secondo, Lucernetta, La Torre, Fenile, and Bricherassio, should, within three days after the publication thereof, withdraw and depart, and be withdrawn out of the said places, and trans|lated into the places and limits tolerated by his high|ness during his pleasure; particularly Bobbio, An|grogna, Villaro, Rorata, and the county of Bonetti.

"AND all this to be done on pain of death, and confiscation of house and goods, unless within the limited time they turned Roman catholics."

A flight, with such speed, in the midst of winter, may be conceived as no agreeable task, especially in a country almost surrounded by mountains. The sudden order affected all, and things, which would have been scarcely noticed at another time, now ap|peared in the most conspicuous light. Women with child, or women just lain-in, were not objects of pity on this order for sudden removal, for all were includ|ed in the command; and it unfortunately happened, that the winter was remarkably severe and rigorous.

THE papists, however, drove the people from their habitations at the time appointed, without even suffering them to have sufficient clothes to cover them; and many perished in the mountains through the severity of the weather, or for want of food. Some, however, who remained behind after the de|cree was published, met with the several treatment, being murdered by the popish inhabitants, or shot by the troops who were quartered in the vallies. A particular description of these cruelties is given in a letter, written by a protestant, who was upon the spot, and who happily escaped the carnage. "The army (says he) having got footing, became very numerous, by the addition of a multitude of the neighbouring popish inhabitants, who finding we were the destined prey of the plunderers, fell upon us with an impetuous fury. Exclusive of the duke of Savoy's troops, and the popish inhabitants, there were several regiments of French auxiliaries, some companies belonging to the Irish brigades, and several bands formed of outlaws, smugglers and prisoners, who had been promised pardon and li|berty in this world, and absolution in the next, for assisting to exterminate the protestants from Pied|mont.

"THIS armed multitude being encouraged by the Roman catholic bishops and monks, fell upon the protestants in a most furious manner. Nothing now was to be seen but the face of horror and de|spair; blood stained the floors of the houses, dead bodies bestrewed the streets, groans and cries were heard from all parts. Some armed themselves, and skirmished with the troops; and many, with their families▪ fled to the mountains. In one vil|lage they cruelly tormented 150 women and chil|dren after the men were fled, beheading the women, and dashing out the brains of the children. In the towns of Villaro and Bobbio, most of those that re|fused to go to mass, who were upwards of fifteen years of age, they crucified with their heads down|wards; and the greater number of those who were under that age were strangled."

SARAH RASTIGNOLE DES VIGNES, a woman of 60 years of age, being seized by some soldiers, they ordered her to say a prayer to some saints; which she refusing, they thrust a fickle into her belly, rip|ped her up, and then cut off her head.

MARTHA CONSTANTINE, a handsome young wo|man, was treated with great indecency and cruelty by several of the troops, who first ravished, and then killed her, by cutting off her breasts. These they fried, ••nd set before some of their comrades, who eat them without knowing what they were. When they had done eating, the others told them what they had made a meal of, in consequence of which a quarrel ensued, swords were drawn, and a battle took place. Several were killed in the fray, the greater part of whom were those concerned in the horrid massacre of the woman, and who had prac|tised such an inhuman deception on their compa|nions.

SOME of the soldiers seized a man at Thrassiniere, and ran the points of their swords through his ears, and through his feet. They then tore off the nails of his fingers and toes with red-hot pincers, tied him to the tail of an ass, and dragged him about the streets; and finally, fastened a cord round his head, which they twisted with a stick in so violent a man|ner as to wring it from his body.

PETER SIMONDS, a protestant, of about eighty years of age, was tied neck and heels, and then thrown down a precipice. In the fall the branch of a tree caught hold of the ropes that fastened him, and suspended him in the mid-way, so that he lan|guished for several days, and at length miserably perished of hunger.

ESAY GARCINO, refusing to renounce his reli|gion, was cut into small pieces; the soldiers, in ri|dicule, saying, they had minced him. A woman, named Armand, had every limb separated from each other, and then the respective parts were hung upon a hedge. Two old women were ripped open, and left in the fields upon the snow, where they perished; and a very old woman, who was deformed, had her nose and hands cut off, and was left to bleed to death in that manner.

A great number of men, women, and children were flung from the rocks, and dashed to pieces. Magdalen Bertino, a protestant woman of La Torre, was stripped stark naked, her head tied between her legs, and thrown down one of the precipices; and Mary Raymondet, of the same town, had her flesh sliced from her bones till she expired.

MAGDALEN PILOT, of Villaro, was cut to pieces in the cave of Castolus; Ann Charboniere had one end of a stake thrust up her body; and the other end being fixed in the ground, she was left in that manner to perish; and Jacob Perrin the elder, of the church of Villaro, and David, his brother, were flead alive.

AN inhabitant of La Torre, named Giovanni Andrea Michialin, was apprehended, with four of his children; three of them were hacked to pieces before him, the soldiers asking him, at the death of every child, if he would renounce his religion? which he constantly refused. One of the soldiers then took up the last and youngest by the legs, and putting the same question to the father, he replied as before, when the inhuman brute dashed out the child's brains. The father, however, at the same moment started from them, and fled: the soldiers fired after him, but missed him; and he, by the swiftness of his heels, escaped, and hid himself in the Alps.

Farther Persecutions in the Vallies of PIED|MONT, in the seventeenth Century.

GIGOVANNI PELANCHION, for refusing to turn papist, was tied by one leg to the tail of a mule, and dragged through the streets of Lu|cerne, amidst the acclamations of an inhuman mob, who kept stoning him, and crying out, He is pos|sessed with the devil, so that neither stoning, nor dragging him through the streets, will kill him, for the devil keeps him alive. They then took him to the river side, chopped off his head, and left that and his body unburied, upon the bank of the stream.

MAGDALEN, the daughter of Peter Fontaine, a beautiful child of 10 years of age, was ravished and murdered by the soldiers. Another girl of about the same age, they roasted alive at Villa Nova; and a poor woman hearing the soldiers were coming towards her house, snatched up the cradle in which her infant son was asleep, and fled towards the woods. The soldiers, however, saw and pursued her, when she lightened herself by putting down the cradle and child, which the soldiers no sooner came to, than they murdered the infant, and continuing the pur|suit, found the mother in a cave, where they first ravished, and then cut her to pieces.

JACOPO MICHELINO, chief elder of the church of Bobbio, and several other protestants, were hung up by means of hooks fixed in their bellies, and left to expire in the most excruciating tortures.

GIOVANNI ROSTAGNAL, a venerable protestant, upwards of fourscore years of age, had his nose and ears cut off, and slices cut from the fleshy parts of his body, till he bled to death.

SEVEN persons, viz. Daniel Saleagio and his wife, Giovanni Durant, Lodwich Durant, Bartholomew Durant, Daniel Revel, and Paul Reynaud, had their mouths stuffed with gunpowder, which being set fire to, their heads were blown to pieces.

JACOB BIRONE, a school-master of Rorata, for refusing to change his religion, was stripped quite naked; and after having been very indecently ex|posed, had the nails of his toes and fingers torn off with red hot pincers, and holes bored through his hands with the point of a dagger. He then had a cord tied round his middle, and was led through the streets with a soldier on each side of him. At every turning the soldier on his right hand side cut a gash in his flesh, and the soldier on his left-hand side struck him with a bludgeon, both saying, at the same instant, Will you go to mass? Will you go to mass? He still replied in the negative to these interrogatories, and being at length taken to the bridge, they cut off his head on the balustrades, and threw both that and his body into the river.

PAUL GARNIER, a very pious protestant, had his eyes put out, was then flead alive, and being divided into four parts, his quarters were placed on four of the principal houses of Lucerne. He bore all his sufferings with the most exemplary patience, praised God as long as he could speak, and plainly evinced, what confidence and resignation a good conscience can inspire.

DANIEL CARDON, of Rocappiata, being appre|hended by some soldiers, they cut his head off, and having fried his brains, eat them. Two poor old blind women, of St. Giovanni, were burnt alive; and a widow of La Torre, with her daughter were driven into the river, and there stoned to death.

PAUL GILES, on attempting to run away from some soldiers, was shot in the neck: they then slit his nose, sliced his chin, stabbed him, and gave his carcase to the dogs.

SOME of the Irish troops having taken eleven men of Garcigliana prisoners, they made a furnace red-hot, and forced them to push each other in till they came to the last man, whom they pushed in them|selves.

MICHAEL GONET, a man of 90, was burnt to death; Baptista Oudri, another old man was stabbed; and Bartholomew Frasche had holes made in his heels, through which ropes being put, he was drag|ged by them to the gaol, where his wounds morti|fied and killed him.

MAGDALENE DE LA PEIRE being pursued by some of the soldiers, and taken, was thrown down a pre|cipice, and dashed to pieces. Margaret Revella, and Mary Pravillerin, two very old women were burnt alive; and Michael Bellino, with Ann Bo|chardno, were beheaded.

THE son and daughter of a counsellor of Giovanni, were rolled down a steep hill together, and suf|fered to perish in a deep pit at the bottom. A tradesman's family, viz. himself, his wife, and an infant in arms, were cast from a rock, and dashed to pieces; and Joseph Chairet, and Paul Carniero, were flead alive.

CYPRIANIA BUSTIA, being asked if he would re|nounce his religion, and turn Roman catholic, re|plied, I would rather renounce life, or turn dog: to which a priest answered, for that expression you shall both renounce life, and be given to the dogs. They, accordingly, dragged him to prison, where he continued a considerable time without food, till he was famished; after which they threw his corpse into the street before the prison, and it was devoured by dogs in a most shocking manner.

MARGARET SARETTA was stoned to death, and then thrown into the river; Antonio Bertina had his head cleft asunder; and Joseph Pont was cut through the middle of his body.

DANIEL MARIA, and his whole family, being ill of a fever, several papist ruffians broke into his house, telling him they were practical physicians, and would give them all present ease, which they did, by knocking the whole family on the head.

THREE infant children of a protestant, named Peter Fine, were covered with snow, and stifled; an elderly w••dow, named Judith, was beheaded; and a beautiful young woman was stripped naked, and had a stake driven through her body, of which she expired.

LUCY, the wife of Peter Besson, a woman far gone in her pregnancy, who lived in one of the villages of the Piedmontese vallies, determined, if possible, to escape from such dreadful scenes as every where surrounded her: she, accordingly, took two young children, one in each hand, and set off towards the Alps. But on the third day of the journey she was taken in labour among the mountains, and delivered of an infant, who perish|ed through the extreme inclemency of the weather, as did the two other children: for all three were found dead by her, and herself just expiring, by the person to whom she related the above par|ticulars.

FRANCIS GROS, the son of a clergyman, had his flesh slowly cut from his body into small pieces, and put into a dish before him: two of his chil|dren were minced before his sight; and his wife was fastened to a post, that she might behold all these cruelties practised on her husband and off|spring. The tormentors, at length, being tired of exercising their cruelties, cut off the heads of both husband and wife, and then gave the flesh of the whole family to the dogs.

THE sieur Thomas Margher fled to a cave, when the soldiers shut up the mouth, and he perished with famine. Judith Revelin, with seven children, were barbarously murdered in their beds; and a widow, of near fourscore years of age, was hewn to pieces by soldiers.

JACOB ROSENO was ordered to pray to the saints, which he absolutely refused to do: some of the sol|diers beat him violently with bludgeons to make him comply, but he still refusing, several of them tired at him, and lodged a great many balls in his body. As he was almost expiring, they cried unto him, Will you call upon the saints? Will you pray to the saints? To which he answered, No! No! No! when one of the soldiers, with a broad sword, clove his head asunder, and put an end to his suffer|ings in this world; for which undoubtedly, he is gloriously rewarded in the next.

A soldier, attempting to ravish a young woman, named Susanna G••acquin, she made a stout resist|ance, and in the struggle pushed him over a preci|pice, when he was dashed to pieces by the fall. His comrades, instead of admiring the virtue of the young woman, and applauding her for so nobly defending her chastity, fell upon her with their swords, and cut her to pieces.

GIOVANNI PULLIUS, a poor peasant of La Torre, being apprehended as a protestant by the soldiers, was ordered by the marquis of Pianessa, to be exe|cuted in a place near the convent. When he came to the gallows, several monks attended, and did all they could to persuade him to renounce his reli|gion. But he told them, he never would embrace idolatry, and that he was happy in being thought worthy to suffer for the name of Christ. They then put him in mind of what his wife and chil|dren, who depended upon his labour, would suffer after his decease: To which he replied, I would have my wife and children, as well as myself, to consider their souls more than their bodies, and the next world before this: and with respect to the distress I may leave them in, God is merciful, and will provide for them while they are worthy of his protection. Finding the inflexibility of this poor man, the monks cried, Turn him off, turn him off; which the executioner did almost immediately, and the body being afterwards cut down, was flung into the river.

PAUL CLEMENT, an elder of the church of Ros|sana, being apprehended by the monks of a neigh|bouring monastery, was carried to the market-place of that town, where some protestants having just been executed by the soldiers, he was shewn the dead bodies, in order that the sight might intimi|date him. On beholding the shocking objects, he said, calmly, You may kill the body, but you can|not prejudice the soul of a true believer; but, with respect to the dreadful spectacles which you have here shewn me, you may rest assured, that God's vengeance will overtake the murderers of those poor people, and punish them for the innocent blood they have spilt. The monks were so exasperated at this reply, that they ordered him to be hung up directly, and while he was hanging, the soldiers amused themselves in standing at a distance, and shooting at the body as at a mark.

DANIEL RAMBAUT, of Vill••ro, the father of a

numerous family, was apprehended, and, with se|veral others, committed to prison, in the gaol of Paysana. Here he was visited by several priests, who, with continual importunities, did all they could to persuade him to renounce the protestant religion, and turn papist; but this he peremptorily refused, and the priests finding his resolution, pre|tended to pity his numerous family, and told him, that he might yet have his life, if he would sub|scribe to the belief of the following articles:

1. THE real presence in the host.

2. TRANSUBSTANTIATION.

3. PURGATORY.

4. THE pope's infallibility.

5. THAT masses said for the dead will release souls from purgatory.

6. THAT praying to saints will procure the re|mission of sins.

M. RAMBAUT told the priests, that neither his religion, his understanding, or his conscience, would suffer him to subscribe to any of the articles, for the following reasons:

1. THAT to believe the real presence in the host, is a shocking union of both blasphemy and idolatry.

2. THAT to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the words of consecration performs what the papists call transubstantiation, by converting the wafer and wine into the real and identical body and blood of Christ, which was crucified▪ and which afterwards ascended into heaven, is too gross an absurdity for even a child to believe, who was come to the least glimmering of reason; and that nothing but the most blind super|stition could make the Roman catholics put a con|fidence in any thing so completely ridiculous.

3. THAT the doctrine of purgatory was more inconsistent and absurd than a fairy tale.

4. THAT the pope's being infallible was an im|possibility, and the pope arrogantly laid claim to what could belong to God only, as a perfect being.

5. THAT saying masses for the dead was ridicu|lous, and only meant to keep up a belief in the fable of purgatory, as the fate of all is finally decided, on the departure of the soul from the body.

6. THAT praying to the saints for the remission of sins, is misplacing adoration; as the saints them|selves have occasion for an intercessor in Christ. Therefore as God only can pardon our errors, we ought to sue to him alone for pardon.

THE priests were so highly offended at M. Ram|baut's answers to the articles to which they would have had him subscribe, that they determined to shake his resolution by the most cruel method ima|ginable: they ordered one joint of his fingers to be cut off every day, till all his fingers were gone: they then proceeded in the same manner with his toes; afterwards they alternately cut off, daily, a hand and a foot; but finding that he bore his suf|ferings with the most admirable patience, increased both in fortitude and resignation, and maintained his faith with stedfast resolution, and unshaken con|stancy, they stabbed him to the heart, and then gave his body to be devoured by dogs.

PETER GABRIOLA, a protestant gentleman of con|siderable eminence, being seized by a troop of sol|diers, and refusing to renounce his religion, they hung a great number of little bags of gunpowder about his body, and then setting fire to them blew him up.

ANTHONY, the son of Samuel Catieris, a poor dumb lad who was extremely inoffensive was cut to pieces by a party of the troops; and soon after the same ruffians ••••tered the house of Peter Moni|riat, and cut off the legs of the whole family, lea|ving them to bleed to death, as they were unable to assist themselves, or to help each other.

DANIEL BENECH being apprehended, had his nose slit, his ears cut off, and was then divided into quarters, each quarter being hung upon a tree; and Mary Monino had her jaw bones broke, and was then left to languish till she was famished.

MARY PELANCHION, a handsome widow, belong|ing to the town of Villaro, was seized by a party of

the Irish brigades, who having beat her cruelly, and ravished her▪ dragged her to a high bridge which crossed the river, and stripped her naked in a most indecent manner, hung her by the legs to the bridge, with her head downwards towards the water, and then going into boats, they fired at her till she expired.

MARY NIGRINO, and her daughter, who was an idiot, were cut to pieces in the woods, and their bodies left to be devoured by wild beasts: Susanna Bales, a widow of Villaro, was immured till she pe|rished through hunger; and Susanna Calvio run|ning away from some soldiers and hiding ••erself in a barn, they set fire to the straw and burnt her.

PAUL ARMAND was hacked to pieces; a child named Daniel Bertino was burnt; Daniel Michia|lino had his tongue plucked out, and was left to perish in that condition; and Andreo Bertino, a very old man, who was lame, was mangled in a most shocking manner, and at length had his belly ripped open, and his bowels carried about on the point of a halbert.

CONSTANTIA BELLIONE, a protestant lady, being apprehended on account of her faith, was asked by a priest if she would renounce the devil and go to mass; to which she replied, "I was brought up in a religion, by which I was always taught to re|nounce the devil; but should I comply with your desire, and go to mass, I should be sure to meet him there in a variety of shapes." The priest was highly incensed at what she said, and told her to re|cant, or she should suffer cruelly. The lady, how|ever, boldly answered, that she valued not any suf|ferings he could inflict, and in spite of all the tor|ments he could invent, she would keep her conscience pure and her faith inviolate. The priest then or|dered slices of her flesh to be cut off from several parts of her body, which cruelty she bore with the most singular patience, only saying to the priest, what horrid and lasting torments will you suffer in hell, for the trifling and temporary pains which I now endure. Exasperated at this expression, and willing to stop her tongue▪ the priest ordered a file of musqueteers to draw up and fire upon ••er, by which she was soon dispatched, and sealed her mar|tyrdom with her blood.

A young woman, named Judith Mandon, for refusing to change her religion and embrace popery, was fastened to a stake, and sticks thrown at her from a distance, in the very same manner as that barbarous custom which was formerly practised on Shrove-Tuesday of sh••ing at co••ks as it was term|ed. By this inhuman proceeding, the poor crea|ture's limbs were beat and mangled in a terrible manner, and her brains were at last dasired out by one of the bludgeons.

DAVID PAGLIA and Paul Genre, attempting to escape to the Alps, with each his son, were pur|sued and overtaken by the soldiers in a large plain. Here they hunted them for their diversion, goading them with their swords, and making them run a|bout till they dropped down with fatigue. When they found that their spirits were quite exhausted, and that they could not afford them any more bar|barous sport, by running, the soldiers hacked them to pieces, and left their mangled bodies on the spot.

A young man of Bobbio, named Michael Greve, was apprehended in the town of La Torre, and be|ing led to the bridge, was thrown over into the river. As he could swim very well, he swam down the stream, thinking to escape, but the soldiers and mo•• followed on both sides of the river, and kept stoning him, till receiving a blow on one of his tem|ples, he was stunned, and consequently sunk and was drowned.

DAVID ARMAND was ordered to lay his head down upon a block, when a soldier, with a large hammer, beat out his brains. David Baridona be|ing apprehended at Villaro, was carried to La Tor|re, where refusing to renounce his religion, he was tormented by means of brimstone matches being tied between his fingers and toes, and set fire 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ and afterwards, by having his flesh plucked off with red hot pincers, till he expired; and Giovanni 〈◊〉〈◊〉, with his wife, were thrown into a pool of stagnant water, and compelled, by means of pitch-fork•• 〈…〉〈…〉 down their heads till they 〈…〉〈…〉.

A 〈…〉〈…〉 of soldiers went to the house of Jo|seph 〈…〉〈…〉 they entered, fired in 〈◊〉〈◊〉

the window, to give notice of their approach. A musquet ball entered one of Mrs. Garniero's breasts, as she was suckling an infant with the other. On finding their intentions, she begged hard that they would spare the life of the infant, which they pro|mised to do, and sent it immediately to a Roman catholic nurse. They then took the husband and hanged him at his own door, and having shot the wife through the head, they left her body weltering in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 blood, and her husband hanging on the gal|lows.

ISAIAH MONDON, an elderly man, and a pious protestant, fled from the merciless persecutors to a cleft in a rock, where he suffered the most dreadful hardships; for, in the midst of the winter, he was forced to lay on the bare stone, without any cover|ing; his food was the roots he could scratch up near his miserable habitation; and the only way by which he could procure drink, was to put snow in his mouth till it melted. Here, however, some of the inhuman soldiers found him, and after having beat|en him unmercifully, they drove him towards Lu|cerne, goading him with the points of their swords. Being exceedingly weakened by his manner of liv|ing, and his spirits exhausted by the blows he had received, he fell down in the road. They again beat him to make him proceed; when, on his knees, he implored them to put him out of his misery, by dispatching him. This they at last agreed to do▪ and one of them stepping up to him, shot him through the head▪ with a pistol, saying, There, he|reti••, take thy 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

MARY REVEL, a worthy protestant, received a a shot in her back, as she was walking along the street. She dropped down with the wound, but recovering sufficient strength, she raised herself up|on her 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 her hands towards heaven▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ in a most fervent manner, to the Almigh|ty▪ when a number of soldiers▪ who were near at hand, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a whole volley of shot at her, many of which took place, and put an end to her miseries in an 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 men, women, and children, 〈…〉〈…〉 for two of the men 〈…〉〈…〉 it was necessary, and by stealth procure provisions. These were, however, one day watched, by which the cave was discovered, and, soon after, a troop of Roman catholics ap|peared before it. The papists that assembled upon this occasion were neighbours, and intimate ac|quaintances of the protestants in the cave; and some of them were even related to each other. The protestants, therefore, came out, and implor|ed them, by the ties of hospitality, by the ties of blood, and as old acquaintances and neighbours, not to murder them. But superstition overcomes every sensation of nature and humanity; so that the papists, blinded by bigotry, told them, they could not shew any mercy to heretics, and, there|fore, had them all prepare to die. Hearing this, and knowing the fatal obstinacy of the Roman ca|tholics, the protestants all fell prostrate, lifted their hands and hearts to heaven, prayed with great sin|cerity and fervency, and then bowing down, put their faces close to the ground, and patiently awaited their fate, which was soon decided, for the papists fell upon them with unremitting fury, and having cut them to pieces, left the mangled bodies and limbs in the cave.

GIOVANNI SALVACION, passing by a Roman ca|tholic church, and not taking off his hat, was fol|lowed by some of the congregation, who fell upon and murdered him; and Jacob Barrel and his wife, having been taken prisoners by the earl of St. Se|condo, one of the duke of Savoy's officers, he delivered them up to the soldiery, who cut off the woman's breasts, and the man's nose, and then shot both through the head.

ANTHONY GUIGUO, a protestant, of a wavering disposition, went to Periero, with an intent to re|nounce his religion, and embrace popery. This design he communicated to some priests, who high|ly commended it, and a day was fixed upon for his public recantation. In the mean time▪ Anthony grew fully sensible of his perfidy, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his conscience tormented him so much, night and day, that he determined not to recant, but to make his escape. This he effected, but being soon missed and pursued, he was taken. The troops on the way did all they could to bring him back to his design of recanta|tion; but finding their endeavours ineffectual, they beat him violently on the road, when coming

near a precipice, he took an opportunity of leap|ing down it, and was dashed to pieces.

A protestant gentleman, of considerable fortune, at Bobbio, being highly provoked by the insolence of a priest, retorted with great severity; and, among other things, said, that the pope was Anti|christ, mass idolatry, purgatory a farce, and abso|lution a cheat. To be revenged, the priest hired five desperate ruffians, who, the same evening, broke into the gentleman's house, and seized upon him in a violent manner. The gentleman was ter|ribly frightened, fell on his knees, and implored mercy; but the desperate ruffians dispatched him without the least hesitation.

A Narrative of the PIEDMONTESE WAR.

THE massacres and murders, already mention|ed to have been committed in the vallies of Piedmont, nearly depopulated most of the towns and villages. One place only had not been assault|ed, and that was owing to the difficulty of approach|ing it: this was the little commonalty of Roras, which was situated upon a rock.

AS the work of blood grew slack in other places, the earl of Christople, one of the duke of Savoy's officers, determined, if possible, to make himself master of it; and, with that view, detached three hundred men to surprize it secretly.

THE inhabitants of Roras, however, had intel|ligence of the approach of these troops, when cap|tain Joshua Gianavel, a brave protestant officer, put himself at the head of a small body of the citizens, and waited in ambuscade to attack the enemy in a small defile.

WHEN the troops appeared, and had entered the defile, which was the only place by which the town could be approached, the protestants kept up a smart and well directed fire against them, and still kept themselves concealed behind bushes from the sight of the enemy. A great number of the sol|diers were killed and the remainder receiving a con|tinued fire, and not seeing any to whom they might return it, thought proper to retreat.

THE members of this little community then sent a memorial to the marquis of Pianessa, one of the duke's general officers, setting forth, "That they were sorry, upon any occasion, to be under the ne|cessity of taking up arms; but that the ••••cret ap|proach of a body of troops, without any reason assigned, or any previous notice sent 〈…〉〈…〉 purpose of their coming, had greatly alarmed them; that as it was their custom never to suffer any of the military to enter their little community, they had repelled force by force, and should do so again; but in all other respects, they professed themselves dutiful, obedient, and loyal subjects to their sove|reign the duke of Savoy."

THE marquis of Pianessa, that he might have the better opportunity of deluding and surprizing the protestants of Roras, sent them word in answer, "That he was perfectly satisfied with their behavi|our, for they had done right, and even rendered a service to their country, as the men who had at|tempted to pass the defile were not his troops, or sent by him, but a band of desperate robbers, who had, for some time, infested those parts, and been a terror to the neighbouring country." To give a greater colour to his treachery, he then published a proclamation, which ran thus:

To the Inhabitants of all the Towns, Villages, Hamlets, &c. in Piedmont, and the Appenda|ges thereunto belonging; and to the united troops belonging to, or in the pay of, his Highness the Duke of Savoy, greeting:

WHEREAS the inhabitants of Roras have bravely and loyally routed, killed, or expelled, a band of bloody robbers, and desperate outlaws, and there|by rendered an essential service to the country in ge|neral. Be it, therefore, known, that all persons are strictly ordered and commanded, in the duke's name, not to injure, molest, or disturb any of the inhabitants of Roras, but to do them every possible service, in return for the benefit which the state hath received from them.

PIANESSA.

Given at the Camp near Villaro.

YET, the very day after this plausible proclama|tion, and specious conduct, the marquis sent 500 men to possess themselves of Roras, while the peo|ple, as he thought, were lulled into perfect securi|ty, by h••s specious behaviour.

CAPTAIN GIANAVEL, however, was not to be deceived so easily: he, therefore, laid an ambus|cad•• for this body of troops, as he had for the for|mer, and compelled them to retire with very con|siderable loss

THOUGH foiled in these two attempts, the mar|quis Pianessa determined on a third, which should be still more formidable; but first he imprudently published another proclamation, disowning any knowledge of the second attempt.

SOON after, 700 chosen men were sent upon the expedition, who, in spite of the fire from the pro|testants, forced the defile, entered Roras, and be|gan to murder every person they met with, without distinction of sex or age. The protestant Captain Gianavel, at the head of a small body, though he had lost the defile, determined to dispute their pas|sage through a fortified pass, that led to the richest and best part of the town. Here he was successful, by keeping up a continual fire, and by means of his men being all complete marksmen. The Roman catholic commander was greatly staggered at this opposition, as he imagined that he had surmounted all difficulties. He, however, did his endeavours to force the pass, but being able to bring up only twelve men in front at a time, and the protestants being secured by a breast-work, he found he should be baffled by the handful of men who opposed him.

ENRAGED at the loss of so many of his troops, and fearful of disgrace if he persisted in attempting what appeared so impracticable, he thought it the wisest thing to retreat. Unwilling, however, to withdraw his men by the defile at which he had en|tered, on account of the difficulty and danger of the enterprize, he designed to retreat towards Vil|laro, by another pass called Piampra, which, though hard of access, was easy of descent. But in this he met with a disappointment, for captain Gianavel having posted his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and here, greatly annoyed the troops as they 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and even pursued their rear till they entered the open country.

THE marquis of Pianessa, finding that all his at|tempts were frustrated, and that every artifice he used was only an alarm-signal to the inhabitants of Roras, resolved to act openly, and therefore pro|claimed, that ample rewards should be given to any one who would bear arms against the obstinate he|retics of Roras, as he called them; and that any officer, who would exterminate them, should be rewarded in a princely manner.

THIS engaged captain Mario, a bigoted Roman catholic, and a desperate ruffian, to undertake the enterprize. He, therefore, obtained leave to raise a regiment in the following six towns: Lucerne, Borges, Famolas, Bobbio, Bagnal, and Cavos.

HAVING completed his regiment, which consisted of 1000 men, he laid his plan not to go by the de|files, or the passes, but to attempt gaining the sum|mit of a rock, from whence he imagined he could pour his men into the town, without much difficul|ty or opposition.

THE protestants suffered the Roman catholic troops to gain almost the summit of the rock, with|out giving them any opposition, or ever appearing in their sight: but when they had almost reached the top, they made a most furious attack upon them; one party keeping up a well-directed and constant fire, and another party rolling down huge stones.

THIS stopped the career of the papist troops: many were killed by the musquetry, and more by the stones, which beat them down the precipices. Several fell sacrifices to their hurry, for by attempt|ing a precipitate retreat, they fell down, and were dashed to pieces; and captain Mario himself nar|rowly escaped with life, for he fell from a craggy place into a river which washed the foot of the rock. He was taken up senseless, but afterwards recover|ed, though he was ill of the bruises for a long time; and, at length, fell into a decline at Lucerne, where he died.

ANOTHER body of troops was ordered from the camp at Villaro, to make an attempt upon Roras; but these were likewise defeated, by means of the protestants ambush-fighting, and compelled to re|treat again to the camp at Villaro.

AFTER each of these signal victories, captain Gianavel made a suitable discourse to his men, caus|ing them to kneel down, and return thanks to the Almighty for his providential protection; and usu|ally concluded with the 11th psalm, where the sub|ject is, placing confidence in God.

THE marquis of Pianessa was greatly enraged at being so much baffled by the few inhabitants of Roras: he, therefore, determined to attempt their expulsion, in such a manner as could hardly fail of success.

WITH this view he ordered all the Roman catho|lic militia of Piedmont to be raised and disciplined. When these orders were completed, he joined to the militia eight thousand regular troops, and di|viding the whole into three distinct bodies, he de|signed, that three formidable attacks should be made at the same time, unless the people of Roras, to whom he sent an account of his great prepara|tions, would comply with the following conditions:

1. To ask pardon for taking up arms.

2. To pay the expences of all the expeditions sent against them.

3. To acknowledge the infallibility of the pope.

4. To go to mass.

5. To pray to the saints.

6. To wear beards.

7. To deliver up their ministers.

8. To deliver up their school-masters.

9. To go to confession.

10. To pay loans for the delivery of souls from purgatory.

11. To give up captain Gianavel at discretion.

12. To give up the elders of their church at discretion.

THE inhabitants of Roras, on being acquainted with these conditions, were filled with an honest in|dignation; and, in answer, sent word to the mar|quis, that sooner than comply with them they would suffer three things, which, of all others, were the most obnoxious to mankind, viz.

• 1. THEIR estates to be seized.
• 2. THEIR houses to be burnt.
• 3. THEMSELVES to be murdered.

EXASPERATED at this message, the marquis sent them this laconic epistle:

To the obstinate Heretics inhabiting Roras.

YOU shall have your request, for the troops sent against you have strict injunctions to plunder, burn, and kill.

PIANESSA.

THE three armies were then put into motion, and the attacks ordered to be made thus: the first by the rocks of Villaro; the second by the pass of Bagnol; and the third by the defile of Lucerne.

THE troops forced their way by the superiority of numbers, and having gained the rocks, pass, and defile, began to make the most horrid depre|dations, and exercise the greatest cruelties. Men they hanged, burnt, racked to death, or cut to pieces; women they ripped open, crucified, drown|ed, or threw from the precipices; and children they tossed upon spears, minced, cut their throats, or dashed out their brains. One hundred and twenty-six suffered in this manner, on the first day of their gaining the town.

AGREEABLE to the marquis of Pianessa's orders, they likewise plundered the estates, and burnt the houses of the people. Several protestants, howe|ver, made their escape, under the conduct of cap|tain Gianavel, whose wife and children were un|fortunately made prisoners, and sent under a strong guard to Turin.

THE marquis of Pianessa wrote a letter to captain Gianavel, and released a protestant prisoner, that

he might carry it him. The contents were, that if the captain would embrace the Roman catholic religion, he should be indemnified for all his losses since the commencement of the war; his wife and children should be immediately released, and him|self honourably promoted in the duke of Savoy's army; but if he refused to accede to the proposals made him, his wife and children should be put to death; and so large a reward should be given to take him, dead or alive, that even some of his own confidential friends should be tempted to betray him, from the greatness of the sum.

TO this epistle the brave Gianavel sent the fo••|lowing answer:

My Lord Marquis,

THERE is no torment so great or death so cruel, but what I would prefer to the abju|ration of my religion: so that promises lose their effects, and menaces only strengthen me in my faith.

WITH respect to my wife and children, my lord, nothing can be more afflicting to me, than the thoughts of their confinement, or more dreadful to my imagination, than their suffering a violent and cruel death. I keenly feel all the tender sen|sations of husband and parent; my heart is replete with every sentiment of humanity; I would suffer my torment to rescue them from danger; I would die to preserve them.

BUT having said thus much, my lord, I assure you that the purchase of their lives must not be the price of my salvation. You have them in your power it is true; but my consolation is, that your power is only a temporary authority over their bo|dies: you may destroy the mortal part, but their immortal souls are out of your reach, and will live hereafter, to bear testimony against you for your cruelties. I therefore recommend them and my|self to God, and pray for a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in your heart.

J••••HUA GIANAVEL.

THIS brave protestant officer, after writing the above letter, retired to the Alps, with his followers; and being joined by a great number of other fugi|tive protestants, he harrassed the enemy by conti|nual skirmishes.

MEETING one day with a body of papist troops, near Bibiana, he, though inferior in numbers, at|tacked them with great fury, and put them to the rout withou•• ••he loss of a man, though he himself was shot through the leg in the engagement, by a soldier who had hid himself behind a tree; but Gianavel perceiving from whence the shot came, pointed his gun to the place, and dispatched the person who had wounded him.

CAPTIAN GIANAVEL hearing that a captain Ja••hier had collected together a considerable body protestants, wrote him a letter, proposing a junctio•• of their forces. Captain Jahier immediately agreed to the proposal, and marched directly to meet Gianavel.

THE junction being formed, it was proposed to attack a town, (inhabited by Roman catholics) cal|led Gareigliana. The assault was given with great spirit, but a reinforcement of horse and foot having lately entered the town, which the protestants knew nothing of, they were repulsed: yet made a master|ly retreat, and only lost one man in the action.

THE next attempt of the protestant forces was upon St. Secondo, which they attacked with great vigour, but met with a strong resistance from the Roman catholic troops, who had fortified the streets, and planted themselves in the houses, from whence they poured musquet-balls in prodigious numbers. The protestants, however, advanced, under covert of a great number of planks, which some held over their heads, to secure them from the shot of the enemy from the houses, while others kept up a well-directed fire; so that the houses and intrench|ments were soon forced, and the town taken.

IN the town they found a prodigious quantity of plunder, which had been taken from the pro|testants at various times, and different places, and which were stored up in warehouses, churches, dwelling houses, &c. This they removed to a place of safety, to be distributed, with as much justice as possible, among the sufferers.

THIS successful attack was made with such skill and spirit, that it cost very little to the conquering party; the protestants having only 17 killed, and 26 wounded: while the papists suffered a loss of no less than 450 killed, and 511 wounded.

FIVE protestant officers, viz. Gianavel, Jahier, Laurentio, Genolet, and Benet, laid a plan to sur|prise Briqueras. To this end they marched in five respective bodies, and, by agreement, were to make the attack at the same time. The captains Jahier and Laurentio passed through two defiles in the woods, and came to the place in safety, under co|vert: but the other three bodies made their ap|proaches through an open country, and, conse|quently, were more exposed to an attack.

THE Roman catholics taking the alarm, a great number of troops were sent to relieve Briqueras from Cavors, Bibiana, Fenile, Campiglione, and some other neighbouring places. When these were united, they determined to attack the three protes|tant parties, that were marching through the open country.

THE protestant officers, perceiving the intent of the enemy, and not being at a great distance from each other, joined their forces with the utmost expedition, and formed themselves in order of battle.

IN the mean time, the captains Jahier and Lau|rentio had assaulted the town of Briqueras, and burnt all the out-houses, to make their approaches with the greater ease; but not being supported as they expected by the other three protestant captains, they sent a messenger, on a swift horse, towards the open country, to inquire the reason.

THE messenger soon returned, and informed them that it was not in the power of the three protestant captains to support their proceedings, as they were themselves attacked by a very superior force in the plain, and could scarce sustain the unequal conflict.

THE captains Jahier and Laurentio, on receiving this intelligence, determined to discontinue the as|sault on Briquera and to proceed, with all possible expedition, to the relief of their friends on the plain. This design proved to be of the most essen|tial service, for just as they arrived at the spot where the two armies were engaged, the papist troops be|gan to prevail, and were on the point of flanking the wing, commanded by captain Gianavel. The arrival of these troops turned the scale in favour of the protestants; and the papist forces, though they fought with a most obstinate intrepidity, were to|tally defeated. A great number were killed and wounded on both sides, and the baggage, military stores, &c. taken by the protestants were very con|siderable.

CAPTAIN GIANAVEL, having information that three hundred of the enemy were to convoy a great quantity of stores, provisions, &c. from La Torre to the castle of Mirabac, determined to attack them on the way. He, accordingly, began the assault at Malbec, though with a very inadequate force. The contest was long and bloody, but the protestants, at length, were obliged to yield to the superiority of numbers, and compelled to make a retreat, which they did with great regularity, and but little loss.

CAPTAIN GIANAVEL advanced to an advantage|ous post, situated near the town of Villaro, and then sent the following information and commands to the inhabitants:

1. THAT he should attack the town in twenty-four hours.

2. THAT with respect to the Roman catholics who had borne arms, whether they belonged to the army or not, he should act by the law of retaliation, and put them to death, for the numerous depre|dations, and many cruel murders, they had com|mitted.

3. THAT all women and children, whatever their religion might be, should be safe.

4. THAT he commanded all male protestants to leave the town, and join him.

5. THAT all apostates, who had, through weak|ness, abjured their religion, should be deemed ene|mies, unless they renounced their abjuration.

6. THAT all who returned to their duty to God, and themselves, should be received as friends.

THE protestants, in general, immediately left the town, and joined captain Gianavel with great satis|faction, and the few, who through weakness or fear had abjured their faith, recanted their abjuration, and were received into the bosom of the church. As the marquis of Pianessa had removed the army, and encamped in quite a different part of the coun|try, the Roman catholics in Villaro thought it would be folly to pretend to defend the place with the small force they had. They, therefore, fled with the utmost precipitation, leaving the town, and most of their property, to the discretion of the protestants.

THE protestant commanders having called a coun|cil of war, resolved to make an attempt upon the town of La Torre, for four particular reasons, viz.

1. BECAUSE it was a place of great importance.

2. BECAUSE it contained a great quantity of mi|litary stores and provisions.

3. BECAUSE the inhabitants had been some of the most rigid of all the persecutors of the protestants.

4. BECAUSE it was garrisoned by troops drafted from the Irish brigades, who were the most cruel of all the troops, to the protestants whom they took prisoners.

THE papists being apprized of the design, de|tached some troops to defend a defile, through which the protestants must make their approach; but these were defeated, compelled to abandon the pass, and forced to retreat to La Torre.

THE protestants proceeded on their march, and the troops of La Torre, on their near approach, made a furious sally, but were repulsed with great loss, and compelled to seek shelter in the town. The governor now only thought of defending the place, which the protestants began to attack in form; but after many brave attempts, and furious assaults, the commanders determined to abandon the enterprize for several reasons, particularly, be|cause they found the place itself too strong, their own number too weak, and their cannon not ade|quate to the task of battering down the walls.

THIS resolution being taken, the protestant com|manders began a masterly retreat, and conducted it with such regularity, that the enemy did not chuse to pursue them, or molest their rear, which they might have done, as they passed the defiles.

THE next day they mustered, reviewed the army, and found the whole to amount to four hundred and ninety-five men. They then held a council of war, and planned an easier enterprize: this was to make an attack upon the commonalty of Crusol, a place inhabited by a number of the most bigoted Roman catholics, and who had exercised, during the persecutions, the most unheard of cruelties on the protestants.

THE people of Crusol, hearing of the design a|gainst them, fled to a neighbouring fortress, situat|ed on a rock, where the protestants could not come at them, for a very few men could render it inac|cessible to a numerous army. Thus they secured their persons, but were in too much hurry to secure their property, the principal part of which, indeed, had been plundered from the protestants, and now luckily fell again to the possession of the right own|ers. It consisted of many rich and valuable articles, and what, at that time, was of much more conse|quence, viz. A great quantity of military stores; four hundred head of cattle; six hundred sheep and goats; a greater number of cheeses, many sacks of flour, several butts of wine, and good store of raisins.

THE day after the protestants were gone with their booty, eight hundred troops arrived to the assistance of the people of Crusol, having been dis|patched from Lucerne, Briqueras, Cavors, &c. But finding themselves too late, and that a pursuit would be in vain, not to return empty handed, they began to plunder the neighbouring villages, though what they took was from their friends. After col|lecting a tolerable booty, they began to divide it, but disagreeing about the different shares, they fell from words to blows, did a great deal of mischief, and then plundered each other.

ON the very same day in which the protestants were so successful at Crusol, some papists marched with a design to plunder and burn the little protes|tant village of Rocappiatta, but by the way they met with the protestant forces belonging to the captains Jahier and Laurentio, who were posted on the hill of Angrognia. A trivial engagement en|sued, for the Roman catholics, on the very first at|tack, retreated in great confusion, and were pursued with much slaughter. After the pursuit was over, some of the straggling papist troops meeting with a poor peasant, who was a protestant, tied a cord round his head, and strained it till his skull was quite crushed.

CAPTAIN GIANAVEL and captain Jahier concert|ed a design together, to make an attack upon Lu|cerne; but captain Jahier not bringing his forces at the time appointed, captain Gianavel determined to attempt the enterprize himself.

HE, therefore, by a forced march, proceeded to|wards that place during the whole night, and was close to it by break of day. His first care was to cut the pipes that conveyed water into the town, and then to break down the bridge, by which alone provisions from the country could enter.

HE then assaulted the place, and speedily posses|sed himself of two of the out-ports; but finding he could not make himself master of the place, he prudently retreated with very little loss, blaming, however, captain Jahier, for the failure of the enterprize.

THE papists being informed that captain Giana|vel was at Angrognia, with only his own company, determined, if possible, to surprize him. With this view, a great number of troops were detached from La Torre, and other places: one party of these got on the top of a mountain, beneath which he was posted; and the other party intended to possess themselves of the gate of St. Bartholomew.

THE papists thought themselves sure of taking captain Gianavel and every one of his men, as they consisted but of three hundred, and their own force was two thousand five hundred. Their design, however, was providentially frustrated, for one of the popish soldiers imprudently blowing a trumpet before the signal for attack was given, captain Gia|navel took the alarm, and posted his little company so advantageously at the gate of St. Bartholomew, and at the defile by which the enemy must descend from the mountains, that the Roman catholic troops failed in both attacks, and were repulsed, with very considerable loss.

SOON after captain Jahier came to Angrognia, and joined his forces to those of captain Gianavel, giving sufficient reasons to excuse his already-men|tioned failure. Captain Jahier now made several secret excursions with great success, selecting al|ways some of the most active troops, belonging both to Gianavel and himself. One day he had put himself at the head of only forty-four men, to proceed upon an expedition, when entering a plain near Offac, he was suddenly surrounded by a large body of horse. Captain Jahier, and his men, fought desperately, though oppressed by odds, and killed the commander in chief, three captains, and fifty-seven private men, of the enemy. But captain Jahier himself being killed, with thirty-five of his men, the rest surrendered. One of the soldiers cut off captain Jahier's head, and carrying it to Turin, presented it to the duke of Savoy, who rewarded him with six hundred ducatoons.

THE death of this gentleman was a signal loss to the protestants, as he was a real friend to, and champion of, the reformed church. He possessed a most undaunted spirit, so that no difficulties could deter him from undertaking an enterprize, or dan|gers terrify him in its execution. He was pious without affectation, and humane without weakness; bold in the field, meek in a domestic life, of a pe|netrating genius, active in spirit; and resolute in all his undertakings.

TO add to the affliction of the protestants, cap|tain Gianavel was, soon after, wounded in such a manner that he was obliged to keep his bed. They, however, took new courage from misfor|tunes, and determining not to let their spirits droop, attacked a body of popish troops with great intre|pidity; the protestants were much inferior in num|bers, but fought with more resolution than the papists, and at length routed them, with consider|able

slaughter. During the action, a serjeant, nam|ed Michael Bertino, was killed; when his son, who was close behind him, leaped into his place, and said, I have lost my father; but courage, fellow-soldiers, God is a father to us all.

SEVERAL skirmishes likewise happened between the troops of La Torre and Tagliaretto, and the protestant forces, which in general terminated in savour of the latter.

A protestant gentleman, named Andrion, raised a regiment of horse, and took the command of it himself. The sieur John Leger persuaded a great number of protestants to form themselves into vo|lunteer companies; and an excellent officer, named Michelin, instituted several bands of light troops. These being all joined to the remains of the veteran protestant troops, (for great numbers had been lost in the various battles, skirmishes, fieges, &c.) com|posed a respectable army, which the officers thought proper to encamp near St. Giovanni.

THE Roman catholic commanders, alarmed at the formidable appearance, and increased strength of the protestant forces, determined, if possible, to dislodge them from their encampment. With this view they collected together a large force, consisting of the principal part of the garrisons of the Roman catholic towns, the draft from the Irish brigades, a great number of regulars sent by the marquis of Pianessa, the auxiliary troops, and the independent companies.

THESE having formed a junction, encamped near the protestants, and spent several days in calling councils of war, and disputing on the most proper mode of proceeding. Some were for plundering the country, in order to draw the protestants from their camp; others were for patiently waiting till they were attac••ed; and a third party were for as|saulting the protestant camp, and trying to make themselves masters of every thing in it.

THE last of them prevailed, and the morning af|ter the resolution had been taken was appointed to put it into execution. The Roman catholic troops were accordingly separated into four divisions, three of which were to make an attack in different places; and the fourth to remain as a body of reserve to act as occasion might require.

ONE of the Roman catholic officers, previous to the attack, thus harangued his men.

"FELLOW soldiers, you are now going to enter upon a great action, which will bring you fame and riches. The motives for your acting with spirit are likewise of the most important nature; namely, the honour of showing your loyalty to your sove|reign, the pleasure of spilling heretic blood, and the prospect of plundering the protestant camp. So, my brave fellows, fall on, give no quarter, kill all you meet, and take all you come near."

AFTER this inhuman speech the engagement be|gan, and the protestant camp was attacked in three places with inconceivable fury. The fight was maintained with great obstinacy and perseverance on both sides, continuing without intermission for the space of four hours; for the several com|panies on both sides relieved each other alternately, and by that means kept up a continual fire during the whole action.

DURING the engagement of the main armies, a detachment was sent from the body of reserve to attack the post of Castelas, which, if the papists had carried, it would have given them the command of the vallies of Perosa, St. Martino, and Lucerne; but they were repulsed with great loss, and com|pelled to return to the body of reserve, from whence they had been detached.

SOON after the return of this detachment, the Roman catholic troops, being hard pressed in the main battle, sent for the body of reserve to come to their support. These immediately marched to their assistance, and for some time longer held the event doubtful; but at length the valour of the protes|tants prevailed, and the papists were totally de|feated, with the loss of upwards of three hundred men killed, and many more wounded.

WHEN the syndic of Lucerne, who was indeed a papist, but not a superstitious one, saw the great number of wounded men brought into that city, he exclaimed, Ah! I thought the wolves used to

devour the heretics, but now I see the heretics eat the wolves. This expression being reported to M. Marolles, the Roman catholic commander in chief at Lucerne, he sent a very severe and threatening letter to the syndic, who was so terrified, that the fright threw him into a fever, and he died in a few days.

THIS great battle was fought just before the har|vest was got in; when the papists, exasperated at their disgrace, and resolved on any kind of revenge, spread themselves by night in detached parties over the finest corn fields of the protestants, and set them on fire in sundry places. Some of these straggling parties, however, suffered for their conduct; for the protestants, being alarmed in the night by the blazing of the fire among the corn, pursued the fu|gitives early in the morning, and overtaking many put them to death. The protestant captain Bellin, likewise, by way of retaliation, went with a body of light troops, and burnt the suburbs of La Torre, making his retreat afterwards with very little loss.

A few days after, captain Bellin, with a much stronger body of troops, attacked the town of La Torre itself, and making a breach in the wall of the convent, his men entered, driving the garrison into the citadel, and burning both town and convent. After having effected this, they made a regular re|treat, as they could not reduce the citadel for want of cannon.

An Account of the Persecutions of MICHAEL MOLINOS, a Native of Spain.

MICHAEL DE MOLINOS, a Spaniard of a rich and honourable family, entered, when young into priest's orders, but would not accept of any preferment in the church. He possessed great natural abilities, which he dedicated to the service of his fellow-creatures, without any view of emo|lument to himself. His course of life was pious and uniform; nor did he exercise those austerities which are comm•••• among the religious orders of the church of 〈◊〉〈◊〉

BEING of a contemplative turn of mind, he pur|sued the track of the mystical divines, and having acquired great reputation in Spain, and being desi|rous of propagating his sublime mode of devotion, he left his own country, and settled at Rome. Here he soon connected himself with some of the most distinguished among the literati, who so approved of his religious maxims, that they concurred in as|sisting him to propagate them; and, in a short time, he obtained a great number of followers, who, from the sublime mode of their religion, were distinguish|ed by the name of Quietists.

IN 1675 Molinos published a book, entitled, Il Guida Spirituale, to which were subjoined recom|mendatory letters from several great personages. One of these was by the archbishop of Reggio; a second by the general of the Franciscans; and a third by father Martin de Esparsa, a jesuit, who had been divinity-professor both at Salamanca and Rome.

NO sooner was the book published, than it was greatly read, and highly esteemed, both in Italy and Spain; and this so raised the reputation of the au|thor, that his acquaintance was coveted by the most respectable characters. Letters were written to him from numbers of people, so that a correspondence was settled between him, and those who approved of his method, in different parts of Europe. Some secular priests, both at Rome and Naples, declared themselves openly for it, and consulted him, as a sort of or••cle, on many occasions. But those who attached themselves to him with the greatest since|rity, were some of the fathers of the Oratory; in particular three of the most eminent, namely, Colo|redi, Ciceri, and Petrucci. Many of the cardinals also courted his acquaintance, and thought them|selves happy in being reckoned among the number of his friends. The most distinguished of them was the cardinal 〈◊〉〈◊〉, a man of very great learning, who so highly approved of Molinos's maxims, that he entered into a close connection with him. They conversed ••ogether daily, and notwithstanding the distrust a Spaniar•• has natur|ally of a Frenchman, yet Molino••, who was sincer•• in his principles, opened his mind without reserve to the cardinal; and by this means a correspon|dence

was settled between Molinos and some distin|guished characters in France.

WHILST Molinos was thus labouring to propa|gate his religious mode, father Petrucci wrote seve|ral letters and treatises relative to a contemplative life; but he mixed in them so many rules for the devotions of the Romish church, as mitigated that censure he might have otherwise incurred. They were written chiefly for the use of the nuns, and therefore the sense was expressed in the most easy and familiar stile.

MOLINOS had now acquired such reputation, that the Jesuits and Dominicans began to be great|ly alarmed, and determined to put a stop to the progress of this new method. To do this it was necessary to decry the author of it; and as heresy is an imputation that makes the strongest impres|sion at Rome, Molinos and his followers were given out to be heretics. Books were also written by some of the Jesuits against Molinos and his me|thod: but they were all answered with great spirit by Molinos.

THESE disputes occasioned such a disturbance in Rome, that the whole affair was taken notice of by the inquisition. Molinos and his book, and father Petrucci, with his treatises and letters, were brought under a severe examination; and the Jesuits were considered as the accusers. One of the society had, indeed, approved of Molinos's book; but the rest took care he should not be again seen at Rome. In the course of the examination both Molinos and Petrucci acquitted themselves so well, that their books were again approved, and the answers which the Jesuits had written were censured as scan|dalous.

PETRUCCI'S conduct on this occasion was so high|ly approved, that it not only raised the credit of the cause, but his own emolument; for he was soon after made bishop of Jesis, which was a new decla|ration made by the pope in their favour. Their books were now esteemed more than ever, their method was more followed, and the novelty of it, with the new approbation given after so vigorous •••• accusation by the Jesuits, all contributed to raise the ••redit, and increase the number of the party.

THE behaviour of father Petrucci in his new dignity contributed to increase his reputation, so that his enemies were unwilling to give him any further disturbance; and, indeed, there was less oc|casion given for censure by his writings than those of Molinos. Some passages in the latter were not so cautiously expressed, but there was room to make exceptions to them; while, on the other hand, Pe|trucci so fully explained himself, as easily to remove the objections made to some parts of his letter.

THE great reputation acquired by Molinos and Petrucci, occasioned a daily increase of the quietists. All who were thought sincerely devout, or at least affected the reputation of it, were reckoned among the number. If these persons were observed to be|come more strict in their lives and mental devotions, yet there appeared less zeal in their whole deport|ment as to the exterior parts of the church cere|monies. They were not so assiduous at mass, nor so earnest to procure masses to be said for their friends; nor were they so frequently either at con|fession, or in processions.

THOUGH the new approbation given to Moli|nos's book by the inquisition had checked the pro|ceedings of his enemies; yet they were still invete|rate against him in their hearts, and determined if possible to ruin him. They insinuated that he had ill designs, and was, in his heart, an enemy to the Christian religion: that under pretence of raising men to a sublime strain of devotion, he intended to erase from their minds a sense of the mysteries of Christianity. And because he was a ••paniard, they gave out that he was descended from a Jewish, or Mahometan race, and that he might carry in his blood, or in his first education, some seeds of those religions which he had since cultivated with no less art than zeal. This last calumny gained but little credit at Rome, though it was said an order was sent to examine the registers of the place where Molinos was baptized.

MOLINOS finding himself attacked with great vi|gour, and the most unrelenting malice, took every necessary precaution to prevent these imputation being credited. He wrote a treatise intitled, Fre|quent and Daily Communion, which was likewise approved by some of the most learned of the Ro|mish

clergy. This was printed with his Spiritual Guide, in the year 1675; and in the preface to it he declared, that he had not written it with any de|sign to engage himself in matters of controversy, but that it was drawn from him by the earnest soli|citations of many pious people.

THE Jesuits ••ailing in their attempts of crushing Molinos's power in Rome, applied to the court of France, when, in a short time, they so far succeed|ed, that an order was sent to cardinal d'Estrees, com|manding him to prosecute Molinos with all possible rigour. The cardinal, though so strongly attached to Molinos, resolved to sacrifice all that is sacred in friendship to the will of his master. Finding, how|ever, there was not sufficient matter for an accusa|tion against him, he determined to supply that de|fect himself. He therefore went to the inquisitors, and informed them of several particulars, not only relative to Molinos, but also Petrucci, both of whom, together with several of their friends, were put into the inquisition.

WHEN they were brought before the inquisitors, (which was in the beginning of the year 1684) Petrucci answered the respective questions put to him with so much judgment and temper, that he was soon dismissed; and though Molinos's exami|nation was much longer, it was generally expected he would have been likewise discharged: but this was not the c••se. Though the inquisitors had not any just accusation against him, yet they strained every nerve to find him guilty of heresy. They first objected to his holding a correspondence in different parts of Europe; but of this he was ac|q••itted, as the matter of this correspondence could not be made criminal. They then directed their attention to some suspicious papers found in his chambe••; but Molinos so clearly explained their meaning, that nothing could be made of them to his pre••••••••ce. At length, cardinal d'Estrees, after producing the order sent him by the king of France for pro••ecuting Molinos, said, he could prove a|gainst him more than was necessary to convince them he wa•• guilty of heresy. To do this he per|verted the meaning of some passages in Molinos's books and papers, and related many false and ag|gravating circumstances relative to the prisoner. He acknowledged he had lived with him under the appearance of friendship, but that it was only to discover his principles and intentions: that he had found them to be of a bad nature, and that dan|gerous consequence were likely to ensue; but in order to make a full discovery, he had assented to several things, which, in his heart, he detested; and that, by these means, he saw into the secrets of Mo|linos; but determined not to take any notice, till a proper opportunity should offer of crushing him and his followers.

IN consequence of d'Estree's evidence, Molinos was closely confined in the inquisition, where he continued for some time, during which period all was quiet, and his followers prosecuted their mode without interruption. But on a sudden the Jesuits determined to extirpate them, and the storm broke out with the most inveterate vehemence.

THE count Vespiniani and his lady, Don Paulo Rocchi, confessor to the prince Borghese, and some of his family, with several others, (in all seventy persons) were put into the inquisition, among whom many were highly esteemed both for their learning and piety. The accusation laid against the clergy was their neglecting to say the breviary; and the rest were accused of going to communion without first attending confession. In a word, it was said, they neglected all the exterior parts of religion, and gave themselves up wholly to solitude and in|ward prayer.

THE countess Vespiniani exerted herself in a very particular manner on her examination before the inquisitors. She said, she had never revealed her method of devotion to any mortal but her confes|sor, and that it was impossible they should know it without his discovering the secret; that, therefore, it was time to give over going to confession, if priests made this use of it, to discover the most se|cret thoughts entrusted to them; and that, for the future, she would only make her confession to God.

FROM this spirited spee••h, and the great noise made in conseq••ence of the countess's situation, the inquisitors thought it most prudent to dismiss both

her and her husband, left the people might be in|censed, and what she said might lessen the credit of confession. They were, therefore, both discharged, but bound to appear whenever they should be call|ed upon.

BESIDES those already mentioned, such was the inveteracy of the Jesuits against the Quietists, that within the space of a month upwards of two hun|dred persons were put into the inquisition; and that method of devotion which had passed in Italy as the most elevated to which mortals could aspire, was deemed heretical, and the chief promoters of it confined in a wretched dungeon.

IN order, if possible, to extirpate quietism, the inquisitors sent a circular letter to cardinal Cibo, as the chief minister, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 disperse it through Italy. It was addressed to all prelates, informing them, that whereas many schools and fraternities were estab|lished in several parts of Italy, in which some per|sons, under a pre••ence of leading people into the ways of the spirit, and to the prayer of quietness, instilled into them many abominable heresies, there|fore a strict charge was given to dissolve all those societies, and to oblige the spiritual guide to tread in the known paths; and, in particular, to take care none of that fort should be suffered to have the di|rection of nunneries. Orders were likewise given to proceed, in the way of justice, against those who should be found guilty of these abominable er|rors.

AFTER this a strict inquiry was made into all the nunneries in Rome; when most of their directors and confessors were discovered to be engaged in this new method. It was found that the Carmelites, the nuns of the Conception, and those of several other convents, were wholly given up to prayer and contemplation: and that, instead of their beads, and other devotions to saints, or images, they were much alone, and often in the exercise of mental prayer: that when they were asked, why they had laid aside the use of their beads, and their ancient forms, their answer was, their directors had advised them so ••o do. Information of this being given 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the inquisition, they sent orders that all books writ|ten in the same strain with those of Molinos and Petrucci, should be taken from them, and that they should be compelled to return to their original form of devotion.

THE circular letter sent to cardinal Cibe produ|ced but little effect, for most of the Italian bishops were inclined to Molinos's method. It was inten|ded that this, as well as all other orders from the inquisitors, should be kept secret; but notwith|standing all their care, copies of it were printed, and dispersed in most of the principal towns in Italy. This gave great uneasiness to the inquisitors, who use every method they can to conceal their pro|ceedings from the knowledge of the world. They blamed the cardinal, and accused him of being the cause of it; but he retorted on them, and his se|cretary laid the fault on both.

DURING these transactions, Molinos suffered great indignities from the officers of the inquisition; and the only comfort he received was, from being some|times visited by father Petrucci.

THOUGH he had lived in the highest reputation in Rome for some years, he was now as much de|spised as he had been admired, being generally con|sidered as one of the worst of heretics.

THE greater part of Molinos's followers, who had been placed in the inquisition, having abjured his mode, were dismissed; but a harder fate await|ed Molinos, their leader.

AFTER laying a considerable time in prison, he was at length brought before the inquisitors, to an|swer to a number of articles exhibited against him from his writings. As soon as he appeared in court, a chain was put round his body, and a wax-light in his hand, when two friars read aloud the articles of accusation. Molinos answered each with great steadiness and resolution; and notwithstand|ing his arguments totally defeated the force of all, yet he was found guilty of heresy, and condemned to imprisonment for life.

WHEN he left the c••urt he was attended by a pr••••st, who had borne him the greatest respect. On his ••••••ival to the prison he entered the cell allotted for his confin••ment with great tranquillity; and on taking leave of the priest, thus addressed him:—

Adieu, father, we shall meet again at the day of judgment, and then it will appear on which side the truth is, whether on my side, or on your's.

DURING his confinement he was several times tortured in the most cruel manner, till, at length, the severity of the punishments overpowered his strength, and finished his existence.

THE death of Molinos struck such an impression on his followers, that the greater part of them soon abjured his mode; and by the assiduity of the Je|suits, quietism was totally extirpated throughout the country.

An Account of the Persecutions in BOHEMIA under the PAPACY.

THE Roman pontiffs having usurped a power over several churches, were particularly se|vere on the Bohemians, which occasioned them to send two ministers, and four lay-brothers to Rome, in the year 977, to obtain redress of the pope. After some delay their request was granted, and their grievances redressed. Two things in particu|lar they were permitted to do, viz. to have divine service performed in their own language, and to give the cup to the laity in the sacrament.

THE disputes however soon broke out again, the succeeding popes exerting their whole power to im|pose on the minds of the Bohemians; and the latter, with great spirit, aiming to preserve their religious liberties.

A. D. 1375, some zealous friends of the gospel applied to Charles, king of Bohemia, to call an oeconomical council, for an inquiry into the abuses that had crept into the church, and to make a full and thorough reformation. The king, not know|ing how to proceed, sent to the pope for directions how to act; but the pontiff was so incensed at the affair, that his only reply was, Severely punish those rash and profane heretics. The monarch, accord|ingly banished every one who had been concerned in the application, and to oblige the pope, laid a great number of additional restraints upon the religious liberties of the people.

JOHN HUSS, and Jerom of Prague, two holy and pious men, being condemned by order of the coun|cil of Constance, fifty-eight of the principal Bohemi|an nobility interposed in their favour. Nevertheless they were cruelly burnt, and the pope, in conjuncti|on w••th the council of Constance ordered the Romish clergy, every where, to excommunicate such as a|dopted their opinions, or commiserated their fate.

THESE orders occasioned great contentions be|tween the papist, and reformed Bohemians, which was the cause of a violent persecution against the lat|ter. At Prague the persecution was extremely severe, till, at length, the reformed being driven to despe|ration, attacked the senate-house, and threw twelve senators, with the speaker, out of the senate-house windows, whose bodies fell upon spears, which were held up by others of the reformed in the street, to recieve them.

BEING inforned of these proceedings, the pope came to Florence, and publicly excommunicated the reformed Bohemians, exciting the emperor of Ger|many, and all kings, princes, dukes, &c. to take up arms, in order to extirpate the whole race; and pro|mising, by way of encouragement, full remission of all sins whatever to the most wicked person, if he did but kill one Bohemian protestant.

THIS occasioned a bloody war; for several po|pish princes undertook the extirpation, or at least expulsion, of the proscribed people; and the Bohe|mians, arming themselves, prepared to repel force by force, in the most vigorous and effectual manner. The popish army prevailing against the protestant forces at the battle of Cuttenburgh, the prisoners of the reformed were taken to three deep mines near that town, and several hundreds were cruelly thrown into each, where they miserably perished.

A merchant of Prague, going to Breslaw, in Si|lesia, happened to lodge in the same inn with seve|ral priests. Entering into conversation upon the subject of religious controversy, he passed many encomiums upon the martyred John Huss, and his

doctrines. The priests taking umbrage at this, laid an information against him the next morning, and he was committed to prison as an heretic. Ma|ny endeavours were used to persuade him to em|brace the Roman catholic faith; but he remained stedfast to the pure doctrines of the reformed church. Soon after his imprisonment, a student of the uni|versity was committed to the same gaol; when, be|ing permitted to converse with the merchant, they mutually comforted each other. On the day ap|pointed for execution, when the gaoler began to fasten the ropes to their feet, by which they were to be dragged through the streets, the student ap|peared to be quite terrified, and offered to abjure his faith, and turn Roman catholic if he might be saved. The offer was accepted, his abjuration was taken by a priest, and he was set at liberty. A priest applying to the merchant to follow the exam|ple of the student, he nobly said, "Lose no time in hopes of my recantation, your expectations will be vain; I sincerely pity that poor wretch, who has miserably sacrificed his soul for a few more uncer|tain years of a troublesome life; and, so far from having the least idea of following his example, I glory in the very thoughts of dying for the sake of Christ." On hearing these words, the priest order|ed the executioner to proceed; and the merchant being drawn through the city, was brought to the place of execution, and there burnt.

P••CHEL, a bigoted popish magistrate, apprehend|ed 24 protestants, among whom was his daughter's husband. As they all owned they were of the reformed religion, he indiscriminately condemned them to be drowned in the river Abbis. On the day appointed for the execution, a great concourse of people attended, among whom was Pichel's daughter. This worthy wife threw herself at her father's feet, bedewed them with tears, and in the most pathetic manner, implored him to commiserate her sorrow, and pardon her husband. The obdu|rate magistrate sternly replied, "Intercede not for him, child, he is a heretic, a vile heretic." To which she nobly answered, "Whatever his faults may be, or however his opinions may differ from your's, he is still my husband, 〈…〉〈…〉 which, at a time like this, should 〈…〉〈…〉 my whole con|sideration. Pichel s••ew into 〈…〉〈…〉 passion, and said, "You are ma•••• cannot you after the death of this, have a much worthier husband?" No, sir, (replied she) my affections are fixed upon this, and death itself shall not dissolve my marriage vow. Pichel, however, continued inflexible, and ordered the prisoners to be tied with their hands and feet behind them, and in that manner to be thrown into the river. As soon as this was put into execution, the young lady watched her opportunity, leaped into the waves, and embracing the body of her husband, both sunk together into one watery grave. An uncommon instance of conjugal love in a wife, and of an inviolable attachment to, and personal affection for, her husband.

THE emperor Ferdinand, whose hatred to the Bohemian protestants was without bounds, not thinking he had sufficiently oppressed them, insti|tuted a high court of reformers, upon the plan of the inquisition, with this difference, that the re|formers were to remove from place to place, and always be attended by a body of troops.

THESE reformers consisted chiefly of Jesuits, and from their decisions there was no appeal, by which it may be easily conjectured, that it was a dreadful tribunal indeed.

THIS bloody court, attended by a body of troops, made the tour of Bohemia, in which they seldom examined or saw a prisoner, suffering the soldiers to murder the protestants as they pleased, and then to make a report of the matter to them afterwards.

THE first victim of their cruelty was an aged mi|nister, whom they killed as he lay sick in bed; the next day they robbed and murdered another, and soon after shot a third, as he was preaching in his pulpit.

A nobleman and a clergyman, who resided in a protestant village, hearing of the approach of the high court of reformers and the troops, fled from the place, and secreted themselves. The sol|diers, however, on their arrival, seized upon a school-master, and asked him where the lord of that place and the minister were concealed, and where they had hid their treasures. The school-master replied he could not answer either of the questions. They then stripped him naked, bound him with

cords, and beat him most unmercifully with cud|gels. This cruelty not extorting any confession from him, they scorched him in various parts of the body; when, to gain a respite from his tor|ments, he promised to shew them where the trea|sures were hid. The soldiers gave ear to this with pleasure, and the school-master led them to a ditch full of stones, saying, Beneath those stones are the riches ye seek for. Eager after money, they went to work, and soon removed those stones, but not finding what they fought after, beat the school-master to death, buried him in the ditch, and co|vered him with the very stones he had made them remove.

SOME of the soldiers ravished the daughters of a worthy protestant before his face, and then tortured him to death. A minister and his wife they tied back to back, and burnt. Another minister they hung upon a cross beam, and making a fire under him, broiled him to death. A gentleman they hacked into small pieces; and they filled a young man's mouth with gunpowder, and setting fire ••o it, blew his head to pieces.

AS their principal rage was directed against the clergy, they took a pious protestant minister, and tormented him daily for a month together, in the following manner, making their cruelty regular, systematic, and progressive.

1. THEY placed him amidst them, and made him the subject of their derision and mockery, during a whole day's entertainment, trying to exhaust his p••tience, but in vain, for he bore the whole with a true christian fortitude.

2. THEY spit in his face, pulled his nose, and pinched him in most parts of his body.

3. HE was hunted like a wild beast, till ready to expire with fatigue.

4. THEY made him run the gantlope between two ranks of them, each striking him with a twig.

5. HE was beat with their fists.

6. HE was beat with ropes.

7. THEY scourged him with wires.

8. HE was beat with cudgels.

9. THEY tied him up by the heels with his head downwards, till the blood started out of his nose, mouth, &c.

10. THEY hung him up by the right arm till it was dislocated, and then had it set again.

11. THE same was repeated with his left arm.

12. BURNING papers, dipped in oil, were placed between his fingers and toes.

13. HIS flesh was torn with red hot pincers.

14. HE was put to the rack.

15. THEY pulled off the nails of his right hand.

16. THE same repeated with his left hand.

17. HE was bastinadoed on his feet.

18. A slit was made in his right ear.

19. THE same repeated on his left ear.

20. HIS nose was slit.

21. THEY whipped him through the town upon an ass.

22. THEY made several incisions in his flesh.

23. THEY pulled off the toe nails of his right foot.

24. THE same repeated with his left foot.

25. HE was tied up by the loins, and suspended for a considerable time.

26. THE teeth of his upper jaw were pulled out.

27. THE same was repeated with his lower jaw.

28. BOILING lead was poured upon his fingers.

29. THE same repeated with his toes.

30. A knotted cord was twisted about his fore|head in such a manner, as to force out his eyes.

DURING the whole of these horrid cruelties, par|ticular care was taken that his wounds should not mortify, and not to injure him mortally till the last day, when the forcing out of his eyes proved his death.

INNUMERABLE were the other murders and de|predations committed by those unfeeling brutes, and shocking to humanity were the cruelties which they inflicted on the poor Bohemian protestants. The winter being far advanced, however, the high court of reformers, with their infernal band of mi|litary ruffians, thought proper to return to Prague; but on their way meeting with a protestant pastor, they could not resist the temptation of feasting their barbarous eyes with a new kind of cruelty, which had just suggested itself to the diabolical imagina|tion of one of the soldiers. This was to strip the minister naked, and alternately to cover him with ice and burning coals. This novel mode of tor|menting a fellow-creature was immediately put in practice, and the unhappy victim expired beneath the torments, which seemed to delight his inhuman persecutors.

A secret order was soon after issued by the em|peror, for apprehending all noblemen and gentle|men, who had been principally concerned in sup|porting the protestant cause, and in nominating Frederic, elector Palatine of the Rhine, to be king of Bohemia. These, to the number of fifty, were apprehended in one night, and at one hour, and brought from the places where they were taken, to the castle of Prague, and the estates of those who were absent from the kingdom were confiscated, themselves were made outlaws, and their names f••••ed upon a gallows, as marks of public igno|miny.

THE high court of reformers then proceeded to try the fifty, who had been apprehended, and two apostate protestants were appointed to examine them. These examinants asked a great number of unnecessary and impertinent questions, which so exasperated one of the noblemen, who was naturally of a warm temper, that he exclaimed, opening his breast at the same time, "Cut here, search my heart, you shall find nothing but love of religion and liberty: those were the motives for which I drew my sword, and for those I am willing to suffer death."

AS none of the prisoners would change their re|ligion, o•• acknowledge they had been in an error, they were all pronounced guilty; but the sentence was referred to the emperor. When that monarch had read their names, and an account of the respec|tive accusations against them, he passed judgment upon all, but in a different manner, as his sentences were of four kinds, viz. death, banishment, impri|sonment for life, and imprisonment during plea|sure.

TWENTY being ordered for execution, were in|formed they might send for jesuits, monks, or friars, to prepare for the awful change they were to undergo; but that no protestants would be per|mitted to come near them. This proposal they rejected, and strove all they could to comfort and chear each other upon the solemn occasion.

ON the morning of the day appointed for the ex|ecution, a cannon was fired as a signal to bring the prisoners from the castle to the principal market|place, in which scaffolds were erected, and a body of troops were drawn up to attend the tragic scene.

THE prisoners left the castle with as much chear fulness as if they had been going to an agreeable entertainment, instead of a violent death.

EXCLUSIVE of soldiers, jesuits, priests, executi|oners, attendants, &c. a prodigious concourse of people attended, to see the exit of these devoted martyrs, who were executed in the following order:

I. Lord SCHILIK.

THIS nobleman was about fifty years of age, and was possessed of great natural abilities. When he was told he was to be quartered, and his parts scat|tered in different places, he smiled with great sere|nity, saying, The loss of a sepulchre is but a trifling consideration. A gentleman who stood by, crying.

Courage, my lord: he replied, I have God's fa|vour, which is sufficient to inspire any one with courage: the fear of death does not trouble me; formerly I have faced him in fields of battle to op|pose Anti-christ; and now dare face him on a scaffold, for the sake of Christ. Having said a short prayer, he told the executioner he was ready, who cut off his right hand and his head, and then quartered him. His hand and head were placed upon the high tower of Prague, and his quarters distributed in different parts of the city.

II. Lord Viscount WINCESLAUS.

THIS venerable nobleman, who had attained the age of seventy years, was equally respectable for learning, piety, and hospitality. His temper was so remarkably patient, that when his house was broke open, his property seized, and his estates confiscated, he only said, with great composure, The Lord hath given, and the Lord hath taken away. Being asked why he could engage in so dangerous a cause as that of attempting to support the elector Palatine Frederic, against the power of the emperor, he replied, I acted strictly according to the dictates of my conscience, and, to this day, deem him my king. I am now full of years, and wish to lay down life, that I may not be a witness of the farther evils which are to attend my country. You have long thirsted for my blood, take it, for God will be my avenger. Then approaching the block, he stroked his long grey beard, and said, Venerable hairs, the greater honour now attends ye, a crown of martyrdom is your portion. Then lay|ing down his head, it was severed from his body at one stroke, and placed upon a pole in a conspicuous part of the city.

III. Lord HARANT.

LORD HARANT was a man of good sense, great piety, and much experience gained by travel, as he had visited the principal places in Europe, Asia, and Africa. Hence he was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 from national preju|dices, and had collected much knowledge.

THE accusations against this nobleman were, hi•• being a protestant, and having ••aken an oath of al|legiance to Frederic, elector Palatine of the Rhine, as king of Bohemia. When he came upon the scaffold, he said, "I have travelled through many countries, and traversed various barbarous nations, yet never found so much cruelty as at home. I have escaped innumerable perils by sea and land, and surmounted inconceivable difficulties, to suffer innocently in my native place. My blood is likewise sought by those for whom I, and my forefathers, have hazarded our lives and estates; but, Almighty God! forgive them, for they know not what they do." He then went to the block, kneeled down, and exclaimed, with great energy, Into thy hands, O Lord! I commend my spirit; in thee have I always trusted; receive me, therefore, my blessed Redeemer. The fatal stroke was then given, and a period put to the temporary pains of this life.

IV. Lord FREDERIC DE BILE.

THIS nobleman suffered as a protestant, and a promoter of the late war: he met his fate with serenity, and only said, he wished well to the friends whom he left behind, forgave the enemies who caused his death, denied the authority of the em|peror in that country, acknowledged Frederic to be the only true king of Bohemia, and hoped for salvation in the merits of his blessed Redeemer.

V. Lord HENRY OTTO.

WHEN lord Otto first came upon the scaffold, he seemed greatly confounded, and said, with some asperity, as if addressing himself to the emperor, "Thou tyrant Ferdinand, your throne is establish|ed in blood; but if you kill my body, and disperse my members, yet they shall still rise up in judge|ment against you." He then was silent, and having walked about for some time, seemed to recover his fortitude, and growing calm, said to a gentleman who stood near, I was, a few minutes since, greatly discomposed, but now I feel my spirits revive; God be praised for affording me such comfort; death no longer appears as the king of terrors, but seems to invite me to participate of some unknown joys. Kneeling before the block, he said, Almigh|ty God! to thee I commend my soul, receive it for the sake of Christ, and admit it to the glory of thy presence. The executioner put this nobleman to

considerable pain, by making several strokes before he severed the head from the body.

VI. The Earl of RUGENIA.

SUPERIOR abilities, and unaffected piety, distin|guished this nobleman. On the scaffold he said, "We who drew our swords, fought only to pre|serve the liberties of the people, and to keep our consciences sacred: as we were overcome, I am better pleased at the sentence of death than if the emperor had given me life; for I find that it plea|ses God to have his truth defended, not by our swords, but by our blood." He then went boldly to the block, saying, I shall now be speedily with Christ, and received the crown of martyrdom with great courage.

VII. Sir GASPER KAPLITZ.

THIS gentleman was 86 years of age. When he came to the place of execution, he addressed the principal officer thus: behold a miserable ancient man, who hath often intreated God to take him out of this wicked world, but could not till now obtain his desire; for God reserved me till these years to be a spectacle to the world, and a sacrifice to himself: therefore God's will be done." One of the officers told him, in consideration of his great age, that if he would only ask pardon, he would immediately re••eive it. "Ask pardon! ex|claimed he, I will ask pardon of God whom I have frequently offended; but not of the emperor to whom I never gave any offence: should I sue for pardon, it might justly be suspected I had commit|ted some crime for which I deserved this condem|nation. No, no, as I die innocent, and with a clear conscience, I would not be separated from this no|ble company of martyrs:" so saying, he chearfully resigned his neck to the block.

VIII. PROCOPIUS DORZECKI.

THIS gentleman on the scaffold said, "We are now under the emperor's judgment; but in time he shall be judged, and we shall appear as witnesses against him." Then taking a gold medal from his neck, which was struck when the elector Fre|deric was crowned king of Bohemia, he presented it to one of the officers; at the same time uttering these words, "As a dying man, I request, if ever king Frederic is restored to the throne of Bohemia, that you will give him this medal. Tell him, for his sake, I wore it till death, and that now I wil|lingly lay down my life for God and my king." He then chearfully laid down his head, and sub|mitted to the fatal blow.

IX. DIONYSIUS ZERVIUS.

THIS gentleman was brought up a Roman ca|tholic, but had embraced the reformed religion for some years. When upon the scaffold the jesuits used their utmost endeavours to make him recant, and return to his former faith, but he paid not the least attention to their exhortations. Kneeling down he said, They may destroy my body, but cannot injure my soul, that I commend to my Re|deemer: and then patiently submitted to martyr|dom, being at that time fifty-six years of age.

X. VALENTINE COCKAN.

THIS was a person of considerable fortune and eminence, perfectly pious and honest, but of trifling abilities; yet his imagination seemed to grow bright, and his faculties to improve on death's approach, as if the impending danger refined the understand|ing. Just before he was beheaded, he expressed himself with such eloquence, energy, and precision, as greatly amazed those who knew his former de|ficiency in point of capacity.

XI. TOBIAS STEFFIK.

THIS gentleman was remarkable for his affability and serenity of temper. He was perfectly resigned to his fate, and a few minutes before his death spoke in this singular manner, "I have received, during the whole course of my life, many favours from God: ought I not therefore chearfully to take one bitter cup, when he thinks proper to present it? Or rather, ought I not to rejoice, that it is his will I should give up a corrupted life for that o•• immortality?

XII. Dr. JESSENIUS.

THIS able student of physic was accused of ha|ving spoken disrespectful words of the emperor, of

treason in swearing allegiance to the elector Frede|ric, and of heresy in being a protestant: for the first accusation he had his tongue cut out; for the second he was beheaded; and for the third, and last, he was quartered, and the respective parts ex|posed on poles.

XIII. CHRISTOPHER CHOBER.

THIS gentleman, as soon as he stepped upon the scaffold, said, "I come in the name of God, to die for his glory; I have fought the good fight, and finished my course; so, executioner, do your office." The executioner obeyed, and he instantly received the crown of martyrdom.

XIV. JOHN SHULTIS.

NO person ever lived more respected, or died more lamented, than this gentleman. The only words he spoke, before receiving the fatal stroke, were, "The righteous seem to die in the eyes of fools, but they only go to rest. Lord Jesus! thou hast promised that those that come to thee shall not be cast off. Behold, I am come; look on me, pity me, pardon my sins, and receive my soul."

XV. MAXIMILIAN HOSTIALICK.

THIS gentleman was famed for his learning, piety, and humanity. When he first came on the scaffold, he seemed exceedingly terrified at the ap|proach of death. The officer taking notice of his agitation, he said, "Ah! sir, now the sins of my youth crowd upon my mind; but I hope God will enlighten me, lest I sleep the sleep of death, and lest mine enemies say, we have prevailed." Soon after he said, "I hope my repentance is sincere, and will be accepted, in which case the blood of Christ will wash me from my crimes. He then told the officer he should repeat the song of Simeon; at the conclusion of which the executioner might do his duty. He, accordingly, said, Lord! now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation▪ at which words his head was struck off at one blow.

XVI. JOHN KUTNAUR.

WHEN this gentleman came to the place of ex|ecution, a jesuit said to him, "Embrace the Ro|man catholic faith, which alone can save and arm you against the terrors of death." To which he replied, "Your superstitious faith I abhor, it leads to perdition, and I wish for no other arms against the terrors of death, than a good conscience." The jesuit turned away, saying, sarcastically, The pro|testants are impenetrable rocks. You are mista|ken, said Kutnaur, it is Christ that is the rock, and we are firmly fixed upon him.

THIS person not being born independent, but having acquired a fortune by a mechanical employ|ment, was ordered to be hanged. Just before he was turned off, he said, "I die, not for having committed any crime, but for following the dic|tates of my conscience, and defending my country and religion."

XVII. SIMEON SUSSICKEY.

SUSSICKEY was father-in-law to Kutnaur, and, like him, was ordered ••o be executed on a gal|lows. He went chearfully to death, and appeared impatient to be executed, saying, "Every mo|ment delays me from entering into the kingdom of Christ."

XVIII. NATHANIEL WODNIANSKEY.

THIS person was hanged for having supported the protestant cause, and the election of Frederick to the crown of Bohemia. At the gallows, the jesuits did all in their power to induce him to re|nounce his faith. Finding their endeavours inef|fectual, one of them said, If you will not abjure your heresy, at least repent of your rebellion? To which Wodnianskey replied, "You take away our lives under a pretended charge of rebellion; and, not content with that, seek to destroy our souls: glut yourselves with blood, and be satisfied, but tamper not with our consciences."

WODNIANSKEY'S own son then appro••••hed the gall••ws, and said to his father, "Sir, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 life should be offered to you on condition of apostacy, I intreat

you to remember Christ, and reject such pernicious overtures." To this the father replied, "It is very acceptable, my son, to be exhorted to con|stancy by you; but suspect me not; rather e••••••••••vour to confirm in their faith, your ••rothers, sisters, and children, and teach them to imitate that con|stancy, of which I shall leave them an example." He had no sooner concluded these words, than he was turned off, receiving the crown of martyrdom with great fortitude.

XIX. WENCESLAUS GISBITZKEY.

THIS person, during his whole confinement, had great hopes of life given him, which made his friends fear for the safety of his soul. He, how|ever, continued stedfast in his faith, prayed fer|vently at the gallows, and met his fate with singu|lar resignation.

XX. MARTIN FOSTER.

THIS was an ancient cripple; the accusations against whom were, being charitable to heretics, and lending money to the elector Frederic. His great wealth, however, seems to have been his principal crime; and that he might be plundered of his treasures, was the occasion of his being ranked in this illustrious list of martyrs.

General Persecutions in GERMANY.

THE general persecutions in Germany were principally occasioned by the doctrines and ministry of Martin Luther. Indeed, the pope was so terrified at the success of that courageous refor|mer, that he determined to engage the emperor, Charles the Fifth, at any rate, in the scheme to at|tempt their extirpation.

TO this end;

1. HE gave the emperor two hundred thousand crowns in ready money.

2. HE promised to maintain twelve thousand foot. and five thousand horse, for the space of six months, or during a campaign.

3. HE allowed the emperor to receive one half of the revenues of the clergy of the empire, during the war.

4. HE permitted the emperor to pledge the ab|bey-lands for five hundred thousand crowns, to assist in carrying on hostilities against the protestants.

THUS prompted and supported, the emperor un|dertook the extirpation of the protestants, against whom, indeed, he was particularly enraged him|self; and, for this purpose, a formidable army was raised in Germany, Spain, and Italy.

THE protestant princes, in the mean time, fo••••|ed a powerful confederacy, in order to repel the impending blow. A great army was raised, an•• the command given to the elector of Saxony, and the landgrave of Hesse. The ••mper•••••• forces were commanded by the emperor of Germany i•• person, and the eyes of all Europe were turned on the event of the war.

AT length the armies met, and a desperate en|gagement ensued, in which the protestants were de|feated, and the elector of Saxony, and landgrave of Hesse, both taken prisoners. This fatal blow was succeeded by a horrid persecution, the severi|ties of which were such, that exile might be deem|ed a mild fate, and concealment in a dismal wood, pass for happiness. In such times a cave is a palace, a rock a bed of down, and wild roots delicacies.

THOSE who were taken experienced the most cru|el tortures that infernal imaginations could invent; and, by their constancy evinced, that a real christian can surmount every difficulty, and despise every danger, to acquire a crown of martyrdom.

HENRY VOES and John Esch, being apprehend|ed as protestants, were brought to examination: when Voes, answering for himself and the other, gave the following answers to some questions asked by a priest, who examined them by order of the magistracy.

Priest.]

WERE you not both, some years ago, Augustine friars?

Voes.]

YES.

Priest.]

HOW came you to quit the bosom of the church of Rome?

Voes.]

ON account of her abominations.

Priest.]

IN what do you believe?

Voes.]

IN the Old and New Testament.

Priest.]

DO you believe in the writings of the fathers, and the decrees of the councils?

Voes.]

YES, if they agree with scripture.

Priest.]

DID not Martin Luther seduce you both?

Voes.]

HE seduced us even in the very same manner as Christ seduced the apostles; that is, he made us sensible of the frailty of our bodies, and the value of our souls.

THIS examination was sufficient; they were both condemned to the flames, and, soon after, suffered with that manly fortitude which becomes christians, when they receive a crown of martyrdom.

HENRY SUTPHEN, an eloquent and pious preach|er, was taken out of his bed in the middle of the night, and compelled to walk barefoot a considera|ble way, so that his feet were terribly cut. He desired a horse, but his conductors said, in derision, A horse for an heretic; no, no, heretics may go barefoot. When he arrived at the place of his destination, he was condemned to be burnt; but, during the execution, many indignities were offer|ed him, as those who attended, not content with what he suffered in the flames, cut and slashed him in a most terrible manner.

MANY were murdered at Halle; Middleburg being taken by storm, all the protestants were put to the sword, and great numbers were burned at Vienna.

AN officer being sent to put a minister to death, pretended, wh••n he came to the clergyman's house, that his intentions were only to pay him a visit. The minister, not suspecting the intended cruelty, entertained his supposed guest in a very cordial manner. As soon as dinner was over, the officer said to some of his attendants, "Take this clergy|man, and hang him." The attendants themselves were so shocked, after the civility they had seen, that they hesitated to perform the commands of their master; and the minister said, "Think what a sting will remain on your conscience, for thus violating the laws of hospitality." The officer, however, insisted on being obeyed, and the attend|ants, with reluctance, performed the execrable of|fice of executioners.

PETER SPENGLER, a pious divine, of the town of Chalet, was thrown into the river, and drowned. Before he was taken to the banks of the stream, which was to become his grave, they led him to the market-place, that his crimes might be proclaimed; which were, not go|ing to mass, not making confession, and not be|lieving in transubstantiation. After this ceremony was over, he made a most excellent discourse to the people, and concluded with a kind of hymn of a very edifying nature.

A protestant gentleman being ordered to lose his head for not renouncing his religion, went chear|fully to the place of execution. A friar came to him, and said these words in a low tone of voice, "As you have a great reluctance publicly to ab|jure your faith, whisper your confession in my ear, and I will absolve your sins." To this the gentle|man loudly replied, "Trouble me not, friar, I have confessed my sins to God, and obtained abso|lution through the merits of Jesus Christ." Then turning to the executioner, he said, "Let me not be pestered with th••se men, but perform your duty." On which his head was struck off at a single blow.

WOLFGANG SOU••H, and John Huglin, two wor|thy 〈◊〉〈◊〉, were burned, as was 〈…〉〈…〉 of the university of Wertemburgh: 〈…〉〈…〉 Carpenter, a 〈◊〉〈◊〉, was hanged for refusing to 〈…〉〈…〉.

THE persecutions in Germany having subsided many years, again broke out in 1630, on account of the war between the emperor, and the king of Sweden, for the latter was a protestant prince, and consequently the protestants of Germany es|poused his cause, which greatly exasperated the emperor against them.

THE imperialists having laid siege to the town of Passewalk, (which was defended by the Swedes) took it by storm, committed the most horrid cruel|ties on the occasion. They pulled down the churches, burnt the houses, pillaged the properties, massacred the ministers, put the garrison to the sword, hanged the townsmen, ravished the women, smothered the children, &c. &c.

A most bloody tragedy was transacted at Mag|deburg, in the year 1631. The generals Tilly and Pappenheim, having taken that protestant ci|ty by storm, upwards of 20,000 persons, without distinction of rank, sex, or age, were slain during the carnage, and 6,000 were drowned in attempt|ing to escape over the river Elbe. After this fury subsided, the remaining inhabitants were stripped naked, severely scourged, had their ears cropped, and being yoked together like oxen, were turned adrift.

THE town of Hoxte•• was taken by the popish army, and all the inhabitants as well as the garrison were put to the sword; when the houses being set on fire, the bodies were consumed in the flames.

AT Griphenburg, when the imperial forces pre|vailed, they shut up the senators in the senate-cham|ber, and, surrounding it by lighted straw, suffo|cated them.

FRANH••NDAL surrendered upon articles of capi|tulation, yet the inhabitants were as cruelly used as at other places, and at Heidelburg many were shut up in prison and starved.

THE cruelties used by the imperial troops, un|der count Tilly in Saxony, are thus enumerated.

HALF strangling, and recovering the persons again repeatedly.

ROLLING sharp wheels over the fingers and toes.

PINCHING the thumbs in a vice.

FORCING the most filthy things down the throat, by which many were choaked.

TYING cords round the head so tight that the blood gushed out of the eyes, nose, ears, and mouth.

FASTENING burning matches to the fingers, toes, ears, arms, legs, and even tongue.

PUTTING powder in the mouth and setting fire to it, by which the head was shattered to pieces.

TYING bags of power to all parts of the body, by which the person was blown up.

DRAWING cords backwards and forwards through the fleshy parts.

MAKING incisions with bodkins and knives in the skin.

RUNNING wires through the nose, ears, lips, &c.

HANGING protestants up by the legs, with their heads over a fire, by which they were smoak dried.

HANGING up by one arm till it was dislocated.

HANGING upon hooks by the ribs.

FORCING people to drink till they burst.

BAKING many in hot ovens.

FIXING weights to the feet, and drawing up se|veral with pullies.

HANGING, stifling, roasting, stabbing, frying, racking, ravishing, ripping open, breaking the bones, rasping off the flesh, tearing with wild horses, drowning, strangling, burning, broiling, crucifying, immuring, poisoning, cutting off tongue, nose, ear, &c. sawing off the limbs,

hacking to pieces, and drawing by the heels through the streets.

THESE enormous cruelties will be a perpetual stain on the memory of count Tilly, who not only permitted, but even commanded the troops to put them in practice. Wherever he came, the most horrid barbarities, and cruel depredations ensued: famine and conflagration marked his progress; for he destroyed all the provisions he could not take with him, and burnt all the towns before he left them; so that the full result of his conquests were murder, poverty, and desolation.

AN aged and pious divine they stripped naked, tied him on his back upon a table, and fastened a large fierce cat upon his belly. They then pricked and tormented the cat in such a manner, that the creature with rage tore his belly open, and gnawed his bowels.

ANOTHER minister, and his family, were seized by these inhuman monsters; when they ravished his wife and daughter before his face, stuck his in|fant son upon the point of a lance, and then sur|rounding him with his whole library of books, they set fire to them, and he was consumed in the midst of the flames.

IN Hesse Cassel some of the troops entered an hospital, in which were principally mad women, when stripping all the poor wretches naked, they made them run about the streets for their diversion and then put them to death.

IN Pomerania, some of the imperial troops en|tering a small town, seized upon all the young wo|men, and girls of upwards of 10 years, and then placing their parents in a circle, they ordered them to sing psalms, while they ravished their children, or else they swore they would cut them to pieces af|terwards. They then took all the married women who had young children, and threatened, if they did not consent to the gratification of their lusts, to burn their children before their faces in a large fire which they had kindled for that purpose.

A 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of count Tilly's soldiers meeting with a 〈…〉〈…〉 of merchants belonging to 〈◊〉〈◊〉, who were returning from the great market of Stras|burg, they attempted to surround them: all esca|ped, however, but ten, leaving their properties be|hind. The ten who were taken begged hard for their lives; but the soldiers murdered them, say|ing, You must die because you are heretics, and have got no money.

THE same soldiers met with two countesses, who, together with some young ladies, the daughters of one of them, were taking an airing in a landau. The soldiers spared their lives, but treated them with great indecency, and having stripped them all stark naked, bade the coachman drive on.

BY means and mediation of Great-Britain, peace was at length restored to Germany, and the protestants remained unmolested for several years, till some new disturbances broke out in the Palati|nate, which were thus occasioned:

THE great church of the Holy Ghost, at Hei|delburg, had, for many years, been shared equal|ly by the protestants and Roman catholics, in this manner: the protestants performed divine service in the nave or body of the church; and the Roman catholics celebrated mass in the choir. Though this had been the custom time immemorial, the elector Palatine, at length, took it into his head not to suffer it any longer, declaring, that as Hei|delburg was the place of his residence, and the church of the Holy Ghost, the cathedral of his principal city, divine service ought to be performed only according to the rites of the church of which he was a member. He then forbad the pro••••stants to enter the church, and put the papists in possession of the whole.

THE 〈…〉〈…〉 people applied to the protestant powers for redress, which so much exasperated the elector, that he suppressed the Heidelburg cate|chism. The protestant powers, however, 〈…〉〈…〉 that

they would treat their Roman catholic subjects with the greatest severity. Many violent disputes took place between the protestant powers, and those of the elector, and these were greatly augmented by the following incident: the coach of the Dutch minister standing before the door of the resident sent by the prince of Hesse, the host was by chance carrying to a sick person; the coachman took not the least notice, which those who attended the host observing, pulled him from his box, and compelled him to kneel: this violence to the domestic of a public minister was highly resented by all the pro|testant deputies; and, still more to heighten these differences, the protestants presented to the depu|ties three additional articles of complaint.

1. THAT military executions were ordered against all protestant shoe-makers who should refuse to contribute to the masses of St. Crispin.

2. THAT the protestants were forbid to work on popish holidays, even in harvest time, under very heavy penalties, which occasioned great in|conveniences, and considerably prejudiced public business.

3. THAT several protestant ministers had been dispossessed of their churches, under pretence of their having been originally founded, and built by Roman catholics.

THE protestant deputies at length, became so serious, as to intimate to the elector, that force of arms should compel him to do the justice he deni••d to their representations. This 〈◊〉〈◊〉 brought him to reason, as he well kn••w the impossibility of carrying on a war a••ainst the powerf••l st••tes who threatened him. He, therefore, agreed, that the use of the body of the church of the Holy Ghost should be restored to the protestan••••. He restored the Heidelburg catechism, put the protestant mi••is|ters again in possession of the churches of which they had been dispossessed, all 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the protestants to work on popish holidays▪ and ordered, th•••• no person should be mol••sted for not 〈◊〉〈◊〉 when the host passed by.

THESE things he did 〈…〉〈…〉 to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his resentment to his protestant s••bjects, in other circumstances where protestant states had no right to interfere, he totally abandoned Heidelburg, re|moving all the courts of justice to Manheim, which was intirely inhabited by Roman catholics. He likewise built a new palace there, making it his place of residence; and, being followed by the Roman catholics of Heidelburg, Manheim became a flourishing place.

IN the mean time the protestants of Heidelburg sunk into poverty, and many of them became so distressed, as to quit their native country, and seek an asylum in protestant states. A great number of these coming into England, in the time of queen Anne, were cordially received here, and met with a most humane assistance, both by public and pri|vate donations.

IN 1732, above 30,000 protestants were, con|trary to the treaty of Westphalia, driven from the archbishopric of Saltzburg. They went away in the depth of winter, with scarce clothes to cover them, and without provisions, not having permis|sion to take any thing with them. The cause of these poor people not being publicly espoused by such states as could obtain them redress, they emi|grated to various protestant countries, and settled in places where they could enjoy the free exercise of their religion, without hurting their consciences, and live free from the trammels of popish supersti|tion, and the chains of papal tyranny.

An Account of the Life, Sufferings, and Mar|tyrdom of JOHN HUSS, who was burnt to Death at Constance▪ in Germany▪ for maint••••ning the Doctrines of WICK••••••••••, the English Reformist.

JOHN HUSS was born at Hussenitz, a village in Bohemia, about the year 1380. His pa|rents gave him the best education their circumstan|ces would admit: and having acquired a tolerable knowledge of the classics at a private school, he was removed to the university of Prague, where he soon gave strong proofs of his mental powers, and was remarkable for his diligence and application to study.

IN 1408, Huss commenced bachelor of divinity, and was after successively chosen pastor of the church of Bethlehem, in Prague, and dean and rector of the university. In these stations he dis|charged his duties with great fidelity, and became, at length, so conspicuous for his preaching, (which was in conformity with the doctrines of Wickliffe) that it was not likely he could long escape the no|tice of the pope, and his adherents, against whom he inveighed with no small degree of asperity.

THE English reformist Wickliffe had so kindled the light of reformation, that it began to illumine the darkest corners of popery and ignorance. His doctrines spread into Bohemia, and were well re|ceived by great numbers of people, but by none so particularly as John Huss, and his zealous friend and fellow-martyr, Jerom of Prague.

THE archbishop of Prague, finding the reform|ists daily increasing, issued a decree to suppress the farther spreading of Wickliffe's writings; but this had an effect quite different to what he expected, for it stimulated the friends of these doctrines to greater zeal, and almost the whole university united in propagating them

HUSS had considerable influence in the university, not only on account of his learning, eloquence, and exemplary life, but also on account of some valuable privileges he had obtained from the king in behalf of the Bohemians in that seminary, by which many Germans had been obliged to leave it, and retire to Leipsic, who afterwards became, on that account, his most inveterate enemies.

BEING strongly attached to the doctrines of Wick|liffe, Huss strongly opposed the decree of the arch|bishop, who, however, at length obtained a bull from the pope, giving him commission to prevent the publishing of Wickliffe's doctrines in his pro|vince. By virtue of this bull, the archbishop con|demned the writings of Wickliffe: he also proceed|ed against four doctors, who had not delivered up the copies of that divine, and prohibited them, not|withstanding their privileges, to preach to any con|gregation. Dr. Huss▪ with some other members of the university, protested against these proceed|ings, and entered an appeal from the sentences of the archbishop.

THE affair being made known to the pope, he granted a commission to cardinal Colonna, to cite John Huss to appear personally at the court of Rome, to answer the accusations laid against him, of preaching both errors and heresies. Dr. Huss desired to be excused from a personal appearance, and was so greatly favoured in Bohemia, that king Winceslaus, the queen, the nobility, and the uni|versity, desired the pope to dispense with such an appearance; as also that he would not suffer the kingdom of Bohemia to lie under the accusation of heresy, but permit them to preach the gospel with freedom, in their places of worship.

THREE proctors appeared for Dr. Huss before cardinal Colonna. They endeavoured to excuse his absence, and said, they were ready to answer in his behalf. But the cardinal declared Huss contu|macious, and excommunicated him accordingly. The proctors appealed to the pope, who appointed four cardinals to examine the process: these com|missioners confirmed the former sentence, and ex|tended the excommunication, not only to Huss, but to all his friends and followers.

FROM this unjust sentence, Huss appealed to a future council, but without success; and, notwith|standing so severe a decree, and an expulsion in consequence from his church in Prague, he retired to Hussenitz, his native place, where he continued to promulgate his new doctrine, both from the pul|pit, and with the pen.

THE letters which he wrote at this time were very numerous; and he compiled a treatise, in which he maintained, that reading the books of protestants could not be absolutely forbidden. He wrote in defence of Wickliffe's book on the Tri|nity; and boldly declared against the vices of the pope, the cardinals, and the clergy of those corrupt times. He caused a writing to be fixed on the church of Bethlehem, charging the Roman catholic clergy with the following errors:

1. OR saying that we ought to pay adoration to the pope.

2. THAT the priests can remit the pain and guilt of sin.

[figure]

The Bones of the Rev^d. JOHN WICKLIFF Min•• of Lutterworth Burnt and thrown into the River 41 Years after his Death.

The Martyrdom of M^R JOHN SCHERTER▪ who was also cruelly persecuted by the Papists.

3. THAT every one must obey his superiors, whe|ther their commands are just or unjust.

4. THAT every excommunication, just or unjust, binds the excommunicated.

HE wrote also many other books, all of which were penned with such strength of argument, as greatly to facilitate the spreading of his doctrines.

THE persecutions against the protestants in Eng|land had been carried on for some time, and the most cruel scenes were exhibited. They now ex|tended as far as Germany and Bohemia, where Dr. Huss, and Jerom of Prague, were particularly marked out to suffer death in the cause of re|ligion.

IN the month of November, in the year 1414, a general council was assembled at Constance, in Ger|many, in order, as was pretended, for the sole pur|pose of determining a dispute then depending be|tween three persons who contended for the papacy; but the real motive was, to crush the progress of the reformation.

JOHN HUSS was summoned to appear at this council; and, to encourage him, the emperor sent him a safe-conduct, giving him permission freely to come to, and return from the council. When Huss received this information, he told the persons who delivered it, "That he desired nothing more than to purge himself publicly of the imputation of he|resy; and that he esteemed himself happy in having so fair an opportunity of it, as at the council to which he was summoned to attend."

TOWARDS the latter end of November, Huss set out on his journey to Constance, accompanied by two Bohemian noblemen, who were among the most eminent of his disciples, and who followed him merely through respect and affection. He caused some placarts, or writings, to be fixed upon the gates of the churches of Prague, in which he declared, that he went to the council to answer all allegations that might be made against him. He also declared, in all the cities through which he passed, that he was going to vindicate himself at Constance, and invited all his adversaries to be pre|sent on the occasion.

THE civilities, and even reverence, which Huss met with on his journey, were beyond imagination. The streets, and sometimes the very roads, were lined with people, whom respect, rather than curio|sity, had brought together. He was ushered into the towns with great acclamations; and it may be said, that he passed through Germany in a kind of triumph. He could not help expressing his sur|prize at the treatment he received: "I thought (said he) I had been an outcast. I now see my worst friends are in Bohemia.

AS soon as Huss arrived at Constance, he imme|diately took lodgings in a remote part of the city. A short time after his arrival, came one Stephen Paletz, who was employed by the clergy at Prague to manage the intended prosecution against him. Paletz was afterwards joined by Michael de Cassis, on the part of the court of Rome. These two de|clared themselves his accusers, and drew up a set of articles against him, which they presented to the pope, and the prelates of the council.

IT has been already observed, that the attendance of Dr. Huss, at Constance, was, by the emperor's own request, who gave him a safe-conduct; not|withstanding which, according to the maxim of the council, that "Faith is not to be kept with here|tics," when it was known that he was in the city, he was immediately arrested, and committed pri|soner to a chamber in the palace.

THIS violation of common law and justice was particularly noticed by one of Huss's friends, who urged the imperial safe-conduct; but the pope re|plied, he never granted any safe conduct, nor was he bound by that of the emperor.

WHILE Huss was in confinement, the council acted the part of inquisitors. They condemned the doctrines of Wickliffe, and even ordered his remains to be dug up, and burnt to ashes; which orders were strictly complied with.

IN the mean time the nobility of Bohemia and

Poland strongly interceded for Huss; and so far pre|vailed as to prevent his being condemned unheard, which had been resolved on by the commissioners ap|pointed to try him.

WHEN he was brought before the council, the articles exhibited against him were read: they were upwards of forty in number, and chiefly extracted from his writings.

AFTER his examination, he was taken from the court and a resolution was formed by the council, to burn him as a heretic if he would not retract. He was then committed to a filthy prison, where, in the day time, he was so laden with fetters on his legs, that he could hardly move; and every night he was fastened by his hands to a ring against the walls of the prison.

AFTER continuing some days in this situation, many noblemen of Bohemia interceded in his be|half. They drew up a petition for his release, which was presented to the council by several of the most distinguished nobles of Bohemia: not|withstanding which, so many enemies had Huss in that court, that not the least attention was paid to it, and the wretched and persecuted reformer was compelled to bear with the punishment inflicted on him by that merciless tribunal.

A few days after the petition was presented, four bishops, and two lords, were sent by the emperor to the prison, in order to prevail on Huss to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a recantation. But he called God to witness, with tears in his eyes, that he was not conscious of ha|ving preached, or written, any thing against the truth of God, or the faith of his orthodox church. The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 then represented the great wisdom and authority of the council: to which Huss 〈◊〉〈◊〉, "Let them send the meanest person of that ••••uncil, who can convince me by arguments from the word of God, and I will submit my judgment to him." This christian and pious answer had no effect, because he would not take the authority and learning of the council upon trust, without the least shadow of an argument offered. The 〈…〉〈…〉, therefore, finding they could not 〈…〉〈…〉 impression on him, departed, greatly astonished 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the strength of his perseverance.

ON the fourth of July Dr. Huss was brought, for the last time, before the council. After a long examination he was desired to abjure, which he re|fused without the least hesitation. The bishop of Lodi then preached a bloody persecuting sermon, (concerning the destruction of heretics) the pro|logue to his intended punishment. After the close of the sermon his fate was determined, his vindica|tion disregarded, and judgment was pronounced. His books were condemned, and he was declared a manifest heretic: he was convicted of having taught many heresies and pernicious errors; of having despised the keys of the church and ecclesiastical censures; of having seduced and given scandal to the faithful by his obstinacy, and having rashly ap|pealed to the tribunal of Christ. The council there|fore censured him for being obstinate and incorri|gible, and ordained, "That he should be degraded from the priesthood, his books publicly burnt, and himself delivered to the secular power."

HUSS heard this sentence without the least emo|tion. At the close of it he kneeled down with his eyes lifted towards heaven, and, with all the mag|nanimity of a primitive martyr, thus exclaimed:— "May thy infinite mercy, O my God! pardon this injustice of mine enemies. Thou knowest the injustice of my accusations: how deformed with crimes I have been represented; how I have been oppressed with worthless witnesses, and a false con|demnation; yet O my God! let that mercy of thine, which no tongue can express, prevail with thee not to avenge my wrongs."

THESE excellent sentences were 〈◊〉〈◊〉 as so many expressions of treason, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 inflame his adversaries. Accordingly, the bishop•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 point|ed by the council stripped him of his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ga••|ments, degraded him, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 paper 〈◊〉〈◊〉 on his h••••d, on which was painted 〈◊〉〈◊〉, with this in|scription: "A ringleader of heretics."

OUR h••roic martyr received this 〈…〉〈…〉 with 〈…〉〈…〉 of unconcern, which seemed to give him dig|nit•• rather than 〈◊〉〈◊〉. A serenity, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 even a joy appeared in his looks, which 〈…〉〈…〉 that his soul had cut off m••••y stages of a tedious journey in 〈…〉〈…〉 to the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of everlasting peace.

AFTER the ••eremony of degradation was over, the bishops delivered Huss to the emperor, who put him into the hands of the duke of Bavaria. His books were burnt at the gates of the church; and on the 6th of July he was led to the suburbs of Constance, to be burnt alive.

ON his arrival at the place of execution, he fell on his knees, sung several portions of the Psalms, looked stedfastly towards heaven, and repeated these words: "Into thy hands, O Lord! do I commit my spirit: thou hast redeemed me, O most good and faithful God!"

WHEN the chain was put about him at the stake, he said, with a smiling countenance, "My Lord Jesus Christ was bound with a harder chain than this for my sake, and why then should I be ashamed of this old rusty one?"

WHEN the faggots were piled up to his very neck, the duke of Bavaria was so officious as to de|sire him to abjure. "No, (said Huss) I never preached any doctrine of an evil tendency; and what I taught with my lips I now seal with my blood." He then said to the executioner, "You are now going to burn a goose, (Huss signifying goose in the Bohemian language•• but in a century you will have a swan whom you can neither roast nor boil." If he was prophetic, he must have meant Martin Luther, who shone about an hundred years after, and who had a swan for his arms.

THE flames were now applied to the faggots, when our martyr sung an hymn, with so loud and chearful a voice, that he was heard through all the cracklings of the combustibles, and the noise of the multitude. At length his voice was interrupted by the flames, which soon closed his existence.

An Account of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Life, Sufferings, and Mar|tyrd••m of JEROM OF PRAGU••, who was burnt to D••a••h at Constan••e in Germany▪ for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of WICK|LI••••••▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉 English 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

JEROM 〈◊〉〈◊〉 PRAG•••• 〈…〉〈…〉 th•• companion of Dr. 〈…〉〈…〉 may be said to be co-martyr 〈…〉〈…〉 that university, where he particularly distinguished him|self for his great abilities and learning. He likewise visited several other learned seminaries in Europe, particularly the universities of Paris, Heidelburg, Cologn, and Oxford. At the latter place he be|came acquainted with the works of Wickliffe, and being a person of uncommon application, he trans|lated many of them into his native language, ha|ving, with great pains, made himself master of the English tongue.

ON his return to Prague he professed himself an open favourer of Wickliffe, and finding that his doctrines had made a considerable progress in Bo|hemia, and that Huss was the principal promoter of them, he became an assistant to him in the great work of reformation.

ON the 4th of April, 1415, Jerom arrived at Constance, about three months before the death of Huss. He entered the town privately, and con|sulting with some of the leaders of his party, whom he found there, was easily convinced he could not be of any service to his friend.

FINDING that his arrival at Constance was pub|licly known, and that the council intended to seize him, he thought it most prudent to retire. Ac|cordingly, the next day he went to Iberling, an imperial town, about a mile from Constance. From this place he wrote to the emperor, and proposed his readiness to appear before the council, if he would give him a safe conduct; but this was re|fused. He then applied to the council, but met with an answer no less unfavourable than that from the emperor.

BEING thus disappointed, Jerom caused papers to be put up in all the public places in Constance, particularly on the doors of the cardinals houses, in which he professed his readiness to appear at Con|stance in the defence of his character and doctrine, both which, he said, had been greatly defamed. He also declared, that if any error should be proved against him, he would with great readiness retract it; begging only that the faith of the council might be given for his security.

NOT receiving any answer to the papers, he set out on his return to Bohemia. He had the pre••••n|tion

to take with him a certificate, signed by seve|ral of the Behemian nobility then at Constance, testifying that he had used all prudent means in his power to procure a hearing.

JEROM, however, did not thus escape. He was seized at Hirsaw, by an officer belonging to the duke of Sultsbach, who, though unauthorized so to act, made little doubt of obtaining thanks from the council for so acceptable a service.

THE duke of Saltsbach, having Jerom now in his power, wrote to the council for directions how to proceed. The council, after expressing their obligations to the duke, desired him to send the prisoner immediately to Constance. The elector palatine met him on the way, and conducted him in|to the city, himself riding on horseback, with a nu|merous retinue, who led Jerom in fetters by a long chain; and immediately on his arrival he was com|mitted to a loathsome dungeon.

JEROM was treated nearly in the same manner as Huss had been, only that he was much longer con|fined, and shifted from one prison to another. At length, being brought before the council, he desir|ed that he might plead his own cause, and excul|pate himself: which being refused him, he broke out into the following exclamation:

"What barbarity is this? For three hundred and forty days have I been confined in a variety of prisons. There is not a misery, there is not a want, which I have not experienced. To my enemies you have allowed the fullest scope of accusation: to me, you deny the least opportunity of defence. Not an hour will you now indulge me in preparing for my trial. You have swallowed the blackest ca|lumnies against me. You have represented me as an heretic, without knowing my doctrine: as an e|nemy to the faith, before you knew what faith I professed: as a persecutor of priests, before you could have any opportunity of understanding my sentiments on that head. You are a general coun|•••••••• in you center all this world can communicate of gravity, wisdom, and sanctity: but still you are 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and men are seducible by appearances. The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 your character is for wisdom, the greater 〈◊〉〈◊〉 your care to be, not to deviate into folly. The cause I now plead is not my own cause: it is the cause of men: it is the cause of christians: it is a cause, which is to effect the rights of posterity, however the experiment is to be made in my per|son."

THIS speech had not the least effect: Jerom was obliged to hear his charge read, which was redu|ced under the following heads:

• 1. THAT he was a derider of the papal dignity.
• 2. AN opposer of the pope.
• 3. AN enemy to the cardinals.
• 4. A persecutor of the prelates.
• 5. AN hater of the christian religion.

TO these several charges Jerom answered with an amazing force of elocution, and strength of argu|ment. "Now, (said he) wretch that I am! whi|ther shall I turn me! To my accusers? My accu|sers are as deaf as ••adders. To you, my judges? You are all prepossessed by the arts of my accusers." —After this speech Jerom was immediately re|manded to his dungeon.

THE trial of Jerom was brought on the third day after his accusation, and witnesses were examined in support of the charge. The prisoner was pre|pared for his defence, which appears almost in|credible, when we consider he had been three hun|dred and forty days shut up in loathsome prisons, deprived of day-light, and almost starved for want of common necessaries. But his spirit soared above these disadvantages, under which a man less anima|ted would have sunk; nor was he more at a loss for quotations from fathers and ancient authors, than if he had been furnished with the finest library.

THE most bigoted of the assembly were unwil|ling he should be heard, knowing what effect elo|quence is apt to have on the minds of the most pre|judiced. At length, however, it was ••arried by the majority, that he should have liberty to proceed in his defence, which he began in such an exal|ted strain of moving elocution, that the heart of

obdurate zeal was seen to melt, and the mind of superstition seemed to admit a ray of conviction. He made an admirable distinction between evidence as resting upon facts, and as supported by malice and calumny. He laid before the assembly the whole tenor of his life and conduct. He observed that the greatest and most holy men had been known to differ in points of speculation, with a view to distinguish truth, not to keep it concealed. He expressed a noble contempt of all his enemies, who would have induced him to retract the cause of virtue and truth. He entered upon an high en|comium on Huss; and declared he was ready to follow him in the glorious track of martyrdom. He then touched upon the most defensible doc|trines of Wickliffe; and concluded with observing, that it was far from his intention to advance any thing against the state of the church of God: that it was only against the abuse of the clergy he com|plained: and that he could not help saying, it was certainly impious that the patrimony of the church, which was originally intended for the purpose of charity, and universal benevolence, should be pros|tituted to the pride of the eye, in feasts, foppish vestments, and other reproaches to the name and profession of christianity.

THE trial being over, Jerom received the same sentence, that had been passed upon his martyred countryman. In consequence of this he was, in the usual stile of popish affectation, delivered over to the civil power: but as he was a layman he had not to undergo the ceremony of degradation. They had prepared a cap of paper painted with red de|vils, which being put upon his head, he said, "Our Lord Jesus Christ, when he suffered death for me a most miserable sinner, he did wear a crown of thorns upon his head; and I, for his sake, will wear this cap."

TWO days were allowed him in hopes that he would recant; in which time the cardinal of Flo|rence used his utmost endeavours to bring him over. But they all proved ineffectual: Jerom was resolved to seal his doctrine with his blood; and he suffered death with the utmost distinguished mag|nanimity.

IN going to the place of execution he sung seve|ral hymns; and when he came to the spot, which was the same where Huss had been burnt, he kneel|ed down, and prayed fervently. He embraced the stake with great chearfulness and resolution; and when the executioner went behind him to set fire to the faggots, he said, "Come here, and kindle it before my eyes; for if I had been afraid of it, I had not come to this place, having had so many opportunities of making my escape."

THE fire being kindled, he sung an hymn, but was soon interrupted by the flames; and the last words he was heard to say were these:

Hanc animam in flammis offero, Christe, tibi! "This soul in flames I offer, Christ, to thee!

An account of the Persecutions in the NE|THERLANDS.

THE light of the gospel having successfully spread over the Netherlands, the pope insti|gated the emperor to commence a persecution a|gainst the protestants; when many thousands fell martyrs to superstitious malice and barbarous bi|gotry; among whom the most remarkable were the following:

WENDELINUTA, a pious protestant widow, was apprehended on account of her religion, when se|veral monks, unsuccessfully, endeavoured to per|suade her to recant. As they could not prevail, a Roman catholic lady of her acquaintance desired to be admitted to the dungeon in which she was con|fined, and promised to exert herself strenuously to|wards inducing the prisoner to adjure the reformed religion. When she was admitted to the dungeon, she did her utmost to perform the task she had un|dertaken; but finding her endeavours ineffectual, she said, Dear Wendelinuta, if you will not embrace our faith, at least keep the things which you pro|fess secret within your own bosom, and strive to prolong your life. To which the widow replied, Madam, you know not what you say; for with the heart we believe to righteousness, but with the tongue confession is made unto salvation. As she

positively refused to recant, her goods were confis|cated, and she was condemned to be burnt. At the place of execution a monk held a cross to her, and bade her kiss and worship God. To which she answered, "I worship no wooden god, but the eternal God who is in heaven." She was then execu|ted, but through the before-mentioned Roman ca|tholic lady, the favour was granted, that she should be strangled before the fire was put to the faggots.

TWO protestant clergymen were burnt at Colen; a tradesman of Antwerp, named Nicholas, was tied up in a sack, thrown into the river, and drowned; and Pistorius, a learned student, was carried to the market of a Dutch village in a fool's coat, and committed to the flames.

SIXTEEN protestants having received sentence to be beheaded, a protestant minister was ordered to attend the execution, This gentleman performed the function of his office with great propriety, ex|horted them to repentance, and gave them comfort in the mercies of their Redeemer. As soon as the sixteen were beheaded, the magistrate cried out to the executioner, "There is another stroke re|maining yet; you must behead the minister, he can never die at a better time than with such excel|lent precepts in his mouth, and such laudable ex|amples before him." He was accordingly behead|ed, though even many of the Roman catholic's themselves reprobated this piece of treacherous and unnecessary cruelty.

GEORGE SEHERTER, a minister of Saltzburg, was apprehended and committed to prison for instruct|ing his flock in the knowledge of the gospel. While he was in confinement he wrote a confession of his faith; soon after which he was condemned, first to be beheaded, and afterwards to be burnt to ash|es. In his way to the place of execution he said to the spectators, "That you may know I die a true christian, I will give you a sign." This was indeed verified in a most singular manner; for after his head was cut off, the body lying a short space of time with the belly to the ground, it suddenly turned upon the back, when the right foot crossed over the left, as did also the right arm over the left: and in this manner it remained till it was commit|ted to the flames.

IN Louviana, a learned man, named Percival, was murdered in prison; and Justus Insprag was beheaded, for having Luther's sermons in his pos|session.

GILES TILLEMAN, a cutler of Brussels, was a man of great humanity and piety. Among others he was apprehended as a protestant, and many en|deavours were made by the monks to persuade him to recant. He had once, by accident, a fair op|portunity of escaping from prison, being asked why he did not avail himself of it, he replied, "I would not do the keepers so much injury, as they must have answered for my absence, had I got away." When he was sentenced to be burnt, he ••ervently thanked God for granting him an opportunity, by martyrdom, to glorify his name. Perceiving, at the place of execution, a great quantity of faggots, he desired the principal part of them might be given to the poor, saying, a small quantity will suffice to consume me. The executioner offered to strangle him before the fire was lighted, but he would not consent, telling him, that he defied the flames; and, indeed, he gave up the ghost with such compo|sure amidst them, that he hardly seemed sensible of their effects.

IN the years 1543 and 1544, the persecution was carried on throughout all Flanders in a most violent and cruel manner. Some were condemned to per|petual imprisonment, others to perpetual banish|ment: but most were put to death either by hang|ing, drowning, immuring, burning, the rack, or burying alive.

JOHN DE BOSCAN••, a zealous protestant, was apprehended on account of his faith, in the city of Antwerp. On his trial he stedfastly professed him|self to be of the reformed religion, which occasion|ed his immediate condemnation The magistrate, however, was afraid to put him to death publicly, as he was popular through his great generosity, and almost universally beloved for his inoffensive life, and exemplary piety. A private execution being determined on, an order was given to drown him in prison. The executioner, accordingly, put him into a large tub; but Boscane struggling, and getting his head above the water, the executioner

stabbed him with a dagger in several places, till he expired.

JOHN DE BUISONS, another protestant, was, about the same time, secretly apprehended, and privately executed at Antwerp. The number of protestants being great in that city, and the prisoner much res|pected, the magistrates feared an insurrection, and for that reason ordered him to be beheaded in pri|son.

A. D. 1568, three persons were apprehended in Antwerp, named Scoblant, Hues, and Coomans. During their confinement they behaved with great fortitude and chearfulness, confessing that the hand of God appeared in what had befallen them, and bowing down before the throne of his providence. In an epistle to some worthy protestants, they ex|press themselves in the following words: Since it is the will of the Almighty that we should suffer for his name, and be persecuted for the sake of his gos|pel, we patiently submit, and are joyful upon the oc|casion: though the flesh may rebel against the spirit, and hearken to the counsel of the old serpent, yet the truths of the gospel shall prevent such advice from being taken, and Christ shall bruise the serpent's head. We are not comfortless in confinement, for we have faith; we fear not affliction, for we have hope; and we forgive our enemies, for we have cha|rity. Be not under apprehensions for us, we are happy in confinement through the promises of God, glory in our bonds, and exult in being thought wor|thy to suffer for the sake of Christ. We desire not to be released, but to be blessed with fortitude; we ask not liberty, but the power of perseverance; and wish for no change in our condition, but that which places a crown of martyrdom upon our heads.

SCOBLANT was first brought to his trial; when, persisting in the profession of his faith, he received sentence of death. On his return to prison, he earnestly requested the gaoler not to permit any friar to come near him; saying, "They can do me no good, but may greatly disturb me. I hope my salvation is already sealed in heaven, and that the blood of Christ, in which I firmly put my trust, hath washed me from my iniquities. I am now go|ing to throw off this earthly mantle of clay, to be clad in robes of eternal glory, by whose celestial bright|ness I shall be freed from all errors. I hope I may be the last martyr to papal tyranny, and the blood already spilt found sufficient to quench the thirst of popish cruelty; that the church of Christ may have rest here, as his servants will hereafter." On the day of execution he took a pathetic leave of his fellow-prisoners. At the stake he fervently said the Lord's Prayer, and sung the fortieth Psalm: then commending his soul to God, he was burnt alive.

HUES, soon after, died in prison; upon which occasion Coomans wrote thus to his friends: "I am now deprived of my friends and companions; Scoblant is martyred, and Hues dead, by the visi|tation of the Lord: yet I am not alone; I have with me the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob; he is my comfort, and shall be my reward. Pray unto God to strengthen me to the end, as I expect every hour to be freed from this tenement of clay."

ON his trial, he freely confessed himself of the reformed religion, answered with a manly forti|tude to every charge against him, and proved the scriptural part of his answers from the gospel. The judge told him the only alternatives were, re|cantation or death; and concluded by saying, "Will you die for the faith you profess?" To which Coomans replied, "I am not only willing to die, but to suffer the most excruciating torments for it: after which my soul shall receive its con|firmation from God himself, in the midst of eternal glory." Being condemned, he went chearfully to the place of execution, and died with the most manly fortitude, and christian resignation.

WILLIAM NASSAU fell a sacrifice to treachery, being assassinated in the fifty-first year of his age, by Baltazar Gerard, a native of Franche Comte, in the province of Burgundy. This murderer, in hopes of a reward here and hereafter, for killing an enemy to the king of Spain, and an enemy to the catholic religion, undertook to destroy the prince of Orange. Having procured fire-arms, he watched him as he passed through the great hall of his palac•• to dinner, and demanded a passport. The pri••••ess of Orange, observing that the assassin spoke with an hollow and confused voice, asked

who he was? saying, she did not like his counte|nance. The prince answered, it was one that de|manded a passport, which he should presently have.

NOTHING farther passed before dinner, but on the return of the prince and princess through the same hall, after dinner was over, the assassin, stand|ing concealed as much as possible by one of the pillars, fired at the prince, the balls entering at the left side, and passing through the right, wounding in their passage the stomach and vital parts. On receiving the wounds, the prince only said, Lord have mercy upon my soul, and upon this poor peo|ple, and then expired immediately.

THE lamentations throughout the United Pro|vinces were general on account of the death of the prince of Orange: and the assassin, who was imme|diately taken, received sentence to be put to death in the most exemplary manner: yet such was his enthusiasm, or folly, that when his flesh was torn by red-hot pincers, he coolly said, If I was at liberty, I would commit such an action over again.

THE prince of Orange's funeral was the grandest ever seen in the Low Countries, and perhaps the sorrow for his death the most sincere, as he left be|hind him the character he honestly deserved, viz. that of the Father of his people.

TO conclude, multitudes were murdered in dif|ferent parts of Flanders: in the city of Valence, in particular, fifty-seven of the principal inhabitants were butchered in one day, for refusing to embrace the Romish superstition; and great numbers were suffered to languish in confinement, till they perish|ed through the inclemency of their dungeons.

An Account of the Persecutions in LITHUANIA.

THE persecutions in Lithuania began in 1648; and were carried on with great severity by the Cossacks and Tartars. The cruelty of the Cos|sacks was such, that even the Tartars, at last, grew ashamed of it, and rescued some of the intended victims from their hands.

THE barbarities exercised were these: skinning alive, cutting off hands, taking out the bowels, cutting the flesh open, putting out the eyes, be|heading, scalping, cutting off feet, boring the shin bones, pouring melted lead into the flesh, hanging, stabbing, and sending to perpetual banishment.

THE Russians taking advantage of the devasta|tions which had been made in the country, and of its incapability of defence, entered with a con|siderable army, and, like a flood, bore down all before them. Every thing they met with was an object of destruction; they razed cities, de|molished castles, ruined fortresses, sacked towns, burnt villages, and murdered people. The mi|nisters of the gospel were peculiarly marked out as the objects of their displeasure, though every worthy christian was liable to the effects of their cruelty.

AS Lithuania recovered itself after one persecu|tion, succeeding enemies again destroyed it. The Swedes, the Prussians, and the Courlanders, carried fire and sword through it, and continual calamities, for some years, at ••nded that unhappy district. It was then attacked by the prince of Transylvania, who had in his army, exclusive of his own Tran|sylvanians, Hungarians, Moldavians, Servians, Wallachians, &c. These, as far as they pene|trated, wasted the country, destroyed the churches, rifled the nobility, burnt the houses, enslaved the healthy, and murdered the sick.

A clergyman, who wrote an account of the mis|fortunes of Lithuania, in the seventeenth century, says, "In consideration of these extremities, we cannot but adore the judgment of God poured upon us for our sins, and deplore our sad condition. Let us hope for a deliverance from his mercy, and wish for restitution in his benevolence. Though we are brought low, though we are wasted, troubled, and terrified, yet his compassion is greater than our calamities, and his goodness superior to our afflic|tions. Our neighbours hate us at present, as much as our more distant enemies did before: they per|secute the remnant of us still remaining, deprive us of our few churches lost, banish our preachers, abuse our schoolmasters, treat us with contempt, and op|press us in the most opprobrious manner. In all

our afflictions the truth of the gospel shone among us, and gave us comfort; and we only wished for the grace of Jesus Christ, (not only to ourselves, but to soften the hearts of our enemies) and the sympathy of our fellow christians."

An Account of the Persecutions in PO|LAND.

IT hath been the fate of many pious people, in all ages of the world to bear the cross of Christ, and suffer persecutions on account of their opinions; for those who are born after the flesh have al|ways been enemies to such as are born after the Spirit.

THE protestants of Poland were persecuted in a dreadful manner. The ministers in particular were treated with the most unexampled barbarity; some having their tongues cut out, because they had preached the gospel truths; others being deprived of their sight on account of having read the bible; and great numbers were cut to pieces for not recanting.

PRIVATE persons were put to death by various methods; the most cruel being usually preferred. Women were murdered without the least regard to their sex; and the persecutors even went so far as to cut off the h••••ds of sucking babes, and fasten them to the breasts of the mothers.

EVEN the solemnity of the grave did not exempt the bodies of protestants from the malice of perse|cutors; for they sacrilegiously dug up the bodies of many eminent persons, and either cut them to pieces, and exposed them to be devoured by birds and beasts, or hung them up in conspicuous or pub|lic places.

THE city of Lesna particularly suffered in this persecution; for being besieged and taken, the in|habitants were all put to the sword.

An Account of the Persecutions in CHINA.

CHRISTIANITY was first established in China by three Italian missionaries, called Roger the Neapolitan, Pasis of Bologne, and Matthew Ricci of Mazerata, in the marquisate of Ancona. These entered China about the beginning of the sixteenth century, being well circumstanced to perform their important commission with success, as they had previously studied the Chinese language.

THESE three missionaries were very assiduous in the discharge of their duty; but Roger and Pasis returning to Europe in a few years, the whole la|bour fell upon Ricci, who aimed to establish chris|tianity with a degree of zeal that was indefatigable.

RICCI, though much disposed to indulge his converts as far as possible, made great hesitation at their ceremonies, which seemed to amount to idolatry. At length, after eighteen years consider|ation, he began to soften his opinion, and tolerated all the parts of those customs which were ordered by the laws of the empire, but strictly enjoined his Chinese christians to omit the rest.

THIS was the condition of Christianity in China, when the christian church established there was go|verned only by Ricci, who, by his moderation, made innumerable converts. In 1630, however, this tranquillity was disturbed by the arrival of some new missionaries: these being unacquainted with the Chinese customs, manners, and language, and with the arguments on which Ricci's toleration was founded, were astonished when they saw christian converts prostrate before Confucius and the tables of their ancestors, and condemned the custom ac|cordingly.

A warm controversy now ensued between Ricci, seconded by his converts, and the new missionaries; and the latter wrote an account of the whole affair to the pope, and the society for the propagation of the christian faith. The society soon pronounced, that the ceremonies were idolatrous and intolerable, and the pope confirmed the sentence. In this both the society and the pope were excusable, as the matter had been misrepresented to them; for the enemies of Ricci had affirmed, the halls, in which the cere|monies

were performed, to be temples, and the ceremonies themselves idolatrous sacrifices.

THE sentence above-mentioned was sent over to China, but treated with contempt, and matters re|mained as they were for some time. At length, a true representation of the matter was sent over, setting forth, that the Chinese customs and ceremo|nies alluded to were entirely free from idolatry, being merely political, and tending only to the peace and welfare of the empire. The pope, find|ing that he had made himself ridiculous, by con|firming an absurd sentence upon a false report, wanted to get rid of the affair, and therefore refer|red the representation to the inquisition, which reversed the sentence immediately, at the private desire of the pope, as may be naturally supposed.

THE christian church, for all these divisions, flou|rished in China till the death of the first Tartar em|peror, whose successor was a minor. During this minority of the young emperor Cang-hi, the regents and nobles conspired to extirpate the christian reli|gion. The execution of this design was begun with expedition, and carried on with severity, so that every christian teacher in China, as well as those who professed the faith, were struck with amazement. John Adam Schall, a German eccle|siastic, and one of the principals of the mission, was thrown into a dungeon in the year 1664, being then in the seventy-fourth year of his age, and nar|rowly escaped with his life.

THE ensuing year, viz. 1665, the ministers of state publicly and unanimously resolved, and made a decree specifying. viz.

1. THAT the christian doctrines were false.

2. THAT they were dangerous to the interest of the empire.

3. THAT they should not be practised under pain of death.

THE publication of this decree occasioned a furi|ous general persecution, in which some were put to death, many were ruined, and all were, in some manner, oppressed. This decree was general, and the persecution universal accordingly throughout the empire; for, previous to this, the christians had been partially persecuted at different times, and in different provinces.

FOUR years after, viz. 1669, the young emperor was declared of age, and took the reigns of govern|ment upon himself, when the persecution immedi|ately ceased by his order.

An Account of the Persecutions in JAPAN.

CHRISTIANITY was first introduced into the idolatrous empire of Japan, by some Por|tuguese missionaries in the year of our Lord 1552, and their endeavours in making converts to the light of the gospel met with a degree of success equal to their most sanguine wishes.

THIS continued till the year 1616, when the mis|sionaries being accused of having concerned them|selves in politics, and formed a plan to subvert the government, and dethrone the emperor, great jea|lousies subsisted till 1622, when the court ordered a dreadful persecution to commence against both fo|reign and native christians. Such was the rage of this persecution, that, during the first four years, no less than 20,570 christians were massacred. The public profession of christianity was prohibited under pain of death, and the churches were shut up by an express edict.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 who were informed against▪ as privately professing christianity, suffered martyrdom with great heroism. The persecution continued many years, when the remnant of the innumerable chris|tians, with which Japan abounded, to the number of 37,000 souls, retired to the town and castle of Siniabara, in the island of Xinio, where they deter|mined to make a stand, to continue in their faith, and to defend themselves to the very l••st extremity.

THE Japanese army pursued the christians, and laid siege to the place. The christians defended themselves with great bravery, and held out against the besiegers for the space of three months, but were at length compelled to surrender, when men,

women, and children, were indiscriminately mur|dered; and christianity, in their martyrdom, entire|ly extirpated from Japan.

THIS event took place on the 12th of April, 1638, since which period no christians but the Dutch are allowed to land in the empire, and even they are obliged to conduct themselves with the greatest precaution, and to carry on their commerce with the utmost circumspection.

An Account of the Persecutions against the CHRISTIANS in ABYSSINIA, or ETHI|OPIA.

TOWARDS the conclusion of the fifteenth century, and soon after the discovery of the Cape of Good Hope, some Portuguese missiona|ries made a voyage to Abyssinia, and were indefa|tigable in propagating the Roman catholic doctrine among the Abyssinians, who professed christianity before the arrival of the missionaries.

THE priests, employed in this mission, gained such influence at court, that the emperor consented to abolish the established rites of the Ethiopian church and to admit those of Rome. He soon after consented to receive a patriarch from Rome, and to acknowledge the pope's supremacy.

MANY of the most powerful lords, and a majority of the people who professed the primitive christia|nity, as first established in Abyssinia, opposed these innovations, and took up arms against the emperor. Thus, by the artifices of the court of Rome, and its emissaries, a most furious civil war was begun, and the whole empire thrown into commotion. This war was carried on through several reigns, its con|tinuance being above 100 hundred years, and the court constantly siding with the Roman catholics, the primitive christians of Abyssinia were severely persecuted, and multitudes perished by the most inhuman means.

An Account of the Persecutions against the CHRISTIANS in TURKEY.

MAHOMET, (the impostor) in the infancy of his new religion, tolerated christianity through a political motive, as he was sensible, that even in those early times it had several powerful espousers among the princes, who were his cotem|poraries. As a proof that this was his sole view, as soon as he found his doctrine was established on a more permanent situation, he altered his forbear|ance to a system of the most rigid and barbarous persecution; which diabolical plan he has particu|larly recommended to his misguided followers, in that part of his Alcoran, intitled, The Chapter of the Sword; and as proofs of the blind zeal his fol|lowers have adopted from his infernal tenets, the many bloody battles of the Turks with the whole of the professors of Christ's gospel, and their cruel massacres of them at various periods, sufficiently evince.

CO••••TANTINE was, in the year 1453, besieged in Constantinople, by Mahomet the second, with an army of 300,000 men, when, after a bloody siege of about six weeks, on the 29th of May, 1453. it fell into the hands of the infidels, after being an imperial christian city for some centuries; and the Turks have, to this day, retained possession of it, as well as of the adjoining suburb of Pera.

ON entering Constantinople, the Turks exercised on the wretched christians the most unremitting barbarity, destroying them by every method the most hellish cruelty could invent, or the most un|feeling heart practise: some they roasted alive on spits; others they stayed alive, and in that horrid manner left to expire with hunger: many were sawed asunder, and others torn to pieces by horses. For full three days and nights the Turks were striving to exceed each other in the exercise of their shock|ing carnage, and savage barbarity; murdering, without distinction of age or sex, all they met, and brutishly violating the chastity of women, of every distinction and age.

DURING the year 1529, Solyman the First re|took Buda from the christians, and began a most horrible persecution of the inhabitants; some

had their eyes torn out, others their hands, ears, and noses cut off, and the children their privities, the virgins were deflowered, the matrons had their breasts cut off, and such that were pregnant had their wom••s ripped open, and their unborn babes thrown into the flames. Not content with this, he repeated these horrid examples all the way on his march to Vienna, which he ineffectually besie|ged, during which, this diabolical barbarian, having made a body of christians prisoners, he sent three of them into the city to relate the great strength of his army, and the rest he ordered to be torn limb from limb by wild horses in sight of their christian brethren, who could only lament by their cries and tears their dreadful fate.

IN many places the tender children were in sight of their wretched parents torn to pieces by beasts, o|thers dragged at horses heels, some famished with hunger, and others buried up to their necks in earth, and in that manner left to perish. In short, were we to relate the innumerable massacres and deplorable tragedies acted by the infidels, the parti|culars would at least make a volume of themselves, and from their horrid simularity be not only shock|ing, but disgusting to the reader.

Persecutions and Oppressions in GEORGIA and MINGRELIA.

THE Georgians are christians, and being very handsome people, the Turks and Persians persecute them by the most cruel mode of taxation ever invented, viz. in lieu of money, they compel them to deliver up their children for the following purposes.

THE females to increase the number of concu|bines in the seraglios; to serve as maids of honour to sultanas, the ladies of bashaws, &c. and to be sold to merchants of different nations, by whom the price is proportioned to the beauty of the pur|chased fair one.

THE males are used as mutes and eunuchs in the seraglio, as clerks in the offices of state, and as soldiers in the army.

TO the west of Georgia is Mingrelia, a country likewise inhabited by christians, who are persecuted and oppre••••••d in the same manner as the Georgians by the Turks and Persians, their children being extorted from them, or they murdered for refusing to consent to the sale.

An account of the PERSECUTIONS in the STATES of BARBARY.

IN Algiers the christians are treated with parti|cular severity; as the Algerines are some of the most perfidious, as well as the most cruel of all the ••nhabitants of Barbary. By paying a most ex|orbitant fine, some christians are allowed the title of Free Christians; and these are permitted to dress in the fashion of their respective countries, but the christian slaves are obliged to wear a coarse grey suit, and a seaman's cap.

THE punishments among the Algerines are vari|ous, viz.

1. IF they join any of the natives in open rebel|lion, they are strangled with a bow-string, or hang|ed on an iron hook.

2. IF they speak against Mahomet, they must either turn Mahometans, or be impaled alive.

3. IF they turn christians again, after having changed to the Mahometan persuasion, they are roasted alive, or thrown from the city walls, and caught upon large sharp hooks, where they hang in a miserable manner several days, and expire in the most exquisite tortures.

4. If they kill a Turk, they are burnt.

5. Those christians who attempt to escape from slavery, and are re-taken, suffer death in the follow|ing manner, which is equally singular and brutal: the criminal is hung naked on a high gallows, by two hooks, the one fastened qu••te through the palm of one hand, and the other through the sole of the opposite foot, where he is left till death relieves him from his cruel sufferings.

OTHER punishments, for trifling crimes commit|ted by the christians, are left to the discretion of the respective judges, who being usually of malici|ous and vindictive dispositions, decree them in the most inhuman manner.

IN Tunis, if a christian slave is caught in attemp|ting to escape, his limbs are all broken; and if he murders his master, he is fastened to the tail of a horse, and dragged about the streets till he ex|pires.

MOROCCO and Fez conjointly form an empire, and are together the most considerable of the Bar|bary states. In this empire christian slaves are treated with the greatest cruelty: the rich have exorbitant ransoms fixed upon them; the poor are hard worked, and half starved, and sometimes mur|dered by the emperor, or their masters, for mere amusement.

An Account of the Persecutions in SPANISH AMERICA.

THE bloody tenets of the Roman catholic persuasion, and the cruel disposition of the ••otaries of that church, cannot be more amply displayed, or truly depicted, than by giving an au|thentic and simple narrative of the horrid barbari|ties exercised by the Spaniards on the innocent and unoffending natives of America. Indeed, the bar|barities were such, that they would scarce seem credible from their enormity, and the victims so many, that they would startle belief by their num|bers, if the facts were not indisputably ascertained, and the circumstances admitted by their own wri|ters, some of whom have even gloried in their inhu|manity, and, as Roman catholics, deemed those atrocious actions meritorious, which would make a protestant shudder to relate.

THE West-Indies, and the vast continent of A|merica, were discovered by that celebrated naviga|tor Christopher Columbus, 14••2. This distin|guished commander landed first in the large island of St. Domingo, or Hispaniola, which was at that time exceedingly populous; but this population was of little consequence, the inoffensive inhabitants being murdered by multitudes, as soon as the Spa|niards gained a permanent footing in the island. Blind superstition, bloody bigotry, and craving a|varice, rendered that, in a course of years, a dismal desart, which, at the arrival of the Spaniards, seem|ed to appear as an earthly paradise; so that at pre|sent there is scarce a remnant of the ancient natives remaining.

THE natives of Guatemala, a country of America, were used with great barbarity. They were for|merly active and valiant, but from ill-usage and oppression grow slothful, and so dispirited, that they not only trembled at the fight of fire-arms, but even at the very looks of a Spaniard. Some were so plunged into despair, that after returning home from labouring hard for their cruel task-masters, and receiving only contemptuous language and stripes for their pains, they have sunk down in their cabins, with a full resolution to prefer death to such slavery; and, in the bitterness of their an|guish, have refused all sustenance till they perished.

BY repeated barbarities, and the most execrable cruelties, the vindictive and merciless Spaniards not only depopulated Hispaniola, Porto-Rico, Cuba, Jamaica, and the Bahama islands, but destroyed above 12,000,000 of souls upon the continent of America, in the space of 40 years.

THE cruel methods by which they massacred and butchered the poor natives, were innumerable, and of the most diabolical nature.

THE Spaniards stripped a large and very popu|lous town of all its inhabitants, whom they drove to the mines, leaving all the children behind them, without the least idea of providing for their subsist|ence, by which inhuman proceeding six thousand helpless infants perished.

WHENEVER the people of any town had the repu|tation of being rich, an order was immediately sent, that every person in it should turn Roman catholics: if this was not directly complied with, the town was instantly plundered, and the inhabitants mur|dered; and if it was complied with, a pretence

was soon after made to strip the inhabitants of their wealth.

ONE of the Spanish governors seized upon a very worthy and amiable Indian prince, and in order to extort from him where his treasures were conceal|ed, caused his feet to be burnt till the marrow dropped from his bones, and he expired through the extremity of the torments he underwent.

IN the interval, between the years 1514 and 1522, the governor of Terra Firma put to death, and destroyed, 800,000 of the inhabitants of that country.

BETWEEN the years 1523 and 1533, five hundred thousand natives of Nicaragua were transported to Peru, where they all perished by incessant labour in the mines.

IN the space of twelve years, from the first land|ing of Cortez on the continent of America, to the entire reduction of the populous empire of Mexico, the amazing number of 4,000,000 of Mexicans perished, through the unparallelled barbarity of the Spaniards. To come to particulars, the city of Cholula consisted of 30,000 houses, by which its great population may be imagined. The Spaniards seized on all the inhabitants, who refusing to turn Roman catholics, as they did not know the mean|ing of the religion they were ordered to embrace, the Spaniards put them all to death, cutting to pieces the lower sort of people, and burning those of distinction.

CHAP. V. Containing an Account of the PERSECUTIONS in GREAT-BRITAIN and IRELAND.

GILDAS, the most ancient British writer ex|tant, who lived about the time that the Sax|ons left this island, has draw•• a most shocking instance of the barbarity of those people.

THE Saxons, on their arrival, being heathens like the Picts and Scots, destroyed the churches and murdered the clergy wherever they came: but they could not destroy christianity, for those who would not submit to the Saxon yoke, went and resided be|yond the Severn. Neither have we the names of those christian sufferers transmitted to us, especially those of the clergy.

THE most dreadful instance of barbarity under the Saxon government, was the massacre of the monks of Bangor, A. D. 58••. These monks were in all respects different from those men who bear the same name at present.

IN the eighth century, the Danes, a roving crew of barbarians, landed in different parts of Britain, both in England and Scotland

AT first they were repulsed, but in A. D. 857, a party of them landed somewhere near Southamp|ton, and not only robbed the people, but burnt down the churches, and murdered the clergy.

IN A. D. 868, these barbarians penetrated into the center of England, and took up their quarters at Nottingham; but the English under their king E|thelfrid, drove them from those posts, and obliged them to retire to Northumberland.

IN 870, another body of these barbarians landed in Norfolk, and engaged in battle with the English at Hertford. Victory declared in favour of the pagans, who took Edmund, king of the East An|gles, prisoner, and after treating him with a thou|sand indignities, transfixed his body with arrows, and then beheaded him.

IN ••ifeshire, in Scotland, they burnt many of the churches▪ and among the rest that belonging to the Culdees, at St. Andrew's. The piety of these men made them objects of abhorrence to the Danes, who, wherever they went, singled out the christian

priests for destruction, of whom no less than 200 were massacred in Scotland.

IT was much the same in that part of Ireland now called Leinster; there the Danes murdered and burnt the priests alive in their own churches; they carried destruction along with them wherever they went, sparing neither age nor s••x, but the cler|gy were the most obnoxious to them, because they ridiculed their idolatry, and persuaded their people to have nothing to do with them.

IN the reign of Edward III. the church of En|gland was extremely corrupted with errors and su|perstition▪ and the light of the gospel of Christ was greatly eclipsed and darkened with human inven|tions, burthensome ceremonies, and gross idolatry.

THE followers of Wickliffe, then called Lollards, were extremely numerous, and the clergy were vex|ed to see them increase, whatever power or influence they might have to molest them in an underhand manner, they had no authority by law to put them to death. However, the clergy embraced the fa|v••••rable opportunity, and prevailed upon the king to suffer a bill to be brought into parliament, by which all Lollards who remained obstinate, should be delivered over to the civil power and burnt as heretics. This act was the first in this island for the burning of people for their religious sentiments; it passed in the year 1401, and was soon after put into execution.

THE first person who suffered in consequence of this cruel act was William Santree, or Sawtree, a priest, who was burnt to death in Smithfield.

SOON after this, lord Cobham, in consequence of his attachment to the doctrines of Wickliffe, was accused of heresy, and being condemned to be hang|ed and burnt, was accordingly executed in Lincoln's Inn-Fields, A. D. 1419.

THE next man who suffered under this bloody statute was Thomas Badley, a taylor, and a lay|man; and a letter having been tendered to him, which he refused, he was declared an obstinate he|retic, and tied to the stake in Smithfield; where he was burnt alive, rejoicing i•• the Lord his God.

THE next person we read of who was tried upon this abominable statute, was William Thorpe, a man of some knowledge, who adhered to all the doctrines taught by Wickliffe. He was brought many times before archbishop Arundel, and at last committed a close prisoner, where he died, but in what manner cannot now be ascertained.

ABOUT this time 36 persons, denominated Lol|lards, suffered death in St. Giles's, for no other rea|son than professing their attachment to the doctrines of Wickliffe. They were hung on gibbets, and faggots being placed under them, as soon as they were suspended, fire were set to them, so they were burnt while hanging. Only one of their names has been transmitted to us, which is that of sir Ro|ger Archer, whom they distinguished from the rest by stripping him stark naked, and executing him in that indecent manner.

MUCH about the same time one Richard Turn|ing was burned alive in Smithfield, and suffered with all that constancy, fortitude, and resignation, which have so much distinguished the primitive christians.

IN 1428, Abraham, a monk of Colchester, Mil|burn White, a priest, and John Wade, a priest, were all three apprehended on a charge of heresy.

SOON after father Abraham suffered at Colchester, and with him John Whaddon; both of whom died in a constant adherrence to the truth of the gospel. Milburn White and John Wade suffered also about the same time in London.

IN the year 1430. Richard ••vedon, a wool-comb|er, and a citizen of London, was brought before the archbishop, and being declared an obstinate he|retic, was burnt alive o•• Tower-hill, for no other reason than that he embraced and professed the doc|trines of Wickliffe.

IN the year 1431, Thomas Bagley, a priest, who had a living near Malden, ••n Essex, was brought before the bishop of London, and b••ing d••clared an obstinate heretic, was condemned and burned alive in Smithfield.

IN the year 1439, Richard Wick, a priest•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉

burned alive on Tower-hill, for preaching the doc|trines of Wickliffe.

IN 1440, some of the greatest persons in the kingdom were condemned to perpetual imprisonment for heresy, as being Lollards; among whom was the duchess of Gloucester, who had long been a fol|lower of Wickliffe. It was otherwise, however, with Roger Only, a priest, who being condemned as an obstinate heretic, was burnt alive in Smith|field.

IN August, 1473, one Thomas Granter was ap|prehended in London; he was accused of professing the doctrines of Wickliffe, for which he was con|demned as an obstinate heretic. This pious man being brought to the sheriff's house, on the morn|ing of the day appointed for his execution, desired a little refreshment, and having eat some, he said to the people present, "I eat now a very good meal, for •• have a strange conflict to engage with before I go to supper;" and having eaten, he re|turned thanks to God for the bounties of his all-gracious providence, requesting that he might be in|stantly led to the place of execution, to bear testi|mony to the truth of those principles which he had professed. Accordingly he was chained to a stake on Tower-hill, where he was burned alive, profes|sing the truth with his last breath.

APRIL 28th, 1494, Joan Boughton, a lady of considerable rank, was burned in Smithfield for pro|fessing the doctrines of Wickliffe. This lady was a widow, and no less than 80 years of age.

IN 1498, the king being th••n at Canterbury, a priest was brought before him▪ accused of heresy, who was immediately ordered to be burnt alive.

IN the year 1499, one Babrar••, a pious man, was brought before the bishop of Norwich, having been accused by some of the priests, with holding the doctrines of Wickliffe. He confessed he did be|lieve every thing that was objected against him. For this he was condemned as an obstinate heretic, and a warrant was granted for his execution; ac|cordingly he was brought to the stake at Norwich, where he suffered with great constancy.

IN 1506, one William Tilfery, a pious man, was burned alive at Amersham, in a close called Stoney|prat, and, at the same time, his daughter, Joan Clarke, a married woman, was obliged to light the faggots that were to burn her father.

THIS year also one father Roberts, a priest, was convicted of being a Lollard before the bishop of Lincoln, and burnt alive at Buckingham.

IN 1507, one Thomas Norris was burned alive for the testimony of the truth of the gospel, at Nor|wich. This man was a poor, inoffensive, harmless person, but his parish priest conversing with him one day, conjectured he was a Lollard. In conse|quence of this supposition he gave information to the bishop, and Norris was apprehended.

IN 1508, one Lawrence Guale, who had been kept in prison two years, was burnt alive at Salisbu|ry, for denying the real presence in the sacrament. It appeared that this man kept a shop in Salisbury, and entertained some Lollards in his house: for which he was informed against to the bishop; but he abode by his first testimony, and was condemned to suffer as an heretic,

A pious woman was burnt at Chippen Sudburne, by order of the chancellor, Doctor Whittenham. After she had been consumed in the flames, and the people were returning home, a bull broke loose from a butcher, and singling out the chancellor from all the rest of the company, he gored him through the body, and on his horns carried away his entrails. This was seen by all the people, and it is remarkable, that the animal did not meddle with any other person whatever.

OCTOBER 18th, 1511. William Succling and John Bannister, who had formerly recanted, returned a|gain to the profession of the faith, and were burned alive in Smithfield.

IN the year 1517, one John Brown, (who had recanted before in the reign of Henry VII▪ and borne a faggot round St. Paul's,) was condemned by Dr. Wonhaman, archbishop of Canterbury, and burnt alive at Ashford. Before he was chained to the stake, the archbishop Wo••haman, and Yester,

bishop of Rochester, caused his feet to be burned in a fire till all the flesh came off, even to the bones. This was done in order to make him again recant, but he persisted in his attachment to the truth till the last.

MUCH about this time one Richard Hunn, a mer|chant taylor of the city of London, was apprehend|ed, having refused to pay the priest his fees for the funeral of a child; and being conveyed to the Lol|lards' Tower, in the palace of Lambeth, was there privately murdered by some of the servants of the archbishop.

SEPTEMBER 24, 1518, John Stilincen, who had before recanted, was apprehended, brought before Richard Fitz-James, bishop of London, and on the 25th of October was condemned as an heretic. He was chained to the stake in Smithfield amidst a vast crowd of spectators, and sealed his testimony to the truth with his blood. He declared that he was a Lollard, and that he had always believed the opi|nions of Wickl••ffe; and although he had been weak enough to recant his opinions, yet he was now wil|ling to convince the world that he was ready to die for the truth.

IN the year 1519, Thomas Mann was burnt in London, as was one Robert Celin, a plain honest man, for spe••king against image-worship and pil|grimages.

MUCH abo••t this time, was executed in Smith|field, in Lond••n, James Brewster, a native of Col|chester. His ••entiments were the same as the rest of the Lollards▪ or those who followed the doctrines of Wickliffe; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 notwithstanding the innocence of his life, and t••e regularity of his manners, he was obliged to sub••it to papal revenge.

DURING this year, one Christopher, a shoemaker, was burned ali••e at Newbury, in Berkshire, for de|nying those po••ish articles which we have already mentioned. This man had got some books in En|glish, which w••re sufficient to render him obnoxi|ous to the Ro••ish clergy.

IN 1521, Thomas Bernard was burned alive at Norwich, for denying the real presence.

ABOUT the beginning of the year 1522, Mr. Wrigsham, a glover; Mr. Langdale, a hosier; Thomas Bond, Robert Harchers, and William Ar|cher, shoemaker, with Mrs. Smith, a widow, were apprehended on Ash-Wednesday, and committed to prison. After examination, the bishop of Litch|field declared them to be heretics, and they were all condemned and burned alive at Coventry.

ROBERT SILKS, who had been condemned in the Bishop's court as an heretic, made his escape out of prison, but was taken two years afterwards, and brought back to Coventry, where he was burned alive. The sheriffs always seized the goods of the martyrs for their own use, so that their wives and children were left to starve.

IN 1532, Thomas Harding, who, with his wife, had been accused of heresy, was brought before the bishop of Lincoln, and condemned for denying the real presence in the sacrament. He was then chain|ed to a stake, erected for the purpose▪ at Chesham in the Pell, near Bote••y; and when they had set fire to the faggots, one of the spectators dashed out his brains with a billet. The priests told the peo|ple, that whoever brought faggots to burn heretics should have an indulgence to commit sins for forty days.

DURING the latter end of this year, Worham, archbishop of Canterbury, apprehended one Hitten, a priest, at Maidstone; and after he had been long tortured in prison, and several times examined by the archbishop, and Fisher, bishop of Rochester, he was condemned as an heretic, and burned alive be|fore the door of his own parish church.

THOMAS BILNEY, profes••or of civil law, at Cam|bridge, was brought before the bishop of London, and several other bishops, in the Chapter-house, Westminster, and being several times threatened with the stake and flames, he was weak enough to recant; but he repented severely afterwards.

FOR this he was brought before the bishops a second time, and condemned to death. Before he went to the stake he confessed his adherence to those opinions which Luther held▪ and, when at it, he smiled, and said, "I have had my storms in this

world, but now my vessel will soon be on shore in heaven." He stood unmoved in the flames, cry|ing out, "Jesus, I believe;" and these were the last words he was heard to utter.

A few weeks after Bilney had suffered, Richard Byfield was cast into prison, and endured some whip|ping, for his adherence to the doctrines of Luther: this Mr. Byfield had been some time a monk, at Barnes, in Surry, but was converted, by reading Tindal's version of the New Testament. The suf|ferings this man underwent for the truth were so great, that it would require a volume to contain them. Sometimes he was shut up in a dungeon, where he was almost suffocated, by the offensive and horrid smell of filth and stagnated water. At other times he was tied up by the arms, till almost all his joints were dislocated. He was whipped at the post several times, till scarce any flesh was left on his back; and all this was done to make him recant. He was then taken to the Lollard's Tower in Lambath palace, where he was chained by the neck to the wall, and once every day beaten in the most cruel manner by the archbishop's servants. At last he was condemned, degraded, and burnt in Smithfield.

THE next person that suffered was John Tewks|bury. This was a plain simple man, who had been guilty of no other offence, against what was called the holy mother church, than that of reading Tin|dal's translation of the New Testament. At first he was weak enough to abjure, but afterwards re|pented, and acknowledged the truth. For this he was brought before the bishop of London, who condemned him as an obstinate heretic. He suffer|ed greatly during the time of his imprisonment, so that when they brought him out to execution, he was almost dead. He was conducted to the stake in Smithfield, where he was burned, declaring his utter abhorrence of popery, and professing a firm belief that his cause was just in the sight of God.

MUCH about this time Valentine Treest, and his wife, were apprehended in Yorkshire, and having been examined by the archbishop, were deemed as obstinate heretics, and burnt.

THE next person who suffered in this reign was James Baynham, a reputable citizen in London, who had married the widow of a gentleman in the Temple. When chained to the stake he embraced the faggots, and said, "Oh, ye papists, behold! ye look for miracles; here now may you see a mi|racle; for in this fire I feel no more pain than if I were in bed; for it is as sweet to me as a bed of roses." Thus he resigned his soul into the hands of his Redeemer.

SOON after the death of this martyr, one Traxnel, an inoffensive countryman, was burned alive at Bradford, in Wiltshire, because he would not ac|knowledge the real presence in the sacrament, nor own the papal supremacy over the consciences of men.

IN the year 1533, John Frith, a noted martyr died for the truth. When he was brought to the stake in Smithfield, he embraced the faggots, and exhorted a young man, named Andrew Hewet, who suffered with him, to trust his soul to that God who had redeemed it. Both these sufferers endured much torment, for the wind blew the flames away from them, so that they were above two hours in agony before they expired.

AT the latter end of this year, one Mr. Thomas Bennet, a school-master, was apprehended at Exe|ter, and being brought before the bishop, refused to recant his opinions, for which he was deliver|ed over to the secular power, and burned alive near that city.

IN the year 1538, one Collins, a madman, suf|fered death with his dog in Smithfield. The cir|cumstances were as follow: Collins happened to be in church when the priest elevated the host; and Collins, in derision of the sacrifice of the mass, lift|ed up his dog above his head. For this crime Col|lins, who ought to have been sent to a mad-house, or whipped at the cart's tail, was brought before the bishop of London; and although he was really mad, yet such was the force of popish power, such the corruption in the church and state, that the poor madman, and his dog, were both carried to the stake in Smithfield, where they were burned to ashes, amidst a vast crowd of spectators.

THERE were some other persons who suffered the same year, of whom we shall take notice in the or|der they lay before us.

ONE Cowbridge suffered at Oxford, and altho' he was reputed to be a madman, yet he shewed great signs of piety when he was fastened to the stake, and after the flames were kindled around him.

ABOUT the same time one Purderve was put to death, for saying privately to a priest, after he had drank the wine, "He blessed the hungry people with the empty chalice."

AT the same time was condemned William Let|ton, a monk of great age, in the county of Suffolk, who was burned at Norwich for speaking against an idol that was carried in procession; and for assert|ing, that the sacrament should be administered in both kinds.

SOME time before the burning of these men, Ni|cholas Peke was executed at Norwich; and when the fire was lighted, he was so scorched that he was as black as pitch. Dr. Reading standing before him with Dr. Hearne, and Dr. Spragwell, having a white wand in his hand, struck him upon the right shoulder, and said, "Peke, recant, and believe in the sacrament." To this he answered, "I despise thee and it also;" and with great violence he spit blood, occasioned by the anguish of his sufferings. Dr. Reading granted forty days indulgence for the sufferer, in order that he might recant his opinions. But he persisted in his adherence to the truth, with|out paying any regard to the malice of his ene|mies; and he was burned alive, rejoicing that Christ had counted him worthy to suffer for his name's sake.

ON July 28th 1540, or 1541, (for the chronolo|gy differs) Thomas Cromwell, earl of Essel, was brought to a scaffold on Tower-hill, where he was executed with some striking instances of cruelty. He made a short speech to the people, and then meekly resigned himself to the axe.

IT is, we think, with great propriety, that this nobleman is ranked among the martyrs; for al|though the accusations preferred against him did not relate to any thing in religion, yet had it not been for his zeal to demolish popery, he might have to the last retained the king's favour. To this may be added, that the papists plotted his destruc|tion, for he did more towards promoting the refor|mation, than any man in that age, except the good Dr. Cranmer.

SOON after the execution of Cromwell, Dr. Cuthbert Barnes, Thomas Garnet, and William Jerome, were brought before the ecclesiastical court of the bishop of London, and accused of heresy.

BEING before the bishop of London, Dr. Barnes was asked whether the saints prayed for us? To this he answered, that he would leave that to God; but (said he) I will pray for you.

ON the 13th of July, 1541, these men were brought from the Tower to Smithfield, where they were all chained to one stake; and there suffered death with a constancy that nothing less than a firm faith in Jesus Christ could inspire.

ONE Thomas Sommers, an honest merchant, with three others, was thrown into prison, for reading some of Luther's books; and they were condemned to carry these books to a fire in Cheap|side; there they were to throw them into flames; but Sommers threw his over, for which he was sent back to the Tower, where he was stoned to death.

DREADFUL persecutions were at this time carried on at Lincoln, under Dr. Longland, the bishop of that diocese. At Buckingham, Thomas Bainard, and James Moreton, the one for reading the Lord's prayer in English, and the other for reading St. James's epistle in English, were both condemned, and burned alive.

ANTHONY PARSONS, a priest, together with two others, were sent to Windsor, to be examined con|cerning heresy; and several articles were tendered to them to subscribe, which they refused. This was carried on by the bishop of Salisbury, who was the most violent persecutor of any in that age, ex|cept Bonner. When they were brought to the stake, Parsons asked for some drink, which being

brought him, he drank to his fellow-sufferers, say|ing, "Be merry, my brethren, and lift up your hearts to God; for after this sharp breakfast I trust we shall have a good dinner in the kingdom of Christ, our Lord and Redeemer." At these words Eastwood, one of the sufferers, lifted up his eyes and hands to heaven, desiring the Lord above to receive his spirit. Parsons pulled the straw near to him, and then said to the spectators, This is God's armour, and now I am a christian soldier prepared for battle: I look for no mercy but through the merits of Christ; he is my only Sa|viour, in him do I trust for salvation; and soon after the fires were lighted, which burned their bo|dies, but could not hurt their precious and immor|tal souls. Their constancy triumphed over cruel|ty, and their sufferings will be held in everlasting remembrance.

IN 1546, one Saitees, a priest, was, by order of bishop Gardiner, hanged in Southwark, without a council process; and all that was alledged against him was, that of reading Tindal's New Testament.

THIS year one Kirby was burned in Ipswich, for the testimony of the truth, for denying the real pre|sence in the sacrament. When this martyr was brought to the stake, he said to one Mr. Wingfield, who attended him, "Ah! Mr. Wingfield, be at my death, and you shall say, there standeth a chris|tian sufferer in the fire.

An account of a horrid plot, concerted by the Papists for d••stroying the City of London by Fire, in the Reign of King CHARLES II.

STIMULATED by revenge, and prompted by the force of superstitious principles, the pa|pi••ts still dedicated their thoughts to every machi|nation their invention could project, to obtain their wished for purposes, namely, the destruction of the protestants in this island.

HAVING failed in several efforts, they, at length, bethought th••mselves of a scheme for destroying the capital of the kingdom, which they flattered themselves mig••t be productive of facilitating their farther intentions of extirpating the protestants, and, once more, establishing popery in the English dominions.

THOUGH their scheme, in some measure, took place, yet it was not productive of the consequen|ces they hoped and wished for. A great part of the city was, indeed, destroyed, the melancholy particulars of which we shall copy from the Lon|don Gazette, published a few days after:

Whitehall, Sept. 8, 1666.

"ON the second instant, at one o'clock in the morning, there happened to break out a sad and deplorable fire, at a baker's in Pudding-lane, near Fish-street, which falling out at that hour of the night, and in a quarter of the town so close built with wooden pitched houses, spread itself so far before day, and with such, distraction to the inha|bitants and neighbours, that care was not taken for the timely preventing the further diffusion of it, by pulling down houses, as ought to have been; so that this lamentable fire, in a short time, became too big to be mastered by any engines, or working near it. It fell out most unhappily too, that a vio|lent easterly wind fomented it, and kept it burning all that day, and the night following, spreading itself up to Gracechurch-street, and downwards to Cannon-street to the water-side, as far as the Three Cranes in the Vintry.

THE people, in all parts about it, were distracted by the vastness of it, and their particular care to carry away their goods. Many attempts were made to prevent the spreading of it, by pulling down houses, and making great intervals, but all in vain, the fire seizing upon the timber and rub|bish, and so continuing itself even through those spaces, and raging in a bright flame all Monday and Tuesday, notwithstanding his majesty's own, and his royal highness's indefatigable and personal pains to apply all possible remedies to prevent it, calling upon, and helping the people with their guards, and a great number of nobility and gentry unwearied assisting therein, for which they were required with a thousand blessings from the poor distressed people.

BY the favour of God, the wind slackened a lit|tle on Tuesday night, and the flames meeting with

brick buildings at the Temple, by little and little it was observed to lose its force on that side, so that on Wednesday morning we began to hope well, and his royal highness never despairing, or slacken|ing his personal care, wrought so well that day, assisted in some parts by the lords of the council before and behind it, that a stop was put to it at the Temple church, near Holborn bridge, Pie-corner, Aldersgate, Cripplegate, near the lower end of Coleman street, at the end of Basinghall-street, by the Postern, at the upper end of Bishopsgate-street, and Leadenhall-street, at the standard in Cornhill, at the church in Fenchurch-street, near Cloth|makers-hall in Mincing-lane, at the middle of Mark-lane, and at the Tower-dock.

ON Thursday, by the blessing of God, it was ••••olly be••t down and extinguished. But so as that ••••••••ing it unhappily burst out again afresh at the ••••mple, by the falling of some sparks (as is suppo|••••) upon a pile of wooden buildings; but his roy|••••••ighness, who wa••ched there that whole night in person, by the great labours and diligence used, and especially by applying powder, to blow up the hou|•••• about it, before day most happily mastered it.

HIS majesty then sat hourly in council, and ever since hath continued making rounds about the city, i•• all parts of it where the danger and mischief was the greatest, till this morning that he hath sent his ••••••ce the duke of Albemarle, whom he hath called for to assist him on this great occasion, to put his happy and successful hand to the finishing this me|••••rable deliverance.

DURING the progress of this dreadful conflagra|••••••••, orders were given for pulling down various houses in the Tower of London, in order to pre|serve the grand magazine of gunpowder in that ••••••tress; to the preservation of which, the violent 〈◊〉〈◊〉 wind contributed more than the precaution.

MANY thousands of citizens, who, by this cala|mity, were deprived of their habitations, retired to the fields, destitute of all necessaries, and exposed to the inclemency of the weather, till a sufficient number of huts could be erected for their relief. In order to mitigate the distresses of the people, his majesty ordered a great quantity of naval bread to be distributed among them; and issued a procla|mation, commanding the magistrates of the city to encourage the bringing of all kinds of provisions.

BY the certificate of Jonas Moore and Ralph Gatrix, the surveyors appointed to examine the ru|ins, it appeared, that this dreadful fire over-r••n 373 acres of ground within the walls, and burnt 13,200 houses, 89 parish churches, besides chap|pels; and that only eleven parish churches within the walls were left standing.

TO this account may also be added the magnifi|cent buildings of St. Paul's cathedral, Guildhall, the Royal Exchange, Custom-house, and Blackwell|hall; many hospitals and libraries, fifty-two halls of the city companies, and a great number of o|ther stately edifices; together with three of the city gates, and the prisons of Newgate, the Fleet, the Poultry and Wood-street Comp••ers; the loss of which, by the best calculation, amounted to up|wards of ten millions sterling. And notwithstand|ing all this destruction, yet only six persons lost their lives.

VARIOUS were the conjectures of the people on the cause of this singular calamity: at first some imagined it to be casual, but from a train of cir|cumstances, it afterwards appeared to have been done from the malice and horrid contrivances of the papists. Several suspected persons were taken into custody; but no positive proof being produ|ced against them, they were discharged.

THOUGH this diabolical scheme took place, in a great measure, to ••••ie wishes of the wicked contri|vers, yet, instead of being prejudicial, it was in the end, productive of most unhappy consequences to the metropolis. It certainly, for a time, occa|sioned the most distinguished distress to the inhabi|tants, but it afforded an opportunity that never happened before, and in all human probability, ne|ver may again, of restoring the city with more uni|formity, conveniency, and wholesomeness▪ than could be expected in a town of progressive growth. The streets were before narrow, crooked, and in|commodious; the houses chiefly of wood, dark,

close, and ill-contrived; with several stories pro|jecting beyond each other, as they rose, over the narrow streets. The free circulation of the air was, by these means, obstructed; and the people breathed a stagnant unwholesome element, replete with foul effluvia, sufficient of itself to generate putrid disorders, and disposed to harbour any pesti|lential taint it might receive. All these inconve|niences were removed, by the streets being made more open, and the buildings principally formed of brick; so that if, either by accident or other|wise, a fire should happen in future, its progress would be soon stopped, and the direful consequen|ces which generally arise from such circumstances rendered trifling.

BESIDES the conveniences already mentioned, the fire of London was certainly productive of an ad|vantage of the most valuable nature, namely, the extirpation of that contagious and destructive dis|temper the plague, which, but the year before, had brought thousands to their graves. This horrid disease had made great devastation among the inha|bitants, not only of the metropolis, but different parts of the kingdom, at various periods; but, thank God, its baneful influence has never taken place here since the before-mentioned catastrophe, and there is great reason to suppose that the fire materially contributed to the production of so hap|py a circumstance.

TO perpetuate, however, the remembrance of so singular an occurrence, a monument was erected in that part of the city near which the fire began. It is esteemed the noblest modern column in the world; and may, in some respects, vie with the most celebrated of antiquity, which are consecra|ted to the names of Trajan and Antoninus.

An Account of the Persecution in Scotland during the Reign of King HENRY VIII.

THE first person we meet with who suffered in Scotland on the score of religion, was one Patrick Hamilton, a gentleman of an independent fortune, and descended from a very ancient and honourable family.

HAVING acquired a liberal education, and being desirous of farther improving himself in useful knowledge, he left Scotland, and went to the uni|versity of Wirtenberg, in Germany, in order to finish his studies.

DURING his residence here, he became intimate|ly acquainted with those eminent lights of the gos|pel, Martin Luther and Philip Melancthon; from whose writings and doctrines he strongly attached himself to the protestant religion.

THE archbishop of St. Andrew's (who was a rigid papish) hearing of Mr. Hamilton's proceed|ings, caused him to be seized, and being brought before him, after a short examination relative to his religious principles, he committed him a prisoner to the castle, at the same time ordering him to be con|fined in the most loathsome part of the prison.

THE next morning Mr. Hamilton was brought before the bishop, and several others, for examina|tion, when the principal articles exhibited against him were, his publicly disapproving of pilgrima|ges, purgatory, prayers to saints, for the dead, &c.

THESE articles Mr. Hamilton acknowledged to be true, in consequence of which he was immedi|ately condemned to be burnt; and that his condem|nation might have the greater authority, they cau|sed it to be subscribed by all those of any note who were present, and to make the number as conside|rable as possible, even admitted the subscription of boys who were sons of the nobility.

SO anxious was this bigotted and persecuting pre|late for the destruction of Mr. Hamilton, that he ordered his sentence to be put in execution on the afternoon of the very day it was pronounced. He was accordingly led to the place appointed for the horrid tragedy, and was attended by a prodigious number of spectators. The greatest part of the multitude would not believe it was intended he should be put to death, but that it was only done to frighten him, and thereby bring him over to em|brace the principles of the Romish religion. But they soon found themselves mistaken.

WHEN he arrived at the stake he kneeled down,

and, for some time, prayed with great fervency. After this he was fastened to a stake, and the fag|••••ts placed round him. A quantity of gunpowder having been fastened under his arms, was first set on fire, which scorched his left hand and one side of his face, but did no material injury, neither did it communicate with the fa••gots. In consequence ••f this, more powder and combustible matter was brought, which being set on fire took effect, and the faggots being kindled, he called out, with an audible voice, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit! How long shall darkness overwhelm this realm? And how long wilt thou suffer the tyranny of these men?"

THE fire burning slow put him to great torment; but be bore it with christian magnanimity. What gave him the greatest pain was, the clamour of s••me wicked men set on by the friars, who frequent|ly cried, "Turn, thou heretic; call upon our lady; say, Salve Regina, &c." To whom he replied, "Depart from me, and trouble me not, ye messen|gers of satan." One Campbell, a friar, who was the ringleader, still continuing to interrupt him by opprobrious language; he said to him, "Wicked m••n, God forgive thee." After which, being pre|vented from farther speech by the violence of the smoke, and the rapidity of the flames, he resigned up his soul into the hands of him who gave it.

THIS stedfast believer in Christ suffered martyr|dom in the year 1527.

ONE Henry Forest, a young inoffensive Bene|dictine, being charged with speaking respectfully of the above Patrick Hamilton, was thrown into pri|son; and, in confessing himself to a friar, owned that he thought Hamilton a good man; and that the articles for which he was sentenced to die, might ••e defended. This being revealed by the friar, it was received as evidence; and the poor benedictine was sentenced to be burnt.

WHILST consultation was held, with regard to the manner of his execution, John Lindsay, one of the archbishop's gentlemen, offered his advice, to burn friar Forest in some cellar; for, said he, the smoke of Patrick Hamilton hath infected all those o•• whom it blew.

THIS advice was taken, and the poor victim was rather suffocated than burnt.

THE next who fell victims for professing the truth of the gospel were, David Stratton and Norman Gourlay.

WHEN they arrived at the fatal spot, they both kneeled down, and prayed for some time, with great fervency. They then arose, when Stratton, addressing himself to the spectators, exhorted them to lay aside their superstitious and idolatrous notions, and employ their time in seeking the true light of the gospel. He would have said more, but was prevented by the officers who attended.

THEIR sentence was then put into execution, and they chearfully resigned up their souls to that God who gave them, hoping, through the merits of the great Redeemer, for a glorious resurrection to life immortal.—They suffered in the year 1534.

THE martyrdoms of the two before-mentioned persons were soon followed by that of Mr. Thomas Forret, who, for a considerable time, had been dean of the Romish church; Killor and Beverage, two blacksmiths; Duncan Simson, a priest; and Robert Forrester, a gentleman. They were all burnt toge|ther, on the Castle-hill at Edinburgh, the last day of February, 1538.

THE year following the martyrdoms of the before-mentioned persons, viz. 1539, two others were ap|prehended on a suspicion of heresy; namely, Jerom Russel, and Alexander Kennedy, a youth about eighteen years of age.

THESE two persons, after being some time confin|ed in prison, were brought before the archbishop for examination. In the course of which Russel, being a very sensible man, reasoned learnedly against his ac|cusers; while they in return made use of very op|probrious language.

THE examination being over, and both of them deemed heretics, the archbishop pronounced the dreadful sentence of death, and they were immedi|ately delivered over to the secular power in order for execution.

THE next day they were led to the place ap|pointed for them to suffer; in their way to which Russel, seeing his fellow-sufferer have the appear|ance of timidity in his countenance, thus addressed him: "Brother, fear not; greater is he that is in us, than he that is in the world. The pain that we are to suffer is short, and shall be light; but our joy and consolation shall never have an end. Let us, therefore, strive to enter into our Master and Saviour's joy, by the same strait way which he hath taken before us. Death cannot hurt us, for it is already destroyed by him, for whose sake we are now going to suffer.

WHEN they arrived at the fatal spot, they both kneeled down and prayed for some time; after which, being fastened to the stake, and the faggots lighted, they chearfully resigned their souls into the hands of him who gave them, in full hopes of an everlasting reward in the heavenly mansions.

IN 1543, the archbishop of St. Andrew's made a visitation into various parts of his diocese, when several persons were informed against at Perth for heresy. Among these the following were con|demned to die, viz. William Anderson, Robert Lamb, James Finlayson, James Hunter, James Raveleson, and Helen Stark,

THE accusations laid against these respective per|sons were as follow:

THE four first were accused of having hung up the image of sir Francis, nailing rams horns on his head, and fastening a cow's tail on his rump; but the principal matter on which they were condemn|ed was, having regaled themselves with a goose on a fast day.

JAMES RAVELESON was accused of having orna|mented his house with the three crowned diadem of Peter, carved in wood, which the archbishop con|ceived to be done in mockery to his cardinal's cap.

HELEN STARK was accused of not having ac|customed herself to pray to the virgin Mary, more especially during the time she was in child|bed.

ON these respective accusations they were all found guilty, and immediately received sentence of death; the four men for eating the goose to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hanged; James Raveleson to be burnt; and the woman, with her sucking infant, to be put into •• sack, and drowned.

THE four men, with the woman and child, suff••••|ed at the same time; but James Raveleson was not executed till some days after.

BESIDES the above-mentioned persons, many others were cruelly persecuted, some being bani••••|ed, and others being confined in loathsome d••••|geons. Among whom were Mr. John Knox, the celebrated Scottish reformist; and John Rogers, a pious and learned man, who was murdered in 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and his body thrown over the walls into the street; after which a report was spread, 〈…〉〈…〉 had met with his death by attempting to make his escape.

An account of the Life, Sufferings, and Death of Mr. GEORGE WISHART, who was strangled, and afterwards burned, in Scotland, for professing the Truth of the Gospel.

MR. GEORGE WISHART was born in Scotland, and after receiving a grammatical education at a private school, he left that place, and finished his studies at the university of Cam|bridge.

IN order to improve himself as much as possible in the knowledge of literature, he travelled into various parts abroad, where he distinguished him|self for his great learning and abilities, both in phi|losophy and divinity.

AFTER being some time abroad he returned to England, and took up his residence at Cambridge, where he was admitted a member of Bennet ••l|lege. Having taken up his degrees, he entered into holy orders, and expounded the gospel in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 clear and intelligible a manner, as highly to delight his numerous auditors.

BEING desirous of propagating the true gospel in his own country, he left Cambridge in 1544, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his arrival in Scotland he first preached at Mon|••••se, and afterwards at Dundee. In this last place 〈◊〉〈◊〉 made a public exposition of the epistle to the Romans, which he went through with such grace and freedom, as greatly alarmed the papists.

IN consequence of this, (at the instigation of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Beaton, the archbishop of St. Andrew's) one ••••bert Miln, a principal man at Dundee, went to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 church where Wishart preached, and in the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of his discourse publicly told him not to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the town any more, for he was determined 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to suffer it.

THIS sudden rebuff greatly surprized Wishart, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, after a short pause, looking sorrowfully on the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and the audience, said, "God is my 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that I never minded your trouble but your 〈◊〉〈◊〉; yea, your trouble is more grievous to me 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it is to yourselves: but I am assured, to refuse God's word, and to chase from you his messenger, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not preserve you from trouble, but shall bring 〈◊〉〈◊〉 into it: for God shall send you ministers that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 neither fear burning nor banishment. I have 〈◊〉〈◊〉 you the word of salvation. With the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of my life I have remained among you: now 〈◊〉〈◊〉 yourselves refuse me; and I must leave my 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to be declared by my God. If it be long prosperous with you, I am not led by the spirit of 〈◊〉〈◊〉: but if unlooked-for trouble come upon you, ••••••••owledge the cause, and turn to God, who is 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and merciful. But if you turn not at the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 warning, he will visit you with fire and sword." At the close of this speech he left the pulpit, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

AFTER this he went into the west of Scotland, ••here he preached God's word, which was gladly 〈◊〉〈◊〉 by many.

A short time after this Mr. Wishart received 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that the plague was broke out in Dun••d••••. It began four days after he was prohibited 〈◊〉〈◊〉 preaching there, and raged so extremely▪ that it was almost beyond credit how many died in the space of 24 hours. This being related to him, he, notwithstanding the importunity of his friends to detain him, determined to go there, saying, "They are now in troubles, and need comfort. Perhaps this hand of God will make them now to magnify and reverence the word of God, which before they lightly esteemed."

HERE he was with joy received by the godly. He chose the east-gate for the place of his preach|ing; so that the healthy were within, and the sick without the gate. He took his text from these words, "He sent his word and healed them," &c. In this sermon he chiefly dwelt upon the advantage and comfort of God's word, the judgments that ensue upon the contempt or rejection of it, the free|dom of God's grace to all his people, and the hap|piness of those of his elect, whom he takes to himself out of this miserable world. The hearts of his hearers were so raised by the divine force of this discourse, as not to regard death, but to judge them the more happy who should then be called, not knowing whether they might have such a comforter again with them.

AFTER this the plague abated; though, in the midst of it, Wishart constantly visited those that lay in the greatest extremity, and comforted them by his exhortations.

WHEN he took his leave of the people of Dun|dee, he said, "That God had almost put an end to that plague, and that he was now called to another place."

HE went from thence to Montrose, where he sometimes preached, but spent most of his time in private meditation and prayer.

IT is said, that before he left Dundee, and while he was engaged in the labours of love to the bodies, as well as to the soul••, of those poor afflicted people, cardinal Beaton engaged a desperate popish priest, called John Weighton, to kill him; the attempt to execute which was as follows: one day, after Wis|hart had finished his sermon, and the people de|parted, the priest stood waiting at the bottom of the stairs, with a naked dagger in his hand under his gown. But Mr. Wishart having a sharp, piercing eye, and seeing the priest as he came from the pulpit, said to him, "My friend, what

would you have?" and immediately clapping his hand upon the dagger, took it from him. The priest being terrified, fell on his knees, confessed his intention, and craved pardon. A noise being hereupon raised, and it coming to the ears of those who were sick, they cried, "Deliver the traitor to us, we will take him by force; and they burst in at the gate. But Wishart, taking the priest in his arms, said, Whatsoever hurts him shall hurt me; for he hath done me no mischief, but much good, by teaching more heedfulness for the time to come." By this conduct he appeased the people, and saved the life of the wicked priest.

SOON after his return to Montrose, the cardinal again conspired his death, causing a letter to be sent to him as if it had been from his familiar friend, the laird of Kinni••r, in which he was desired with all possible speed to come to him, because he was taken with a sudden sickness. In the mean time the cardinal had provided sixty men armed, to lie in wait within a mile and a half of Montrose, in order to murder him as he passed that way.

THE letter coming to Wishart's hand by a boy, who also brought him a horse for the journey, Wis|hart, accompanied by some honest men, his friends, set forward; but something particular striking his mind by the way, he returned back, which they wondering at, asked him the cause; to whom he said, "I will not go; I am forbidden of God; I am assured there is treason. Let some of you go to yonder place, and tell me what you find." Which doing, they made the discovery▪ and hastily return|ing, they told Mr. Wishart: whereupon he said, "I know I shall end my life by that blood-thirsty man's hands, but it will not be in this manner."

A short time after this he left Montrose, and pro|ceeded to Edinburgh, in order to propagate the gospel in that city. By the way he lodged with a faithful brother, called James Watson, of Inner-Goury. In the middle of the night he got up, and went into the yard, which two men hearing, they privately followed him.

WHILE in the yard, he fell on his knees, and prayed for some time with the greatest fervency; after which he arose, and returned to his bed. Those who attended him, appearing as though they were ignorant of all, came and asked him where he had been? But he would not answer them. The next day they importuned him to tell them, saying, "Be plain with us, for we heard your mourning, and saw your gestures."

ON this he, with a dejected countenance, said, "I had rather you had been in your beds." But they still pressing upon him to know something, he said, "I will tell you; I am assured that my war|fare is near at an end, and therefore pray to God with me, that I shrink not when the battle wax•••••• most hot."

SOON after, cardinal Beaton, archbishop of St. Andrew's, being informed that Mr. Wish••rt 〈◊〉〈◊〉 at the house of Mr. Cockburn, of Ormiston, in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Lothian, he applied to the regent to cause him 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he apprehended; with which, after great 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and much against his will, he complied.

IN consequence of this the cardinal immediately proceeded to the trial of Wishart, against whom 〈◊〉〈◊〉 less than 18 articles were exhibited. Mr. Wisha•••• answered the respective articles with the greatest composure of mind, and in so learned and clear a manner, as greatly surprized most of those who were present.

AFTER the examination was finished, the arch|bishop endeavoured to prevail on Mr. Wishart 〈◊〉〈◊〉 recant; but he was too firmly fixed in his religi•••••• principles, and too much enlightened with the truth of the gospel, to be in the least moved.

ON the morning of his execution there came to him two friars from the cardinal; one of whom put on him a black linen coat, and the other brought several bags of gunpowder, which they tied about different parts of his body.

AS soon as he arrived at the stake, the execu|tioner put a rope round his neck, and a chain about his middle; upon which he fell on his knees, and thus exclaimed:

"O thou Saviour of the world, have mercy up|on me! Father of heaven, I commend my ••pirit into thy holy hands."

AFTER this he prayed for his accusers, saying, "I beseech thee, Father of heaven, forgive them that have, from ignorance, or an evil mind, forged 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of me: I forgive them with all my heart. I beseech Christ to forgive them, that have ignorantly ••••••demned me."

HE was then fastened to the stake, and the fag|gots being lighted, immediately set fire to the pow|d•••• that was tied about him, and which blew into a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and smoke.

THE governor of the castle, who stood so near 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he was singed with the flame, exhorted our ••••rtyr, in a few words, to be of good cheer, and to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 pardon of God for his offences. To which he 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ "This flame occasions trouble to my body, ••••deed, but it hath in no wise broken my spirit. ••••t he who now so proudly looks down upon me 〈◊〉〈◊〉 yonder lofty place, (pointing to the cardinal) 〈◊〉〈◊〉, ere long, be as ignominiously thrown down, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 now he proudly lolls at his ease." Which pre|••••ction was soon after fulfilled. The executioner 〈◊〉〈◊〉 pulled the rope which was tied about his neck 〈◊〉〈◊〉 great violence, so that he was soon strangled; and the fire getting strength, burnt with such rapi|••••••y that in less than an hour his body was totally consumed.

THE next person who fell a martyr to popish ••••gotry, was one Adam Wallace, of Winton, in East-Lothian, who having obtained a true know|••••dge of the gospel of Christ, spent the gr••••ter part of his time in endeavouring to propagate it among his fellow-creatures.

HIS conduct being noticed by some bigoted pa|pists, an information was laid against him for heresy, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 which he was apprehended, and committed to prison.

AFTER examination, sentence of death was passed upon him as an heretic; and he was immediately d••livered over to the secular power, in order for ••••ecution.

IN the evening of the same day, Wallace was vi••••ited by several Romish priests, who endeavoured 〈◊〉〈◊〉 prevail on him to recant; but he stood so sted|fast in the faith he professed, and used such ••orcible arguments in vindication of the true gospel, that they left him with some wrath, saying, "He was too abandoned to receive any impression."

THE next morning he was conducted to the Castle-hill at Edinburgh, when, being chained to the stake, and the faggots lighted, he chearfully resigned up his soul into the hands of him who gave it, in full assurance of receiving a crown of glory in the heavenly mansions.

THE last who suffered martyrdom in Scotland, for the cause of Christ, was one Walter Mill, who was burnt at Edinburgh in the year 1558.

THIS person, in his younger years, had travelled into Germany, and on his return was installed a priest of the church of Lunan in Angus; but, on an information of heresy, in the time of cardinal Beaton, he was forced to abandon his charge, and abscond. But he was soon apprehended▪ and com|ted to prison.

BEING interrogated by sir Andrew Oliphant, whether he would recant his opinions, he answer|ed in the negative, saying, "He would sooner for|feit ten thousand lives, than relinquish a particle of those heavenly principles he had received from the suffrages of his blessed Redeemer.

IN consequence of this, sentence of condemnation was immediately passed on him, and he was con|ducted to prison in order for execution the follow|ing day.

THIS stedfast believer in Christ was 82 years of age, and exceeding infirm; from whence it was supposed, that he could scarcely be heard. How|ever, when he was led to the place of execution, he expressed his religious sentiments with such courage, and at the same time composure of mind, as aston|ished even his enemies. As soon as he was fasten|ed to the stake, and the faggots lighted, he addressed the spectators as follows:

THE cause why I suffer this day is not for any crime, (though I acknowledge myself a miserable sinner), but only for the defence of truth as it is in

Jesus Christ; and I praise God who hath called me, by his mercy, to seal the truth with my life; which, as I received it from him, so I willingly offer it up to his glory. Therefore, as you would escape eternal death, be no longer seduced by the lies of the seat of antichrist; but depend solely on Jesus Christ, and his mercy, that you may be delivered from condemnation. And then added, "That he trust|ed he should be the last who would suffer death in Scotland, upon a religious account."

Thus did this pious christian chearfully give up his life, in defence of the truth of Christ's gospel, not doubting but he should be made a partaker of his heavenly kingdom.

An Account of the Persecutions against the Protestants in Ireland, distinguished by the Name of THE IRISH MASSACRE.

THOUGH the various attempts made by the Irish against the English usually go under the denomination of rebellion, yet they more properly deserve the epithet of persecution, as all their de|structive efforts were particularly levelled at the protestants only, whom they were determined, if possible, totally to extirpate from the kingdom. They had, indeed, hitherto miscarried; but they at length hit upon a project that succeeded to their wishes, and produced a catastrophe that will remain in characters of blood to the latest posterity.

THAT the Romish clergy of Ireland were the principal fomenters of the rebellions in that king|dom, already mentioned, is particularly evident from their treacherous and disloyal behaviour un|der queen Elizabeth and king James I. they conti|nually urging to the people the lawfulness of killing all protestants, who supported the right of the crown of England to Ireland; and assuring them, that all papists who should die fighting against the protest|ants, would go immediately to heaven.

THESE Irish ecclesiastics, under Charles I. were greatly increased by titular Romish archbishops, bishops, deans, vicars-general, abbots, priests, and friars; for which reason, in 1629, the public exer|cise of the popish rites and ceremonies was forbid|den.

BUT notwithstanding this, soon after the Romish clergy erected a new popish university in the city of Dublin. They also proceeded to build monasteries and nunneries in various parts of the kingdom; in which places these very Romish clergy, and the chief of the Irish, had frequent meetings; and, from thence, used to pass, to and fro, to France, Spain, Flanders, Lorrain, and Rome; where the detestable plot of 1641 was hatching by the family of the O'Neals, and their followers.

A short time before the horrid conspiracy broke out, which we are now going to relate, the papists of Ireland had presented a remonstrance to the lords-justice of that kingdom, demanding the free exer|cise of their religion, and a repeal of all laws to the contrary; to which both houses of parliament in En|gland solemnly answered, that they would never grant any toleration to the popish religion in that kingdom.

THIS farther irritated the papists to put in execu|tion the diabolical plot concerted for the destruction of the protestants; and it failed not of the success wished for by its malicious and rancorous projectors.

THE design of this horrid conspiracy was, that a general insurrection should take place at the same time throughout the kingdom; and that all the pro|testants, without exception, should be murdered. The day fixed for this horrid massacre was, the 23d of October, 1641, the feast of Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the jesuits; and the chief conspirators, in the principal parts of the kingdom, made the ne|cessary preparations for the intended conflict.

IN order that this detested scheme might the more infallibly succeed, the most distinguished arti|fices were practised by the papists; and their beha|viour, in their visits to the protestants, at this time, was with more seeming kindness than they had hi|therto shewn, which was done the more completely to effect the inhuman and treacherous designs then meditating against them.

THE execution of this savage conspiracy was de|layed till the approach of winter, that the sending

troops from England might be attended with great|er difficulty. Cardinal Richlieu, the French mini|ster, had promised the conspirators a considerable supply of men and money; and many Irish officers had given the strongest assurances, that they would heartily concur with their catholic brethren, as soon as the insurrection appeared.

THE day preceding that appointed for carrying this horrid design into execution was now arrived, when, happily for the metropolis of the kingdom, the conspiracy was discovered by one Owen O'Con|nelly, an Irishman, for which most signal service the English parliament voted him 500l. and a pension of 200l. during his life.

SO very seasonably was this plot discovered, even but a few hours before the city and castle of Dublin were to have been surprized, that the lords-justices had but just time to put themselves, and the city, in a proper posture of defence. The lord M^cGuire, who was the principal leader here, with his accom|plices, were seized the same evening in the city: and in their lodgings were found swords, hatchets, pole-axes, hammers, and such other instruments of death as had been prepared for the destruction and extirpation of the protestants in that part of the kingdom.

THUS was the metropolis happily preserved; but the bloody part of the intended tragedy was past prevention. The conspirators were all in arms all over the kingdom early in the morning of the day appointed, and every protestant who fell in their way was immediately murdered. No age, no sex, no condition was spared. The wife weeping for her butchered husband, and embracing her helpless children, was pierced with them, and perished by the same stroke. The old, the young, the vigo|rous, and infirm, underwent the same fate, and were blended in one common ruin. In vain did flight save them from the first assault: destruction was e|very where let loose, and met the hunted victims at every turn. In vain was recourse had to relations, to companions, to friends: all connections were dissolved, and death was dealt by that hand from which protection was implored and expected. Without provocation, without opposition, the asto|nished English▪ living in profound peace, and, as they though••, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 security, were massacred by their nearest neighbours, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 whom they had l••ng main|tained a continued intercourse of kindness and good offices. Nay, even death was the slightest punish|ments in human form: all the tortures which wan|ton cruelty could invent, all the lingering pains of body, the anguish of mind, the agonies of despair, could not satiate revenge excited without injury, and cruelly derived from no cause whatever. De|praved nature, even perverted religion, though en|couraged by the utmost licence, cannot reach to a greater pitch of ferocity than appeared in these merciless barbarians. Even the weaker sex them|selves, naturally tender to their own sufferings, and compassionate to those of others, here emulated their robust companions in the practice of every cruelty. The very children, taught by example, and encouraged by the exhortation of their parents, dealt their feeble blows on the dead carcases of the defenceless children of the English.

NOR was the avarice of the Irish sufficient to produce the least restraint on their cruelty. Such was their frenzy, that the cattle they had seized, and by rapine had made their own, were, be|cause they bore the name of English, wantonly slaughtered, or, when covered with wounds, turned loose into the woods, there to perish by slow and lingering torments.

THE commodious habitations of the planters were laid in ashes, or levelled with the ground. And where the wretched owners had shut themselves up in the houses, and were preparing for defence, they perished in the flames, together with their wives and children.

SUCH is the general description of this unparal|lelled massacre; but it now remains from the na|ture of our work, that we proceed to particulars.

THE bigoted and merciless papists had no sooner began to imbrue their hands in blood, than they re|peated the horrid tragedy day after day; and the pro|testants in all parts of the kingdom ••ell victims to their fury by deaths of the most unheard-of nature.

THE ignorant Irish were more strongly instigated to execute the infernal business by the jesuits, priests, and friars, who, when the day for the execution of the plot was agreed on, recommended, in their prayers, diligence in the great design, which they said would greatly tend to the prosperity of the king|dom, and to the advancement of the catholic cause. They every where declared ••o the common people,

that the protestants were heretics, and ought not to be suffered to live any longer among them; adding that it was no more a sin to kill an Englishman than to kill a dog; and that the relieving or pro|tecting them was a crime of the most unpardonable nature.

THE papists having besieged the town and castle of Longford, and the inhabitants of the latter, who were protestants, surrendering on condition of be|ing allowed quarter, the besiegers, the instant the towns-people appeared, attacked them in the most unmerciful manner, their priest, as a signal for the rest to fall on, first ripping open the belly of the English protestant minister; after which his followers mur|dered all the rest, some of whom they hung, others were stabbed or shot, and great numbers knocked on the head with axes provided for the purpose.

THE garrison at Sligo was treated in like man|ner by O'Connor Slygah; who, upon the protes|tants quitting their holds, promised them quarter, and to convey them safe over the Curlew mountains, to Roscommon. But he first imprisoned them in a most loathsome gaol, allowing them only grains for their food. Afterwards, when some papists were merry over their cups, who were come to congratulate their wicked brethren for their victory over these unhappy creatures, those protestants who survived were brought forth by the White-friars, and were either killed, or precipitated over the bridge into a swift water, where they were soon destroyed. It is added, that this wicked company of White-friars went some time after, in solemn procession, with holy water in their hands, to sprinkle the river, on pretence of cleansing and purifying it from the stains and pollution of the blood and dead bodies of the heretics, as they called the unfortunate protestants who were inhumanly slaughtered at this very time.

AT Kilmore, Dr. Bedell, bishop of that see▪ had charitably settled and supported a great number of distressed protestants, who had fled from their ha|bitations to escape the diabolical cruelties commit+ted by the papists. But they did not long en••oy the consolation of living together▪ the good pr••…lite was forcibly dragged from his episcopal resi|dence, which was immediately occupied by Dr. 〈…〉〈…〉 p••pish titular bishop of ••••lmore, who said mass in the church the Sunday following, and then seized on all the goods aad effects belonging to the persecuted bishop.

SOON after this the papists forced Dr. Bedell, his two sons, and the rest of his family, with some of the chief of the protestants whom he had protec|ted, into a ruinous castle, called Lochwater, situa|ted in a lake near the sea. Here he remained with his companions some weeks, all of them daily ex|pecting to be put to death. The greatest part of them were stripped naked, by which means, as the season was cold, (it being the month of December) and the building in which they were confined open at the top, they suffered the most severe hardships.

THEY continued in this situation till the 7th of January, when they were all released. The bishop was courteously received into the house of Dennis O'Sheridan, one of his clergy, whom he had made a convert to the church of England; but he did not long survive this kindness.

DURING his residence here, he spent the whole of his time in religious exercises, the better to fit and prepare himself, and his sorrowful companions, for their great change, as nothing but certain death was perpetually before their eyes.

HE was at this time in the 71st year of his age, and being afflicted with a violent ague caught in his late cold and desolate habitation on the lake, it soon threw him into a fever of the most dangerous nature. Finding his dissolution at hand, he received it with joy, like one of the primitive martyrs just hastening to his crow•• of glory.

AFTER address••ing his little flock, and exhorting them to patience, in the most pathetic manne••, as they saw their own last day approaching: after hav|ing solemnly blessed his people, his family and his children, he finish••d the course of his ministry and life together, on the 7th 〈…〉〈…〉, ••••42.

HIS friends and relations applied to th•• in••••ud••ng bishop, for leave to 〈…〉〈…〉 diffi…culty obtained▪ he, at 〈…〉〈…〉▪ that the church yard was holy ground, and should 〈…〉〈…〉 longer defiled with heretic••: however, 〈…〉〈…〉

[figure]

A Representation of the principal Scenes in the ••loody IRISH MASSACRE committed Oct. 23 1641 wherein up••••rds of 40000 PROTESTANT were inhumanly Sacrificed by the PAPISTS in the Reign of Charles I.

last granted, and though the church funeral service was not used at the solemnity, (for fear of the Irish papists) yet some of the better sort, who had the highest veneration for him when living, attended his remains to the grave. At his interment, they discharged a volley of shot, crying out, Requiescat in pace ultimus Anglorum: that is, "May the last of the English rest in peace." Adding, that as he was one of the best, so he should be the last English bishop found among them.

HIS learning was very extensive; and he would have given the world a greater proof of it, had he printed all he wrote. Scarce any of his writings were saved; the papists having destroyed most of his papers, and his library.

HE had gathered a vast heap of critical expositions of scripture, all which, with a great trunk full of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 manuscripts, fell into the hands of the Irish. ••••ppily his Hebrew MS. was preserved, and is 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the library of Emanuel-College, Oxford.

IN the barony of Terawley, the papists, at the ••••stigation of their friars, compelled above 40 En|glish protestants, some of whom were women and children, to the hard fate either of falling by the sword, or of being drowned in the sea. These chu|sing the latter, were accordingly forced, by the na|ked weapons of their inexorable persecutors, into the deep, where, with their children in their arms, they first waded up to their chins, and afterwards sunk down and perished together.

IN the castle of Lisgool upwards of 150 men, women, and children, were all burnt together; and at the castle of Moneah not less than 100 were all put to the sword. Great numbers were also mur+dererd at the castle of Tullah, which was delivered up to M^cGuire on condition of having fair quarter; but no sooner had that base villain got possession of the place, than he ordered his followers to murder the people, which was immediately done with the greatest cruelty.

MANY others were put to deaths of the most horrid nature, and such as could have been invented only by daemons instead of men.

SOME of them were laid with the center of their backs on the axle-tree of a carriage, with their legs resting on the ground on one side, and their arms and head on the other. In this position one of the savages scourged the wretched object on the thighs, legs, &c. while another set on furious dogs, who tore to pieces the arms and upper parts of the bo|dy; and in this dreadful manner were they depri|ved of their existence.

GREAT numbers were fastened to horses tails, and the beasts being set on full gallop by their ri|ders, the wretched victims were dragged along till they expired.

OTHERS were hung on lofty gibbets, and a fire being kindled under them, they finished their lives, partly by hanging, and partly by suffocation.

NOR did the more tender sex escape the least par|ticle of cruelty that could be projected by their mer|ciless and furious persecutors. Many wome••▪ of all ages, were put to deaths of the most cruel na|ture. Some in particular were fastend to strong posts, and being stripped to their waists, the inhu|man monsters cut off their right breasts with shears, which, of course, put them to the most excruciating torments; and in this position they were left till, from the loss of blood, they expired.

SUCH was the savage ferocity of these barbarians, that even unborn infants were dragged from the womb to become victims to their rage. Many un|happy mothers, were hung naked on the branches of trees, and their bodies being cut open, the innocent offsprings were taken from them, and thrown to dogs and swine. And to increase the horrid scene, they would oblige the husband to be a spectator before he suffered himself.

AT the town of Lissenskeath they hanged above 100 Scottish protestants, shewing them no more mercy then they did to the English.

M^cGUIRE, going to the castle of that town, desired to speak with the governor, when be|ing admitted, he immediately burnt the records of the county, which were kept there. He then demanded 1000l. of the governor, which ha|ving

received, he immediately compelled him to hear mass, and to swear that he would continue so to do. And to complete his horrid barbarities, he ordered the wife and children of the governor to be hung up before his face; besides massacring at least 100 of the inhabitants.

UPWARDS of a thousand men, women, and chil|dren, were driven, in different companies, to Por|tendown bridge, which was broken down in the middle, and there compelled to throw themselves into the water; and such as attempted to reach the shore were knocked on the head.

IN the same part of the country, at least four thousand persons were drowned in different places. The inhuman papists, after first stripping them, drove them like beasts to the spot fixed on for their destruction; and if any, through fatigue, or natural infirmities, were slack in their pace, they pricked them with their swords and pikes; and to strike a farther terror on the multitude, they murdered some by the way. Many of these poor wretches, when thrown into the water, endeavoured to save themselves by swimming to the shore; but their merciless persecutors prevented their endeavours ta|king effect, by shooting them in the water.

IN one place one hundred and forty English, af|ter being driven for many miles stark naked, and in the most severe weather, were all murdered on the same spot, some being hanged, others burnt, some shot, and many of them buried alive; and so cruel were their tormentors, that they would not suffer them to pray before they robbed them of their miserable existence.

OTHER companies they took under pretence of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••onduct, who, from that consideration, proceed|ed chearfully on their journey; but when the treache|rous papists had go•• them to a convenient spot, they butchered them all in the most cruel manner.

ONE hundred and fifteen men, women, and chil|dren, were conducted by order of sir Phelim O, Neal, to Porte••down bridge, where they were all forced into the river, and drowned. One woman, named Campbel, fi••ding no probability of escaping, sudden|ly clasped a papist chief in her arms, and held him so fast, that they were both drowned together.

IN Killoman they massacred forty-eight families, among whom twenty-two were burnt together in one house. The rest were either hanged, shot, or drowned.

IN Kilmore the inhabitants, which consisted of about two hundred families, all fell victims to their rage. Some of them sat in the stocks till they con|fessed where their money was; after which they put them to death. The whole county was one common scene of butchery, and many thousands perished in a short time by sword, famine, fire, water, and all other the most cruel deaths, that rage and malice could invent.

THESE bloody villains dispatched some immedi|ately; but would by no means suffer them to pray. Others they imprisoned in filthy dungeons, putting heavy bolts on their legs, and keeping them there till they were starved to death.

AT Casel they put all the protestants into a loath|some dungeon, where they kept them together, for several weeks, in the greatest misery. At length they were released, when some of them were barba|rously mangled, and left on the highways to perish at leisure; others were hanged, and some were bu|ried in the ground upright, with their heads above the earth, the papists, to increase their misery, treat|ing them with derision during their sufferings.

IN the county of Antrim they murdered nine hun|dred and fifty-four protestants in one morning; and afte••wards about twelve hundred more in that county.

AT a town called Lisnegary, they forced twenty|four protestants into a house, and then setting fire to it, burned them together, counterfeiting their outcries in derision to others.

AMONG other acts of cruelty, they took two chil|dren belonging to an English woman, and dashed out their brains before her face; after which they threw the mother into a river, and she was drowned. They served many children in the like manner, to the great affliction of their parents, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 disgrace of human nature.

IN Kilkenny all the protestants, without excepti|on, were put to death; and some of them in so cruel a manner, as perhaps, was never before thought of.

THEY beat an English woman with such savage barbarity, that she had scarce a whole bone left; af|ter which they threw her in a ditch; but not satisfied with this, they took her child, a girl about six years of age, and after ripping up its belly, threw it to its mother, there to languish till it perished.

THEY forced one man to go to mass, after which they ripped open his body, and in that manner left him. They sawed another asunder, cut the throat of his wife, and after having dashed out the brains of their child, an infant, threw it to the swine, who greedily devoured it.

AFTER committing these, and many other horrid cruelties, they took the heads of seven protestants, and among them that of a pious minister, all which they fixed up at the market cross. They put a gag into the minister's mouth, then slit his cheeks to his ears, and laying a leaf of a bible before it, bid him preach, for his mouth was wide enough. They did several other things by way of derision, and ex|pressed the greatest satisfaction at having thus mur|dered, and exposed the unhappy protestants.

IT is impossible to conceive the pleasure these monsters took in exercising ••heir cruelty, and to in|crease the misery of those who fell into their hands, when they butchered them they would say, "Your soul to the devil."

ON•• of these miscreants would come into a house with his hands imbrued in blood, and boast that it was English blood, and that his sword had pricked the white skins of the protestants, even to the ••ilts.

WHEN any one of them had killed a protestant, others would come and receive a gratification in cut|ting and mangling the body: after which they left it exposed to be devoured by d••gs; and when they had slain a number of them they would boast that the devil was beholden to them for sending so many souls to hell.

BUT it is no wonder they should thus treat the innocent christians, when they hesitated not to com|mit blasphemy against God, and his most holy word.

IN one place they burnt two protestant bibles, and then said they had burnt hell-fire. In the church at Powerscourt they burnt the pulpit, pews, chests, and bibles belonging to it. They took other bibles, and after wetting them with dirty water, dashed them in the faces of the protestants, saying, "We know you love a good lesson; here is an excellent one for you; come to-morrow, and you shall have as good a sermon as this."

SOME of the protestants they dragged by the hair of their heads into the church, where they stripped and whipped them in the most cruel manner, tell|ing them, at the same time, "That if they came to-morrow, they should hear the like sermon."

IN Munster they put to death several ministers in the most shocking manner. One, in particular, they stripped stark naked, and driving him before them, pricked him with swords and darts till he fell down and expired.

IN some places they plucked out the eyes, and cut off the hands of the protestants, and in that manner turned them into the fields, there to wan|der out their miserable existence.

THEY obliged many young men to force their aged parents to a river, where they were drowned: wives to assist in hanging their husbands; and mo|thers to cut the throats of their children.

IN one place they compelled a young man to kill his father, and then immediately hanged him. In another, they forced a woman to kill her husband, then obliged the son to kill her, and afterwards shot him through the head.

AT a place called Glaslow, a popish priest, with some others, prevailed on forty protestants to be reconciled to the church of Rome. They had no sooner done this, than they told them they were in a good faith, and that they would prevent their falling from it, and turning heretics, by sending them out of the world, which they did by imme|diately cutting their throats.

IN the county of Tipperary upwards of thirty protestants, men, women, and children, fell into the hands of the papists, who, after stripping them naked, murdered them with stones, pole-axes, swords, and other weapons.

IN the county of Mayo about sixty protestants, fifteen of whom were ministers, were, upon cove|nant, to be safely conducted to Galway, by one Ed|mond Burke and his soldiers; but the inhuman monster by the way drew his sword as an intimation of his design to the rest, who immediately followed his example, and murdered the whole, some of whom they stabbed, others were run through the body with pikes, and several were drowned.

IN Queen's county great numbers of protestants were put to the most shocking deaths. Fifty or sixty were placed together in one house, which be|ing set on fire, they all perished in the flames.

MANY were stripped naked, and being fastened to horses by ropes placed ••ound their middles, were dragged through bogs till they expired.

SOME were hung by the feet to tenter-hooks dri|ven into poles; and in that wretched posture left till they perished.

OTHERS were fastened to the trunk of a tree, with a branch at top. Over this branch hung one arm, which principally supported the weight of the body; and one of the legs was turned up, and fast|ened to the trunk, while the other hung strait. In this dreadful and uneasy posture did they remain, pleasing spectacles to their blood-thirsty persecutors, till they expired.

AT Clownes seventeen men were buried alive; and an Englishman, his wife, five children, and a servant maid, were all hung together, and after|wards thrown into a ditch.

THEY hung many by the arms to branches of trees, with a weight to their feet; and others by the middle, in which posture they left them till they expired.

SEVERAL were hung on windmills, and before they were half dead, the barbarians cut them in pieces with their swords. Others, both men, wo|men, and children, they cut and hacked in various parts of their bodies, and left them wallowing in their blood to perish where they fell. One poor woman they hung on a gibbet, with her child, an infant about a twelvemonth old, the latter of whom was hung by the neck with the hair of its mother's head, and in that manner finished its short but miserable existence.

IN the county of Tyrone no less than three hun|dred protestants were drowned in one day; and many others were hanged▪ burned, and otherwise put to death.

DR. MAXWELL, rector of Tyrone, lived at this time near Armagh, and suffered greatly from these merciless savages. This person, in his examina|tion, taken upon oath before the king's commis|sioners, declared, that the Irish papists owned to him, that ••••ey, at several times, had destroyed, in one place, 12,000 protestants, whom they inhuman|ly slaughtered at Glynwood, in their flight from the county of Armagh.

AS the river Bann was not fordable, and the bridge broken down, the Irish forced thither, at different times, a great number of unarmed, de|fenceless protestants, and with pikes and swords violently thrust above one thousand into the river, where they miserably perished.

NOR did the cathedral of Arm••gh escape the fury of these barbarians, it being maliciously set on fire by their leaders, and burnt to the ground. And to extirpate, if possible, the very race of those unhap|py protestants, who lived in or near Armagh, the Irish first burnt all their houses, and then gathered together many hundreds of those innocent people, young and old, on pretence of allowing them a guard and safe conduct to Colerain; when they treacherously fell on them by the way, and inhu|manly murdered them.

THE like horrid barbarities with those we have particularized, were practised on the wretched pro|testants in almost all parts of the kingdom: and, when an e••timate was afterwards made of the num|ber

who were sacrificed to gratify the diabolical souls of the papists, it amounted to one hundred and fifty thousand. But it now remains that we proceed to the particulars that followed.

THESE desperate wretches, flushed and grown in|solent with success, (though by methods attended with such excessive barbarities as perhaps not to be equalled) soon got possession of the castle of Newry, where the king's stores and ammunition were lodg|ed; and, with as little difficulty made themselves masters of Dundalk. They afterwards took the town of Ardee, where they murdered all the pro|testants, and then proceeded to Drogheda. The garrison of Drogheda was in no condition to sustain a siege, notwithstanding which, as often as the Iri••h renewed their attacks they were vigorously repulsed, by a very unequal number of the king's forces, and a few faithful protestant citizens under sir Henry Tichborne, the governor, assisted by the lord vis|count Moore. The siege of Drogheda began on the 30th of November, 1641, and held till the 4th of March, 1642, when sir Phelim O'Neal, and the Irish miscreants under him were forced to retire.

IN the mean time ten thousand troops were sent from Scotland to the relief of the remaining pro|testants in Ireland, which being properly divided in the most capital parts of the kingdom, happily eclipsed the power of the Irish savages; and the protestants, for a time, lived in tranquillity.

IN the reign of king James II. they were again interrupted, for in a parliament held at Dublin in the year 1689, great numbers of the protestant no|bility, clergy, and gentry of Ireland, were attainted of high treason. The government of the kingdom was▪ at that time, invested in the earl of Tyrconnel, a bigoted papist, and an inve••••rate enemy to the protestants. By his orders they were again perse|cuted in various parts of the kingdom. The reve|nues of the city of Dublin were s••••zed▪ and most of the churches converted into prison••. And had it not been for the resolution and uncommon b••a••ery of the 〈…〉〈…〉 the city of Londonder••y, and the town of 〈…〉〈…〉, there 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not o•••• place re|mained for refuge to the distressed protestants in the whole kingdom: but all most have been given up to king James, and to the furious popish party that governed him.

THE remarkable siege of Londonderry was open|ed on the 18th of April, 1689, by twenty thousand papists, the flower of the Irish army. The city was not properly circumstanced to sustain a siege, the defenders consisting of a body of raw undisciplined protestants, who had fled thither for shelter, and half a regiment of lord Mountjoy's disciplined sol|diers, with the principal part of the inhabitants, making in all only seven thousand three hundred and sixty-one fighting men.

THE besieged hoped, at first, that their stores of corn, and other necessaries, would be sufficient; but by the continuance of the siege their wants increas|ed; and these became at last so heavy, that for a considerable time before the siege was raised, a pint of coarse barley, a small quantity of greens, a few spoonfuls of starch, with a moderate proportion of horse flesh, were reckoned a week's provision for a soldier. And they were, at length, reduced to such extremities, that they eat dogs, cats, and mice.

THEIR miseries increasing with the siege, many, through mere hunger and want, pined and languish|ed away, or fell dead in the streets. And it is re|markable, that when their long expected succours arrived from England, they were upon the point of being reduced to this alternative, either to pre|serve their existence by eating each other, or at|tempting to fight their way through the Irish, which must have infallibly produced their destruction.

THESE succours were most happily brought by the ship Mountjoy, of Derry, and the Phoenix, of Colerain, at which time they had only nine lean horses left, with a pint of meal to each man. By hunger, and the fatigues of war, their seven thou|sand three hundred and sixty-one fighting men were reduced to four thousand three hundred, one-fourth part of whom were rendered unserviceable.

AS the calamities of the besieged were very great, so likewise were the terrors and sufferings of their protestant friends and relations; all of whom (even w••men and children) were forcibly driven from the country thirty miles round, and inhumanly reduced

to the sad necessity of continuing some days and nights, without food or covering, before the walls of the town; and were thus exposed to the conti••nual fire both of the Irish army from without, and the shot of their friends from within.

BUT the succours from England happily arriving, put an end to their affliction; and the siege was raised on the 31st of July, having been continued upwards of three months.

THE day before the siege of Londonderry was raised, the Inniskilliners engaged a body of six thou|sand Irish Roman catholics, at Newton Butler, or Crown-Castle, of whom near five thousand were slain. This, with the defeat at Londonderry, dis|pirited the papists, and they gave up all farther at|tempts to persecute the protestants.

THE year following, viz. 1690, the Irish took up arms in favour of the abdicated prince, king James II. but they were totally defeated by his suc|cessor king William the Third. That monarch, before he left the country, reduced them to a state of subjection, in which they have ever since conti|nued; and it is to be hoped will so remain as long as time shall be.

BY a report made in Ireland, in the year 1731, it appeared, that a great number of eclesiastics had, in defiance of the laws, flocked into that kingdom: that several convents had been o••ened by jesuits, monks, and friars: that many new and pompous mass-houses had been erected in some of the most conspicuous parts of their great cities, where there had not been any before; and that such swarms of vagrant, immoral Romish priests had appeared, that the very papists themselves considered them as a burthen.

BUT notwithstanding all this, the protestant in|terest at present stands upon a much stronger basis than it did a century ago. The Irish, who for|merly led an unset••led and roving life, in the woods, bogs, and mountains, and lived on the depredation of their neighbours; they who, in the morning seized the prey, and at night divided the spoil, have, for many years past, become quiet and civilized. They taste the sweets of English society, and the advantages of civil government. They trade in our cities, and are employed in our manufactures. They are received also into English families; and are treated with great humanity by the protes|tants.

THE heads of their clans, and the chiefs of the great Irish families, who cruelly oppressed and ty|rannized over their vassals, are now dwindled, in a great measure, to nothing; and most of the ancient popish nobility and gentry of Ireland have renoun|ced the Romish religion.

IT is also to be hoped, that inestimable benefits will arise from the establishment of protestant schools in various parts of the kingdom, in which the chil|dren of the Roman catholics are instructed in reli|gion and reading, whereby the mist of ignorance is dispelled from their eyes, which was the great source of the cruel transactions that have taken place, at different periods, in that kingdom.

IN order to preserve the protestant interest in Ire|land upon a solid basis, it behoves all in whom that power is invested, to discharge it with the strictest assiduity and attention; for should it once again lose ground, there is no doubt but the papists would take those advantages they have hitherto done, and thousands might yet fall victims to their malicious bigotry.

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MARY I. In who••e Reign the Protestants were so cruelly Burnt and Persecuted She was Proclaimed 〈…〉〈…〉 Died November 17 ••558

THE NEW AND COMPLETE BOOK of MARTYRS; OR, AN Universal History of Martyrdom: BEING FOX'S BOOK OF MARTYRS, Newly Revised and Corrected, with Additions and great Improvements.

BOOK I. CONTAINING A New, Copious, Complete▪ and Universal History of the Lives, Acts, Monuments, Trials, Persecutions, Sufferings, and Triumphant Deaths of the PROTESTANT MARTYRS, During the Reign of MARY the FIRST, commonly called, on account of her Superstition, Bigotry, and Persecuting Spirit, BLOODY QUEEN MARY.

INTRODUCTION: Being a Preliminary Discourse, giving an Account of the principal Errors, Rites, Ceremo|nies, and Superstitious Practices, of the ROMISH CHURCH.

BEFORE we enter upon those bloody tragedies that were acted in England, during the tyran|nical reign of queen Mary, we think it necessary, especially for the information of the younger part of our readers, to give an account of the main er|rors, superstitious ceremonies, and human inven|tions, of the Romish church▪ in abhorrence of which, the f••rst Reformer•• and blessed Martyrs, who made the sacred scriptures their sole guide, separated from that church, and resisting popish idolatry, even unto death, sealed the sacred truths of the everlasting gospel with their precious blood. To attempt a formal refutation of the various ab|surdities belonging to the Roman Catholic religion, would be foreign to the design of this work, and afford ••••tle entertainment: we shall however select those that are most material, and prove that they are me•••• effects of human invention, by contrast|ing them with passages taken from the word of God, the only true rule by which we can possibly

judge in all matters of revealed religion. The Romish church affirms, that out of her communion there is no salvation; yet they receive, profess, and teach, as the true catholic faith, the following strange, unscriptural, and inhuman maxims, tenets, and carnal observances.

TRADITIONS.] The church of Rome having de|prived the laity of the Bible, substitutes in its stead apostolical and ecclesiastical traditions; and obliges her disciples to admit for truth whatever she teaches them: But what do the holy scriptures say? "Why do ye transgress the commandment of God by your traditions?" Matt. xv.3, 9, &c. They also com|mand us "to call no man master (inspiritual concerns); to try the spirits; and to beware of false teachers."

PRAYERS and DIVINE SERVICE in LATIN.] The Roman Catholics will not interpret the scriptures, otherwise than according to the sense of holy Mo|ther Church, and the pretended unanimous consent of the Fathers: they assert also, that the scriptures ought not to be read publicly, nor indifferently by all; and that the common people may be enslaved by gross ignorance, they perform public worship in an unknown tongue, contrary to the rule laid down by the apostle, "That all things should be done to edification." St. Paul says, "If I pray in an un|known tongue, m•• spirit prayeth, but my under|standing is unfruitf••l." And, writing to Timothy, he reminds him, that "from a child hast thou known the scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation, through faith, which is in Christ Jesus."

SEVEN SACRAMENTS.] Two only were institut|ed by Christ, to which the Romish church has add|ed five more, making in all seven, necessary to sal|vation, namely, the Eucharist, Baptism, Confirma|tion, Penance, Extreme Unction, Orders, and Ma|trimony. To those two which Christ instituted, she has added a mixture of her own inventions; for in the sacrament of baptism, she uses salt, oil, or spittle; and in the sacrament of the Lord's sup|per, the laity have only the bread administered to them: and even that not after the manner ordained by Christ, who broke the bread and gave it to his disciples; instead of which, the church of Rome ad|ministers to her members▪ not bread, but a wafer, and that not broke, but put whole by the priest into the mouths of the communicants. These wa|fers are smaller than those made for the priests, who, with them, drink the sacramental wine alone, to which the rest of the congregation have as good a right, from the institution of our blessed Lord, who said, "Drink ye all of this," &c. Matt. xxvi.27.

THE MASS.] Roman Catholics believe it to be a true, proper, and propitiatory sacrifice, and there|fore call it, the Sacrament of the Altar; whereas the death of Christ was a full and complete sacrifice, "in which he hath, by one offering, perfected for ever them that are sanctified. He himself is a priest for ever; who, being raised from the dead, dieth no more; and who, through the eternal Spirit, offered himself without spot to God." See St. Paul's Epistle to the Hebrews, Cha•• ix. and x. It was on account of this gross absurdity, and the ir|religious application of it, that our first reformers suffered, and so many were put to death in the reign of queen Mary.

TRANSUBSTANTIATION.] Roman Catholics pro|fess, that in the most holy sacrament of the Lord's supper, there is really, and substantially, the body and blood, together with the soul and divinity of Christ; and that the whole substance of the bread is turned into his body, and the whole substance of the wine into his blood; which conversion, so con|tradictory to our senses, they call Transubstantiation, but at the same time they affirm, that under either kind or species only, one whole, entire Christ, and the true sacrament is receive••. But why are those words, "This is my body' to be taken in a literal sense, any more than those concerning the cup? Our Saviour says, "I am the true vine; I am the door." St. Paul says, "Our fathers drank of the rock that followed them, and that rock was Christ;" and, writing to the Corinthians, he affirms, that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he had fed them with milk." Can these passages ••e taken literally? Why then must we be forced to interpret our Saviour's words in a literal sense, when the meaning is both clearer, and more natural, when taken in a figurative one? "Take, eat; thus, in like manner, shall my body be broken for you, for the remission of sins. This cup represents the signing of the New Testament with my blood, and as often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup,

ye do shew forth the Lord's death till he come." 1 Cor. xi.23, &c.

PURGATORY.] This, they say, is a certain place, in which, as in a prison, after death, those souls, by the prayers of the faithful, are purged, which in this life could not be fully cleansed; no, not by the blood of Christ: and notwithstanding it is asserted in the scriptures, that "if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness," 1 John i.9. This place of purgatory is in the power of the pope, who dis|penses the indulgence, and directs the treasury of his merits, by which the pains are mitigated, and the deliverance hastened. For the tormented sufferers, in this ideal inquisition, his monks and friars say masses, all of whom must be paid for their trouble; because, No penny, no pater-noster; by which bub|ble the church of Rome amasses great wealth.

IDOLATROUS and CREATURE-WORSHIP.] In all the Romish worship, the blessed virgin is a principal object of adoration. She is stiled queen of heaven, lady of the world, the only hope of sinners, queen of angels, patroness of men, advocate for sinners, mother of mercies; under which titles they desire her, by the power of a mother, to command her son. In some prayers, they invoke God to bring them to heaven by the merits and mediation of the virgin Mary and all her saints, and that they may enjoy perpetual soundness both of body and mind, by her glorious intercession. Hence it might be imagined by a papist, that the sacred writings were full of en••omiums on this pretended mother of God; whereas, on the contrary, we do not find Christ in any part of the scripture called the Son of Mary, nor that he at any time calls her mother; and when the woman cried, "Blessed is the womb that bore thee, and the paps that thou hast sucked;" "Yea, (returns our Lord) rather blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep it." Nor does our Saviour own any relation but that of a disciple; for when his mother and brethren stood without, desiring to speak with him, Jesus answer|ed, "Who are my mother and my brethren!" And looking round upon his disciples, he saith, "Behold my mother and my brethren; for whoso|ever shall do the will of my Father who is in hea|ven, the same is my brother, sister, and mother." Of the like strain are also their prayers to other saints and angels, by which they derogate from the honour of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, and transfer his offices to others; though the Scrip|tures expressly assert, there is but one mediator be|tween God and man, who is sufficiently able to de|liver and save, to the uttermost, all who by faith come unto him. Nor must we omit under this head the idolatry of the mass, in the elevation of the host, to which the poor deluded people kneel down, and which they, whatever their artful priests pretend to the contrary, solemnly adore and wor|ship, agreeable to an express article of their creed, and the command of one of their popes, who en|joins that the host is to be worshipped in Latera, whereby the second commandment is infringed, which the Romish church have endeavoured as much as possible to suppress, and in many of their little manuels they leave it quite out.

PAPAL SOVEREIGNTY.] This is politically sup|ported by a pretended Infallibility; Auricular Con|fession, founded upon the priest's power to forgive sins; Indulgences; Pretended Relicks; Penance; Pardons; Strings of Beads, for Ave-Marys, and Pater-nosters; Celibacy; Merits and Works of Supererogation; Restrictions; Monkish Austeri|ties; Religious Vows and Orders; Palms; Can|dles; decorated Images; Incense; Holy Water, or (as Mr. Fox in the Preface to his third volume, more properly calls it) Conjuring Water, Christen|ing of Bells; hallowed Flow••rs and Bra••••hes; Ag••nus Dei; Oblations; Consec••••tions; with a vari|ety of other devices, tricks, and impositions; to which may be added certain

LUDICROUS FORMS and CEREMONIES.] At the feast of Christmas, in commemoration of th•• n••••i|vity of our blessed Lord, Roman Catholics have exhibited in their Churches a cradle, with an image of an infant in it, which is rocked with great seem|ing devotion; and on Good-Friday they have the figure of our Saviour on the cross, and then they perform the service which they call the Tenebress; having abundance of lighted candles, all of which they extinguish one by one, hereby celebrating the darkness at the time of our Saviour's crucifixion: after which the body is taken down from the cross and put into a sepulchre, and men stand to watch it;

with more of the same childish mummery that might be related, as if the Son of God came down from heaven to furnish men with a subject for dramatic representation.

STRANGE and CRUEL MAXIMS.] Papists hold, that heretics (for so they call the protestants) may not be termed children, or kindred.

BY the heresy of the father, the child is freed from all obligations of natural obedience.

WHEN a christian king becomes an heretic, his subjects are forthwith freed from their allegiance.

IT i•• not lawful for christians to tolerate any king, who draweth his subjects into heresy.

THEY ought to endeavour to depose him, and set up another in his place.

THEY ought to expel him the kingdom as the enemy of Christ. This is the undoubted judg|ment of the most learned, and agreeable to ••posto|lical truth.

FAITH is not to be kept with heretics, and papists may have a dispensation, for the breach of oaths, or any secret practices against them, for the good of the Romish church; and it is lawful to torture, burn their bodies, or otherways kill them, for the good of their souls.

NOW the above scheme of popery, if duly attend••ed to, will convince every unprejudiced mind, that a mixture of paganism and judaism, absurdity and idolatry, run throughout the whole, and that it is a crafty design to establish a dominion over the consci|ences, persons, and properties▪ of its deluded pro|fessors; yet all these false doctrines, and irreligious practices, the wretched slaves of papal tyranny are obliged to swallow down; and to doubt of one single jota is, according to the priest, damnable▪ for says a Roman catholic, at the close of his creed,

I acknowledge the Holy Catholic and Apostolic Roman church to be the mother and mistress of all churches; and I promise and swear true obedience to the pope of Rome who is Christ's vicar, and successor to St. Peter, the prince of the apos|tles.

I also without doubt, receive and profess all o|ther things delivered, defined, and declared by the holy synod of Trent; and all things contrary to them, with all heretics, condemned, rejected, and cursed by the church, I likewise reject, condemn, and curse.

LASTLY. This true Catholic Faith, without which no man can be saved, which at present I free|ly hold and profess, I will (by God's help) constant|ly retain and confess, entire and inviolable, to my latest breath, and take care, to the utmost of my power, that the same shall be taught, held, and professed by all under me, and whose care shall be|long to me in my office; so help me God, and the holy Evangelists.

HAVING thus given an accout of the notorious corruptions and abuses which the Romish church has introduced into her complex system of absurdi|ties and idolatries, we proceed to give a full and faithful display of the intolerant, cruel, and dreadful bloody spirit of popery, as exemplified in the per|secutions, sufferings, and martyrdoms▪ of the perse|vering, holy, constant, and now blessed martyrs. Our general design is, to open the eyes of the luke|warm, to confirm weak and unlearned christians in their most holy faith, and to guard all who profess the faith of Christ, from the stratagems of those, who seek to draw them from the simplicity and truth of the everlasting gospel; and we submit the whole to the judgment of the candid reader, implo|ring that divine blessing, which is necessary to crown our labours, and every spiritual attempt, with such success, a•• may redound to the glory of God, and the eternal welfare of all our fellow christians.

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other Scenes shewing the Cruel manner in which the PROTESTANS were dragged through Bog•• in IRELAND, and hung on Tenterhooks fastened to Poles till they Perished through Pain & Want of Food &c▪

CHAP. I. The ACCESSION of QUEEN MARY, and the various Alterations in RELIGION, Troubles in the STATE, and Persecutions in the CHURCH, that happened in ENGLAND, after her CORONATION, and in the First Year of her REIGN.

THE Roman Catholics assert, (and what will they not say to colour over their inhuman practices, and bloody deeds?) "That all those who suffered death, during the reign of Queen Mary, had been adjudged guilty of high treason, in conse|quence of their having stood up in defence of lady ••ane Gray's title to the crown." To disprove this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 no difficult matter, seeing every one, conversant 〈◊〉〈◊〉 history, must know, that those who are tried on the statute of the 25th of Edward I. Chap. 26, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to be hanged and quartered; but with what assu|••ance can even a papist affirm, that ever a man in ••ngland was burned for high treason? We admit, ••••at some few suffered death in the ordinary process at common law, for their adherence to lady Jane; but none of those were burned. Why, if they were traitors, take them before the bishops, who have no power to judge in criminal cases? Nay, allowing the bishops to have had power to judge, yet their own bloody statute did not give them power to exe|cute; otherwise, why were they obliged to certify 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the chancellor, that the accused person was a he|retic, before they could obtain a warrant for his ex|ecution? The proceedings against the martyrs are still extant, and they were carried on directly accor|ding to the forms prescribed by their own statute. We thought it necessary to promise thus much, that our British youth may not be led away by popish insi|nuations; for if they will but consider, they will be convinced, that the popish assertion is false. There was not one of those who were burned in England, ever accused of high treason, much less were they tried at common law. And this should teach young persons a history of transactions in their own country, particularly of their Blessed Mar|tyrs, in order that they be able to detect the false|hoods advanced by Romish priests, and their nu|merous emissaries. Having said thus much, by way of caution, we shall, without farther preface, enter upon the narrative, which, as we have pro|mised, shall be a NEW and COMPLETE HISTORY of the Acts and Monuments of our glorious Mar|tyrs.

DURING the time that king Edward VI. was afflicted by a long illness, a marriage was provi|led, concluded, and solemnized in the month of May, between the lord Guilford, son to the duke of Northumberland, and the lady Jane, daugh|ter of the duke of Suffolk: whose mother, be|ing then alive, was daughter to Mary, king Hen|ry's second sister, who was first married to the French king, and afterwards to Charles, duke of Suffolk. The marriage being consummated, and the king growing every day worse, he was pre|vailed upon to set aside, by his last will and tes|tament, his two sisters, Mary and Elizabeth, and to leave his crown to lady Jane, the duke of Suf|folk's daughter.

TO this order subscribed all the king's council, and the chief of the nobility, the lord mayor and city of London, and almost all the judges and prin|cipal lawyers of the realm, except justice Hales of Kent, a true protestant, and upright judge, who having given his consent to the lady Mary's being queen, would upon no account therefore subscribe to the lady Jane. How he was rewarded for his integrity by Mary, will be seen in the sequel. But the objections made by others in the realm against lady Mary's reigning were, because they feared she would marry a foreigner, and by that means entan|gle the crown; and it was generally believed, that she would bring in the pope, and quite alter the religion used both in the days of her father king Henry, and in those of her brother Edward VI. which afterwards came to pass.

WHAT gave rise to this conjecture, was the great stubbornness she shewed in her brother's days, as evidently appears from those letters that passed be|tween her, king Edward, and the council. Not long after this, through the violence of his illness, that most hopeful prince, Edward VI. departed this life; immediately after whose death, lady Jane Gray was, by the nobles, proclaimed queen, in London and other populous cities, and was there so acknowledged and called.

THERE was little difference in age between this young lady, and king Edward; but as to learning and knowledge of the languages, she was not only equal but superior to him, having had the advan|tage of a man of most excellent learning for her tu|tor; and had her fortune been equal to her fine wit and education, no doubt she would have been com|parable, not only to the most eminent among wo|men, but even to men of the University, who had taken several degrees there in the schools.

IN the mean time, while those things were upon the anvil, and working in London, lady Mary, ha|ving received advice of her brother's death, wrote to the lords of the council in the stile and manner following.

The Lady Mary's Letter to the Lords of the Council, claiming the Crown upn her Brother's decease.

My Lords,

WE greet you well, and have received sure advertise|ment, that our dearest brother the king, our late sovereign lord, is departed to God's mercy, which news how woeful they be unto our heart, he only knoweth, to whose will and pleasure we must and do humbly submit us and our wills. But in this so lamentable a case, that is to wit, now after his majesty's departure and death, concerning the crown and governance of this realm of England, with the title of France, and all things thereto belonging, what hath been provided by act or parliament, and the testament and last will of our dearest father, besides other circum|stances advancing our right, you know, the realm, and the whole world knoweth, the rolls and records appear by the authority of the king our said father, and the king our said brother, and the subjects of this realm; so that we verily trust, that there is no good true subject that is, can, or would pretend to be ignorant thereof: and of our part we have of our••elves caused, and, as God shall aid and strength|en us, shall cause our right and title in this behalf to be published and proclaimed accordingly. And albeit this so weighty a matter seemeth strange, that our said brother dying upon Thursday at night last past, we hitherto had no knowledge from you thereof, yet we consider your wisdoms and prudence to be such, that having eftsoons [quickly] amongst you debated, pondered, and well weighed this pre|sent case with our estate, with your own estate, the com|monwealth and all our honours, we shall and may conceive great hope and trust, with much assurance in your loyalty and service, and therefore for the time interpret and take things not to the worst: and that ye will, like noblemen, work the best. Nevertheless, we are not ignorant of your consultations, to undo the provisions made for our prefer|ment, nor of the great bands and provisions forcible, where|with ye be assembled and prepared, by whom, and to what end, God and you know, and nature cannot but fear some evil. But be it, that some consideration politic, or what|soever thing else hath moved you thereto, yet doubt you not, my lords, but we can take all these your doings in gra|cious part, being also right ready to remit and fully pardon the same, and that freely to eschew bloodshed and vengeance against all those that can or will intend the same, trusting also assuredly you will take and accept this grace and virtue in good part as appertaineth, and that we shall not be in|forced to use the service of other our true subjects and friends, which, in this our just and right cause, God, in whom our whole affiance is, shall send us. Wherefore, my lords, we require you, and charge you, and every of you, that of your allegiance which you owe to God and us, and to none other, for our honour and the surety of our per|son only employ yourselves, and forthwith, upon receipt hereof, cause our right and title to the crown and govern|ment of this realm to be proclaimed in our city of London and other places, as to your wisdom shall seem good, and as to this case appertaineth, not failing hereof, as our very trust is in you. And this our letter, signed with our hand, shall be your sufficient warrant on this behalf.

"Given under our signat, at our manor of Ken|ing-hall, the 9th of July, 1553."

TO this Letter of the Lady Mary, the Lords of the Council returned the following Answer.

The Lords Answer to the Lady Mary's Lettter.

MADAM, we have received your letters, the 9th of this instant, declaring your supposed titles which you judge yourself to have to the imperial crown of this realm, and all the dominions thereunto belonging. For an|swer whereof, this is to advertise you, that forasmuch as our sovereign lady queen Jane is, after the death of our sove|reign lord king Edward VI. a prince of most noble me|mory, invested and possessed with the just and right title to the imperial crown of this realm, not only by good order of ancient laws of this realm, but also by our late sovereign

lord's letters patent, signed with his own hand, and sealed with the great seal of England, in presence of the most part of the nobles, counsellors, judges, with divers other grave and sage personages, assenting and subscribing to the same: we must therefore, as of most bound duty and allegi|ance, assent unto her said grace, and to none other, except we should (which faithful subjects cannot) fall into griev|ous and unspeakable enormities. Wherefore we can no less do, but, for the quiet both of the realm and you also, to advertise you, that forasmuch as the divorce made be|tween the king of famous memory, king Henry VIII. and the lady Katherine your mother, was necessary to be had both by the everlasting laws of God, and also by the eccle|siastical laws, and by the most part of the noble and learned universities of Christendom, and confirmed also by the sundry acts of parliament remaining yet in their force, and thereby you justly made illegitimate, and unheritable to the crown imperial of this realm, and the rules, and domi|nions, and possessions of the same, you will upon just con|sideration hereof, and of divers other causes lawful to be al|ledged for the same, and for the just inheritance of the right line, and godly order taken by the late king our sovereign lord king Edward VI. and agreed upon by the nobles and great personages aforesaid, surcease by any pretence to vex and molest any of our sovereign lady queen Jane her sub|jects, from their true faith and allegiance due unto her grace: assuring you, that if you will for respect shew your|self quiet and obedient (as you ought,) you shall find us all and several ready to do you any service that we with duty may, and glad with your quietness to preserve the common state of this realm, wherein you may be otherwise grievous unto us, to yourself, and to them. And thus we bid you most heartily well to fare.

From the Tower of London, in this 9th of July, 1553.

"Your ladyships friends, shewing yourself an obedient subject,

• Thomas Canterbury
• The Marquis of Win|chester
• John Bedford
• Wm. Northampton
• Tho. Ely Chancellor
• Northumberland
• Henry Suffolk
• Henry Arundel
• Shrewsbury
• Pembroke
• Cobh••m
• R. Rich
• Huntington
• Darcy
• Cheyney
• R. Cotton
• John Gates
• W. Peter
• W. Cecil
• John Check
• John Mason
• Edward North
• R. Bowes."

ALL these persons, except the duke of North|umberland, and Sir John Gates, were afterwards by a special or general pardon discharged.

Lady Mary, after having received the above answer, and perceiving thereby the lords' minds, made haste privately out of London, relying chiefly upon the good will of the commons, and not desti|tute altogether of secret advertisements from some of the nobles. When the council heard of her sudden departure, and resolute conduct, and per|ceived that things went not according to their late expectations, they gathered speedily a body of troops together, and fixed upon the duke of Suffolk, for their general; but afterwards changing their minds, they thought it best to let the duke of Suf|folk keep the Tower where lord Guilford and lady Jane then lodged, and to send the duke of North|umberland, with several other lords and gentlemen. In which expedition, notwithstanding the guards were very unwilling to march at first, yet, through the persuasion and importunity of the lord treasurer Cholmey, and others, they were at length induced to assist the duke, and to set forward with him.

THESE things thus agreed upon, the duke march|ed from London after the best manner, having both his times and journey prescribed him by the council, that he might not do any thing but upon warrant. In the mean time, lady Mary, fatigued with travelling up and down, and considering where to fix most for her advantage, withdrew at length into the quarters of Norfolk and Suffolk, where, on account of his having subdued the rebels in her brother's reign, she understood the name of North|umberland was very much hated; and procuring to herself aid and assistance, on every side, as she could, she kept herself close for a time within Fre|mingham castle.

AT this place first resorted to her the men of Suffolk, who being among the number of the most zealous reformers, promised her their support, but with this stipulation, that Mary should not attempt to alter that religion which, by laws and orders publicly enacted, was established in her brother king Edward's days, and which had been generally received by the consent of the whole realm. With this condition she readily complied, and knowing that faith is not to be kept with heretics, she scru|pled not to promise them faithfully, upon the word of a queen, that no innovation should be made in religion; which promise had she as religiously

kept, as they did willingly engage to protect and preserve her, at the expence of their lives, she had acted worthy of her high descent, and made her reign more stable through future tranquillity; for let a king or queen, or any private person, be ever so powerful, yet a breach of that promise is an ill sup|porter of peace and quietness, fear worse, cruelty worst of all.

HOWEVER, lady Mary, thus powerfully guard|ed and faithfully assisted, for the present, vanquished the duke and lady Jane's adherents. In conside|ration whereof, when the Suffolk protestants after|wards reminded their most gracious queen Mary of her promise, she made them the following severe, and ungrateful reply: "Forasmuch (said she) as you, being but the members, desire to rule your head, you shall one day well perceive, that members must obey their head, and not look to bear rule over the same." And with a view of striking great|er terror into others, a certain gentleman, near Windham side, named Dobbe, for advertising her by a humble petition of her promise, was punished with standing three times in the pillory. Many others were likewise imprisoned, for having deliver|ed her books and supplications, collected out of the scriptures, thereby exhorting her to continue in the true reformed religion then established.

BUT to return to the duke of Northumberland, who, having his warrant under the broad seal, pro|ceeded on his march; but his short journeys, as|signed him by commission, and the tedious delays in his rout, added an increasing strength to lady Mary's cause, especially as, at this time, the hearts of the people began to be much inclined to her; which, when the council at London perceived, and understood how the common people began to with|draw from them to her, as did also several of the nobility, they forthwith changed their measures, and proclaimed for queen lady Mary, eldest daugh|ter to Henry VIII. appointed by the parliament to succeed, king Edward dying without issue. As to the duke of Northumberland, he was left destitute and forsaken at Cambridge. Upon this he pro|claimed Mary queen; yet this piece of policy did him no service; for he was arrested, as were like|wise some of his sons, and the earl of Huntington, with a few others; who were all sent to the Tower, as traitors to the crown.

THUS was lady Mary seated on the throne of England, who, to a disagreeable person and weak mind, had united bigotry, superstition, and cruel|ty. She seems to have inherited more of her mo|ther's, than her father's qualities. Henry was fiery, rough, and ungovernable; but Catharine, with a severe and implacable rancour against pro|testants, assumed the character of a saint. It was the same with her daughter Mary, as appears from a letter in her own hand writing, now in the British Museum. In this letter, which is addressed to bishop Gardiner, she declares her fixed intention of burning every protestant; and it contains an in|sinuation, that, as soon as circumstances would permit, she would restore back to the church the lands that had been taken from the convents This was the strongest instance of her weakness that she could shew; for the convents had been demolished, except a few of their churches; and the rents were in the hands of the nobility, who, rather than part with them, would have overturn|ed the government, both in church and state. But reason and bigotry cannot accord. That narrow|ness of spirit, which always distinguishes a weak mind from one that has been enlarged by education, pervaded all the actions of this princess. Unac|quainted with the constitution of the country, and a slave to superstition, Mary thought to domineer over the rights of private judgment, and to trample on the privileges of mankind.

NO sooner had this queen, by the Suffolk pro|testants, the sword of authority put into her hand, than she began to employ it against those who had supported the title of lady Jane Gray. This devo|ted victim remained with her husband, lord Guild|ford, almost five months in the Tower, waiting her pleasure. But the duke of Northumberland, within a month after his confinement there, was condemned, brought to the scaffold, and behead|ed, notwithstanding a promise made him of his life, if he would but renounce his religion and hear mass; which he not only did, but also exhor|ted the people to return to the Catholic faith. The Papists immediately published and sprea•• abroad

his recantation: but the duke, in consequence of his crimes arising from a sordid ambition, died unpitied; nay, he was insulted on the scaffold by those who remembered in what manner he had acted to their beloved Somerset. It may be pro|per to observe, this duke of Northumberland was not of the great Percy family, which at that time was under a cloud; but he was the grandson of that Dudley, who was executed in the year 1509, for having acted inconsistent with the common law.

THE execution of this nobleman was followed with that of sir Thomas Palmer, and sir John Gates; the former of whom confessed his faith in the reformed religion, and lamented that he had not lived more conformably thereto. Queen Mary having begun her reign with the blood of these men, and with hearing mass in the Tower, and having also released from thence Stephen Gardener; were sufficient indications to the protestant part of the nation, that she would not perform what she had promised the Suffolk men; and besides these ill omens, there were other things, which e|very day more and more discomforted the people, and which plainly declared the queen to bear no good will to the reformation. Gardiner was not only released, but made lord chancellor, and bishop of Winchester, by turning out Dr. Poynet; Bon|ner was made bishop of London, by displacing good Dr. Ridley; Dr. Day was promoted to the bishopric of Durham, by putting out Scory; Dr. Tonstal to the bishopric of Chichester; Dr. Heath to that of Worcester; Hooper w••s committed to the fleet; and Dr. Vesie was made bishop of Exeter, by dis|placing Miles Coverlade: all which changes, and transactions, being particularly noted, occasioned great heaviness to all good men, and, on the other hand, great rejoicing to the wicked. In which discord of minds, and diversity of affections, there was now to be seen a miserable prospect of things throughout the whole nations for they who could dissemble, cared not how matters went; but such as were conscientious, and had any regard to the truth, perceived fires to be already kindled, and which would be the destruction of many a sin|cere christian; which indeed afterwards came to pass. Mary having thus laid the foundation of her bloody reign, removed to Hampton-court from the Tower, and caused a parliament to be summoned, against the 10th of October next en|suing, of which more hereafter.

AMONGST the bishops who were removed, we noticed Dr. Ridley, bishop of London, a learned and pious prelate, who in the time of queen Jane, by order of the council, preached a sermon at Paul's Cross, declaring therein his opinion con|cerning the lady Mary, and dissuading them by al|ledging the inconveniences that might arise by ad|mitting her to the crown, prophesying, as it were, before that, which afterwards came to pass, namely that she should bring in a foreign power to reign over them, and subvert the christian religion then happily established; shewing, moreover, that, the lady Mary being in his diocese, he, according to his duty, as being then her ordinary, had done his endeavours to reform her to this religion, and not|withstanding in all other points of civility she shew|ed herself gentle and tractible, yet in matters that concerned true faith and doctrine, she appeared perverse and obstinate; that he could conceive no other hopes of her, but that she would disturb and overturn all that had been planted and confirmed with so much industry in the reign of her brother king Edward. Soon after this sermon was preach|ed, the lady Mary was proclaimed queen, where|upon Dr. Ridley forthwith repaired to salute her at Fremingham Castle, where he met with cold en|tertainment, and being deprived of all his dignity, was sent back upon a lame halting horse to the Tower.

THE Sunday following Mr. Rogers preached, discoursing very learnedly on the gospel for the day: whereupon queen Mary, perceiving things not to go forward according to her mind, forthwith devised and consulted with her council how to bring about by other means, what by open law she could not well accomplish; and accordingly directed forth a prohibition by proclamation, that no man should preach or read openly the word of God in churches, with several other things contained in the same proclamation, of which the following is a true copy.

A Prohibition of the Queen from Preaching, Printing, &c.

"THE Queen's Highness, well remembering what great inconveniences and dangers have grown to this her highness's realm in times past, through the di|versity

of opinions in question of religion, and hearing al|so that now of late, since the beginning of her most gra|cious reign, the same contentions be again much revived through certain false and untrue reports and rumours spread by some light and evil disposed persons; hath thought good to declare, to all her highness's most loving subjects, her most gracious pleasure in manner following:

"FIRST, her majesty, being presently by the only good|ness of God settled in her just possession of the imperial crown of this realm, and other dominions thereunto be|longing, cannot now hide that religion which God and the world knoweth she hath ever professed from her infancy hitherto. Which as her majesty is minded to observe and maintain for herself, by God's grace, during her time, so doth her highness much desire, and would be glad the same were of all her subjects quietly and charitably em|braced.

"AND yet she doth signify unto all her majesty's lov|ing subjects, that of her most gracious disposition and cle|mency, her highness mindeth not to compel any of her said subjects thereunto, until such time as further order by common assent may be taken therein: forbidding never|theless all her subjects of all degrees, at their perils, to move seditions, or stir unquietness in her people, by in|terpreting the laws of this realm after their brains and fantasies, but quietly to continue for the time till (as be|fore is said) further order may be taken, and therefore willeth and straitly chargeth and commandeth all her said good loving subjects, to live together in quiet sort, and christian charity, leaving those new found divelish terms of Papist or Heretic, and such like, and applying then whole care, study, and travail, to live in the fear of God, exercising their conversations in such charitable and godly doing, as their lives may indeed express that hunger and thirst of God's glory and holy word, which by rash talk and words many have pretended: and in so doing they shall best please God, and live without danger of the laws, and maintain the tranquility of the realm. Whereof as her highness shall be the most glad, so if any man shall rashly presume to make any assemblies of people, or at any public assemblies, or otherwise, shall go about to stir the people to disorder or disquiet, she mindeth, according to her duty, to see the same most severely reformed and punished according to her highness's laws.

"AND furthermore, forasmuch as it is also well known, that sedition and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 rumours have been nourished and maintained in this realm, by the subtility and malice of some evil disposed persons, which take upon them, without sufficient authority, to preach and to interpret the word of God after their own brain in churches, and other places both public and 〈…〉〈…〉 playing of interludes, and printing 〈…〉〈…〉, ballads, rhimes, and other 〈…〉〈…〉 in the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 tongue, concerning doctrine, in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 now in question and controversy, touching the high points and mysteries of the christian re|ligion: which books, ballads, rhimes, and treatises, are chiefly by the printers and stationers set out to sale to her grace's subjects, of an evil zeal, for lucre and covetuousness of vile gain: her highness therefore straitly chargeth and commandeth all and every of her said subjects, of whatsoever state, condition, or degree they be, that none of them presume from henceforth to preach, or by way of reading in churches, or other public or private places, ex|cept in schools of the University, to interpret or teach any scriptures, or any manner of points of doctrine concern|ing religion, neither also to print any books, matter, bal|lad, rhime, interlude, process or treatise, nor to play any interlude, except they have her grace's special licence in writing for the same, upon pain to incur her highness's in|dignation and displeasure.

"AND her highness also further chargeth and com|mandeth all and every her said subjects, that none of them of their own authority do presume to punish, and to rise against any offender in the causes above-said, or any other offende in words or deeds in the late rebellion committed or done by the duke or Northumberland, or his complices, or to seize any of their goods, or violently to use any such offender by striking, or imprisoning, or threatening the same, but wholly to refer the punishment of such offen|ders unto her highness's public authority, whereof her majesty mindeth to see the due punishment according to the order of her highness's laws.

"NEVERTHELESS, as her highness mindeth not hereby to restrain and discourage any of her loving subjects, to give from time to time true information against any such offenders in the causes above-said, unto her grace or coun|cil, for the punishment of every such off••nder, according to the effect of her highness's laws provided in that part▪ so her said highness exhorteth and straitly chargeth her said subjects to observe her commandment and pleasure in every part aforesaid, as they will avoid her highness's said indig|nation and most grievous displeasure. The severity and rigour whereof as her highness shall be most sorry to have cause to put in execution; so doth she utterly determine not to permit such unlawful and rebellious doings of her subjects, whereof may ensue the danger of her royal estate, to remain unpunished, but to see her said laws touching these points to be thoroughly executed: which extremities she trusteth all her said subjects will foresee, dread, and avoid accordingly: her said highness straitly charging and commanding all mayors, sheriffs, justices of peace, bailiffs, constables, and all other public officers and ministers, di|ligently to see to the observing and executing of her said commandments and pleasure, and to apprehend all such as shall wilfully offend in this part, committing the same to the next ••ail, there to remain without bail or mainprize, till upon certificate made to her highness, or her privy council, of their names and 〈◊〉〈◊〉; and upon examina|tion had of their offences, some farthe•• order shall be

taken from their punishment to the example of others, according to the effect and tenor of the laws aforesaid.

"Given at our manor of Richmond, the 18th day of August in the first year of our most prosperous reign."

The Tumult at Paul's Cross, occasioned by Mr. Bourn's Sermon.

NEAR this period, or not long before, Mr. Bourn, a canon of St. Paul's, and who was afterwards made bishop of Bath, being appointed by Bonner, then bishop of London, to preach at Paul's Cross, he took occasion, from the gospel of the day, to speak largely in justification of Bonner, who was then pre|sent, by saying, that Bonner, four years ago, had preached from the same text, and in the same place, for which he was most cruelly and unjustly cast into that most vile dungeon the Marshalsea, where he was confined during king Edward's reign. His words had such an ill effect upon his hearers, as to cause them to murmur and stir in such sort, that the mayor and aldermen then present feared much an uproar; indeed, so great was the popular re|sentment, that one hurled a daggar at Mr. Bourn, but who the person was could not then be ascercain|ed, though he was afterwards discovered. In short, the tumult became so violent, that the preacher was silenced, broke off his discourse, and durst no more appear in that place; for the matter of his discourse tended much to the dispraise of king Edward, which the people could in no wise endure. Then Mr. Bradford, being in the pulpit, stood forth, at the request of Mr. Bourn's brother, and spoke so mild|ly and effectually to the people, that with a few words he pacified them. This done, he and Mr. Rogers conducted Mr. Bourn betwixt them to the Grammar school door, where they left him safe; for which prudent and humane conduct, they were both, shortly after, rewarded with long imprison|ment, and at last with fire in Smithfield.

BY reason of this tumult at Paul's Cross, there was an order forthwith dispatched from the lords of the council to the mayor and aldermen of London, that they should call a common-council the next day, and thereby charge every housholder to cause their children, apprentices, and other servants, to keep to their own parish churches upon holy days, and not to suffer their attempting in the least to vio|late or disturb the common peace; willing them likewise to signify to the said assembly the queen's determination uttered unto them August 12th, by her highness in the Tower, which was this, that notwithstanding her majesty's conscience was satis|fied as to matters of religion, yet she graciously meant not to compel or force the consciences of others, only hoping God, through opening his word to them by godly, virtuous, and learned preachers, would so guide and direct them, as to bring them to be of the like religion with herself. At the same time it was ordered, that every alderman should straitway send for the curates of every parish within their liberties, and warn them not only to forbear preaching themselves, but likewise not to suffer any others to preach, or to make an open or solemn reading of the scriptures in their churches, unless such preachers, and public readers, were severally licensed by the queen: and in order to prevent any future riot, the day after Mr. Bourn had been driven from his pulpit, the queen's guard came to the Cross to attend the preacher; but the peo|ple having withdrawn themselves from the ser|mon, it was ordered by the mayor, that the ancients of all companies should be present, lest the preacher should be discouraged by his small auditory.

AN account of the Prohibition, Citations, and Com|mitments, of several Clergymen, and others, who either talked, or preached, against the queen's proceedings.

AUGUST, 1553. On the 5th of this month, one William Ru••ler was committed to the Marshalsea by the privy council, for speaking against Mr. Bourn, on account of his sermon at Paul's Cross, the Sunday before.

ON the 16th, Humphry Paulden was sent to the compter, for the like offence.

A letter was sent to the sheriffs of Buckingham and Bedford, for apprehending one Fisher, minister of Amersham; and another to the bishop of Nor|wich, not to suffer any preacher, or other, to preach or expound the scripture publicly, without special licence from the queen. And the same day Mr. Bradford, Vernon, and Beacon, preachers, were

committed to the charge of the lieutenant of the Tower. Mr. Rogers also, the same day, was or|dered to keep himself prisoner in his own house, not being allowed the liberty of conversing with any other but those of his own houshold.

ON the 22d two letters were sent to Coverdale, bishop of Exeter, and Hooper, bishop of Glouces|ter, commanding them to repair forthwith to court, and there to attend the council's pleasure. At which time the Rev. Mr. Fisher of Amersham appeared before the council, and was ordered to bring a copy of his sermon the next day.

ON the 24th, the Rev. John Melvin, a Scotch|man, was sent to Newgate by the council.

ON the 28th, a letter was directed to the mayor of Coventry and the corporation, for apprehending Hugh Symonds, vicar of St. Michael's, in Coven|try, and for sending him up to the council, with his examinations, and other matters they could charge him with. A commission was likewise inclosed to punish all such, who, by means of his preaching, had at any time talked against the queen's pro|ceedings.

ON the 29th, John Hooper, bishop of Glouces|ter, and on the 31st, Coverdale, bishop of Exeter, appeared before the council, in obedience to the letters of the 22d instant.

SEPTEMBER, 1553. On the 1st of this month, the two bishops, Hooper and Coverdale, appeared again before the council, when the former was com|mitted to the Fleet, and the latter ordered to attend the lords' pleasure.

ON the 2d, the Rev. Mr. Hugh Symonds at|tended at the council board, on account of a sermon he had preached, and was ordered to appear again the Monday following.

ON the 4th, a citation from the council was di|rected to Hugh Latimer, archbishop of Canterbur••, commanding his appearance before them. And abouth the 5th, Peter Martyr came to London from Oxford, where, for a time, he had been com|manded to keep his house▪ and found there the archbishop of Canterbury, who offered to defend the Book of Common Prayer, both by the scriptures and the fathers, assisted by Peter Martyr and others. But while they were in hopes of this event, the archbishop and others were imprisoned, and Peter Martyr permitted to return whence he came. The same day a letter was sent to the mayor of Coven|try, with orders to set Hugh Symonds at liberty, if he would recant his sermon, otherwise to detain him, and give notice thereof to the council.

ON the 13th, archbishop Latimer appearing be|fore the council, agreeable to their order of the 4th instant, he was by them sent to the Tower, attend|ed by his servant Austin; and commanded to attend them the next day. Accordingly,

ON the 14th, the archbishop of Canterbury was brought before the lords, in the Star-chamber; where being charged with treason, and with distri|buting seditious bills to the disturbance of the state, he was immediately committed close prisoner to the Tower of London, there to remain at the queen's pleasure, till further justice and order.

ON the 15th, a letter was sent to the Rev. Mr. Horn, dean of Durham, requiring him to come be|fore the council; and October 7th, another letter was sent to hasten his appearance.

ON the 16th instant, orders were sent down to the mayors of Dover and Rye, to suffer all French protestants to pass out of this realm, except such whose names were to be signified to them by the French ambassador.

OCTOBER, 1553. The coronation of Mary I. in the usual form, at Westminster, took place on the 1st day of this month, and dreadful were the consequences that followed; for on the 10th, the parliament began with a solemn mass of the Holy Ghost, celebrated with great pomp, after the popish manner, in the palace of Westminster; at which, according to custom, those bishops, not yet depo|sed, were to be present, namely, the archbishop of York, Dr. Taylor, bishop of Lincoln, and John Harley, bishop of Hereford; but when the bish|ops, Taylor and Harley, had taken their places among the lords, upon seeing mass begin they

withdrew, not enduring the sight of such idolatrous foppery: for which cause the bishop of Lincoln being examined, and protesting his faith, was commanded to attend; who soon after fell sick, and died at Ankerwike; and bishop Harley, for being married, was expelled from parliament, and deprived of his bishopric. Mass being ended, the queen came to the parliament house, where she opened the session in the usual manner. A consul|tation was then held with the states of the realm, after which, all the statutes were repealed, that were made for reformation, in the reign of Henry VIII. and those in the time of Edward VI. for reading the Common Prayer, and administering the sacrament in the English tongue; and in this session, the attainder of the duke of Northumber|land was also confirmed.

IN the mean time, several persons were very forward in erecting altars for masses, in churches; but such as favoured the reformation, or adhered to the laws made in King Edward's reign, were either marked, or apprehended; among whom was Sir James Hales of Kent, justice of the com|mon-pleas; who, because he had given a charge, at a quarter sessions, upon the statutes of Henry VIII. and Edward VI. for the supremacy and reformation, was therefore imprisoned in the Fleet, where he was so cruelly handled, and terrified by the conversation of the warden in his hearing, of the torments preparing for heretics, that he inten|ded to dispatch himself with a knife; but after|wards, submitting himself to the pleasure of the queen's council, he was willing to say what they desired him; after which compliance, his conscience so troubled him, that he sought for rest ••••om a violent death, and drowned himself in a river, about half a mile from his own house.

WHILE the parliament was employed in paving the way for the introduction of popish superstition, the clergy also had, after their usual manner, a convocation at St. Paul's church, London, where the queen appointed a disputation to be held, on the eighteenth of October. In this convocation, Mr. John Harpsfield, batchelor of divinity, preach|ed a sermon to the clergy; after which, for the sake of order, they proceeded to the choice of a prolocutor or speaker. To this office Dr. Weston, dean of Westminster, was appointed by unanimous consent, and presented to the bishops, Mr. Pie, dean of Chichester, and Mr, Wimbisley, arch|deacon of London, delivering at the same time an oration. Dr. Weston then made his congratulatory speech to the house, and was answered with another by bishop Bonner. They next enterred upon the disputation, concerning the matter of the sacrament instituted by Christ, at his last supper with his disciples, which disputation continued six days suc|cessively, wherein Dr. Weston was chief on the side of popery, who behaved himself outrageously in taunting and checking; insomuch, that they who dis|puted on the other side, in defence of the doctrines of the reformation, were compelled, some to fly, some to deny, some to die; but in the judgment of most men who heard the debate, they had the better in point of argument, as may appear by the report of the said disputation, a true copy, and faithful account whereof will be the subject of our next chapter.

CHAP. II. Containing a full and complete Account of a PUBLIC THEOLOGICAL DISPUTATION, about the REAL PRESENCE, and TRANSUBSTANTIATION, in (what Papists call) the SACRA|MENT of the ALTAR, maintained in the Convocation-House, at St. Paul's, London, and appointed by the Queen's special command, October 18th, 1553.

The Report.

WHEREAS divers and uncertain rumours be spread abroad of the disputation had in the convocation house; to the intent that all men may know the certainty of all things therein done and said, as much as the memory of him that was pre|sent thereat can bear away, he hath thought good, at request, thoroughly to describe what was said therein on both parties of the matters argued and had in question, and of the entrance thereof.

The First Day. The subject for debate stated by the Prolocutor, in his address to the Convocation.

ON Wednesday, October 18, in the afternoon, the prolocutor, Dr. Weston, certified the house, it was the queen's pleasure, that the learned men there assembled should debate matters of religion, and for that end constitute laws, which her grace and the parliament would ratify. And because (said he) there was a book lately published, called the Cate|chism (which he produced) bearing the name of this honourable synod, and yet put forth without your consents, as I have learned, being a book very pes|tiferous, and full of heresies; and likewise an abo|minable book of Common Prayer; I thought it best, therefore, first to begin with the articles of the Catechism, concerning the sacrament of the altar, for confirming the natural presence of Christ in the same, and also transubstantiation: wherefore, it shall be lawful, on Friday next ensuing, for all men freely to speak their consciences in these m••••ters, that all doubts may be removed, and they fully justi|fied therein.

The Second Day's Act.

ON the 20th of October, being Friday, when it was expected they should have entered into dispu|tation of the questions proposed, the prolocutor ex|hibiting two bills to the house, the one for the natural presence of Christ in the sacrament of the altar, and the other concerning the catechism, that it was not published by the consent of that house, and that they did not agree thereunto, requiring all them to subscribe to the same as he himself had done. Whereunto the whole house accordingly assented, except six, viz. the dean of Rochester, the dean of Exeter, the archdeacon of Winchester, archdeacon of Hereford, archdeacon of Stow, and one more. And whilst the rest were about sub|scribing to these two articles, John Philpot stood up and spoke first concerning the articles of the catechism, that he thought they were deceived in the title of the catechism, for that it bore the title of the synod before this, although as to publishing thereof several of them then present were not made privy thereunto; and that because this house had granted authority to certain persons appointed by the king's majesty to make ecclesiastical laws; and whatsoever ecclesiastical laws were thereupon publish|ed by the authority of them, or the major part of them, according to a statute in that behalf made and provid|ed, it might well be said to be done by the consent of the synod of London, notwithstanding such as were members of this house now had no notice thereof before its promulgation. And therefore in this point he thought the publisher thereof had not in the least slandered the house, as they by their subscriptions were endeavouring to persuade the world, since they had one synodal authority for impowering them to make such spiritual laws, as they thought convenient and necessary.

AND moreover he said, that as to the article of the natural presence in the sacrament, it was both contrary to teason and learning, and very pre|judicial to truth, for men to be moved to subscribe before the matter was thoroughly examined and discussed. But when he saw his allegations were to no purpose, being like a man astonished at so many ancient and learned men being purposely assembled to maintain old traditions, preferable to the truth of God's holy word, he made it his re|quest to the prolocutor, that whereas on that side there were present so many learned men, as the like were not to be found again in the whole realm, and that on the other side, of those that had not subscribed there were not above five or six, and they far inferior to them both in age and learning: in order, therefore, that there might be an equality of persons concerned in this disputa|tion, he desired that the prolocutor would intercede with the lords, that some of those men that were learned, and occasioned the publishing of the cate|chism aforesaid, might be admitted into the house to shew their learning that moved them to set forth the same, and that Dr. Ridley and Mr Rogers, with two or three more, might have the liberty of being present at this disputation, and associating with them

THIS request was thought reasonable, and was therefore proposed to the bishops, who returned this answer; That it was out of their power to call such persons to the house, since some of them were prisoners; but they said, they would petition the council in this behalf, and in case any of them were absent that ought to be of the house, they were for their being admitted as they desired. After this, they minding to have entered into disputation, there came a gentleman with a message from the lord great master, signifying unto the prolocutor, that the lord great master and the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Devonshire would be present at the disputat••••••s, and therefore he deferred the same till Monday, at one o'clock in the afternoon.

The Third Day's Debate.

AT the time appointed, being Monday, October 23d, in the presence of many earls, lords, knights, and several gentlemen, both of the court and city, the prolocutor made a protestation, that the mem|bers of that house had appointed this public dispu|tation, not to call the truth in question, to which they had already subscribed, except five or six, but that gainsayers, and heretics, might be resolved respecting their doubts, by their arguments, which they supposed would be sufficiently convincing to bring them over to their opinion.

THE prolocutor then demanded of Mr. Hadden, whether he would reason against the questions that had been proposed; and Mr. Hadden replied, he would not, because they could not have such learned co-adjutors as they desired. To which Mr. Elmar added, that they had done too much prejudice al|ready to the truth, by their subscribing before the subjects to be debated were discussed, nor would it avail much to reason in defence of the true religion, against which they were now fully determined. Mr. Weston then, turning to Mr. Cheyney, desired to know, whether he (who believed with them the real presence) would propose his doubts concerning transubstantiation Mr. Cheyney answered, "I should be glad my doubts were resolved, that move me to disbelieve transubstantiation.

"The first of these arose from what St. Paul writes to the Corinthians, who, speaking of the body and blood of Christ, calls it bread after con|secretion.

"THE second from a passage out of Origen, who, speaking of this sacrament, saith, that the ma|terial part thereof goeth down to the excrements.

"THE third is out of Theodoret, who, speaking of the sacramental elements, after consecration, af|firmeth, that they go not out of their former sub|stance, form, and shape. These, among several others, are the doubts I require to be resolved."

THEN the prolocutor having appointed Dr. More|man to answer, he began with observing, that the sacrament is called by St. Paul bread indeed, by which he meant the form of bread; but Mr. Chey|ney alledged, that Hesychius called the sacrament both bread and flesh.

YES, replied Moreman, Hesychius calleth it bread, because it was bread, not because it is so. Then, passing over Origen, he said, that men, mis|took the authority of Theodoret, by interpreting a general into a special, as Peter Martyr had done, taking a Greek word, that signifies substance in its special signification, whereas, in the general, it may be applied to accidents, as well as substance; and there|fore (said he) I answer Theodoret thus, that sacra|mental bread and wine do not go out of their former substance, form, and shape, that is, not out of their accidental substance and shape.

AFTER this, Mr. Cheyney sat down, and Mr. Elmar, who could not endure to hear so weak and childish an answer to so grave an authority, arose, declaring, that Moreman's answer to Theodoret was only an illusion, or mere subtile evasion, con|trary to Theodoret'e meaning; for if the Greek word, that signifies substance, should, in the pas|sage quoted, be taken for accident, then it was a superfluous word, especially, where there are two other Greek words, which sufficiently expound the accidents of the bread; and he proved out of the same author, by divers allegations, that the Greek word that signified substance in Theodoret, could not be so generally taken in that place; but More|man still affirmed, that the Greek word that signi|fied substance, must needs signify accidental sub|stance properly. To whose obstinacy, since he could obtain no better proof, Elmar gave place.

UPON which, Mr. John Philpot stood up, and said, he could make it appear, from the whole sub|ject matter, in the place alledging, and from the similitude Theodoret uses, for proving his purpose, that Moreman's explanation of the Greek word for substance, could by no means be taken in the sense he would interpret it: for, he observed, Theodo|ret was in that place urging against the heretic Eu|tiches, who denied two natures of substance to re|main in Christ as one person, and that his humani|ty, after the accomplishment of the mystery of our salvation, ascending into heaven, and being joined to the divinity, was absorbed thereby; so that, ac|cording to his opinion, Christ was no more but of one divine substance only: against which opinion Theodoret writeth, and by the similitude, of the sacrament proveth the contrary against that heretic: for like as in the sacrament of the body of Christ, after the consecration, there is the substance of Christ's humanity, with the substance of the bread remaining as before, not being absorbed by the hu|manity of Christ, but by divine operation joined thereuto, even so, in the person of Christ, being now in heaven, of whom this sacrament is a repre|sentation, there being two several substances, his humanity and divinity, united in one hypostacy or person, which is Christ: the humanity not being absorbed by the conjunction of the divi|nity, but remaining in its former substance: and Theodoret's similitude, continued Mr. Philpot, would prove nothing, if the substance of the sacra|mental bread remained not as it did before. The heretic therefore, according to Dr. Moreman's in|terpretation, would have a strong argument to sup|port his error; and to prove himself an orthodox christian, might say to Theodoret thus: Like as thou Theodoret, if thou wert of Dr. Moreman's mind, dost say that, after the consecration in the sacrament, the substance of the bread is changed into the human body of Christ, coming thereunto, so that in the sacrament there is but one substance of the humanity alone, and not the substance of bread as it was before; even so, likewise, may I affirm and conclude from thine own similitude, that the humanity ascending up by the power of God into heaven, and adjoined to deity, was absorbed, and turned into one substance with the deity; so that there remaineth but one divine substance in Christ, no more than in the sacramental signs of the Lord's supper, after the consecration, doth remain any more than one substance, according to your be|lief and construction. In attempting to answer this, Dr. Moreman was so closely pressed, that he began to stagger; which Philpot perceiving, spake in this manner, "Well, master Moreman, if you have no answer ready at present, consider of one, if you can conveniently, against our next meeting."

AT these words the prolocutor was exceedingly offended and troubled, telling him, that he should not brag there, but be fully answered. To which Philpot returned, "It is the only thing I desire, to be answered directly on this point of dispute▪ and I request of you, and of all the house here present,

that I may be sufficiently answered, which I am sure you cannot do, taking Theodoret's authority, and similitude, as they ought to be taken." Where|upon, without any further reply, or answer to his reasoning, Philpot was commanded to be silent.

AFTER he had sat down, the dean of Rochester arose, offering to dispute against the real presence, wishing that the scriptures, and the ancient doc|tors, might be weighed, believed, and followed, in this point, And he thought a sufficient argument against it, was that saying of Christ, in St. Matthew, where he says, that the poor we should have always with us, but him we should not have always, which the dean said, was spoken concerning the natural presence of Christ's body, and therefore Christ can|not be naturally present on earth in the sacrament of the altar. To this the prolocutor answered, that we should not have Christ present always to exercise alms deeds, but upon the poor.

THE dean then prosecuted his argument, and quoted St. Austin to prove, that the same interpre|tation of the scripture alledged by Mr. Weston was no sufficient answer; for St. Austin, in the 50th treatise on St. John, speaketh thus on the same sentence; "When Christ said, Me ye shall not have always with you he spake of the presence of his body. For by his majesty, by his providence, by his unspeakable and invisible grace, that is fulfilled which is said of him, Behold I am with you until the consummation of the world. But in the flesh which the word took upon him, in that which was born of the virgin, in that which was appre|hended by the Jews, which was crucified on the cross▪ which was let down from the cross, which was wrapped in cloths, which was hid in the sepul|chre, which was manifested in the resurrection, you shall not have me always with you. And why? For after a bodily presence he was conversant with his disciples forty days, and they accompanying him, seeing and not allowing him, he ascended and is not here; for there he sitteth at the right hand of the Father; and yet here he is because he is not departed in the presence of his majesty After ano••her manner we have Christ always by the presence of his majesty; but after the presence of his flesh it is rightly said, you shall not verily 〈◊〉〈◊〉 me always with you. For the church had him in the presence of his flesh a few days, and now by faith it apprehendeth him, and seeth him not with eyes."

TO this authority Dr. Watson answered, and said, he would answer St. Augustine by St. August|ine, and having a certain book in his hand of notes, he alledged out of the 70th treatise of St. John, that after that mortal condition and manner we have not now Christ on earth, as he was heretofore before his passion.

Mr. Philpot replied, saying, that Mr. Watson had not fully answered St. Augustine by St Au|gustine, for that in the place mentioned by the dean of Rochester, he doth not only treat of the mortal state of Christ's body before his passion, but also the immortal condition of the same after his resurrection: in which mortal body St. August|ine seemeth plainly to affirm, that Christ is not present upon the earth, neither in form visibly, neither in corporal substance invisibly, as in a few lines after the place above alledged, St. Augustine doth more plainly declare by these words, "Now these two manners of Christ's presence declared, which is by his majesty, providence, and grace, now present in the world, which before his ascension was present in the flesh; and which being now placed at the right hand of the Father, is absent from the world, I think there remains no further dispute about the matter.

THEREFORE, if St. Augustine allowed no other presence of Christ here on earth, but only his divine presence, and that his humanity was in heaven, we ought to confess and believe the same. But if we put a third presence of Christ, that is corporally to be present always in the sacrament of the altar, invisibly, according to your suppositions, whereof St. Augustine maketh no mention in all his works, you seem to judge that which St. Augustine did never comprehend.

WHY, said Watson, does not St. Augustine, in the place I alledged, make mention how St. Ste|phen, being in this world, saw Christ after his ascension.

IT is true, said Philpot, but he saw Christ as

the scripture saith, in the heavens, being open, stand|ing at the right hand of God the Father: at which Watson was silent.

THE dean proceeded to support his argument, and, to this end, read out of a book of annotations sundry authorities, to which Moreman, who was appointed to answer him, made no direct answer, but desired him to frame an argument, saying, the dean had recited many doctors' words, but had not made one argument. Thus challenged, the dean made the following argument from the institution of the sacrament; "Do this in remembrance of me; and thus ye shall shew forth the Lord's death till he come."

THE sacrament is the remembrance of Christ; there|fore, the sacrament is not the very Christ; for as yet he is not come, for these words, "until he come," do plainly signify the absence of Christ's body. Then the prolocutor went about to shew, that these words, "until he come," did not import any absence of Christ on the earth, by other places of scripture, where the word, "until," was made use of: but directly to the purpose he answered nothing. In fine, the dean questioned Moreman, whether Christ did eat the pascal lamb with his disciples, or not? He answered, Yes. He further demanded, whe|ther upon instituting the sacrament, he did eat the sacrament with them? Moreman answered, Yes. Then he asked what he did eat, and whether he did eat his own natural body, as they imagined it to be, or not? Which when Moreman had affirmed, then, said the dean, it is a great absurdity by you granted; and so he sat down.

AFTERWARDS the prolocutor demanded of Mr. Philpot, whether he would argue against the natu|ral presence, or not? He answered, Yes, if he would hear his argument without interruption, and assign one to answer him, and not many, which occasioned confusion, and especially to him who had but a bad memory. By this time the night ap|proached: on which account the prolocutor put an end to the disputation, and appointed Mr. Phil|pot to begin the same the next day, concerning the presence of Christ in the sacrament.

The FOURTH DAY'S DEBATE.

ON Wednesday, October 25th, Mr. John Phil|pot was prepared to enter upon the disputation, intending first, to have made an oration in Latin; which being known by the prolocutor, he com|manded him to make no declaration or oration in Latin, but to deliver his arguments in English. This is contrary, said Philpot, to your order at the beginning of this disputation; for then you ap|pointed that all the arguments should be made in Latin, and thereupon I have drawn and devised all mine arguments in Latin: and because you, Mr. Prolocutor, have said heretofore, openly in this house, that I have no learning, I intended to shew such learning as I have, in a brief oration, and short declaration of the questions now in controversy, thinking it so most convenient also, that in case I should speak otherwise in my declaration than should stand with learning, or than I were able to warrant, and justify God's word, it might the bet|ter be reformed by such as were learned of the house, so that the unlearned being present, might take the less offence thereat. But this prevailed nothing with the prolocutor, who still insisted up|on his forming an argument in English, or else to hold his peace.

THEN said Philpot, you have much disappointed me, thus suddenly to go from your former order: but I will accomplish your commandments, leaving mine oration apart, and I will come to my argu|ments, which, as well as so sudden a warning will serve, I will make in English. But before I bring forth any argument, I will in one word declare what manner of presence I disallow in the sacrament, to the intent the hearers may the better understand to what end and effect mine arguments shall tend: not to deny utterly the presence of Christ in his sacra|ment, truly ministered according to his institution, but only to deny that gross and carnal presence, which you of this house have already subscribed unto, to be in the sacrament of the altar, contrary to the true and manifest meaning of the scriptures: that by transubstantiation of the sacramental bread and wine, Christ's natural body should, by virtue of the words pronounced by the priest, be contained and included under the forms or accidents of bread and wine. This kind of presence imagined by men, I do deny, and against this I will reason. But be|fore he could make an end of what he was about, he was interrupted by the prolocutor, and com|manded

to descend to his argument: at whose un|just importunity Philpot being offended, and ho|ping to find remedy, fell down upon his knees before the earls and lords which were there present, being a great number, whereof some were of the queen's council, beseeching them that he might have liberty to prosecute his arguments without interruption, which was readily granted by the lords. But the prolocuto•• making use of a point of the practice of prelates, would not condescend to it, but still cried, "Hold your peace, or else make a short argument." "I intend it," said Philpot, "if you will let me alone: but first I must ask a question of my respondent, Dr. Chedsey, concern|ing a word or two of your supposition, that is▪ of the sacrament of the altar, what he meaneth there|by." Dr. Chedsey answered, that, in their suppo|sition, they took the sacrament of the altar, and the sacrament of the mass, to be all one. Then said Mr. Philpot, by Mr. Prolocutor's leave, I will speak plain English, and to be short, I say, that the sacrament of the altar, which ye reckon to be all one with the mass, once justly abolished, but now put in full force again, is no sacrament, neither is Christ in any manner present in it, and this he offered to prove before the queen, the council, or before six of the most learned men of that house, of a contrary opinion, and refused none: if, (said he) I shall not be able, by God's word, to maintain what I have asserted, and confound those six who shall withstand me in this point, let me be burned with as many faggots as can be found in London, before the court-gate. This he spake with the utmost zeal and courage.

AT this the prolocutor, with many others, were very much offended, demanding of him, whether he knew what he said. Yes, replied Mr. Philpot, I know very well what I say, and I desire that no man may be offended at it, for I speak no more than by the word of God I am able to prove; and prai|sed be God, that the queen's grace hath granted us of this house (as our prolocutor hath informed us) the free liberty of declaring our opinions, agreeable ••o our consciences in these matters of controversy in religion; and therefore I will here freely speak the dictates of my conscience▪ grounded upon God's holy 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for the truth, although some of you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 presen•• do not like it.

THEN Mr. Weston, with others, taunted and re|proved him, for speaking so indecently against the sacrament of the mass. The prolocutor also told him he was mad, and threatened to send him to prison.

MR. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hearing himself abused, and not permitted the free liberty to speak his mind, thus exclaimed, casting his eyes towards heaven, O Lord! what a world is this, that the truth of thy holy word cannot be spoken and endured! And while he said these words, being full of sorrow, the tears were seen to trickle from his eyes.

THE prolocutor, being moved by some that were about him, consented that he should make an argu|ment, provided he would be brief. I will be as short, (said Philpot) as I can conveniently, in utter|ing all I have to say. And, first, I will lay the foundation of my arguments upon the authority of scripture, whereon all the buildings of our faith ought to be grounded; after which, I intend to con|firm the same by the ancient fathers of the church. My first argument is drawn from the 28th chapter of St. Matthew, in which the angel says to Mary, who sought for Christ at the sepulchre, "He is risen, he is not here;" and again, St. Luke, chap|ter 23d, the angel asketh them, "Why seek ye the living among the dead?" In which places the scriptures testifieth, that Christ was risen, ascended into heaven, and now sitteth at the right hand of the Father: all which is spoken of his natural body; therefore, it cannot be on earth included in the sacra|ment, I will confirm this yet more effectually, from the 16th of St. John, where Christ saith, "I came from my Father into the world, and now I leave the world and go to my Father." Which coming and going he meant of his natural body; therefore we may consequently affirm, that it is not found in the world, nor can be in the sacrament.

BUT I expect here to be answered with a blind distinction; that he is visibly departed in his huma|nity, but remaineth invisibly in the sacrament; but that no such idle distinction can take away the force of my argument, will appear from the answer which Christ's disciples returned, saying, "Now thou speakest plainly, and utterest no proverb;" which words St. Cyril interpreting saith, that our Saviour

spake without any ambiguity, or figure of speech, and therefore I do from thence conclude, that if Christ spake plainly, and without parable, then that obscure, dark, and imperceptible presence of Christ's natural body remaining in the sacrament invisibly upon earth, contrary to the plain words of Christ, ought not to be allowed: for nothing can be more uncertain, parabolical, and absurd, than so to say. I will now give attention to your answer, and then descend to confirm what I have said by ancient writers.

THEN Dr. Chedsey, reciting his argument as it was made, took upon him to answer every part thereof severally. First, to the saying of the angel, That Christ is not here, and, Why seek ye the liv|ing among the dead? He answered that these say|ings pertained nothing to the presence of Christ's natural body in the sacrament, but that they were spoke of Christ's body being in the sepulchre, when the three Marys thought him to have been in the grave still. And therefore the angel said, Why do ye seek him that liveth among the dead? And to the authority of St. John, where Christ saith, Now I leave the world and go to my Father; he meant that of his ascension. And so likewise did Cyril, interpreting the saying of the disciples, that they knew plainly that Christ would visibly ascend into heaven▪ but that doth not exclude the invisible presence of his natural body in the sacrament. For St. Chrysostom, writing to the people of An|tioch, doth affirm the same, comparing Elias and Christ together, and Elias's cloak, and Christ's flesh. "When Elias (saith he) was taken up in the fiery chariot, he left his cloak behind him unto his disciple Elis••ous. But Christ ascending into heaven, took his flesh with him, and left also his flesh behind him." From whence we may justly conclude, that Christ's flesh is visibly ascend|ed into heaven, and abideth still invisibly in the sa|crament of the altar.

TO this Philpot replied, and said You have not directly answered to the saying of the angel, Christ is risen, and is not here, because you have omitted that which was the chief point of all. For, said he, I proceed further, as thus, He is risen, ascended, and sitteth at the right hand of God the Father: therefore, he is not remaining on earth. Neither 〈◊〉〈◊〉 your answer to Cyril, by me alledged, sufficient. But I will presently return to your interpretation of Cyril, and plainly declare it, after I have refuted the authority of Chrysostom, which is one of the chief principles that you alledged to make for your gross carnal presence in the sacrament; which be|ing well weighed and understood, pertaineth no|thing thereunto.

AT this the prolocutor startled, that one of the chief pillars in this point should be overthrown; and therefore he recited the said authority, first in Latin, and afterwards he turned it into English, and desired all that were present to remark the say|ing of Chrysostom, which he thought invincible on their own side. But I will make it appear (said Philpot) by and by, that it doth make little for your purpose. And as he was decl••••••ng his mind in this particular, the prolocutor inte••••••pted him, as he frequently did. With which Philpot being displeased, said, Mr. Prolocutor thinketh he is in a sophistry school, where he well knoweth the man|ner is, that when the respondent perceiveth, that he is like to be inforced with an argument, which he is not able to answer, he doth what he can, by ca|villing, and interruption, to drive him from the same. This saying of Philpot was ill taken by the prolocutor and his adherents; and the prolocutor said, ••hat Philpot could bring nothing to avoid that authority, but his own vain imagination. Hear, said Philpot, and afterwards judge; for I will do in this, as in all other authorities, wherewith you shall take upon you to refute any of my arguments that I have to prosecute, answering the same either by sufficient authorities of scripture or else by some other testimony of like authority with your's, and not of my own imagination; which▪ I do, I desire it to be of no credit.

AS to your authority from St. Chrysostom, I have two objections against that to propose; one drawn from scripture, the other from the very place of Chrysostom himself here by you alledged.

FIRST, where he seemeth to say, that Christ as|cending took his flesh with him, and left his flesh also behind him; it is true; for the fl••sh Christ took with him was that which he received from the virgin Mary, and the flesh he left behind was not his natural body, but the members of his visible

church; as St. Paul doth aptly testify, when he says, Eph. v. "We are flesh of his flesh, and bone of his bones." And if any one will reply, that he there treateth of the sacrament, and that this interpretation cannot so properly be applied to him in that place, then I will explain St. Chrysos|tom another way by himself, for a few lines be••fore those now quoted, are these words: "That Christ, after he ascended into heaven, left to us, indued with his sacraments, his flesh in mysteries, that is, sacramentally; and that mystical flesh Christ leaveth as well to his church in the sacrament of baptism, as in the the sacramental bread and wine." "As many (saith St. Paul) as are bapti|zed in Christ, have put on Christ." Hence you may perceive, that St. Chrysostom makes nothing for your gross carnal presence in the sacrament, as you wrongly interpret him.

NOW in the mean time, while Mr. Philpot was speaking, Mr. Pie, whispering the prolocutor in the car, urged him to silence Philpot, fearing, if he held on longer, he would wholly overthrow their opinion of the carnal presence, seeing he had already given one of its main supporters such a blow. The prolocutor, therefore, said to Mr. Philpot, that he had reasoned long enough, and that some other should supply his room, at which Mr. Philpot, being much displeased, said, Why, sir, I have a dozen arguments to propose concerning this matter, and I have as yet scarce gone over the first; for being hitherto hindered, through your fre|quent interruptions, I have not, for confirmation, quoted any ancient writers, though I could a great man••. Well, returned the prolocutor, you shall sp••••k no more now, and I command you to be silent. You perceive, said Mr. Philpot, that I am able to controvert your fals•• supposition, and there|fore you command me to be silent. If you will not give place, said Mr. Weston, I will send you to prison. This is not, replied Philpot, according to your promise made in this house, nor yet to your bra••s made at Paul's Cross, that men should be answer••d in this disputation to whatever they can say, sinc•• of a dozen arguments you will not suffer me ••o prosecute one. Here Mr. Pie took upon him to promise, that he should be answered ano|ther day. But Mr. Philpot, seeing he could not proceed as he designed, was justly offended thereat, and concluded with the following words:—"A sort of you here, who hitherto have lurked in ••orners, and dissembled with God and the world, are now gathered together to suppress the sin|cere truth of God's holy word, and to set forth every false device, which by the catholic doctrine of the scripture ye are not able to maintain."

THEN stood up Mr. Elmar, chaplain to the duke of Suffolk, whom Mr. Moreman took upon him to answer; but Mr. Elmar's allegations so incum|bered his respondent, that he desired a day to over|look them, for at that instant he was without a proper answer.

THE prolocutor now called upon Mr. Haddon, dean of Exeter, and a chaplain to the duke of Suffolk, who prosecuted Mr. Elmar's argument. Dr. Watson, who attempted to answer him, was so confounded, that he was not able to explain suf|ficiently the word Mysterium (Mystery). But as he seemed to doubt therein, Mr. Haddon took out of his bosom a Latin author, to confirm what he had advanced, and, shewing the same to Dr. Wat|son, asked him, whether he thought that translation to be a just one, or that the printer were in fault: to which Watson replied, there may be a fault in the printer, for I am not remembered of this word. Then Mr Haddon took out of his bosom a Greek book, wherein he pointed to the same word, which Mr. Watson could not deny. The further argu|ments that were made use of, we shall omit declar|ing, because they were mostly in Greek, as were those also of Mr. Elmar's.

THEN Mr. Perne stood up, and argued against transubstantiation, confirming the authorities al|ledged by the two former speakers. When the prolocutor, interrupting, said, "I wonder, Mr. Porne, at your speaking thus, for no longer than last Friday you subscribed to the contrary." For which censure Mr. Elmar blamed the prolocutor, telling him, that he ought not to reprehend any man, because, said he, this house is a house of free liberty for every man to speak according to his con|science, and because but yesterday he promised this liberty to any man, notwithstanding he had sub|scribed.

NIGHT now approaching, and the time being expired, the prolocutor, though he praised them

for their learning, concluded with observing, that, all reasoning set apart, the order of Holy Church must be received, and all things ordered thereby.

The Fifth Day's Debate.

ON Friday, October 27th, the prolocutor open|ed the debate, with observing, that the convocation had spent two days in disputing about one father, which was Theodoret, and about one Greek word, (••usia) and now they were assembled to answer all things that could be objected, therefore he desired they would shortly propound their arguments. Upon this Mr. Haddon dean of Exeter, requested leave to oppose Mr. Watson, who, with Morgan and Harpsfi••••d, were appointed to answer him. Mr. Haddon then demanded, if any substance of bread and wine remained after consecration? To which Watson replied, by asking another question, namely, whether he thought there was a real pre|sence of Christ's body or not? Mr. Haddon said, it was not agreeable to order, that one, who was appointed to be respondent should be opponent; nor should he, whose business was to object, answer. Mr. Haddon then proceeded to shew, from the words of Theodoret, that the substance of bread and wine remained: for his words are, "The same they were before the sanctification, which they are after." Mr. Watson said, that Theodoret meant not the same substance, but the same essence. Whereupon they were driven again to a discussion of the Greek word above-mentioned; and Mr. Haddon proved it to mean a substance, both by its etymology, and by the words of Theodoret; for, said he, ••usia cometh from the particle on, which descendeth to the verb 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and so cometh the noun ••usia, which signifieth substance. Mr. Wat|son said, it had not that signification only: but, in that place, Mr. Haddon proved, it could not sig|nify otherwise. He then asked Watson, when the bread and wine became symbols? Watson answer|ed, After consecration, and not before. Then Mr. Haddon raised out of his author the following syllogism (being an argument of three proposi|tions.)

(1) THEODORET saith, that the same thing the bread and wine were, before they were symbols, the same they remain still, in nature and substance, after they are symbols,

(2) BREAD and wine they were before.

(3) THEREFORE, bread and wine they are after.

MR. WATSON, when he could not answer, had recourse to the shameful subterfuge of discrediting the authority of Theodoret, by saying, he was a Nestorian; at the same time, turning to Mr. Chey|ney, who stood by, he desired to answer him, inti|mating, that he was more fit, than Mr. Haddon, to dispute upon this point, because he had grant|ed and subscribed to the real presence. Being thus addressed with an insinuation that required an immediate reply, Mr, Cheyney applied to the house, and requested the patience of those honour|able men to hear him, hoping so to open the mat|ter, that the truth should appear; protesting, that he was no obstinate nor stubborn man, but would be conformable to all reason; and if they, by their learning, which he acknowledged to be much more than his, could answer his reasons, then he would be ruled by them, and say as they said; for he would be no author of schism, nor hold any thing contrary to the holy mother, the church, which is the spouse of Christ. Dr. Weston liking this very well, commended him highly, telling him, that he was a very learned and sober man, and well experienced in all good learning, and in the doctors; and finally a man, for his knowledge, fit to dispute in that place; I pray you hear him, quoth he. Then Mr. Cheyney desired those that were present to pray to God with him in two words, and to say, Vinc••t veritas, "Let truth take place, and have the victory;" and all that were present cri|ed with a loud voice, Vinc••t veritas, Vincat veritas.

DR. WESTON told them it was hypocritical, and that they had better say, Vicit veritas, "Truth hath gotten the victory." Mr. Cheyney said again, If you will give me leave, I will come to the point, that you may truly say so. Then ad|dressing himself particularly to Mr. Watson, he began after this manner.

YOU said that Mr. Haddon was not fit to dis|pute, because he had not granted the natural and

real presence; but I say you are much less fit to answer, because you, take away the substance of the sacrament. Watson said, that he had sub|scribed to the real presence, and should not go away from that: so said the prolocutor and the other priests; so that for a long time he could not have leave to proceed, till the lords desired that he should be heard. He now explained what he meant by subscribing to the real presence, far otherwise than they supposed. He then prosecuted Haddon's ar|gument, proving that the Greek word before dis|cussed was a substance, using the the same reason that Haddon did; and when he had received the same answer that was made to Haddon, he told them it was but a poor refuge, when they could not answer, to deny the author, and proved the author to be a catholic doctor; that being proved, he further confirmed what was said of the nature and substance. The similitude of Theodoret is this, said he, as the tokens of Christ's body and blood, after the invocation of the priest, do change their names, and yet continue the same substance; so the body of Christ after his ascension, changed his name, and was called immortal, yet it had his former fashion, figure, and circumscription, and, to speak in one word, the same substance of his body. Therefore, if in the former part of the si|militude you deny the same substance to continue, th••n in the latter part of the similitude, which agreeth with it, I will deny the body of Christ, after 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ascension, to have the former nature and sub|stance. But that were a great heresy: therefore it 〈◊〉〈◊〉 also a great heresy to take away the substance of bread and wine after consecration. In answer to this, Watson was obliged to say, that the substance of the body, in the former part of the similitude brought in by him, did signify quantity, and other accidents of the sacramental tokens which are seen, and not the very substance of the same; and therefore Theodoret says, Those things which are seen. For according to philosophy, the accidents of things are seen, and not the substances.

CHEYNEY then appealed to the nobility, and desired that they would give no credit to them in so saying: for if they think as they ••••ach, after your lordships have ridden forty miles on horse|back (as your business sometimes may require) you shall not be able to say at night, that you saw your horses all the day, but only the colour of them: and by this reason Christ must go to school, and learn of Aristotle how to speak. For when he saw Na|thaniel under the fig-tree, if Aristotle had stood by, he would have said, No, Christ, thou didst not see him, but the colour of him. Then said Wat|son, suppose it were granted that Theodoret was on the other side, where there were one of that opinion, there were an hundred on the other.

THE prolocutor here perceiving, that Mr. Wat|son was closely attacked, called upon Mr. Morgan to help him out, who said, that Theodoret did no more than what he might lawfully do; for, first, he granted the truth, and then, for fear of such as were not fully instructed in the faith, he spake mystically: he granted the truth, by calling the bread and wine, the body and blood of Christ; after which he seems to give somewhat of the senses and to reason: but that Theodoret was of the same opinion with them, will appear from his words that follow, which are the cause of what went before; there|fore he says, The immortality, &c. whereby it seemeth, that he meant the divine nature, and not the human. Morgan was then detected in misap|plying the text; for the book had not this word [for] and the Greek word did rather signify [truly], whence it plainly appeared, that it was the begin|ning of a new matter, and not a sentence rendering a cause of that he had said before.

WATSON now repeated what he had before said: "Suppose Theodoret be on your side, of whom we never beard in print, before two or three years ago▪ yet he is but one; and what is one against the con|sent of the whole church?" Cheyney affirmed, that not only Theodoret was of his opinion, that the substance of bread and wine do remain, but many others also, particularly Irenaeus, who making mention of this sacrament, says thus: "When the cup which is mingled with wine, and the bread which is broken, do receive the word of God, it is made the Eucharist of the body and blood of Christ, by which the substance of our flesh is nour|ished, and doth consist." From whence I infer, that if the thanksgiving do nourish our body, then there is some substance besides Christ's body. To

this both Watson and Morgan replied, observing that [by which,] in that sentence of Irenaeus, was to be referred to the next antecedent, that is, to the body and blood of Christ; and not to the wine which is in the cup, and the bread which is broken. Mr. Cheyney said, that it was not the body of Christ which nourished our bodies; and granting that the flesh of Christ nourisheth to immortality, yet it doth not make for their argument, although it might be true; no more than that answer which was made to my allegation out of St. Paul, The bread which we break, &c. with many others; whereunto you answered, that bread was not to be taken there in its proper signification, that is, not for that it was bread, but for that it had been so; any more than the ••od of Aaron was taken for a serpen••, 〈…〉〈…〉 had been a serpent. After this, Mr. 〈…〉〈…〉 ••esychius, and used the same reason that he did concerning the burning of sym|bols; and asked them, what was burnt? Mr. Watson said, we must not enquire no•• ask, but if there wa•• any fault, impute it to Christ. Then said Mr Cheyney, whence came those ashes, if not from substance? or can any substance arise from accidents?

HERE Mr. Harpsfield was called in to the assist|ance of Watson, and to hear what he could say to this matter; who began with a fair preamble about the omnipotency of God, and the weakness of hu|man reason as to the comprehensio•• and attainme••t of religious matters; and said, that whatsoever we saw, felt, or tasted, it was not convenient to trust our senses — The very pith and marrow of popery this.) He also related a curious legend out of St. Cyprian, how a woman saw the sacrame•••• burning in her coffer; and that which burned thus, said Harpsfield, burneth here, and becometh ashes; but what that was which burnt, he could not tell. Mr. Cheyney continued still to force them with this question—What was it that was burnt?—••t was either, said he, the substance of bread, or else the substance of the body of Christ, wh••ch was too great an absurdity to grant. At length they answered; it was a miracle▪ at which Mr. Cheyney smiling, said, that he would then say no more.

THEN Dr. Weston, the p••olocator, asked the company, whether those men had been sufficiently answered, or not? To which certain priests said, Yes; but as to the great multitude of people, these exclaimed—No, no•• they were not heard; and the clamour was so great, that it was heard almost to the end of St. Paul's: whereat Dr. Weston, be|ing much incensed, answered sharply, that he asked not the judgment of the rude multitude, and un|learned people, but such as were members of that house. Having said this with much acrimony, be asked Mr. Haddon and his fellow-disputants, whe|ther they would answer them other three days? Mr. Haddon, Cheyney, and Elmar answered, No. Upon which the archdeacon of Winchester, Mr. Philpot, stood up, and said, they should be answer|ed; and though all others refused to answer, yet he would not; but offered to answer them all in turns: with whose offer the prolocutor being dissatisfied▪ railed at him, saying that he should go to Bedlam; to whom the archdeacon returned gravely this ••••|swer, that he deserved much more to be sent thi|ther, who behaved himself so furiously in the dis|putation, without any indifferent equality.

TO this Dr. Weston made no reply, but rising up addressed the house, saying▪ All the compa•••• here have subscribed, these men whom you see one excepted. What their reasons are you have he••re. We have answered them three days, upon promis••, (which was a false assertion for no such promise was made that they should answer us again, as long as the order of disputation continued, and, if they be able to defend their doctrine, let them do so.

THEN stood up Mr. ••••mar, and shewed how va•••• a man Mr. Weston wa••▪ for he affirmed they never promised to dispute▪ but only to declare and testify to the world their consciences. For when they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 required to subscribe, they refused, alledging▪ that they would shew good reasons which moved them, that they could not, agreeable to their 〈◊〉〈◊〉, subscribe; as they had partly done already, and were able to do more effectually. Therefore, continued he, it hath been ill called a disputation, and they are much to blame who called it so. We meant not to dispute, nor now intend to answer, be|fore our arguments, which we have to propound, be s••••ved, according as it was appointed: for, b••

answering, we should but incumber ourselves and profit nothing, since the matter is already decreed on, and d••termined, whatsoever we may prove by dispute to the contrary.

The Sixth Day's Debate.

ON Monday following, October the 30th, the prolocutor demanded of M••. Philpot, whether, in the questions, before propounded, he would answer their objections or not? To whom he made this answer; that he would willingly do so, if, accord|ing to their former determination and promise, they would first answer fully some of his arguments, of which he had a dozen, not half the first being de|cided; and if they would answer but one of his arguments sufficiently, he would reply to all the ob|jections they could bring. The prolocutor bid him state his argument, and it should be resolutely controverted by some of them; whereunto Mor|gan was appointed. Mr. Philpot then proceeded. On Wednesday last, said he, I was forced to silence before I had half prosecuted my argument, the sum of which was, that the human body of Christ was ascended into heaven, and placed at the right hand of God the Father: wherefore, after the ima|gination of man, it could not be situated upon earth invisibly in the sacrament of the altar. The argu|ment was denied by Morgan; but for proof hereof, Philpot said, that this was what he had to confirm his first argument with, if they would have suffered him the other day, as he hoped they would now. He thus proceeded with his argument.

(1) O•••• self-same nature receiveth not in itself any thing that is contrary to itself.

(2) BUT the body of Christ is a human nature, distinct from the deity, and is a proper nature of itself.

(3) ••••GO, therefore it cannot receive any thing that is contrary to that nature, and that varieth from itself.

BUT bodily to be present, and to be absent bodily, to be on earth, and to be in heaven, and all at one present time, are things contrary to the nature of an human body. Therefore, it cannot be said of the human body of Christ, that the self-same body is both in heaven, and also on the earth at one instant, either visibly or invisibly. Morgan denied the first part of the argument, which Philpot supported out of Vigilius, an ancient writer; yet still Morgan c••villed thereat, and said it was no scripture, and desired him to prove the same from scripture. Philpot deduced the same from St. Paul, who says, that "Christ is like unto us in all points, ex|cept sin; therefore, like as one of our bodies cannot receive in itself any thing contrary to the nature of a body, as to be in St. Paul's church and at West|minster in one instant, or to be at London visibly, and at Lincoln invisibly at one time; so, in like manner, the body of Christ cannot be in more places than one, which is in heaven, and consequently is not included or contained in the sacrament of the altar. But, said the prolocutor, it is not true, that Christ was like unto us in all points, since he was not conceived by the seed of man as we are. Philpot replied, that Christ's conception was pro|phesied before by the angel to be supernatural, but after he had received our nature by the operati|on of the Holy Ghost in the virgin's womb, he became in all points like unto us, except sin.

THEN Morgan affirmed, that these words of St. Paul did not plainly prove his purpose. Well, said Philpot, I perceive you answer only by cavilling, yet I am not destitute of other scriptures, though you refuse the testimony of so ancient and catholic a doctor as Vigilius is. St. Peter, making men|tion of Christ in the 3d chapter of the Acts, says, "Whom heaven must receive, until the consumma|tion of all things," &c. which words are spoken of his humanity; and if heaven must hold Christ, then can he not be here on earth, in the sacrament, as is pretended. Morgan laughing at this, and giving no direct answer, Harpsfield, one of the bishop of London's chaplains, stood up, and de|manded of Mr. Philpot, whether he would of necessity force Christ to any place, or not? Philpot returned, that he would no otherwise force Christ of necessity to any place, than what the words of the Holy Ghost teach, namely, that Christ's human body must abide in heaven until the day of judg|ment. To which Harpsfield replied, Do you know that God is a God omnipotent: Yes, said Philpot, I know that right well▪ but as to Christ's omnipo|tency,

what he can do, is not our question, but ra|ther, what he actually doth: he may make worlds; but doth he therefore so? It were no good conse|quent to conclude, because he may or can do this or that, therefore he doth do it.

SYLLOGISTIC ARGUMENT.

ONLY so much is to be believed of God's omnipotency, as is in the word expressed.

THAT Christ's body is both in heaven, and here also really in the sacrament, is not expressed in the word.

ERGO, (therefore) it is not to be believed, that the body of Christ, being in heaven, is here in the sacrament.

WHY, returned the prolocutor, then you will put Christ in prison in heaven. To which Philpot answered, Do you reckon heaven to be a prison? God grant us all to come to that prison.

AFTER this, Harpsfield affirmed, that the Latin word, oportet, in St. Peter, (in English, must) did not import, as Philpot would infer, a necessity, which might be made appear from other places of scripture, as in the first to Timothy, where St. Paul saith, A bishop must be the husband of one wife. Here the word oportet doth not mean necessity, but a possibility, that he, who never was married, may be a bishop. To which Philpot replied, that the two passages he compared were not alike; and that in comparing the scriptures we must not consider the bare words, but rather their import; and in one place, quoted by him, St. Paul declares of what quality a bishop ought to be; but in the other St. Peter refers to the place where Christ must necessa|rily be until the end of the world; which we ought to believe to be true. And this comparison of the Latin word, oportet, is no more an answer to my argument, than if I was to say of you, now being here, you must needs be here, which importeth such a necessity for the time, that you can no otherwise but be here; yet you would endeavour, in words, to avoid this necessity with another oportet in another sense, as for instance, you must be a good man, where must doth not indeed imply any such necessity, but that you may be an evil man. Thus your reasoning is not conclusive, and by no means an answer to my argument.

THE prolocutor, to help the matter out, if pos|sible, brought up another oportet, saying, Oportet hareses esse; must heresies needs be therefore, be|cause of this word oportet? Certainly, returned Philpot, it cannot otherwise be, if you will add what immediately followeth, ut qui electi sunt mani|festentur, meaning, "that such as be the elect of God may be manifest and known." But, said the prolocutor, the time hath been that no such heresies were. I know not of any such time, said Philpot; for since the time of Abel and Cain heresies have been, and then began. Then said the prolocutor, Will you not now answer Morgan an argument or two? I will, said Philpot, if I may have my argu|ments first answered fairly, according to truth and learning. What! said the prolocutor, will you never be answered? How I am answered, return|ed Philpot, let all here present judge, especially men of learning, and with what cavilling you have trifled with me. First, to the ancient authority of Vigi|lius, you have answered nothing, except denying what he saith to be scripture. Secondly, to the words of St. Peter, in the Acts, ye have answered, by demanding, whether I would keep Christ in pri|son, or not? Let men now judge if this be a suffi|cient answer, or not? Upon this Morgan stood up again, and asked Philpot, whether he would be ruled by the universal church, or not? Ye••, said Philpot, if it be the true catholic church; and since you speak so much of the church, I would have you declare what the church is. The church, said Mor|gan, is diffused and dispersed throughout the whole world. That is a diffuse definition, said Philpot, for I am yet as uncertain as I was before, what you mean by the church; but is it not what was groun|ded and founded on the word of God, as St. Paul saith upon the foundation of the apostles and pro|phets? What! quoth Moreman, was the scripture before the church? Yes, answered Philpot. But I will prove the contrary, returned Moreman; and I will begin at the time of Christ. The church of Christ was before any scripture written: for Mat|thew was the first who wrote a gospel, about a dozen years after Christ: therefore, the church was be|fore the scripture. Philpot denied his argument;

and shewed it to be a fallacy; for he took the scrip|ture to be only that which was written by men in letters: whereas in truth, all prophecy uttered by the Spirit of God, was counted to be scripture, be|fore it was written in paper and ink, for it was written in the hearts, and graven in the minds, yea, and inspired in the mouths of good men, and of the apostles, by the Spirit of Christ. The salutation of the angel was the scripture of Christ, or the word of God, before it was written. Moreman cried, Fie, fie! wondering that the scripture of God should be counted scripture before it was written, and affirm|ed, he had no knowledge who said so. To whom Philpot replied, that as to knowledge in this mat|ter, for the trial of truth, about the questions in controversy, he would wish himself no worse match|ed than with Moreman.

AT this the prolocutor was highly offended, say|ing to Philpot, it was speaking arrogantly, to compare himself with such a worshipful learned man as Mr. Moreman was, being himself a man un|learned, yea, a madman, fitter to be sent to Bedlam, than to be among such learned and grave men as were there, and a man who never would be answer|ed, and one who troubled the whole house; and therefore he commanded him to come no more into that house, of whom he demanding, whether they would agree thereunto, or not, a great compa|ny answered, Yes, Philpot returned, he might think himself happy, who was out of their com|pany.

THEN Morgan rose up, and whispered the prolo|cutor in the ear; and the prolocutor spoke to Phil|pot again, and said, lest thou shouldst slander the house, and say, that we will not suffer you to de|clare your mind, we are content you shall come into the house as you have done before, so that you be apparelled with a long gown and a tippet, as we be, and that you shall not speak but when I command you. Then, said Philpot, I had rather be absent altogether.

THUS they reasoned pro and con, till at length, about the 13th of December, queen Mary took up the matter, and sending to Bonner, bishop of Lon|don, commanding him to dissolve and break up the convocation.

The following is a Translation of the QUEEN'S PRE|CEPT to BONNER, Bishop of LONDON, for dissolving the CONVOCATION.

"MARY, &c. To the Rev. Father in God, Edmund, Lord Bishop of London, sendeth greeting. Whereas there is now held at Paul's, London, the convocation of the clergy belonging to the province of Canterbury; we, by and with the consent of our council, and for divers other causes and considerations particularly moving us thereunto, have hereby thought fit the said convocation should be dissolved. And therefore we strictly charge and command you, forthwith to dissolve or cause to be dissolved the said convocation, as shall seem to you most fit and convenient: signifying withal on our part to all and several the bishops, archdeacons, deans, and all other spiritual persons, that they and every of them do obey and comply with this our command, as becometh them so to do.

"Witness ourself at Westminster, the 13th day of December, in the first year of our reign."

TRANSACTIONS of the PRIVY COUNCIL, and PAR|LIAMENT, during the Time of the above DISPU|TATION.

NOVEMBER, 1553. On the 20th of this month, the mayor Coventry sent up unto the lords of the council, Baldwin Clarke, J. Careless, Thomas Wil|cocks, and Richard Estelin, for their behaviour upon Alhallows-day before; whereupon Careless and Wilcocks were committed to the Gate-house, and the other two to the Marshalsea.

THE same day, Sir Christopher Heydon, and sir William Farmer, were ordered, by a letter from the council, to apprehend the Rev. John Huntington, for making a rhime against Dr. Stokes, and the sa|crament, who appearing before the council, on the 3d of December following, was, upon his humble submission, and promise of amendment in doctrine and living, again suffered to depart.

IN the days of Henry VIII. and Edward his suc|cessor, several noblemen and others were committed to the Tower; some charged with treason, as lord Courtney, and the duke of Norfolk; some for the

pope's supremacy, and suspicious letters tending to sedition, as Tonstal, bishop of Durham, and others, who were all continued prisoners there, till queen Mary granted them a pardon, and restored them to their former dignities. Among these was Gardi|ner, bishop of Winchester, whom she not only set at liberty, but also advanced him to be high chancellor of England. Lord Courtney she created earl of Devonshire, and shewed him so much favour, that it was suspected by some she would marry him. At the same time she also released that bloody persecu|tor, Bonner, from the Marshalsea, and restored him to the bishopric of London, displacing Dr. Ridley, with divers other good bishops, as Cranmer from Canterbury, also the archbishop of York, with a great number of archdeacons, deans▪ &c. in short, all those of the clergy who were either married, or would constantly adhere to the reformed religion, were removed from their livings; and others, ad|vocates for popery, put in the same, as cardinal Pool, (who was invited to England) Gardiner, White, Day, Troublefield, &c.

AND whereas a rumour was spread abroad, that Cranmer had recanted, and caused mass to be said at Canterbury, in order therefore to clear himself, he published a declaration of his truth and constancy in those particulars, protesting that he neither had done so, nor intended it, adding, that, if the queen pleased, he, with Peter Martyr, and certain others whom he would chuse, would, in public disputation, vindicate the doctrines of the reformation, against all persons whomsoever. But while he expec••••d to obtain leave for such a disputation, he, with other bishops, were laid fast in the Tower. But Peter Martyr was permitted to depart the realm, and he went to Argentine. At length, in this month of November, Dr. Cranmer, notwithstanding he had earnestly refused to subscribe to the king's will in disinheriting his sister Mary, was arraigned in the Guild-hall of London, and attainted of treason, with the lady Jane Gray, and three of the duke of Northumberland's sons, who were remanded back to the Tower, at the intreaty of certain persons, and there kept for a time. But the archbishop, being acquitted of treason, stood only in the action and case of doctrine, which they called heresy, whereat he was very much pleased and joyful.

THIS being done, the people, and especially the clergy, perceiving the queen so strongly inclined to the old religion, popery, they likewise, to shew their forwardness to comply with the queen's hu|mour, began to set up the pageants of St. Kathe|rine and St. Nicholas, and their service in Latin, after their old solemnity, with their gay gar-deviance, and gray-amices, or vestments.

DECEMBER, 1553. About the beginning of this month, the parliament broke up, having first re|pealed all such statutes as were either made of pre|munire, or concerned any alteration of religion, and administration of the sacraments, in the reign of Edward VI. And in this session the parliament were acquainted with the queen's intended marriage with king Philip, the emperor's son. In the mean time, cardinal Pool, having been sent for by Mary, was requested by the emperor to stay with him, to the intent, (as some think) that his presence in Eng|land should not be a bar to the marriage between his son and the queen; to accomplish which, he sent a most splendid embassy, with full power; which had such good success, that, after a few days, the marriage of queen Mary, with the emperor's son, Philip, was made up, and completed.

WYAT'S REBELLION—QUEEN MARY'S ORATION—LADY JANE'S Letters, Words, and Behaviour, before her execution—BONNER'S Instructions to the Clergy of his Diocese— MARY'S Letter to BONNER—Her Articles to the Ordinary—Her PROCLAMATION—A CONVOCATION summoned—BONNER'S ORATION—And a Conversation between Dr. RIDLEY and Secretary BOURNE.

ON the 13th of January, 1554, Dr. Crome was committed to the Fleet, for preaching without licence, on Christmas-day; and on the 21st, Thomas Wooton, Esq. was committed close prisoner to the Fleet, for matters of religion.

EARLY in this month the marriage of the queen was made public; but the news of this event was ill received both by the common people, and seve|ral of the nobility; and on this account, as also for religion, conspiring among themselves, raised a rebellion, whereof sir Thomas Wyat was one of the chief promoters, who said in Kent, (what others plainly perceived) that the queen and council would, by her marriage with a foreigner, bring upon this realm most miserable servitude, and establish the popish religion.

JANUARY 25th. Intelligence was received at London, of the insurrection in Kent; and of the duke of Suffolk having fled into Warwickship: and Leicestershire, with a view of raising forces in those countries. The queen, therefore, caused them both, with the Carews of Dovenshire, to be proclaimed traitors; and at the same time sent Thomas, duke of Norfolk, into Kent, who being, near Rochester bridge, forsaken of those who went with him, returned to London, no blood having been shed on either side.

THE duke of Suffolk having fled into War|wickshire, the earl of Huntington was sent against him, who entering the city of Coventry before the duke, disappointed him of his purpose. In his distress, the duke confided in a servant of his▪ in Astley park; but the traitor having betrayed him▪ he was apprehended, sent up to London, and com|mitted to the Tower. In the mean time, sir Peter hearing of this, fled into France, but the other conspirators were taken; and Wyat advanced to|wards London in the beginning of February. The queen, having heard of his coming, repaired to Guildhall, in the city, where she made a ve|hement oration against Wyat; the substance and effect whereof here followeth, as near as out of her own mouth could be penned.

An ORATION delivered by QUEEN MARY, in GUILD|HALL, LONDON.

I AM come unto you in mine own person, to tell you that which already you see and know, that is, how traitorously and rebelliously a number of Kentishmen have assembled themselves against both us and you. Their per|tence (as they said at the first) was for a marriage deter|mined for us: to the which, and to all the articles thereof, ye have been made privy. But since we have caused cer|tain of our privy council to go again unto them, and to demand the cause of this their rebellion, and it appeared then unto our said council, that the matter of the marriage seemed to be but a Spanish cloak to cover their pretended purpose against our religion, for that they arrogantly and traitorously demanded to have the governance of our per|son, the keeping of the Tower, and the placing of our counse••lors.

NOW, l••ving subjects, what I am, ••e right well know•••• I am your queen, to whom at my coronation, when I was wedded to the realm, and laws of the same (the spousal ring whereof I have on my finger, which never hitherto was, nor hereafter shall be l••ft 〈◊〉〈◊〉) you promised your allegiance and obedience unto me. And that I am the right and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 inheritor of the crown of this realm of England, 〈…〉〈…〉 all christendom to witness. My father, 〈…〉〈…〉, possessed the same regal state, which now 〈◊〉〈◊〉 is d••|scended,

unto me: and to him always ye shewed yourselves most faithful and loving subjects, and therefore I doubt not but ye will shew yourselves likewise to me, and that ye will not suffer a vile traitor to have the order and go|vernance of our person, and to occupy our estate, especially being so vile a traitor as Wyat is: who most certainly, as he hath abused mine ignorant subjects which be on his side, so doth he intend and purpose the destruction of you, and to spoil your goods. And I say to you in the word of a queen, I cannot tell how naturally the mother loveth the child, for I was never the mother of any; but certainly, if a princess and governess may as naturally and earnestly love her subjects, as the mother doth love the child, then assure yourselves, that I, being your lady and mistress, do as earnestly and tenderly love and favour you. And I thus loving you, cannot but think that you as heartily and faithful••y love me, and then I doubt not, but we shall give these rebels a short and speedy overthrow.

AS concerning the marriage, ye shall understand, that I enterprized not the doing thereof without advice, and that by the advice of all our privy council, who so considered and weighed the great commodities that might ensue thereof, that they not only thought it very honourable, but also expedient, both for the wealth of the realm, and also of you our subjects. And as touching myself, I assure you, I am not so bent to my will, neither so precise nor affec|tionate, that either for mine own pleasure I would chuse where I lust, or that I am so desirous, as needs I would have one. For God, I thank him, to whom be the praise therefor, I have hitherto lived a virgin, and doubt nothing, but with God's grace, I am able so to live still. But if, as my progenitors have done before, it may please God that I might leave some fruit of my body behind me, to be your governor, I trust, you would not only rejoice thereat, but also, I know, it would be to your great comfort. And certainly, if I either did think or know, that this marriage were to the hurt of any of you my commons, or to the im|peachment of any part or parcel of the royal state of this realm of England, I would never consent thereunto, neither would I ever marry while I lived. And in the word of a queen, I promise you, that if it shall not probably appear to all the nobility and commons in the high court of Parlia|ment, that this marriage shall be for the high benefit and commodity of the whole realm, then will I abstain from marriage while I live.

And I now, good subjects, pluck up your hearts, and like tru•• men, stand fast against these rebels, both our enemies and yours, and fear them not; for I assure you, I fear them nothing at all. And I will leave with you my lord How|ard, and my lord treasurer, who shall be assistants with the mayor for your defence.

IT is to be observed, that it having been report|ed, the queen was coming into the city with ar|med men, this rumour so terrified the Londoners, lest they should be there entrapped, and put to death, that great numbers of them made out at the gate before she entered in. It is also to be no|ted, that when the queen had ended her oration (which she seemed to have learnt perfectly without book) at the conclusion thereof, Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, who stood by her, cried to the peo|ple, with great admiration, "O how happy are we, to whom God hath given such a wise and learned queen!"

TWO days after this, on the 3d of February, lord Cobham was committed to the Tower, and sir Thomas Wyat entered Southwark; when, find|ing no access that way into the city, he marched with his army by Kingston, and came through the Strand to Ludgate. Returning from thence, he was opposed at Temple-bar, and there surrendered himself to sir Clement Parson, who brought him to court; and, with him, the remains of his army (for sir George Harper, and almost half of his men, had deserted him at Kingston-bridge) were also taken, and about one hundred killed. A great number of the captives were hanged; and Wyat was executed on Tower-hill, and then quartered. His head being set up upon Hay-hill, was taken away from thence, and great search made for the same.

ON the 12th of February, the unfortunate Lady Jane Gray was beheaded. Two days before her death, Mr. Feckman, otherwise Howman, was sent to her from the queen, to converse with her, and endeavour to turn her from the doctrine of Christ and the reformation to Mary's popish religion. The substance of their conversation is thus related.

A CONVERSATION between Mr. FECKNAM and Lady JANE GRAY, a short time before she was beheaded.

FECKNAM.

Madam, I lament your heavy case, and yet I doubt not, but that you bear out this sorrow of your's with a constant and patient mind.

JANE.

You are welcome unto me, sir, if your coming be to give christian exhortation. And as for my heavy case, (I thank God) I do so little lament it, that rather I account the same for a more ma|nifest declaration of God's favour towards me,

than ever he shewed me at any time before. And therefore there is no cause why either you, or others which bear me no good will, should lament or be grieved with this my case, being a thing so profi|table for my soul's health.

FICK.

I am here come to you at this present time sent from the queen and her council, to in|struct you in the true doctrine of the right faith: although I have so great confidence in you, that I shall have, I trust, little need to travel with you much therein.

JANE.

Forsooth I heartily thank the queen's highness, which is not unmindful of her humble subject: and I hope likewise, that you no less will do your duty therein both truly and faithfully, ac|cording to that you were sent for.

FECK.

What is then required of a christian man?

JANE.

That he should believe in God the Fa|ther, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, three Persons and one God.

FECK.

What, is there nothing else to be requir|ed or looked for in a christian, but to believe in him?

JANE.

Yes, we must love him with all our heart, and all our soul, and with all our mind, and our neighbour as ourself.

FECK.

Why, then, faith neither justifieth, nor saveth.

JANE.

Yes verily, faith (as St. Paul saith) only justifieth.

FECK.

Why, St. Paul saith, If I have all faith without love, it is nothing.

JANE.

True it is; for how can I love him whom I trust not? Or how can I trust him whom I love not? Faith and love go both together, and yet love is comprehended in faith.

FECK.

How shall we love our neighbour?

JANE.

To love our neighbour, is to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, and give drink to the thirsty, and to do to him as we would do to our|selves.

FECK.

Why, then, it is necessary unto salvation, to do good works also, and it is not sufficient only to believe.

JANE.

I deny that, and I affirm that faith on|ly saveth: but it is meet for a christian, in token that he followeth his master Christ, to do good works, yet may we not say that they profit to our salvation. For when we have done all, yet we are unprofitable servants, and faith only in Christ's blood saveth us.

FECK.

How many sacraments are there?

JANE,

Two: the one the sacrament of baptism, and the other the sacrament of the Lord's supper.

FECK.

No, there are seven.

JANE.

By what scripture find you that?

FECK.

Well, we will talk of that hereafter. But what is signified by your two sacraments?

JANE.

By the sacrament of baptism, I am washed with water and regenerated by the Spirit, and that washing is ••••oken to me that I am the child of God. The sacrament of the Lord's supper offered unto me, is a sure seal and testimony that I am, by the blood of Christ which he shed for me on the cross, make partaker of the everlasting kingdom.

FECK.

Why what do you receive in that sacra|ment? Do you not receive the very body and blood of Christ?

JANE.

No surely, I do not so believe. I think that at the supper I neither receive flesh nor blood, but bread and wine: which bread when it is brok••en, and the wine when it is drank, putteth me in remembrance how that for my sins the body of Christ was broken, and his blood shed on the cross, and with that bread and wine, I receive the benefits

that come by the breaking of his body, and shed|ding of his blood for our sins on the cross.

FECK.

Why, doth not Christ speak these words, Take, eat, this is my body? Require you ••ny plainer words? Doth he not say it is his body?

JANE.

I grant he saith so; and so he saith, I am the vine, I am the door; but he is never the more the door, nor the vine. Doth not St. Paul say, He calleth things that are not as though they were? God forbid that I should say, that I eat the very natural body and blood of Christ: for then either I should pluck away my redemption, or else there were two bodies, or two Christs. One body was tormented on the cross, and if they did eat another body, then had he two bodies: or if his body were eaten, then it was not broken upon the cross; or if it were broken upon the cross, it was not eaten of his disciples.

FECK.

Why? Is it not as possible that Christ by his power could make his body both to be eaten and broken, as to be born of a woman without seed of man, and to walk upon the sea, having a body, and other such like miracles as he wrought by his power only?

JANE.

Yes verily, if God would have done at his supper any miracles, he might have done so: but I say, that then he minded no work nor mira|cle, but only to break his body, and shed his blood on the cross for our sins. But I pray you to an|swer me this one question: Where was Christ when he said, Take, eat, this is my body? Was he not at the table when he said so? He was at that time alive, and suffered not till the next day. What took he, but bread? what brake he, but bread? and what gave he, but bread? Look, what he took, he brake: and look, what he brake, he gave and look, what he gave, they did eat: and yet all this while he himself was alive, and at sup|per before his disciples, or else they were deceived.

FECK.

You ground your faith upon such au|thors as say and unsay both in a breath, and not upon the church, to whom you ought to give credit.

JANE.

No, I ground my faith on God's word, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not upon the church; for if the church be a good church, the faith of the church must be tried by God's word, and not God's word by the church, nor yet my faith. Shall I believe the church be|cause of antiquity? or shall I give credit to the church that taketh away from me the half part of the Lord's supper, and will not let any man receive it in both kinds? which things if they deny to us, then deny they to us part of our salvation. And I say, that it is an evil church, and not the spouse of Christ, but the spouse of the devil, that altereth the Lord's supper, and both taketh from it, and addeth to it. To that church (say I) God will add plagues, and from that church will he take their part out of the book of life. Do they learn that of St. Paul, when he ministered to the Corinthi|ans in both kinds? Shall I believe this church? God forbid.

FECK.

That was done for a good intent of the church, to avoid an heresy that sprang up from it.

JANE.

Why? shall the church alter God's will and ordinance for good intent? How did king Saul? The Lord God defend.

WITH these and such like persuasions he endea|voured, but to no purpose, to turn her to the po|pish religion. They reasoned about many other things, but these were the chief.

THEN Fecknam took his leave, saying, that he was sorry for her•• for I am sure, quoth he, that we two shall never m••et.

JANE.

True it is, said she, that we shall never meet, except God turn your heart. For I am as|sured, unless you repent and turn to God, you are in an evil case: and I pray God, in the bowels of his mercy, to send you his Holy Spirit: for he hath given you his great gift of utterance, if it pleased him also to open the eyes of your heart.

LETTER I. From Lady JANE to her FATHER.

FATHER,

ALTHOUGH it hath pleased God to hasten my death by you, by whom my life should rather have been lengthened; yet can I so patient|ly

take it, as I yield God more hearty thanks for ••••••rtening my woful days, than if all the world had been given unto my possession, with life length|••••ed at my own will. And albeit I am well assur|ed of your impatient griefs, redoubled mani|fold ways, both in bewailing your own woe, and especially (as I hear) my unfortunate state; yet, my dear father, (if I may without offence re|joice in my own mishaps) meseems in this I may account myself blessed, that washing my hands in the innocency of my fact, my guiltless blood may try before the Lord, Mercy to the innocent. And yet though I must needs acknowledge, that being constrained, and as you wot well enough, contin|ually assayed, in taking upon me I seemed to con|sent, and therein grievously offended the queen and her laws: yet do I assuredly trust, that this my offence toward God is so much the less, in that be|ing in so royal estate as I was, mine enforced honour blendid never with mine innocent heart: and thus, good father, I have opened unto you the state where in I at present stand. Whose death at hand, al|though to you perhaps it may seem right woful, to me there is nothing that can be more welcome, than from this vale of misery to aspire to that hea|venly throne of all joy and pleasure with Christ our Saviour. In whose stedfast faith (if it may be law|ful for the daughter so to write to the father) the Lord that hitherto hath strengthened 〈◊〉〈◊〉, so con|tinue you, that at the last we may meet in heaven with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.

IN the time of Edward VI. when her father flou|rished in freedom and prosperity, he had belonging to him a certain learned man, a student and gradu|ate of the university of Oxford, who was then his chaplain, and appeared to be a sincere preacher of the gospel, according to the doctrines of the re|formed religion, at that time set forth and received; but shortly after, when the state of religion began to be altered by queen Mary, he altered his profes|sion with the times, and from a protestant, was transformed into a pretended friend and defender of the pope's religion and his proceedings. The pi|ous and christian lady Jane, seeing such a change in a person whom she thought sincere, was much grieved, but chiefly lamented the dangerous state of his soul in so cowardly ap••statizing from the truth; on which account, she wrote her mind to him in the following sharp and strongly pointed letter, which appeared to proceed from an earn|est and zealous heart; and she prayed that God would be pleased to make it effectual, by reducing him to repentance, and engaging him to take better hold of that, whereon depended the eternal welfare of his own soul.

LETTER II. From LADY JANE to Mr. HARDING, (late Chaplain to her Father the Duke of Suffolk) then fallen from the Truth of God's holy Word.

SO oft as I call to mind the dreadful and fear|ful saying of God, "That he which layeth hold upon the plough and looketh back, is not meet for the kingdom of heaven;" and, on the other side, the comfortable words of our Saviour Christ to all those that, forsaking themselves, do follow him: I cannot but marvel at thee, and la|ment thy case, which seemed sometime to be the lively member of Christ, but now the deformed imp of the devil; sometime the beautiful temple of God, but now the stinking and filthy kennel of Satan; sometime the unspotted spouse of Christ, but now the unshame faced paramour of Antichrist; sometime my faithful brother, but now a stranger and apostate; sometime a stout christian soldier, but now a cowardly run-away. Yea, when I consi|der these things, I cannot but speak to thee, and cry out upon thee, Thou seed of Satan, and not of Judah, whom the devil hath deceived, the world hath beguiled, and the desire of life subverted, and made thee of a christian an infidel. Wherefore hast thou taken the testament of the Lord in thy mouth? Wherefore hast thou preached the law and the will of God to others? Wherefore hast thou in|structed others to be strong in Christ, when thou thyself doest so shamefully shrink, and so horribly abuse the testament and law of the Lord? When thou thyself preachest not to steal, yet most abomi|nably stealest, not from men, but from God, and committing most heinous sacrilege, robbest Christ thy Lord of his right members, thy body and soul, and chusest rather to live miserable with shame in the world, than to die, and gloriously, with honour, reign with Christ, in whom even death is life? Why doth thou now shew thyself most weak, when

indeed thou oughtest to be most strong? The strength of a fort is unknown before the assault, bu•• thou yieldest thy hold before any battery be made. O wretched and unhappy man, what art thou but dust and ashes? And wilt thou resist thy Maker that fashioned and framed thee? Wilt thou now forsake him that called thee from the custom-ga|thering among the Romish antichristians, to be an ambassador and messenger of his eternal word? He that first framed thee, and since thy first creation and birth preserved thee, nourished and kept thee, yea, and inspired thee with the spirit of knowledge (I cannot say of grace) shall he not now possess thee? Darest thou deliver up thysef to another, be|ing not thine own, but his? How c••••st thou, hav|ing knowledge, or how darest thou neglect the law of the Lord, and follow the vain traditions of men; and, whereas thou hast been a public professor of his name, become now a defacer of his glory? Wilt thou refuse the true God, and worship the in|vention of man, the golden calf, the whore of Ba|bylon, the Romish religion, the abominable idol, the most wicked mass? Wilt thou torment again, rent, and tear the most precious body of our Sa|viour Christ, with thy bodily and fleshly teeth? Wilt thou take upon thee to offer any sacrifice un|to God for our sins, considering that Christ offered up himself (as St. Paul saith) upon the cross, a live|ly sacrifice once for all? Can neither the punish|ment of the Israelites (which, for their idolatry, they so oft received), nor the terrible threatenings of the prophets, nor the curses of God's own mouth, fear thee to honour any other God than him? Dost thou so regard him that spared not his dear and only Son for thee, so diminishing, yea, utterly extin|guishing his glory, that thou wilt attribute the praise and honour due unto him to the idols, which have mouths and speak not, eyes and see not, ears and hear not; which shall perish with them that made them?

WHAT saith the prophet Baruch, where he reci|ted the epistle of Jeremy, written to the captive Jews? Did he not forewarn them, that in Babylon they should see gods of gold, silver, wood, and stone, borne upon men's shoulders, to cast a fear before the heathen? "But be ye not afraid of them, (saith Jeremy) nor do as others do. But when you see others worship them, say you in your hearts, It is thou, O Lord, that oughtest only to be worshipped: for as for those gods, the carpen|ter framed them and polished them, yea, guilded be they, and laid over with silver and vain things, and cannot speak." He sheweth, moreover, the ab••se of their dealings, how the priests took off their ornaments, and apparelled their women with|al; how one holdeth a sceptre, another a sword in his hand, and yet can they judge in no matter, nor defend themselves, much less any other, from either battle or murder, nor yet from knawing of worms, nor any other evil thing. These and such like words speaketh Jeremy unto them, whereby he proveth them to be but vain things, and no gods. And at last he concludeth thus, "Confounded be all they that worship them." They were warned by Jeremy, and thou as Jeremy hast warned others, and art warned thyself by many scriptures in many places. God saith, he is a jealous God, which will have all honour, glory, and worship, given to him only. And Christ saith in the fourth of Matthew, to Satan which tempted him, even to the same Beelzebub, the same devil which hath prevailed against thee: "It is written (saith he) thou shalt honour the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve."

THESE and such like do prohibit thee and all christians to worship any other God, than which was before all worlds, and laid the foundations both of heaven and earth: and wilt thou honour a detestable idol, invented by Romish popes, and the abominable college of crafty cardinals? Christ offered himself up once for all, and wilt thou offer him up again daily at thy pleasure? But thou wilt say, thou doest it for a good intent. O sink of sin! Oh child of perdition! Dost thou dream therein of a good intent, where thy conscience beareth thee witness of God's threatened wrath against thee? How did Saul? who, for that he disobeyed the word of the Lord for a good intent, was thrown from his worldly and temporal king|dom. Shalt thou then, that dost deface God's ho|nour, and rob him of his right, inherit the eternal and heavenly kingdom? Wilt thou for a good in|tent dishonour God, offend thy brother, and dan|ger thy soul, for which Christ hath shed his most precious blood? Wilt thou for a good intent pluck Christ out of heaven, and make his death void,

and deface the triumph of his cross by offering him up daily? Wilt thou, either for fear of death, or hope of life, deny and refuse thy God, who en|riched thy poverty, healed thy infirmity, and yields to thee his victory, if thou couldst have kept it? Dost thou not consider, that the thread of thy life hangeth upon him that made thee, who can ••as his will is▪ either twine it harder to last the longer, or untwine it again to break the sooner? Dost thou not then remember the saying of David, a notable king, to teach thee a miserable wretch, in his 104th Psalm, where he saith thus: "When thou takest away thy Spirit, O Lord, from men, they die and are ••••••ned again to their dust: but when thou let|test thy breath go forth, they shall be made, and thou shalt renew the face of the earth." Remem|ber the saying of Christ in his gospel: "Whosoe|ver seeketh to save his life, shall lose it: but who|soever will lose his life for my sake, shall find it." And in the same place: "Whosoever loveth fa|ther or mother above me, is not meet for me. He that will follow me, let him forsake himself, and take up his cross, and follow me." What cross? the cross of infamy and shame, of misery and poverty, of affliction and persecution, for his name's sake. Let the oft falling of those heavenly showers pierce thy stony heart. Let the two-edged sword of God's holy word shee•• asunder the sinews of worldly respects, even to the very marrow of thy carnal heart, that thou mayst once again forsake thyself and embrace Christ. And like as good subjects will not refuse to hazard all in defence of their earthly and temporal governor, so fly not, like a white livered milk sop, from the standing wherein thy chief captain hath set thee in array of this life. ••ight manfully, come life, come death: thy quarrel is God's, and undoubtedly the victory is ours.

BUT thou wil say, I will not break unity. What, not the unity of Satan and his members? Not the uni••y of darknes••▪ the argument of Antichrist and his 〈…〉〈…〉, thou deceivest thyself with a fond imag••••••tion of such an unity as is 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the enemies of Christ. Were not the false prophets in an unity▪ Were not Joseph's brethren and Jacob's sons in an unity? Were not the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, as the Amaleki••••s, the Per••zz••tes, and Jebusites, in an unity? Were not the scribes and pharisees in an unity? Doth not king David testify, "They have cast their heads together, and are confederate a|gainst the Lord?" Yea, thieves, murderers, con|spirators, have their unity. But what unity? Tul|ly saith of amity, There is no amity but with the good. But mark, my friend, yea, friend, if thou be not God's enemy: there is no unity but where Christ knitteth the knot among such as be his. Yea, be well assured, that where his truth is not resident, there it is verified that he himself saith: "I came not to send peace on earth, but a sword," &c. but to set one against another, the son against the fa|ther, and the daughter against the mother-in-law. Deceive not thyself therefore with the glittering and glorious name of unity; for Antichrist hath his unity, yet not in deed but in name. The a|greement of ill men is not an unity, but a conspira|cy. Thou hast heard some threatenings, some cursings, and some admonitions out of the scrip|ture, to those that love themselves above Christ. Thou hast heard also the sharp and bitter words to those that deny him for love of life. Saith he not, "He that denieth me before men, I will deny him before my Father in heaven?" And to the same effect writeth St. Paul, "It is impossible (saith he) that they which were once enlightened, and have tasted of the heavenly gift, and were partakers of the Holy Ghost, and have tasted of the good word of God, if they fall and slide away, crucifying to themselves the Son of God afresh, and making of him a mocking-stock, should be renewed again by repentance." And again, saith he, "If we shall willingly sin, after we have received the know|lege of his truth, there is no oblation left for sin, but the terrible expectation of judgment, and fire which shall devour the adversaries." Thus St. Paul writeth, and thus thou readest, and dost thou not quake and tremble?

WELL, if these terrible and thundering threaten|ings cannot stir thee to cleave unto Christ, and for|sake the word; yet let the sweet consolations and promises of the scriptures, let the example of Christ and his apostles, holy martyrs and confessors, en|courage thee to take faster hold of Christ. Heark|en what he saith: "Blessed are you, when men re|vile you, and persecute you for my sake: rejoice

and be glad, for great is your reward in heaven; for so persecuted they the prophets that were be|fore you." Hear what the prophet Isaiah saith: "Fear not the curse of men, be not afraid of their blasphemies, for worms and moths shall eat them up like cloth and wool, but my righteousness shall endure for ever, and my saving health from gene|ration to generation. What art thou then (said he) that fearest a mortal man, the child of man, which fadeth away like the flower, and forg••••test the Lord that made thee, that spread out the heavens, and laid the foundation of the earth? I am the Lord thy God, that makes the sea to rage and be still, whose name is the Lord of hosts: I shall put my word in thy mouth, and defend thee with the turning of an hand." And our Saviour Christ saith to his disciples: "They shall accuse you, and bring you before princes and rulers for my name's sake, and some of you they shall persecute and kill; but fear you not, (saith he) nor care you what you shall say: for it is the Spirit of your Father that speaketh within you. Even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Lay up trea|sure for yourselves (saith he) where no thief cometh, nor moth corrupteth. Fear not them that kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul; but fear him that hath power to destroy both soul and body. If ye were of the world, the world would love his own: but because ye are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you."

LET these and such like consolations, taken out of the scriptures, strengthen you to God-ward: let not the examples of holy men and women go out of your mind, as of Daniel and the rest of the pro|phets, of the three children, of Eleazarus that con|stant father, of the seven of the Maccabees children, of Peter, Paul, Stephen, and other apostles and holy martyrs in the beginning of the church; as of good Simeon, archbishop of Soloma, and Zetro|phone, with many others under Sapores the king of the Persians and Indians, who despised all torments devised by the tyrants for their Saviour's sake. Return, return again unto Christ's war, and as becometh a faithful warrior, put on that armour that St. Paul teacheth to be most necessary for a christian man. And above all things take to you the shield of faith, and be you provoked by Christ's own example to withstand the devil, to forsake the world, and to become a true and faithful member of his mystical body, who spared not his own body for our sins.

THROW down yourself with the fear of his threatened vengeance, for this so great and heinous an offence of apostacy: and comfort yourself on the other part with the mercy, blood, and promise of him that is ready to turn unto you, whensoever you turn unto him. Disdain not to come again with the lost son, seeing you have so wandered with him. Be not ashamed to turn again with him from the swill of strangers, to the delicates of your most benign and loving Father, acknowledging that you have sinned against heaven and earth: against heaven, by staining the glorious name of God, and causing his most sincere and pure word to be evil spoken of through you: against earth, by offending so many of your weak brethren, to whom you have been a stumbling block through your sudden sliding. Be not abashed to come home again with Mary, and weep bitterly with Peter, not only with shedding the tears of your bodily eyes, but also pouring out the streams of your heart, to wash away out of the sight of God the filth and mire of your offensive fall. Be not abashed to say with the publican, Lord be merciful unto me a sinner. Remember the horrible history of Julian of old, and the lamentable case of Spira of late, whose case (methinks) should be yet so green in your remembrance, that being a thing of our time, you should fear the like inconvenience, seeing you are fallen into the like offence.

LAST of all, let the lively remembrance of the last day be always before your eyes, remembering the terror that such shall be in at that time, with the runagates and fugitives from Christ, which setting more by the world than by heaven, more by their life, than by him that gave them life, did shrink, yea, did clean fall away from him that forsook not them: and contrariwise, the inestimable joys pre|pared for them that fear no peril, nor dreading death, have manfully fought, and victoriously triumphed over all the power of darkness, over hell, death and damnation, through their most redouted captain Christ, who now stretcheth out his arms to receive you, ready to fall upon your neck and kiss

you, and last of all to feast you with the dainties and delicates of his own precious blood: which undoubtedly, if it might stand with his determinate purpose▪ he would not scruple to shed again, rather than you should be lost. To whom with the Father and the Holy Ghost, be all honour, praise, and glory everlasting. Amen.

"Be constant, be constant, fear not for any pain: "Christ hath redeemed thee, and heaven is thy gain."

LETTER III. Which Lady JANE sent to her SISTER, the Lady KATHERINE, the night before she suffered, written at the end of the New Testament in Greek.

Good Sister Katharine,

I Have here sent you a book, which although it be not outwardly trimmed with gold, yet in|wardly is more worth than precious stones. It is the book (dear sister) of the law of the Lord. It is his testament and last will, which he bequeathed unto us wretches; which shall lead you to the path of eternal joy; and, if you with a good mind to read it, and with an earnest mind do purpose to fol|low it, it shall bring you to an immortal and ever|lasting life. It shall teach you to live, and learn you to die. It shall win you more than you should have gained by the possession of your woful father's lands. For as, if God had prospered him, you should have inherited his lands; so if you apply diligently this book, seeking to direct your life after it, you shall be an inheritor of such riches, as neither the covetous shall withdraw from you, neither thief shall steal, neither yet the moths corrupt. Desire with David, good sister, to understand the law of the Lord God. Live still to die, that you by death may purchase eternal life. And trust not that the tenderness of your age shall lengthen your life; for as soon (if God call) goeth the young as the old; and labour always to learn to die. Defy the world, deny the devil, despise the flesh, and delight your|self only in the Lord. Be penitent for your sins, and yet despair not: be strong in faith, and yet presume not; and desire with St. Paul to be dissolv|ed and to be with Christ, with whom even in death there is life. Be like the good servant, and even at midnight waking, least when death cometh and steal|eth upon you as a thief in the night, you be with the evil servant, found sleeping: and lest, for lack of oil, you be found like the five foolish women, and like him that had not on the wedding garment, and then ye be cast out from the marriage. Rejoice in Christ, as I do. Follow the steps of your master Christ, and take up your cross: lay your sins on his back, and always embrace him. And as touching my death, rejoice as I do, (good sister) that I shall be delivered of this corruption, and put on incorruption. For I am assured, that I shall, for losing a mortal life, win an immortal life, the which I pray God grant you, and send you his grace to live in his fear, and to die in the true christian faith, from the which (in God's name) I exhort you, that you never swerve, neither for hope of life, nor for fear of death. For if you will deny his truth, to lengthen your life, God will deny you, and shorten your days. And if you cleave unto him, he will prolong your days to your com|fort and his glory: To which glory God bring me now, and you hereafter, when it pleaseth him to call you. Fare you well, good sister, and put your only trust in God, who only must help you.

A PRAYER, Made by Lady JANE in the Time of her Trouble.

O LORD, thou God and Father of my life, hear me poor and desolate woman, which flyeth unto thee only, in all troubles and miseries. Thou, O Lord, art the only defender and deliverer of those that put their trust in thee: and therefore, I being defiled with sin, incumbered with affliction, unquieted with troubles, wrapped in cares, overwhelmed with miseries, vexed with temptations, and grievously tormented with long imprisonment of this vile mass of clay my sinful body, do come unto thee (O merci|ful Saviour) craving thy mercy and help, without which so little hope of deliverance is left, that I may utterly despair of any liberty. Albeit it is expedient, that, seeing our life standeth upon trying, we should be visited sometime with some adversity, whereby we might both be tried whe|ther we be of the flock or no, and also know thee and our|selves the better: yet thou that saidst thou would not suffer us to be tempted above our power, be merciful unto me now a miserable wretch, I beseech thee; which, with Solo|mon, do cry unto thee, humbly desiring thee, that I may neither be too much puffed up with prosperity, neither too much pressed down with adversity, lest I, being too full, should deny thee my God, or being too low brought, should despair, and blaspheme thee my Lord and Saviour. O

merciful God, consider my misery best known unto thee; and be thou now unto me a strong tower of defence, I humbly require thee. Suffer me not to be tempted above my power; but either be thou a deliverer unto me out of this great misery▪ or else give me grace patiently to bear thy heavy hand and sharp correction. It was thy right hand that delivered the people of Israel out of the hands of Pharaoh, which for the space of four hundred years did op|press them, and keep them in bondage. Let it therefore likewise seem good to thy fatherly goodness, to deliver me sorrowful wretch (for whom thy Son Christ shed his pre|cious blood on the cross) out of this miserable captivity and bondage, wherein I am now. How long wilt thou be absent? for ever? O Lord, hast thou forgotten to be gra|cious, and hast thou shut up thy loving kindness in dis|pleasure? Wilt thou be no more intreated? Is thy mercy clean gone for ever, and thy promise come utterly to an end for evermore? Why dost thou make so long tarry? Shall I despair of thy mercy, O God? far be that from me. I am thy workmanship created in Christ Jesus; give me grace therefore to tarry thy leisure, and patiently to bear thy works, assuredly knowing, that as thou canst, so thou wilt deliver me, when it shall please thee, nothing doubting or mistrusting thy goodness towards me; for thou knowest better what is good for me than I do: therefore do with me in all things what thou wilt, and plague me what way thou wilt. Only in the mean time arm me, I beseech thee, with thy armour, that I may stand fast, my loine being girded about with verity, having on the breastplate of righteousness, and shod with the shoes prepared by the gos|pel of peace; above all things taking to me the shield of faith, wherewith I may be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked, and taking the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is thy most holy word, praying always with all manner of prayer and supplication, that I may refer myself wholly to thy will, abiding thy pleasure, and comforting myself in those troubles that it shall please thee to send me: seeing such troubles be profitable for me, and seeing I am assuredly persuaded that it cannot be but well all that thou dost. Hear me, O merciful Father, for his sake, whom thou wouldst should be a sacrifice for my sins; to whom with thee and the Holy Ghost, be all ho|nour and glory. Amen.

The BEHAVIOUR and DYING WORDS of Lady JANE, upon the Scaffold.

WHEN she mounted the scaffold, she spake to the spectators in this manner. "Good people, I am come hither to die, and by a law I am condemned to the same. The fact against the queen's highness was unlawful, and the consenting thereunto by me; but touching the procurement and desire thereof by me or on my behalf, I do wash my hands thereof in innocency before God, and the face of you, good christian people, this day:" and therewith she wrung her hands wherein she had her book. "Then (said she) I pray you all good christian people, to bear me witness that I die a true christian woman, and that I do look to be saved by no other means, but only by the mercy of God in the blood of his only Son Je|sus Christ: and I confess, that when I did know the word of God, I neglected the same, loved my|self and the world, and therefore this plague and punishment is happily and worthily happened unto me for my sins: and yet I thank God that of his goodness he hath thus given me a time and respite to repent: and now, good people, while I am alive, I pray you assist me with your prayers." And then kneeling down, she turned to Fecknam, saying, "Shall I say this psalm?" and he said, Yea. Then she said the psalm of Miserer•• mei Deus, in English, in a most devout manner throughout to the end; and then she stood up, and gave her maid, Mrs. Ellen, her gloves and handkerchief, and her book to Mr. Bruges; and then she untied her gown, and the executioner pressed upon her to help her off with it, but she desiring him to let her alone, turned towards her two gentlewomen, who helped her off therewith, and also with her frowes, paast, and neckerchief, giving to her a fair handkerchief to put about her eyes.

THEN the executioner kneeled down and asked her forgiveness, whom she forgave most willingly. Then he desired her to stand upon the straw, which doing, she saw the block. When she said, I pray you dispatch me quickly. Then she kneeled down, saying, Will you take it off before I lay me down? and the executioner said, No, madam. Then she tied the handkerchief about her eyes, and feeling for the block▪ she said, What shall I do? Where is it? One of the standers by guided her thereunto, she laid her head down upon the block, and then stretching forth her body, said, "Lord, into thy hands I commend my spirit;" and so finished her life, in the year of our Lord 1554, the 12th day of February, about the 17th year of her age.

THUS died the lady Jane, and on the same day the lord Guildford her husband, one of the duke of Northumberland's sons, was likewise beheaded, two

innocents in comparison of them that sat upon them. For they were both very young, and ignorantly ac|cepted that which others had contrived, and by open proclamation consented to take from others, and give to them.

TOUCHING the condemnation of this pious lady, it is to be noted, that judge Morgan, who gave sentence against her, soon after he had condemned her, fell mad, and in his raving cried out continu|ally to have the lady Jane taken away from him; and so he ended his life.

ON the 21st day of the same month, Henry duke of Suffolk was beheaded on Tower-hill, the fourth day after his condemnation: about which time many gentlemen and yeomen were condemned, whereof some were executed at London, and some in the country. In the number of whom was the lord Thomas Gray, brother to the said duke, being apprehended not long after in North-Wales, and executed for the same. Sir Nicholas Throgmorton very narrowly 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

ON the 24th day of February, in the same year, Bonner, bishop of London, sent a commission, di|rected to all the pastors and curates of his diocese, for the taking of the names of all such as should refuse to come to auricular confession of the Lent following, and to the receiving at Easter. The copy of which here followeth.

The INSTRUCTIONS of BONNER, bishop of LONDON, sent to all the CURATES of his Diocese.

EDMUND, by the permission of God, bishop of London, to all parsons, vicars, curates, and ministers of the church, within the city and diocese of London, sendeth grace, peace, and mercy in our Lord everlasting. Forasmuch as by the order of the ecclesiastical laws and constitutions of this realm, and the laudable usage and custom of the whole catholic church, by many hundred years agone, duly and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 observed and kept, all faithful people, being 〈…〉〈…〉 age and discretion, are bound once in the year at least (except reasonable cause excuse them) to be confessed to their own proper curate, and to receive the sacrament of the altar, with due preparation and devotion: and forasmuch also as we be credibly informed, that sundry evil disposed and undevout persons, given to sensual pleasures, and carnal appetites, following the lusts of their body, and neglecting utterly the health of their souls, do forbear to come to confession according to the said usage, and to receive the sacrament of the altar accordingly, giving thereby pernicious and evil example to the younger sort, to neglect and contemn the same: We minding the reformation thereof for our own discharge, and desirous of good order to be kept, and good example to be given; do will and command you by virtue hereof, that immediately upon receipt of this our command|ment, ye and every each of you within your cure and charge, do use all your diligence and dexterity to declare the same, straitly charging and command|ing all parishioners, being of lawful age and discre|tion, to come before Easter next coming, to con|fession, according to the said ordinance and usage, with due preparation and devotion, to receive the said sacrament of the altar, and that ye do note the names of all such as be not confessed unto you, and do not receive of you the said sacrament, certifying us, or our chancellor or commissary thereof, before the 6th day of April next ensuing the date hereof; that so we, knowing thereby who did not come to confession, and receiving the sacrament accordingly, may proceed against them, as being persons culpa|ble, and transgressors of the said ecclesiastical law and usage. Further also certifying us, our said chancellor or commissary, before the day aforesaid, whether you have your altars set up, chalice-book, vestments, and all things necessary for mass, and the administration of sacraments and sacramen|tals, with procession, and all other divine service prepared and in readiness, according to the order of the catholic church, and the virtuous and godly example of the queen's majesty. And if ye so have not, ye then with the churchwardens cause the same to be provided for, signifying by whose fault and negligence the same want or fault hath proceeded, and generally of the not coming of your parishion|ers to church, undue walking, talking, or using of themselves there irreverently in the time of divine service, and of all other open faults and misdemea|nors, not omitting thus to do, and certify as before, as you will answer upon your peril for the con|trary.

Given at London the 23d of February, in the year of our Lord 1554.

ON the fourth of March following the queen sent a letter to Bonner, bishop of London, with certain articles annexed thereunto, to be put into speedy execution, containing as follows:

Queen MARY'S Letter to BONNER, bishop of London.

RIGHT reverend father in God, right trusty and well-beloved, we greet you well. And whereas heretofore in the time of the late reign of our most dear brother king Edward the sixth, whose soul God pardon, divers notable crimes, excesses and faults, with sundry kinds of heresies, simony, adultery, and other enormities have been commit|ted within this our realm, and other our dominions, the same continuing yet hitherto in like disorder since the beginning of our reign, without any cor|rection or reformation at all, and the people both of the laity and also of the clergy, and chiefly of the clergy, have been given to much insolency and un|godly rule, greatly to the displeasure of Almighty God, and very much to our regret and evil accepta|tion, and t•• no little slander of other christian realms, and in a manner to the subversion and clean defa|cing of this our realm; and remembering our duty to Almighty God, to be to foresee (as much as in us may be) that all virtue and godly living shall be embraced, flourish and increase; and therewith also that all vice and ungodly beheaviour should be ba|nished and put away, or at the leastwise (so nigh as might be) so bridled and kept under, that godliness and honesty might have the upper hand; under|standing by very 〈◊〉〈◊〉 report and public fa••e, to our no small he••••iness and discomfort, that with|in your diocese. 〈…〉〈…〉 not exempted as exempt|ed places, th•• like 〈…〉〈…〉 and evil behaviour hath been done and used, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 also to continue and in|crease, unl•••••• due 〈◊〉〈◊〉 be had and made to reform the same; which earnestly in very deed we ••o mind and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to the uttermost all the ways we can possible, tru••••ing of God's 〈…〉〈…〉 and help in that behalf. For 〈◊〉〈◊〉 cause•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 other most just considerations us 〈◊〉〈◊〉, we send unto you cer|tain articles of such 〈◊〉〈◊〉 matters, as among other things be most necessary now to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in execution by you and your officers, extendi•••• to the end by us desired, and the reformation 〈◊〉〈◊〉: wherein ye shall be charged with our special ••••••mandment, by these our letters, to the intent you and your offi|cers may the more earnestly and boldly proceed thereunto, without fear of any presumption to be noted in your part, or danger to be incurred of any such our laws, as by our doing of that is in the said articles contained, might any wise grieve you, what|soever be threatened in any such case. And there|fore we straitly charge and command you, and your said officers, to proceed to the execution of the said articles, without all tract and delay, as ye will an|swer to the contrary.

Given under our signet, at our palace of West|minster, the third day of March, the first year of our reign.

ARTICLES sent from the QUEEN unto the ORDINARY, commanding ••oth him and his officers to see them put in Execution throughout the whole Diocese.

FIRST, That every bishop and his officers, with all others having ecclesiastical jurisdiction, shall with all speed and diligence, and all manner of way•• to them possible, put in execution all such canon•• and ecclesiastical laws, heretofore in the time of king Henry the eighth used within this realm of England, and the dominions of the same, not being directly and expressly contrary to the laws and ••••••|tutes of this realm.

Item, THAT no bishop, or any of his officers, or other person aforesaid, hereafter in any ecclesiastical writing, in process or othe•• extrajudicial acts, do use to put in this clause or sentence, [supported by royal authority.]

Item, THAT no bishop, or any of his officers, or other person aforesaid, do hereafter exact or demand in the admission of any person to any ecclesiastical promotion, order, or office, any 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••••uching 〈◊〉〈◊〉 primacy or succession, as of late in fe•• years pas••ed hath been accustomed and used.

Item, THAT every bishop and his officers, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 all other persons aforesaid, have a vigilant eye•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 use special diligence and foresight, that no person be admitted or received to any ecclesiastical func|tion, benefice, or office, being a sacramentary, in|fected or defamed with any notable kind of heresy, or other great crime; and that the said bishop do

[figure]

The Behe••••ing of Henry Duke o•• Suffolk Father of Lady J••••e Gray on Tower Hill on 〈…〉〈…〉 the fourth day after his Condemnation

stay, and cause to be stayed, as much as lieth in him, that benefices and ecclesiastical promotions do not notably decay, or take hindrance, by passing or con|firming unreasonable leases.

Item, THAT every bishop, and all other persons aforesaid, do diligently travel for the repressing of heresies and notable crimes, especially in the clergy, duly correcting and punishing the same.

Item, THAT every bishop, and all other persons aforesaid, do likewise travel for the condemning and repressing of corrupt and naughty opinions; unlaw|ful books, ballads, and other pernicious and hurtful devices, engendering hatred amongst the people, and discord among the same. And that school|masters, preachers, and teachers, do exercise and ••se their offices and duties without teaching, preach|••••••, or setting forth any evil and corrupt doctrine, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that doing the contrary, they may be by the bishop and his said officers punished and removed.

Item, THAT every bishop, and all other persons ••foresaid, proceeding summarily, and with all cele|••ity and speed, may and shall deprive or declare de|prived and remove, according to their learning and discretion, all such persons from their benefices and ••cclesiastical promotions, who contrary to the state of their order, and the laudable custom of the church, have married and used women as their wives, or otherwise notably and slande••••usly disordered or abused themselves: sequestering also, during the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 process, the fruits and profits of the said bene|••••••es and ecclesiastical promotions.

Item, THAT the said bishop, and all other persons aforesaid, do use more ••enity and clemency with such as have married, whose wives be dead, than with other whose women do yet remain alive. And likewise such priests, as with the consent of their wives or women openly in the presence of the bish|op do profess to abstain, to be used more favour|ably. In which case, after the penance effectually done, the archbishop, according to his discretion and wisdom, may upon just consideratio•• receive and admit them again to their former administra|tion, so it be not in the same place, appointing them such a portion to live upon, to be paid out of their benefice whereof they be deprived, by discretion of the said bishop or his officer, as he shall think may be spared of the said benefice.

Item, THAT every bishop, and all other persons aforesaid, do foresee that they suffer not any reli|gious man, having solemnly professed chastity, to continue with his woman or wife, but that all such persons, after deprivation of their benefice or eccle|siastical promotion, be also divorced every one from his said woman, and due punishment otherwise taken for the offence therein.

Item, THAT every bishop, and all other persons aforesaid, do take order and direction with the pa|rishioners of every benefice, where priests do want, to repair to the next parish for divine service, or to appoint for a convenient time, till other better provision may be made, one curate to serve in the room of another, in divers parishes, and to allot to the curate for his labour some portion of the bene|fice that he so serveth.

Item, THAT all and all manner of processions of the church be used and frequented, and continued after the old order of the church, in the Latin tongue.

Item, THAT all such holy days and fasting days be observed and kept, as were observed and kept in the latter time of king Henry the eighth.

Item, THAT the laudable and honest ceremonies which were w••nt to be used, frequented, and ob|served in the church, be also hereafter frequented, used, and observed.

Item, THAT childr•••• be christened by the priest, and confirmed by the bishop, as heretofore hath been accustomed and used.

Item, TOUCHING ••••ch persons as were heretofore promoted to any ord••••, after the new sort and fa|shion of orders: con••••••••ring they were not ordered in very deed, the bishop of the diocese, finding otherwise sufficiency and ability i•• those men, may supply that thing which wanted i•• them before, ••nd then according to his discretion ••dmit them to minister.

Item, THAT by the bishop of the diocese an uni|form doctrine be set forth by Homilies, or other|wise, for the good instruction and teaching of all people: And that the said bishop and other persons aforesaid, do compel the parishioners to come to their several churches, and there devoutly to hear divine service, as of reason they ought.

Item, THAT they examine all schoolmasters and teachers of children, and finding them suspected in any wise, to remove them, and place catholic men in their rooms, with a special commandment to in|struct their children, so as they may be able to answer the priest at the mass, as hath been ac|customed.

Item, THAT the said bishop, and all other the persons aforesaid, have such regard, respect, and consideration of and for the setting forth of the pre|mises, with all kind of virtue, godly living, and good example, with repressing also and keeping under of vice and unthriftiness, as they and every of them may be seen to favour the restitution of true religion; and also to make an honest acc••un•• and reckoning of their office and cure, to the hono•• of God, our good content and profit of this our realm, and the dominions of the same.

A like charge also, with articles, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sent from queen Mary to the lord mayor of London, the fourth day of March, in the same year, who, upon receiving the same, directed his commandment to the aldermen, every one severally in his ward, as followeth:

By the LORD MAYOR.

ON the queen our most ••racious and most be|nign sovereign lady's behalf, we most straitly charge and command you, that ye the said aldermen fail not personally to call before your own person in such place within your said ward, as to you shall seem most convenient and meet, upon Wednesday next coming, which shall be the seventh day of this present month, at seven o'clock in the morning of the same day, all and every the housholders both poor and rich of your said ward, and then and there openly and plainly for your own discharge, and for the eschewing the perils that to you might other|wise be justly imputed and laid, do not only straitly admonish, charge, and command, in the queen our said sovereign lady's name and behalf, all and every the said housholders, that both in their own persons, and also their wives, children, and servants, being of the age of twelve years and upwards, and every of them, do at all and every time or times from henceforth, and namely, at the holy time of Easter now approaching, honestly, quietly, obediently, and catholicly, use and behave themselves like good and faithful christian people, in all and every thing and things touching and concerning the true faith, pro|fession, and religion of his catholic church, both according to the laws and precepts of Almighty God, and also their bounden duty of obedience to|wards our sovereign lady the queen, her laws and statutes, and her highness's most good example and gracious proceeding according to the same, and ac|cording also to the right, wholesome, charitable and godly admonition, charge, and exhortation, late set forth and given, by the right reverend father in God, the bishop of London, our diocesan and ordi••nary, to all the parsons, vicars, and curates, within his diocese; but also, that they and every of them do truly, without delay, advertise you of the names and surnames of all and every person and persons, that they, or any of them, can or may at any time hereafter know, perceive or understand to transgress or offend, in any point or article concerning the premises, at their utmost perils. That ye, imme|diately after such notice thereof to you given, do forthwith advertise us thereof. Fail ye not thus to do with all circumspection and diligence, as ye wi••l answer to our said most dread sovereign lady the queen for the contrary at your like peril. Given at the Guild-hill of the city of London, the 5th day of March, in the first year of the reign of our said sovereign lady the queen.

BLACKWELL.

AND likewise do you give to every of the said housholders straitly in commandment, that they or their wives depart not out of the said city, until this holy time of Easter be past.

ABOUT the same year and time that Bonner pub|lished his prescript or charge, there came from the queen another proclamation, commanding all fo|reigners and strangers to depart this realm. The

copy of which proclamation, which related chiefly to religion and doctrine, is as followeth.

A Copy of the QUEEN'S PROCLAMATION for driving Foreigners and Strangers out of the Realm.

"THE queen our sovereign lady, understanding that a multitude of evil disposed persons, being born out of her highness's dominions in other sundry nations, flying from the obeysance of the princes and rulers under whom they be born, (some for heresy, some for murder, treason, robbery, and some for other horrible crimes,) be resorted into this her majesty's realm and here have made their de|murrer, and yet be commorant and lingering, partly to es|chew such condign punishment as their said horrible crimes deserve, and partly to dilate, plant, and sow the seeds of their malicious doctrine and l••wd conversation among the good subjects of this her said realm, on purpose to infect her good subjects with the like, insomuch as besides innumerable heresies, which divers of the same being heretics have preached and taught within her highness's said realm, it is assuredly known unto her majesty, that not only their secret practices have not failed to stir, comfort, and aid divers of her highness's subjects to this most unnatural rebellion against God and her grace, but also some other of them desist not still to practise with her people forthwith to rebel: her majesty therefore, having (as aforesaid) knowledge and in|telligence hereof, hath for remedy herein determined and most straitly chargeth and commandeth, that all and every such person and persons born out of her highness's domi|nions, now commorant or resident within this realm, of whatsoever nation or country, being either preacher, prin|ter, bookseller, or other artificer, or of whatsoever calling else, not being denizen or merchant known using the trade of merchandize, or servant to such ambassadors as be li••gers here from the princes and states joined in league with her grace, shall within twenty-four days of this proclamation, avoid the realm upon pain of most grievous punishment by imprisonment, and forfeitu••e and conf••••••ation of all their goods and moveables, and also to be delivered unto their natural 〈◊〉〈◊〉 or rulers, against whose persons or laws they have offended. G••••ing to all mayors, sheriffs, bai|liffs, constables, and all other her ministers, officers, and good 〈◊〉〈◊〉, straitly also in charge, if they know any such person, 〈…〉〈…〉 the queen's highness's dominions (ex|cept 〈…〉〈…〉) that shall, after the time and day li|mited 〈…〉〈…〉 proclamation, tarry within this realm, that they shall apprehend the said person or persons, and com|mit him or them to ward, there to remain without bail or mainprize, till her grace's pleasure or her council's be sig|nified unto them for the further ordering of the said person or persons. And that if any of her said officers, after the twenty-four days, apprehend, take o•• know of any such, they shall with all diligence immedia••ely certify her said council thereof, to the intent order may be forthwith given for their punishment accordingly."

UPON this proclamation, not only the strangers who were received into the realm, for the sake of religion, in king Edward's time, (among whom were Peter Martyr, and John Alasco, the king of Poland's Uncle) but many Englishmen also fled, some to Friezland, some to Cleveland, some into high Germany; where they were diversly scattered into different companies and congregations, at We|sel, Frankfort, Basil, Zurich, Geneva, and other places; wherein, by the providence of God, near eight hundred persons were all sustained, and entertained, with much greater kindness, by stran|gers abroad, than they could be in their own country at home.

IN the month of March likewise, the lord Courtney, earl of Devonshire, and the queen's sister, by a political trick of Stephen Gardiner, bi|shop of Winchester, were committed to the Tower, under a pretended suspicion of their having been consenting to Wyat's conspiracy. This Gardiner had always been a capital enemy to lady Elizabeth, and by means of Wyat's rebellion, the jesuitical bishop hoped to gather something, whereby he might accuse both that princess and lord Courtney; but the same day si•• Thomas Wyat was executed, he desired the lieutenant of the Tower to conduct him to the presence of lord Courtney; where, before the lieutenant and the sheriffs, kneeling down he besought lord Courtney's forgiveness, for that he had falsely accused both him and the lady Eliza|beth▪ and when carried from thence to the scaffold, he there, publicly, in the face of all the spectators, declared, that the lady Elizabeth and lord Courtney were entirely innocent, and had not the least know|ledge of, nor the least concern in the Kentish insurrection. At which confession, Dr. Weston, standing by, had the assurance to add••ess the people, saying, "Believe him not, good people, for he confessed otherwise to the council."

NOT long after this, a certain apprentice, living in St. Lawrance-lane, named Cut▪ as he was drink|ing with Denham, a plasterer, happened to say, that sir Thomas Wyat had cleared lady Elizabeth,

and lord Courtney, of consenting to his rising; which words being brought to, (by what means was not known) sir Andrew Judd was immediately se••t by the bishop to the lord mayor, commanding him to bring the said apprentice to the star-chamber, he being accused for saying, that Wyat was constrained by the council to accuse lady Elizabeth and lord Courtney. When this man was brought to the star-chamber, Gardiner, setting aside all other mat|ters in hand, began with declaring, how miracu|lously almighty God had brought the queen to the crown, the whole realm being in a manner against her; which event he had brought to pass, for the singular intent and purpose, that this realm being overspread with heresies, she might reduce the same again to the true catholic faith; and as to the lady Elizabeth, having taken her into favour, she had loved her tenderly, and also the lord Courtney, who had been long detained in prison, whom she had set at liberty, bestowing great benefits upon him; yet, notwithstanding all this, they had both most unna|turally and traitorously conspired against her with that heinous traitor Wyat, as (said he) by the confession of Wyat, and the letters sent to and fro, may plainly appear: but there were some in the city of London who reported, that Wyat was con|strained by the council, to accuse lady Elizabeth, and lord Courtney; and you, (said he to the May|or) my lord, have not seen the same punished. "The party is here, returned the lord mayor." Take him with you, (said Gardiner) and punish him according to his desert; and further, my lord, take heed to your charge; the city of London is a whirlpool and sink of all evil rumours, where they be bred, and from thence spread into all parts of the realm. When he had said this, lord Shandois, lieutenant of the Tower, who stood by at the same time, in order to flatter the bishop in his tale, thus spoke; "My lords, this is a truth that I shall tell you. Being lieutenant of the Tower, when Wyat suffered, he desired me to bring him to lord Court|ney; which when I had done, he fell down on his knees before him in my presence, and desired him to confess the truth of himself, which he had done before, and submit himself to the queen's majesty's mercy."

THUS much (says Mr. Fox) I thought fit to de|clare of the matter, to the intent, that the reader, perceiving the bishop's proceedings in the premises, and comparing the same with the testimony of the sheriffs, who were present the same time when sir Thomas Wyat asked the lord Courtney forgiveness, may better judge of the whole case and matter, for which the lady Elizabeth and the lord Courtney were so long in trouble.

QUEEN MARY after this, partly fearing the Lon|doners, by reason of Wyat's conspiracy, and partly perceiving most of the city, for the sake of religion, not greatly to favour her proceedings, in order to shew her displeasure, and to their hindrance, summonsed a parliament to be held at Oxford, with a view also of gratifying that city, where both the university, town, and country, had shewn themselves very obedient and forward, especially in restoring the catholic religion. For this purpose, great provision was made, as well by the queen's officers, as by the townsmen of Oxford, and the country round about. But her majesty's mind soon changed, and in April following, the same parliament was held at West|minster; where the queen, among other matters, proposed her marriage with king Philip, which was agreed upon; and likewise the pope's supremacy, which was agreed upon; and likewise the restoring of the pope's supremacy, which could not be ob|tained. At the same time when this parliament was summonsed, the queen likewise summonsed a con|vocation of the bishops and clergy, writing unto Bonner, (whom she had made vicegerent in the room of Cranmer, then in the Tower) in the fol|lowing stile, different from that of Henry VIII. and Edward VI.

"MARY, by the grace of God, of England, France, and Ireland, queen, defender of the faith; to the Rev. father in God, Edmund, lord bishop of London, sendeth greeting, &c."

HERE the queen's title is altered, the latter part being omitted, namely, "Of the churches of En|gland and Ireland, supreme," because in this session of parliament the supremacy was taken from the crown of England, and restored to the pope: and bishop Bonner giving his certificate upon the same, leaves out Autoritate, &c. "By the authority of our most illustrious queen impowered;" which part of the bishop's title, in the same parliament,

was likewise repealed and taken away. It is also to be observed, that on opening the convocation, Bonner, bishop of London, made a certain exhor|tation, or oration, to the clergy then assembled, wherein he set forth the most incomparable and superangelical order of priesthood, as will appear from the following fragment, collected by some present, which is well worthy the reader's notice, both because the author of it should not be forgot, and because the estimation of the blessed order should lose nothing of its pre-eminence; an order, which, according to bishop Bonner, standeth above angels and kings.

BONNER'S ORATION, in praise of PRIESTHOOD.

WHEREFORE it is to be known, that priests and elders be worthy of all men to be wor|shipped for the dignity sake which they have of God, as in Matthew xvi. "Whatsoever ye shall loose upon earth, &c. and whatsoever ye shall bind," &c. For a priest by some means is like Mary the Virgin, and is shewed by three points; as the blessed Virgin by five words did conceive Christ, as it is said, Luke i. Fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum: that is to say, "Be it unto me according to thy word:" so the priest by five words doth make the body of Christ. Even as immediately after the consent of Mary, Christ was whole in her womb; so immedi|ately after the speaking of the words of consecration, the bread is substantiated into the very body of Christ. Secondly, As the Virgin carried Christ in her arms, and laid him in an ox-stall after his birth; even so the priest, after the consecration, doth lift up the body of Christ, and placeth it, and carrieth it, and handleth it with his hands. Thirdly, As the blessed Virgin was sanctified before she had conceived; so the priest being ordained and anoint|ed before he doth consecrate, because without orders he could consecrate nothing; therefore the lay-man cannot do that thing, although he be ever so holy, and do spenk the self-same words of consecration. Therefore here is to be known, that the dignity of priests by some means passeth the dignity of angels, because there is no power given to any of the an|gels to make the body of Christ. Whereby the least priest may do on earth, what the highest and greatest angel in heaven cannot do, as St. Ber|nard saith, "O worshipful dignity of priests, in whose hands the son of God is, as in the womb of the Virgin he was incarnate••" St. Augustine saith, That angels in the consecration of the sacred host do serve him, and the Lord of heaven descendeth to him. Whereupon St. Ambrose upon St. Luke saith, "Doubt thou not the angels to be where Christ is present upon the altar." Wherefore priests are to be honoured before all kings of the earth, princes, and nobles. For a priest is higher than a king, happier than an angel, maker of his Creator. Wherefore, &c.

WE have here before observed, that Dr. Ridley was removed from Fremingham to the Tower; while there, being one day invited to the lord lieu|tenant's table, he had a conference, or conversation, with secretary Bourne, Mr. Fecknam, (the queen's commissioners,) and others, concerning the contro|versies in religion; the sum whereof, as penned by Dr. Ridley himself, is as follows.

A CONVERSATION that passed in the TOWER, at the LORD LIEUTENANT'S TABLE, between Dr. RID|LEY, SECRETARY BOURNE, and Mr. FECKNAM.

MR. THOMAS BRIDGES said, at his brother's, the lord lieutenant's table, I pray you, doctors, for my information, tell me what an heretic is. Se|cretary Bourne said, I will tell you who is an heretic; whoso stubbornly and stiffly maintaineth an untruth he is an heretic. You mean, sir, said I, an untruth in matters of religion, and concerning our faith. Yes, that is true, said he; and in this we are soon agreed. Then said Mr. Fecknam, whom they cal|led master dean of St. Paul's, sitting at the upper end of the table, I will tell you by St. Augustine who is an heretic; "He that either for the sake of princes, or for the sake of filthy lucre, sets on foot or propagates wrong notions, he is an heretic." Sir, said I, I think St. Augustine addeth the third number, which is, "Or for the sake of vain glory." You say even true, master doctor, said he, and thus far we did agree all three.

MR. FECKNAM began again, saying, Whoso doth not believe what the scripture affirmeth, but will obstinately maintain the contrary, he is an heretic: as in the sacrament of the altar, Matthew doth affirm there to be Christ's body, Mark doth affirm it, Luke affirmeth it, Paul affirmeth it, and none deni|eth

it: therefore to hold the contrary, is heresy. It is the same body and flesh that was born of the virgin; and this is confirmed by unity, antiquity, and universality. For none before Berengarius did ever doubt of this, and he was an heretic, as master doctor there knoweth full well; I do take to witness his own conscience, said he.

IN truth, said the secretary, Mr. Fecknam hath spoken well. These are great matters unity, antiquity, and universality. Do not you think so, Dr. Ridley?

HERE, while I seemed unwilling to talk, one of the commissioners said, Peradventure Dr. Ridley doth agree with Mr. Fecknam, and in that case there needs not much debating of the matter.

SIR, said I, in some things I do, and shall agree with him; and in some things which he has spoken, to be plain, I do not agree with him at all. Mas|ters, said I, ye are (as I understand) the queen's commissioners here, and if ye have commission to ex|amine me in these matters, I shall declare unto you plainly my faith; if ye have not, then I shall pray you either to give me leave to speak my mind freely, or else to hold my peace.

THERE is none here, said the secretary, that doth not favour you: and then every man shewed what favour they bare towards me, and how glad they would be of an agreement.

TAKING this shew of courtesy for a licence to speak my sentiments freely, I thus proceeded:

TO Mr. Fecknam's arguments of the manifold affirmations where no denial was, I answered: Where is a multitude of affirmations in scripture, and where is one affirmation, all is one concerning the truth of the matter; for that which any one of the evangelists spake, inspired by the Holy Ghost, was as true as that which is spoken of them all. It is as true what John saith of Christ, "I am the door of the sheep," as if all had said it. For it is not in scripture as in witness of men, where the number is credited more than one, because it is un|certain with what spirit he doth speak. And where Mr. Fecknam spake of so many, affirming, without any negation, &c. Sir, said I, all they do affirm the thing which they meant. Now if ye take their words, to leave their meaning, then do they affirm what ye take, but not what they meant. If in talk with you, I should so utter my mind in words, that ye by the same do, and may plainly perceive my meaning, and could, if you would be captious, cavil at my words, and writhe them to another sense. I would think ye were no gentle companions to talk with, except ye would take my words as ye perceived I did mean.

MR. FECKNAM perceiving whereunto my dis|course tended, said, What circumstances can you shew that shall move me to think of any other sense than as the words plainly say, "This is my body which shall be betrayed for you?"

SIR, said I, even the next sentence that followeth, viz. "Do this in my remembrance." And also by what reason ye say the bread is turned into Christ's carnal body, by the same I may say, that it is turn|ed into his mystical body. For as that saith of it, "This is my body which shall be betrayed for you;" so Paul, who spake by Christ's Spirit, saith, "We being many, are all but one bread and one body, inasmuch as we are partakers of one bread.

HERE he called one bread, one loaf, said the secretary.

YES, said I, one loaf, one bread, all is one with me.

BUT what say you of the universality, antiquity, and unity, that Mr. Fecknam spoke of▪

I assure you, said I, I think them weighty mat|ters, and to be considered well. As for unity, the truth is before God, I do believe it, and embrace it, so it be with varity, and joined to our head Christ, and such an one as St. Paul speaketh of, saying, "One faith, one God, one baptism." And for antiquity, I am also persuaded that to be true which Irenaeus saith, That which is first is true. In our religion Christ's faith was first truly taught by Christ himself, by his apostles, and by many good men, that from the beginning did succeed next unto

them; and for this controversy of the sacrament, I am persuaded that those old writers, which wrote before the controversy, and the usurping of the see of Rome, do all agree, if they be well understood in this truth.

NOW as for universality, it may have two mean|ings; one to understand that to be universal, which from the beginning in all ages hath been allowed; another to understand universality for the multitude of our age, or of any other singular age.

NO, no, said Mr. Secretary, these three do al|ways agree, and where there is one, there is all the rest: and here he and I changed many words. To be short in this matter, we did not agree.

THERE was none, said Mr. Fecknam, before ••erengarius, Wickliffe, and Huss, and now in our days Carolostadius and O••colampadius. Carolosta|dius saith, Christ pointed to his own body, and not to the sacrament, and said, This is my body. And Melancthon writeth to one Miconius (Miconius? said I) these or the like words: "I can find no grounded reason to cause me to dissent from the be|lief of our fore-fathers." Sir, said I, it is certain that others before them have written of this mat|ter, and whole books treat of it alone, as Ber|tram, &c.

BERTRAM? said the secretary, what man was he? and who was he? and how do you know, &c. with many more questions.

SIR, said I, I have read his book; he propoundeth the same which is now in controversy, and answereth so directly, that no man may doubt but that he af|firmeth, that the substance of bread remaineth still in the sacrament, and wrote unto Carolus Magnus.

NAY, said he, but observe, he wrote to Henricus, and not to Carolus; for no author maketh any such mention of Bertram.

YES, I replied, Trithemius, in his catalogue of famous writers, speaketh of him; and though Tri|themus was but of late time, yet he speaketh of them that were of antiquity. Here, after much discourse about Bertram, what authors can you mention, said Mr. Secretary, who make of the sa|crament a figure?

SIR, said I, you know (I think) that Tertullian, in plain words, speaketh thus; This is my body; that is to say, a figure of my body. And Gelasius saith plainly, that the substance of bread remaineth. And Origen likewise, That which is sanctified, as touching the matter or substance, passeth away into the draught. Upon this Mr. Secretary said to me, you know very well as any man, &c. And here, if I would, I might have been set in a foolish para|dise of his commendation of my learning, and a man of much reading. But this I would not take at his hand. He set me not up so high, but I brought myself as low again; and here was much ado.

AS for Melancthon (said I) whom Mr. Fecknam spake of, I marvel that ye will alledge him, for we are more nigh an agreement here in England, than the opinion of Melancthon is to you: for in this point we all agree here, that in the sacrament there is but one material substance, and Melancthon, as I think, saith there are two.

TRUE, said Mr. Secretary; Melancthon's opi|nion is so. But you have heard, that the sacrament was i•• old time so reverenced, that many were then forbidden to be present at the ministration thereof: Catec••••meni, and many more.

YES, sir, there were some called Audientes, some Poenite••••••••, some Catechumeni, and some Energu|meni, which were commanded to depart.

NOW, then, (said he) how can you make but a figure or a sign of the sacrament, as that book doth which is set forth in my lord of Canterbury's name? I know you can tell who made it; did not you make it? and here was much murmuring of the rest, as though they would have given me the glory of the writing of that book; which yet was said of some there to contain the most heinous heresy that ever was.

MR. Secretary, said I, that book was made by a great learned man, and one who is able to do the like again: as for me I assure you (be not deceived in me) I was never able to do or write any such like

thing; he surpasseth me no less than the learned master his young scholar.

BUT, sir, methinks it is not charitable to suppose any man doth so lightly esteem the sacrament, as to make of it only a figure; for your [but] mak|eth it a mere figure, without any more profit, which that book doth often deny, as appeareth to all rea|ders plainly.

YES, said he, that they do.

SIR, I replied, of a truth they do not; as for my|self, I assure you, I say, that whosoever receiveth the sacrament, receiveth therewith either life o•• death.

THE scripture saith not so, returned Mr. Secre|tary.

SIR, said I, although not in the same sound of words, yet it doth in the same sense, and St. Au|gustine saith it in the sound of words also: for Paul saith, "The bread which we break, is it not the partaking or fellowship of the body of Christ? And St. Augustine, Eat life, drink life.

THEN said Mr. Pope, what can ye make of it when ye say, "There is not the real body of Christ, which I do believe, &c. and I pray God, I may never believe other. How can it bring (as ye say) either life or death, when Christ's body is not there."

SIR, I replied, when you hear God's word truly preached, if you do believe it, and abide in it, you shall and do receive life withal; and if you do not believe it, it doth bring unto you death: and yet Christ's body is still in heaven, and not carnal in every preacher's mouth.

TELL me, said he, how can you answer to this, "Which shall be given for you." Was the figure of Christ's body given for us?

NO, sir, but the very body itself, whereof the sa|crament is a sacramental figure.

HOW say you then, said he, to, "Which shall be given for you?"

CERTAINLY, Tertullian's exposition maketh it plain, for he saith, "The body is a figure of the body." Now add, "Which shall be given for you;" and it agreeth exceeding well.

FAITH, said he, I would give forty pounds that you were of a good opinion. For I assure you, I have heard you, and had an affection to you.

I thank you, Mr. Pope, for your heart and mind, and you know I were a very fool, should I in this matter dissent from you, if that, in my conscience, the truth did not inforce me so to do. For I know, (as you do also) it is somewhat out of my way, if I would esteem worldly gain.

WHAT say you, said he, to Cyprian? Doth he not say plainly, The bread which the Lord did de|liver being changed, not according to the form, but according to the nature thereof, by the omnipotent word is made flesh.

TRUE, sir, so he doth say, and I answer even the same which once by chance I preached at Paul's-Cross in a sermon, for the which I have been as unjustly and untruly reported of as any poor man hath been. For there I speaking of the sacrament, and inveigh|ing against them that esteemed it no better than a piece of bread, told even the same thing of Poeni|tentes, Audientes, Catechumeni, Energumeni, that I spake of before: and I bad them depart as un|worthy to hear the mystery; and then I said to those that were worthy, Cyprian the Martyr shall tell you how it is that Christ calleth it, saying, "Bread is the body, meat, drink, flesh," because unto this material substance is given the property of the thing whereof it beareth the name: and I then took occasion to utter, as the time would per|mit, that the material substance of bread doth re|main. Mr. Fecknam (who, as is reported to me, did belye me openly in the same matter at Paul's-Cross) when he heard this, coloured as red as scar|let, and answered not a word.

YOU know well, said Mr. Secretary, that Origen and Tertullian were not catholic, but erred.

SIR, I replied, all the doctors are thought to have erred in some points; yet, I never heard, that it was

ever laid either to Origen's charge, or to Tertul|lian, that ever they were thought to have erred in this matter of the sacrament.

WHAT, said Mr. Cholmley, late chief justice, doth not Christ plainly say, that it is his very flesh, and his very blood, and we must needs eat him, or else we can have no life? Sir, said I, if you will hear how St Augustine expounded that place, you shall perceive that you are mistaken. And then I began to tell St. Augustine's mind in his book of the doctrine of christianity. Yes, yes, said Mr. Secretary, that is true, St. Augustine doth it figu|ratively indeed.

FORTY years ago, said Mr. Fecknam, all were of one opinion in this matter.

FORTY years ago, I observed, all held that the bishop of Rome was supreme head of the universal church.

MR. SECRETARY said that was but a positive law.

A positive law! no, sir, the pope would not have it so: for it is in his decrees, that he challenged it by Christ's own word. For his decree saith, The church of Rome was advanced above all other churches in the world, not by any synodical consti|tutions, nor any councils, but by the lively voice of the Lord, according as the Lord said to Peter, Thou art Peter, &c. And in another place he in|terpreteth, Thou art Cephas, that is to say, the head.

TUSH, it was not counted an article (said Mr. Secretary) of our faith.

YES, said I, if you call that an article of our faith, which is believed under pain of damnation. For he saith, We do absolutely determine, declare, and pronounce, that every creature is subject to the obedience of the said bishop of Rome upon necessi|ty of salvation.

AND here when we spake of laws and decrees, Mr. Roger Cholmley thought himself much wrong|ed that he could not be suffered to speak, the rest were so ready to interrupt him▪ and then he told a long tale, what laws were by kings in England made against the bishop of Rome, and was vehe|ment to tell how they of the clergy did always fly t•• him. And here, because he seemed 〈◊〉〈◊〉 speak of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 things beside our purpose, whereof 〈◊〉〈◊〉 speak before, he was answered of his fellows, and I let them talk.

〈…〉〈…〉 departed in peace, and Mr. Secre|tary 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the end, that of their conversation there should come to me no harm. And ••fter I had lamented the want of my books, he said, they were all once given him: but since •• know (said he) who hath them now, write me th•• names of such as you would have, and I will speak for you the best I can.

UPON the articles before-mentioned, and inqu••|sition made upon the same, divers ministers were divorced from their wives. Amongst whom was one John Draper, and Joan Gold his wife, in the diocese of London, troubled and vexed for the same by Bonner, bishop of London, who sent for a com|mission with a process to sequester and sepa••••••e them, enjoining also penance to the poor woman.

MANY others were also divorced the same time against their wills; and some were contented of their own accord, to be separated from their wives: as of Chichester one, (who, because he soon reco|vered again, shall be here nameless) another nam|ed Edmund Alstone, another Alexander Bull, a|mongst whom also was Dr. Standish, with many others.

March, 1554. On the 10th, a letter was sent to the lieutenant of the Tower to deliver the bodies of Dr. Cranmer the archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Ridley, and Mr. Latimer, to sir John Williams, to be conveyed by him to Oxford.

ON the 26th of the same month, a letter was di|rected to sir Henry Doel, and one Foster, to arrest the bodies of the Rev. Dr. Taylor, of Hadley, and of Henry Askew, and to send them up to ••he council.

CHAP. IV. An authentic Account of a PUBLIC DISPUTATION, appointed by the QUEEN'S special Com|mand, in a CONVOCATION held at ST. MARY'S CHURCH, in OXFORD, with the Order, Manner, Condemnation, and all other Circumstances appertaining to the said DISPUTATION.

ABOUT the tenth of April, Cranmer, arch|bishop of Canterbury, Ridley bishop of London, and Hugh Latimer, sometime bishop of Worchester, were conveyed as prisoners from the Tower to Windsor; and from thence to the uni|versity of Oxford, there to dispute with the divines and learned men of both the universities, Oxford and Cambridge, about the presence, substance, and sacrifice of the sacrament. The names of the uni|versity doctors, and graduates, appointed to dispute against them, were these; of Oxford, Dr. Weston, prolocutor, Dr. Tresham, Dr. Cole, Dr. Ogle|thrope, Dr. Pie, Mr. Harpsfield, and Mr. Feck|nam. Of Cambridge, Dr. Young, vice-chancellor, Dr. Glin, Dr. Seaton, Dr. Watson, Dr. Sedge|wick, Dr. Atkinson, &c. The articles or ques|tions whereupon they should dispute were these:

1. WHETHER the natural body of Christ be re|ally in the sacrament, after the words spoken by the priest, or not?

2. WHETHER in the sacrament, after the words of co••••••••ration, any other substance do remain, than the substance of the body and blood of Christ?

3. WHETHER in the mass there be a sacrifice propitiatory for the sins of the quick and the dead?

TOUCHING the order and manner of all which things there done, with the notes, arguments, and all circumstances thereunto pertaini••g, to deduce the matter from the beginning, leaving out nothing (as near as we may) that shall seem necessary to be added: First, Here is to be understood, that upon Saturday the 7th day of April, the heads of the colleges in Cambridge being assembled together, letters coming down from Stephen Gardiner, lord chancellor, were read with articles therewith annex|ed, that should be disputed upon at Oxford: the contents of which three articles are sufficiently ex|pressed before. Whereupon in the said congrega|tion of the aforesaid university of Cambridge, there was granted first a grace in this form, proposed by a senior proctor; "May it please you to have an instrument made, that the doctrine of these foresaid articles is sound and catholic, and consonant with the verity of the right meaning faith, and that the same may be approved by your consent and voices?" Secondly, In the said congregation, another grace was given and granted, that Dr. Young being vice-chancellor, Dr. Glin, Dr. Atkinson, Dr. Scot, and Mr. Sedgewick, should go to Oxford to defend the said articles against Canterbury, London, and Latimer: also to have letters to the Oxford-men▪ sealed with their common seal. Item, Another grace was granted to Mr. Sedgewick to be actual doctor, being threupon immediately admitted. The foresaid letters being then drawn out, the third day after, (which was the 11th day of April) were read in the foresaid congregation-house, and there sealed.

THE day after, being the 12th of the same month, the doctors of that university, set forward to Ox|ford, where they arrived on the 13th of April, and lodged all at the Cross-inn, with one Wakecline, some time a servant to bishop Bonner.

SOON after their coming, Dr. Crooke presented them with wine for their welcome; and shortly after, two of their beadles came from the vice-chan|cellor of Oxford, and presented the vice chancellor of Cambridge with a dish of apples and a gallon of wine: after whom Mr. Pie and Fecknam came next to welcome them. Then after consultation concerning the delivery of their letters, and instru|ment of grace which was in Dr. Seaton and Dr▪

Watson's keeping) they all went to Lincoln college to Dr. Weston the prolocutor, and to Dr. Tresham the vice-chancellor, to whom they delivered their letters, declaring what they had done touching the articles, letters, and graces. Half an hour after eight they returned to their inn again; but first concluded on a procession, sermon, and convocation, on the day following, and that the doctors of Cam|bridge should be incorporated with the university of Oxford, and that the doctors of Oxford should be incorporated with the university of Cambridge. The same day, the three prisoners were separated, Dr. Ridley to the house of Mr. Irish, Mr. Latimer to another, and Dr. Cranmer remained still in Bo|cardo, a prison in Oxford.

ON Saturday, April 14th, at eight o'clock, the vice-chancellor of Cambridge, with the other doc|••or of the same university, repairing to Lincoln college again, found the prolocutor above in the chapel, with a company of the house singing mass for the dead, and tarried the••e until the end. Then having consulted together in the masters room, a|bout nine they all came to the university church, called St. Mary's, where, after a short consultation in a chapel, the vice-chancellor, the prolocutor, &c. of Oxford, caused the vice-chancellor of Cam|bridge, and the rest of the doctors of that universi|ty, to send their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 robes brought from Cam|bridge, save that Dr. Seaton and Watson borrowed of the Oxford men. By this time the regents, in the congregation-house, had granted all the Cam|bridge doctors their graces, to be incorporate there; and so they went up and were immediately admit|ted, Dr. Ogleth••••pe presenting them, and the proctor reading the statute, and giving them their oaths.

THAT done, they all came into the quire, and there held the convocation of the university▪ they had mass of the Holy Ghost solemnly sung before them by the quire-men of Christ's church: but first the cause of the convocation was opened in English, partly by the vice-chancello••▪ and partly by the pro|locutor, declaring that they were sent by the queen, and wherefore they were sent, and caused Mr. Say the register openly to read the commission. That done, the vice-chancellor read the Cambridge let|ters openly, and then concluded, that three nota|ries, Mr. Sey for the convocation, a beadle of Cam|bridge for that university, and one Mr. White for Oxford, should testify of their doing, and then or|dered the said notaries to provide parchment, that the whole assembly might subscribe to the articles, except those that had subscribed before in the con|vocation house at London and Cambridge; and so the vice-chancellor began first, the rest of the Ox|ford men after him, as many as could in the mass time.

MASS being done, they went in procession: first, the quire in their surplices followed the cross; then the first-year regents and proctors: then the doctors of law, and their beadles before them; then the doctors of divinity of both universities intermin|gled, the divinity and arts-beadles going before them; the vice-chancellor and prolocutor going together. After them batchelors of divinity, re|gents and non-regents, in the•••• array; and last of all, the batchelors of law and art; after whom followed a great company of scholars and students not graduate: and thus they proceeded through the street to Christ's-church, and there the quire sung a psalm, and after that a collect was read. This done, the commissioners, doctors, and many others, went to Lincoln college, where they dined with the mayor of the town, one alderman, four beadles, Mr. Sey, and the Cambridge notary. After dinner they all went again to St. Mary's church; and there, after a short consultation in a chapel, all the commissioners came into the quire, and sat on seats before the altar, to the number of thirty-three persons: and first they sent to the mayor, that he should bring in Dr. Cranmer, who within a while was brought to them with a number of trusty bill-men.

THE reverend archbishop, when he was brought before the commissioners, paid his respects to them with much humility, and stood with his staff in his hand, who, notwithstanding having a stool offered him, refused to sit. Then the prolocutor sitting in the midst in a scarlet gown, began with a short preface or oration in praise of unity, and especially in the church of Christ; declaring withal, Dr. Cranmer's bringing up, and taking degrees in Cambridge, and also how he was promoted by king Henry, and had been his counsellor and a catholic

man, one of the same unity, and a member there|of in times past, but of late years did separate and cut off himself from it, by teaching and setting forth erroneous doctrine; making every year a new faith: and therefo•••• it pleased the queen's grace, to send them of the convocation and other learned men, to bring him to this unity again, if it might be. Then he shewed him how they of the convocation-house had agreed upon certain articles, whereunto they desired him to subscribe.

TO this preface the archbishop answered very wittily, modestly, and learnedly, shewing that he was very glad of an unity, forasmuch as it was the preserver of all common-wealths, as well of the heathen, as of the christians; and so he humoured the matter with one or two stories of the Romans' common-wealth. Which when he had done, he said, that he was very glad to come to an unity, so that it were in Christ, and agreeable to his holy word.

HAVING thus spoken his full mind, the prolocu|tor caused the articles to be read to him, and asked if he would grant and subscribe to them. Then the archbishop of Canterbury read them over three or four times, and touching the first article, he asked what they meant by these terms, "true and natural?" Do you not mean, said he, a sensible body? Some answered, The same that was born of the virgin: some said one thing, some another. Then the archbishop of Canterbury denied it ut|terly; and when he had looked upon the other two, he said they were all false, and against God's holy word: and therefore he would not agree, he said, in that unity with them. Which done, the prolo|cutor first willing him to write his mind of them that night, said moreover that he should dispute on them, and caused a copy of the articles to be de|livered him, assigning him to answer thereunto on Monday next, and so charged the mayor with him again, to be had to Bocardo, where he was kept before; offering moreover unto him, to name what books he would occupy, and he should have them brought to him. The archbishop was great|ly commend••d of every body for his modesty: in|somuch that some masters of arts were seen to weep for him, which in judgment were contrary to him.

THEN was Dr. Ridley brought in, who hearing the articles read to him, immediately replied, they were all false, and said further, that they sprang out of a bitter and sour root. His answers were sharp, witty, and very earnest. Then they laid to his charge a sermon that he made when he was bishop of Rochester, wherein (they said) he spake for transubstantiation. He denied it utterly, and asked whether they could bring out any that heard him, which would say and affirm the same with them. They could bring no proof of it all▪ Af|ter that, he was asked of one, whether he desired not my lord chancellor that now is, to stick to the mass, and other things? He said, that my lord would say no such things or words of him; for if he did, he reported not the truth of him.

THEN he was asked, whether he would dispute or no? He answered, "That as long as God gave him life, he should not only have his heart, but also his mouth and pen to defend his truth; but he re|quired time and books." They said he could not, and that he should dispute on Thursday, and till that time he should have books. He said it was unreasonable that he might not have his own books, and time also. Then they gave him the articles, and desired him to write his mind of them that night; after which, they commanded the mayor to have him from whence he came.

LAST of all came in Mr. Latimer, with a hand|kerchief, and two or three caps on his head, his spectacles hanging by a string at his breast, and a staff in his hand, and was set in a chair; for so was he suffered by the prolocutor. After his denial of the articles, when he had appointed Wednesday for disputation, he alledged age, sickness, disuse, and lack of books, saying, "That he was almost as meet to dispute, as to be a captain of Calic••: but he would, he said, declare his mind either by writ|ing or word, and would stand to all they could lay upon his back;" complaining moreover, "That he was permitted to have neither pen nor ink, nor yet any book but only the New-Testament there in his hand, which he said he had read over seven times deliberately, and yet could not find the mass in it, neither the marrow-bones nor sinews of the same." At which words the commissioners were not a little offended, and Dr. Weston said, "That

he would make him grant, that it had both mar|row-bones and sinews in the New Testament." To whom Mr. Latimer said again, "That you will never do, Mr. Doctor;" and so forthwith they put him to silence: so that when he was desi|rous to tell what he meant by those terms, he could not be suffered. There was so great a press and throng of people, that one of the beadles swooned by reason thereof, and was carried into the vestry. After this, bringing home the prolocutor first, the Cambridge men, viz. Dr. Young, vice-chancellor, Seaton, Glin, Atkinson, Scot, Watson, and Sedge|wick, went to the Cross inn to supper. And this was on Saturday the 14th of April.

AT nine o'clock, on Sunday morning, Mr. Harpsfield preached at St. Mary's, the university church, where divers of the doctors, in their robes, were placed in due order of precedency. After sermon, they all dined at Magdalen college, and supped at Lincoln college, with the prolocutor Dr. Weston; whither Dr. Cranmer sent his answer upon the articles, in writing.

ON Monday, being the 16th of April, Mr. Say, and Mr. White, notaries, went about in the mor|ning to get subscriptions to the articles. And at eight, the prolocutor, with all the doctors and the vice-chancellor, met together at Exeter college, from whence they proceeded to the divinity school, the place for disputation; and when the vice-chancellor, the prolocutor and doctors were placed, and four appointed to minute down the arguments, set at a table in the midst, four notaries also sitting with them, Dr. Cranmer came to the answerer's place, the mayor and aldermen sitting by him, and the disputation began with a short Pr••cludium, or introductory harangue from the prolocutor. This being ended. Dr. Chedsey began first to argue, but was interrupted frequently by the prolocutor and others▪ in short, every man said somewhat, as the prolocutor would suffer, disorderly, sometimes in Latin, sometimes in English, so that three hours were spent before Dr. Young, the vice-chancellor of Cambridge, began, who also was frequently interrupted. Thus the disputation continued until almost two o'clock, with this applause from the audience▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉 veritas "Truth hath overcome." Then were all the arguments written by the four appointed, delivered into the hands of Mr. Say, register. As for the prisoner, he was had away by the mayor, and the doctors dined together at the university college.

THUS much concerning the general order and manner of these disputations, with such circumstan|ces as there happened, and things there done, as well before the disputation, and in the preparation thereof, as also in the time of their disputing. Now followeth an account of the orations, argu|ments, and answers, used and brought forth in the said disputation, on both sides

The ARGUMENTS, REASONS, and ALLEGATIONS, used in this DISPUTATION.

ON Monday, Dr. Weston, with all the residue of the visitors, censors, and opponents, re|pairing to the divinity school, each one installed themselves in their places. Dr. Cranmer with a rout of rusty bills was brought thither, and set in the answerer's place, with the mayor and aldermen sitting by him: where Dr. Weston, prolocutor, apparelled in a scarlet gown, after the custom of the university, began the disputation with this oration:

"YOU are assembled hither, brethren, this day to confound the detestable heresy of the verity of the body of Christ in the sacrament," &c. At which words thus pronounced, unawares, by the prolocutor, several of the learned men there pre|sent considering, and well weighing, the words b•• him uttered, burst out into a great laughter, as though, even in the entrance of the disputation, he had betrayed himself and his religion, by terming the opinion of the verity of Christ's body in the sacrament a detestable heresy. The rest of his oration tended to this effect, "That it was not lawful, by God's word, to ••all these questions into controversy; for such as doubted of the words of Christ, might well be thought to doubt both of the truth and power of God." Whereunto Dr. Cranmer, desiring leave, thus answered;

"We are assembled (said he) to discuss these doubtful controversies, and to lay them open before the eyes of the world; whereof ye think it unlaw|ful

to dispute. It is indeed no reason that we should dispute of that which is determined upon before the truth be tried. But if these questions be not called into controversy, surely my answer then is looked for in vain." This was the sum of his answer; and this done, he prepared himself for disputation.

THEN Chedsey the first opponent began in this manner.

REV. Mr. Doctor, these three conclusions are put forth unto us at present to dispute upon;

1. IN the sacrament of the altar, is the natu|ral body of Christ, conceived of the virgin Mary, and also his blood, present really under the forms of bread and wine, by virtue of God's word pro|nounced by the priest.

2. THERE remaineth no substance of bread and wine after the consecration, nor of any other sub|stance, but the substance of God and man.

3. THE lively sacrifice of the church is in the mass propitiatory, as well for the quick as the dead.

THESE are the arguments whereupon this our present controversy doth rest. Now to the end we might not doubt how you take the same, you have already given unto us your opinion thereof. I term it your opinion, in that it disagreeth from the ca|tholic. Wherefore thus I argue.

CHED.

Your opinion differeth from scripture.

ERGO, You are deceived.

CRAN.

I deny the antecedent.

CHED.

Christ, when he instituted his last supper, spake to his disciples, "Take, eat, this is my body which shall be given for you."

BUT this true body was given for us:

ERGO, His true body is in the sacrament.

THE right form of this argument is thus to be framed.

THE same which was given for us in the sacra|ment.

BUT his true body was given for us:

ERGO, His true body is in the sacrament.

CRAN.

His true body is truly present to them that truly receive him; but spiritually. And so it is taken in a spiritual sense. For when he said, "This is my body," it is all one as if he had said, "This is the breaking of my body, this is the shedding of my blood." As often as you shall do this, it shall put you in remembrance of the break|ing of my body, and the shedding of my blood; that as truly as you receive this sacrament, so truly shall you receive the benefit promised by receiving the same worthily.

CHED.

Your opinion differeth from the church, which saith that the true body is in the sacra|ment.

ERGO, Your opinion therein is false.

CRAN.

I say and agree with the church, that the body of Christ is in the sacrament effectually, be|cause the passion of Christ is effectual.

CHED.

Christ, when he spake these words, "This is my body," spake of the substance, but not of the effect.

CRAN.

I grant that he spake of the substance, and not of the effect after a sort: and yet it is most true that the body of Christ is effectually in the sa|crament. But I deny that he is there truly present in bread, or that under the bread is his original body. And because it would be too tedious (he said) to make discourse of the whole, he delivered up there his opinion thereof to Dr. Weston, written at large, with answers to every one of their three propositions; which he desired Dr. Weston, sitting there on high, to read openly to the people; this he promised to do; but it is not the first promise that such papists have broken. But though the copy of this writing was not read by the prolocutor, we have drawn out the contents thereof, which are as follow:

Dr. CRANMER'S EXPLICATION of the foregoing CON|CLUSIONS, exhibited by him.

CRAN.

IN the assertions of the church and of reli|gion, trifling and new-fangled novelties of words, so much as may be, are to be eschewed, whereof ariseth nothing but contention and brawling about words; and we must follow, so much as we may, the manner of speaking of the scripture.

IN the first conclusion, if ye understand by this word [really] re ipsa▪ that is, in very deed and effec|tually; so Christ, by the grace and efficacy of his passion, is indeed and truly present to all true and holy members.

BUT if ye understand by this word [really] corpo|raliter, that is, corporally; so that by the body of Christ is understood a natural and organical sub|stance, the first proposition doth vary, not only from the usual phrase of scripture, but also is clean con|trary to the holy word of God, and christian pro|fession: since both the scripture doth testify by these words, and also the catholic church hath pro|fessed from the beginning, that Christ has left the world, and sits at the right hand of the Father till he come to judgment.

AND likewise I answer to the second question; that is; That it swerveth from the accustomed man|ner and speech of scripture.

THE third conclusion, as it is intricate and wrap|ped in all doubtful and ambiguous words, and dif|fering also much from the true speech of the scrip|ture, so as the words thereof seem to import no open sense, is most contumelious against our only Lord and Saviour Christ Jesus, and a violating of his precious blood, which, upon the altar of the cross, is the only sacrifice and oblation for the sins of all mankind.

CHED.

By this your interpretation which you have made upon the first conclusion, this I under|stand, the body of Christ to be in the sacrament only by way of participation: insomuch as we com|municating thereof, do participate the grace of Christ; so that you mean hereby only the effect thereof. But our conclusion standeth upon the sub|stance, and not the efficacy only, which shall appear by the testimony both of scripture, and of all the fathers a thousand years after Christ.

AND first to begin with the scripture, let us con|sider what is written in Matt. xxvi. Mark xiv. Luke xxii. and 1 Cor. xi. Matthew saith, As they sat at supper, Jesus took bread, &c. In Mark there is the same sense, although not the same words, who also for one part of the sacrament speaketh more plainly, Jesus taking bread, &c. After the same sense also writeth Luke: And when Jesus had taken bread, &c. In the mouth of two or three witnes|ses, saith the scripture, standeth all truth. Here we have three witnesses together, that Christ said, that to be his body which was given for many, and that to be his blood which should be shed for ma|ny; whereby is declared the substance, and not only the efficacy alone thereof. Ergo, It is not true that you say, there to be not the substance of his body, but the efficacy alone thereof.

CRAN.

Thus you gather upon mine answer, as though I did mean of the efficacy, and not of the substance of the body; but I mean of them both, as well of the efficacy as of the substance. And forasmuch as all things come not readily to memory, to a man that shall speak extempore, therefore for the more ample and fuller answer in this matter, this writing here I do exhibit.

Archbishop CRANMER's EXPLICATION delivered by him to the PROLOCUTOR in writing.

OUR Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, at the time of his Maunday, preparing himself to die for our cause, that he might redeem us from eternal death, to forgive us all our sins, and to can|cel out the hand-writing that was against us; that we through ungrateful oblivion should not forget his death, therefore, at the time of his holy sup|per did institute a perpetual memory of this his death, to be celebrated among christians in bread and wine, according as it is said, "Do this in re|membrance of me. And so often as ye eat this bread and drink this cup, you shall shew forth the Lord's death till he come." And this remembrance or sacrament of his holy passion, that is of his body slain, and blood shed, he would all christians to fre|quent

and celebrate in bread and wine, according as he said, "Take, eat, and drink ye all of this." Therefore whosoever for man's tradition denieth the cup of Christ's blood to laymen, they manifestly militate against Christ, forbidding that which Christ commandeth to be done, and are like those scribes and pharisees of whom the Lord spake; "Ye hypo|crites, ye have rejected the commandments of God for your traditions. Well did Esaias prophesy of you, saying, This people honoureth me with their lips, but their heart is far from me. Without cause do they worship me, teaching the doctrines and pre|cepts of men." The sacrament and mystical bread being broken and distributed after the institution of Christ, and the mystical wine being likewise taken and received, are not only sacraments of the flesh of Christ wounded for us, and of his blood-shed|ding, but also most certain sacraments for us, and (as a man would say) seals of God's promises and gifts, and also of that holy fellowship which we have with Christ and all his members. Moreover they are to us memorials of that heavenly food and nourishment, wherewith we are nourished unto eter|nal life, and the thirst of our burning conscience quenched, and finally, whereby the hearts of the faithful are replenished with unspeakable joy, and corroborated and strengthened unto all works of godliness. "We many are (saith St. Paul) one bread, and one body, all we which do participate of one bread, and one cup." And Christ saith, "Eat ye, this is my body." And, "Drink ye, this is my blood." And, "I am the living bread which came down from heaven. He that eateth me, shall also live for ever. Not as your fathers did eat man|na in the desart, and are dead: he that eateth me, shall also live for ever."

THUS therefore true bread and true wine remain still in the eucharist, until they be consumed of the faithful, to be signs, and as seals unto us annexed unto God's promises, making us certain of God's gifts towards us. Also Christ remaineth in them, and they in Christ, which eat his flesh, and drink his blood, as Christ himself hath promised: "They that eat my flesh, and drink my blood, abide in me, and I in them." Moreover, he abideth also in them which worthily receive the outward sacrament, nei|ther doth he depart so soon as the sacrament is con|sumed, but continually abideth, feeding and nour|ishing us so long as we remain bodies of that head, and members of the same. I acknowledge not here the natural body of Christ, which is only spiritual, unintelligible, and insensible, having no distinction of members and parts in it: but that body only I acknowledge and worship, which was born of the virgin, which suffered for us, which is visible, pal|pable, and hath all the form, and shape, and parts of the true natural body of man. Christ spake not these words of any uncertain substance, but of the certain substance of bread, which he then held in his hands, and shewed his disciples when he said, "Eat ye, this is my body:" and likewise of the cup, when he said, "Drink ye, this is my blood:" meaning verily of that bread which by nature is usual and common with us, which is taken out of the fruit of the ground, compacted by the unity of many grains together, made by man, and by man's hand brought to that visible shape, being of round compass, and without all sense or life, which nour|isheth the body, and strengtheneth the heart of man: of this same bread (I say) and not of any uncertain and wandering substance, the old fathers say that Christ spake these words, "Eat ye, this is my bo|dy." And likewise also of the wine, which is the creature and fruit of the vine pressed out of many clusters of grapes, and maketh man's heart merry, of the very same wine (I say) Christ spake, "Drink ye, this is my blood." And so the old doctors do call this speaking of Christ, tropical, figurative, ana|gogical, allegorical, which they do interpret after this sort, that although the substance of bread and wine do remain, and be received of the faithful, yet notwithstanding Christ changed the appellation there|of, and called the bread by the name of his flesh, and the wine by the name of his blood, not that it is so in very deed, but signified in a mystery. So that we should consider, not what they are in their own nature, but what they import to us and signify, and should understand the sacrament not carnally, but spiritually, and should attend not to the visible nature of the sacraments, neither have respect only to the outward bread and cup, thinking to see there with our eyes no other things 〈◊〉〈◊〉 only bread and wine; but that lifting up our minds we should look up to the blood of Christ with our faith, should touch him with our mind, and receive him with our inward man, and that being like eagles in this life, we should fly up into heaven in our hearts,

where that Lamb is resident at the right hand of his Father, which taketh away the sins of the world, by whose stripes we are made whole, by whose passion we are filled at his table, and whose blood we are receiving out of his holy side, do live for ever, being made the guests of Christ, having him dwel|ling in us through the grace of his true nature, and through the virtue and efficacy of his whole passion, being no less assured and certified, that we are fed spiritually unto eternal life by Christ's flesh crucified, and by his bloodshed, the true food of our minds, than that our bodies are fed with meat and drink in this life: and hereof this said mysti|cal bread on the table of Christ, and the mystical wine, being administered and received after the institution of Christ, are to us a memorial, a pledge, a token, a sacrament, and a seal.

AND therefore it is that Christ saith not thus: This is my body, eat ye: but after he had bidden them eat, then he said, This is my body, which shall be given for you. Which is to be understood as though he had said, In eating of this bread, consider you that this bread is no common thing, but a mystical matter; neither do you attend to that which is set before your bodily eyes, but what feedeth you within: consider and behold my body crucified for you, that eat and digest in your minds, chew you upon my passion, be fed with my death, this is the true meat, this is the drink that moisteneth, where|with you being truly fed, and replenished, shall live for ever. The bread and wine when set before your eyes are only declarations of me, but I myself am the eternal food. Wherefore whensoever at this my table you shall behold the sacraments, have not regard so much to them, as consider ye what I promise to you by them, which is myself to be meat for you of eternal life.

THE only oblation of Christ (wherewith he offer|ed himself to God the Father once to death, upon the altar of the cross, for our redemption) was of such efficacy, that there is no more need of any sa|crifice for the redemption of the whole world, but all the sacrifices of the old law he took away, per|forming that in very deed, which they did signify and promise. Whosoever therefore shall fix the hope of his salvation in any other sacrifice, he falleth from the grace of Christ, and is contumelious a|gainst the blood of Christ. For "He was wound|ed for our transgressions, and was broken for our iniquities. All we like sheep have wandered astray. Every man hath turned after his own way, and the Lord hath laid all our iniquities upon him. For he hath entered once for all into the holy place by the blood, not of goats or calves, but by his own blood, finding eternal redemption: And hath en|tered into heaven, to appear now in the sight of God for us, not to offer himself often-times (for so should he have suffered many times), but now hath he appeared once to put away sin, through his own oblation. And as it is appointed to all men once to die, so also Christ once was offered: who offering up one oblation for sins, sitteth now for ever on the right hand of God. For by one oblation hath he made perfect for ever those that are sanctified. For where is remission of sins, there is now no oblation for sin," but this only sacrifice of Christ; whoso|ever shall seek any other sacrifice propitiatory for sin, maketh the sacrifice of Christ of no validity, force, or efficacy. For if it be sufficient to remit sins, what need is there of any other? For the ne|cessity of another argueth and declareth this to be insufficient. Almighty God grant that we may truly lean to the one sacrifice of Christ, and that we to him again may repay our sacrifices of thanksgiv|ings, of praise, of confessing his name, of true amendment, of repentance, or mercifulness towards our neighbours, and of all other good works of charity. For by such sacrifices we shall declare our|selves neither ungrateful to God, nor altogether unworthy of his holy sacrifice of Christ. And thus you have out of the testimonies of holy scripture, and of the ancient doctors of the church, the true and sincere use of the Lord's holy supper, and the fruit of the true sacrifice of Christ. Which whoso|ever through captious or wrested interpretations, or by men's traditions, shall go about, otherwise than Christ ordained them, to alter or transubstantiate, he shall answer to Christ in the latter day, when he shall understand (but then too late) that he hath no participation with the body and blood of Christ, but that out of the supper of eternal life he hath eaten and drunken eternal damnation to himself.

WEST.

Because we will not consume and spend the time in waste, this your writing which you exhibit, hereafter shall be read in this place.

In the mean season let us now fall to the argu|ments.

CHED.

The scriptures in many places do affirm, that Christ gave his natural body, Matth xxvi. Mark xiv. Luke xxii.

ERGO, I do conclude that the natural body is in the sacrament.

CRAN.

TO your argument I answer: If you un|derstand by the body natural [organicum], that is, having such proportion and members as he had living here, then I answer negatively.

FURTHERMORE, concerning the evangelists, this I say and grant, that Christ took bread, and called it his body.

CHED.

The text of scripture maketh against you, for the circumstances thereunto annexed doth teach us, not only there to be the body, but also teacheth us what manner of body it is, and saith, The same body which shall be given.

THAT thing is here contained, that is given for us.

BUT the substance of bread is not given for us.

ERGO, The substance of bread is not here contained.

CRAN.

I understand not yet what you mean by this word [contained]. If you mean really, then I deny your major.

CHED.

The major is the text of scripture. He that denieth the major, denieth the scripture. For the scripture saith, This is my body which is given for you.

CRAN.

I grant he said it was his body which should be given, but he said it was not his body which is here contained; but the body (saith he) that shall be given for you. As though he should say, This bread is the breaking of my body, and this cup is the shedding of my blood. What will 〈◊〉〈◊〉 say the••? 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the bread the breaking of his body, and the cup the shedding of his blood really? If you say so, I deny it.

CHED.

If you ask what is the thing therein contained; because his apostles should not doubt what body it was that should be given, he saith, This is my body which shall be given for you, and my blood which shall be shed for many. ERGO, Here is the same substance of the body, which the day after was given, and the same blood which was shed. And here I urge the scripture, which teacheth that it was no phantastical, no feigned, no spiritual body, nor body in faith, but the substance of the body.

CRAN.

You must prove that it is contained, but Christ said not which is contained. He gave bread, and called that his body. I stick not in the words of scripture, but in your word, which is feigned and imagined by yourself.

CHED.

When Christ took bread and brake it, what gave he?

CRAN.

He gave bread; the bread sacrament|ally, and his body spiritually; and the bread there he called his body,

CHED.

This answer is against the scripture, which saith, that he gave his body.

CRAN.

It did signify that which he did eat.

CHED.

They did not eat the body as the Ca|pernaites did understand it, but the self-same body which was given for the sins of the world. Ergo, It was his body which should be given, and his blood which should be shed.

IN some other copies (says Mr. Fox) I Find this argument to be made by Chedsey.

THE same body is in the sacrament, which was given for us on the cross.

BUT bread was not given for us on the cross.

ERGO (therefore) bread is not given in the sacra|ment.

CRAN.

I deny the major, which is, that the same natural body is given in the sacrament, which was given on the cross, except you under|stand it spiritually. And after he denied also the argument as utterly void, as he might well do, the major in the second figure being not universal.

WHEN Mr. Chedsey had put forth his argument, and prosecuted the same, and Dr. Cranmer answered as before is shewed, Dr. Oglethorpe, one of those doctors which the prolocutor called Censores (who sat as arbiters to order the disputation) said on this wise.

D. OGLE.

You come in still with one evasion or starting hole to flee to. He urgeth the scrip|tures, saying that Christ gave his very body. You say, that he gave his body in bread. Quomodo praedicatur corpus? qualis est corpus? qualis est prae|dicatio? panis est corpus.

CRAN.

You should say, Quale corpus. I an|swer to the question: it is the same body which was born of the virgin, was crucified, ascended; but tropically, and by a figure. And so I say, Panis est corpus, is a figurative speech, speaking sacramentally, for it is a sacrament of his body.

OGLE.

This word [body] being praedicatum, doth signify substance.

BUT substantia is not predicated denominatively.

ERGO, It is an essential predication, and so it is his true body, and not the figure of his body.

CRAN.

Substania may be predicated denomina|tively in an allegory, or in a metaphor, or in a figurative locution.

OGLE.

It is not a likely thing that Christ hath less care for his spouse the church, than a wise housholder hath for his family in making his will or testament.

CRAN.

Your reason is drawn out of affairs of men, and not taken out of the holy scriptures.

OGLE,

But no housholder maketh his testament after that sort,

CRAN.

Yes, there are many that so do. For what matter is it so it be understood and perceived? I say, Christ did use figurative speech in no place more than in his sacraments, and specially in this of his supper.

OGLE.

No man of purpose doth use tropes in his testament, for if he do, he deceiveth them that he comprehendeth in his testament: therefore Christ useth none here.

CRAN.

YES, he may use them well enough. You know not what tropes are.

OGLE.

The good man of the house hath respect that his heirs, after his departure, may live in quiet and without wrangling.

BUT they cannot be in quiet if he do use tropes.

THEREFORE (I say) he useth no tropes.

CRAN.

I deny your minor.

WEST.

Augustine, in his book intitled. De U|nitate Ecclesiae, chap. x. hath these words following:

"WHAT a thing is this, I pray you, when the last words of one lying upon his death-bed are heard who is ready to go to his grave, no man saith that he hath made a lye, and he is not accounted his heir which regardeth not those words. How shall we then escape God's wrath, if either not believing, or not regarding, we shall reject the last words both of the only Son of God, and also of our Lord and Saviour, both ascending into heaven, and be|holding from thence, who despiseth, who observeth them not, and so shall come from thence to judge all men."

The argument is thus formed.

WHOSOEVER saith that the testator lyeth, is a wicked heir.

BUT whosoever saith that Christ spake by figures, saith that he did lye.

ERGO, Whosoever saith that Christ here spake by figures, is a wicked heir.

CRAN.

I deny the minor. As who say it is ne|cessary, that he which useth to speak by tropes and figures should lye in so doing.

OGLE.

Your judgment is disagreeing with all ••hurches.

CRAN.

Nay, I disagree with the papistical church.

OGLE.

This you do through the ignorance of logic.

CRAN.

Nay, this you say through the ignorance of the doctors.

WESTON.

I will go plainly to work by scriptures. What took he?

CRAN.

Bread.

WEST.

What gave he?

CRAN.

Bread.

WEST.

What brake he?

CRAN.

Bread.

WEST.

What did he eat?

CRAN.

Bread.

WEST.

He gave bread, therefore he gave not his body.

He gave not his body, therefore it is not his body verily, and in deed, and in truth.

CRAN.

I deny the argument.

COLE.

This argument holdeth, a disparatis. It is bread: Ergo, It is not the body. And it is such an argument or reason, as cannot be dissolved.

CRAN.

The like argument may be made: He is a rock: Ergo, He is not Christ.

COLE.

It is not alike.

WEST.

He gave not his body indeed: Ergo, It was not his body indeed.

CRAN.

He gave his death, his passion, and the sacrament of his passion. And in very deed, settting the figure aside, formally it is not his body.

WEST.

Why, then, the scripture is false.

CRAN.

Nay, the scripture is most true.

WEST.

This saith Chrysostom, Homil. 61, ad pop. Antioch. "Needful it is, dear friends, to tell you what the miracle of the mysteries is, and where|fore it is given, and what profit there is of the thing. We are one body, and members of his flesh and of his bones. We that be in the mystery, let us follow the thing which was spoken. Wherefore that we may become this thing, not only by love, but also that we may become one with that flesh indeed, that is brought to pass by this food, which he gave unto us, minding to shew his great good will that he hath towards us: and therefore he mixed himself with us, and united his own body with us, that we should be made all as one thing together, as a body joined and annexed to the head, for this is a token of most ardent and perfect love. And the same thing Job also insinuating, said of his servants, of whom he was desired above measure, insomuch that they, shewing their great desire to|wards him, said, Who shall give unto us to be filled with his flesh. Therefore also Christ did the same, who, to induce us into a greater love towards him, and to declare his desire towards us, did not only give himself to be seen of them, but also to be han|dled, and eaten. Parents many times give their children to others to be fed; but I do not so, saith Christ, but feed you with my own flesh, and set myself before you. I am become your brother; I took flesh and blood for you. Again, my flesh and blood, by the which I am made your kinsman, I deliver unto you.

OUT of which words of St. Chrysostom I make▪ said Weston, this argument.

(1) THE same flesh whereby Christ is made our brother and kinsman, is given of Christ to us to be eaten.

(2) CHRIST is made our brother and kinsman, by his true, natural, and organical flesh.

(3) THEREFORE, this true, natural, and organi|cal flesh is given to us to be eaten.

CRAN.

I grant the consequence and the conse|quent.

WEST.

THEREFORE we eat it with our mouth.

CRAN.

I deny it, we eat it through faith.

WEST.

HE gave us the same flesh to eat, where|by he became our brother and kinsman.

BUT he became our brother and kinsman, by his true, natural, and organical flesh

THEREFORE, he gave his true, natural, and orga|nical flesh to be eaten.

CRAN.

I grant he took and gave the same true, natural, and original flesh wherein he suffered, and yet he feedeth us spiritually, and that flesh is receiv|ed spiritually.

WEST.

He gave us the same flesh which he took of the virgin.

BUT he took not the true flesh of the virgin spi|ritually, or in a figure.

THEREFORE, he gave his true natural flesh, not spiritually.

CRAN.

Christ gave to us his own natural flesh, the same wherein he suffered, but feedeth us spiri|tually.

WEST.

Chrysostom is against you, who saith, "Let it come into thy remembrance with what honour thou art honoured, at what table thou fit|test at: for with the same thing we are nourished, which the angels do behold and tremble at: neither are they able to behold it without great fear, for the brightness which cometh thereof: and we are brought and compact into one heap or mass with him, being together one body of Christ, and one flesh with him. Who shall speak the powers of the Lord, and shall declare forth all his praises? What pastor hath ever nourished his sheep with his own members? Many mothers have put forth their in|fants after their birth to other nurses: which he would not do, but feedeth us with his own body, and conjoineth and uniteth us to himself."

Whereupon I gather this argument.

LIKE as mothers nurse their children with milk, so Christ nourisheth us with his body.

BUT mothers do not nourish their infants spiri|tually with their milk:

THEREFORE, Christ doth not nourish those that be his spiritually with his blood.

CRAN.

He gave us the wine for his blood.

WEST.

If he gave the wine for his blood, as you say, then he gave less than mothers do give.

BUT Chrysostom affirmeth, that he gave more than mothers give.

THEREFORE he gave not the wine for his blood.

CRAN.

You prevent mine answer. He gave wine, yet the blood is considered therein. As for example: when he giveth baptism, we consider not the water, but the Holy Ghost, and remission of sins. We receive with the mouth of the sacrament; but the thing and the matter of the sacrament we receive by faith.

WEST.

When Christ said, Eat ye, whether meant he by the mouth or by faith?

CRAN.

He meant that we should receive the body by faith, the bread by the mouth.

WEST.

Nay, the body by the mouth.

CRAN.

That I deny.

WEST.

I prove it out of Chrysostom, writing upon the 50th psalm.

"SHE that is a mother, shameth sometime to play the nurse. But Christ our nurse doth not so play with us. Therefore instead of meat he feedeth us with his own flesh, and instead of drink he feedeth

us with his own blood." Likewise upon the xxvi. chap. of Matthew, the ••3d Homily, he saith, "For it shall not be enough for him to become man, and in the mean time to be whipped; but he doth bring us into one mass or lump with himself (as I may so call it), and maketh us his body, not by faith alone, but also in very deed."

CRAN.

I grant we make one nature with Christ. But that to be done with the mouth I deny.

WEST.

Chrysostom, 2 Cor. chap. xiii. Hom. 29. hath these words, "No little honour is given to our mouth, receiving the body of the Lord."

CRAN.

This I say, that Christ entereth into us both by our ears and our eyes. With our mouth we receive the body of Christ, and tear it with our teeth, that is to say, the sacrament of the body of Christ. Wherefore I say and affirm, that the virtue of the sacrament is much: and therefore Chrysostom many times speaketh of sacraments no otherwise, than of Christ himself, as I could prove if I might have liberty to speak, by many places of Chrysos|tom, where he speaketh of the sacrament of the body of Christ.

WITH which word of the sacrament of the body, &c. Dr. Cole being highly offended, denied it to be the sacrament of the body of Christ, save only of the mystical body which is the church.

CRAN.

And why should we doubt to call it the sacrament of the body of Christ, offered upon the cross, seeing both Christ and the ancient fathers do so call it?

COLE.

How gather you that of Chrysostom?

CRAN.

Chrysostom declareth himself, "O mi|racle, O the good will of God towards us, which sitteth above at the right hand of the Father, and is holden in men's hands at the time of sacrifice, and is given to feed upon, to them that are desirous of him! And that is brought to pass by no subtility or craft, but with the open and beholding eyes of all the standers-by."

THUS you hear Christ is seen here on earth every day, is touched, is torn with the teeth, that our tongue is red with his blood; which no man hav|ing any judgment will say or think to be spoken without trope or figure.

WEST.

What miracle is it if it be not his body, and if he speak only of the sacrament, as though it were his body?

BUT hearken what Chrysostom saith, "I shew forth that thing on earth unto thee, which is wor|thy the greatest honour. For like as in the palace of kings, neither the walls, nor the sumptuous bed, but the body of kings sitting under the cloth of estate, and royal seat of majesty, is of all things else the most excellent: so is in like manner the King's body in heaven, which is now set before us on earth. I shew thee neither angels nor arch|angels, nor the heaven of heavens, but the very Lord and Master of all these things. Thou per|ceivest after what sort thou dost not only behold, but touchest, and not only touchest, but eatest that which on the earth is the greatest and chiefest thing of all other, and when thou hast received the same, thou goest home; wherefore cleanse thy soul from all uncleanness."

UPON this I conclude, that the body of Christ is shewed us upon the earth.

CRAN.

What? upon the earth? He is seen here with the eyes of our mind only, with faith and spirit.

WEST.

What is it that seemeth worthy of the highest honour on earth? The sacrament, or the body of Christ?

CRAN.

Chrysostom speaketh of the sacrament, and the body of Christ is shewed forth in the sacra|ment.

WEST.

Therefore, the sacrament is worthy greatest honour.

CRAN.

I deny your argument.

WEST.

That thing is shewed forth, and is now on the earth, which is worthy highest honour.

BUT only the body of Christ is worthy highest honour.

THEREFORE, the body of Christ is now on earth.

CRAN.

I answer, The body of Christ is on the earth, in the sacrament, only so as the Holy Ghost is in the water of baptism.

WEST.

Chrysostom saith, Ostendo, "I shew forth," which noteth a substance to be present.

CRAN.

That is to be understood sacramentally.

WEST.

He saith, Ostendo in terra, "I shew forth on earth," declaring the place where.

CRAN.

That is to be understood figuratively.

WEST.

He is shewed forth, and is now on the earth, &c. as before.

CRAN.

Your major and conclusion are one and the same.

WEST.

But the major is true: Ergo, the con|clusion is also true.

THAT thing is on the earth, which is worthy of highest honour.

BUT no figure is worthy of highest honour.

THEREFORE, that which is on earth is no figure.

HERE Weston called upon Dr. Cranmer, to an|swer one part bidding him to repeat his words; which when he went about to do, such was the noise and uproar in the divinity school, that his mild voice could not be heard. For when he went about to declare to the people how the prolocutor did not we•••• English the words of Chrysostom, using for ost••••••itur in terra, "he is shewed forth on the earth," 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in terra, "he is on the earth," whereas Chrysostom hath not est, nor any such word of being on the earth, but only of shewing, as the grace of the Holy Ghost, in baptisme ostenditur, "is shewed forth in baptism▪" and oftentimes he did inculcate this word ostenditur. Th•••• the pro|locutor stretching forth his hand, set on the rude people to cry out at him, filling all the school with hissing, clapping of hands, and noise, calling him unlearned, unskilful and impudent. Which impu|dent and reproachful words this reverend ••••an most patiently and meekly did abide, as one that had been inured with the sufferings of such like re|proaches. And when the prolocutor, not yet satis|fied with rude and unseeming demeanour, did urge and call upon him to answer the argument, then he desired the notary to repeat his words again.

NOTARY.

That which is worthy most high ho|nour, here I shew forth to thee on earth.

THE body of Christ is worthy highest honour.

ERGO, He shewed forth the body of Christ here on earth.

CRAN.

That is shewed forth here on earth which may be seen, which may be touched, and which may be eaten; but these things be not true of the body.

COLE.

Why should not these things be true of the body of Christ?

CRAN.

The major out of Chrysostom is true, meaning in the sacraments: for, in the sacrament, the true body of Christ, and not the figurative body, is set forth.

WEST.

Shew me somewhat on earth worthy greatest honour.

CRAN.

I cannot but in the sacrament only.

WEST.

Therefore, the sacrament is worthy greatest honour.

CRAN.

So it is.

WEST.

Judges let it be written.

CRAN.

I pray you, let my answer be written likewise: I affirm that the body of Christ is shewed forth unto us. It is our faith that seeth Christ.

WEST.

Ostendo tibi, "I shew to thee," saith Chrysostom, not to thy faith.

CRAN.

He speaketh sacramentally.

WEST.

Therefore, Chrysostom lyeth: for he saith, "I Chrysostom do shew;" but he can shew nothing sacramentally.

CHED.

By force of argument we are brought to this point, that the body of Christ is proved to be on earth, not only sacramentally, but in very deed also, by this reason, that it is worthy of highest ho|nour. The reason is indissoluble.

CRAN.

I never heard a more vain argument, and it is most vain; also it hath my answer unto it.

CHED.

Will you affirm, that it is absurd which Chrysostom saith, that the body of Christ is touch|ed?

I touch the body of Christ in the sacrament, as Thomas touched Christ.

THOMAS touched Christ, saying, "My Lord and my God!

THEREFORE, that which he touched was the Lord, the God.

[THIS argument, as I received it out of the nota|ry's book (says Mr. Fox,) is not formal, seeing it should conclude in the third figure thus:

AS Thomas touched the body of Christ, so we touch it in the sacrament.

THOMAS touched the body of Christ corporally:

THEREFORE, we touch the body of Christ corpo|rally in the sacrament.]

CRAN.

I deny your argument. He touched not God, but him who was God. Neither is it ••ound doctrine to affirm, that God is touched.

CHED.

This is because of the union; so that God is said to be touched, when Christ, who is both God and Man, is touched.

TERTULLIAN, speaking of the resurrection of the body, saith, "Let us consider as concerning the proper form of the Christian man, what great pre|rogative this vain and foul substance of our's hath with God. Although it were sufficient to it, that no soul could ever get salvation, unless it believe while it is in the flesh: so much the flesh availeth to salvation; by the which flesh it cometh, that whereas the soul so is linked unto God, it is the said flesh that causeth the soul to be linked: yet the flesh moreover is washed, that the soul may be cleansed; the flesh is anointed, that the soul may be consecrated; the flesh is signed, that the soul may be defended; the flesh is shadowed by the im|position of hands, that the soul may be illuminated with the Spirit; the flesh doth eat the body and blood of Christ, that the soul may be fed of God." Whereupon I gather this argument.

THE flesh eateth the body of Christ.

ERGO, The body of Christ is eaten with the mouth.

PHOCEUS also, 1 Cor. chapter xi. upon these words, "Is guilty of the body and blood," decla|reth, "That like as Judas betrayed him, and the Jews were fierce and spiteful against him; so do they dishonour him, who receive his holy body with their impure hands, and as the Jews did hold him then, do now receive him with impure mouths. And whereas he often maketh mention of the body and blood of the Lord, he declareth, that it is not simply man that is sacrificed, but even the Lord himself, being the maker of all things, hereby (as it were) making them afraid."

THEREFORE, the body of Christ is touched with the hands.

CRAN.

You vouch two authors against me up|on sundry things. First, I must answer Tertullian, and then the other.

CHED.

They tend both to one meaning.

CRAN.

Unto Tertullian I answer, (because our disputation is wandering and uncertain) that he cal|leth that the flesh which is the sacrament. For al|though God works all things in us invisibly beyond men's reach, yet they are so manifest, that they

may be seen, and perceived of every sense. There|fore he setteth forth baptism, unction, and last of all the supper of the Lord unto us, which he gave to signify his operation in us. The flesh liveth by the bread, but the soul is inwardly fed by Christ.

WEST.

Stick to those words of Tertullian, "The body eateth, that the soul may be fed.

CHED.

The flesh eateth the body of Christ, that the soul may be fed therewith.

WEST.

Here you see two kinds of food, of the soul and of the body.

CHED.

He saith, that not only the soul, but the flesh also is fed.

CRAN.

The soul is fed with the body of Christ, the body with the sacrament.

CHED.

Is the soul fed with the body of Christ, and not with the sacrament?

CRAN.

Read that which followeth, and you shall perceive, that by things external, an operation internal is understood. Inwardly we eat Christ's body, and outwardly we eat the sacrament. So one thing is done outwardly, another inwardly. Like as in baptism the external element, where the body is washed, is one; the internal thing, where|by the soul is cleansed, is another.

CHED.

The soul is fed by that which the body eateth.

BUT the soul is fed by the flesh of Christ.

ERGO, The body eateth the flesh of Christ.

CRAN.

We eat not one thing outwardly and inwardly. Inwardly we eat Christ's body: out|wardly we eat the sacrament.

CHED.

I will repeat the argument.

THE flesh eateth Christ's body, that the soul may be fed therewith.

THE soul is not fed with the sacrament, but with Christ's body.

ERGO, The flesh eateth the body of Christ.

CRAN.

The sacrament is one thing, the matter of the sacrament is another. Outwardly we receive the sacrament; inwardly we eat the body of Christ.

YONG.

This disputation is taken in hand, that the truth might appear. I perceive that I must go another way to work than I had thought. It is a common saying, against those who deny principles, we must not dispute; therefore, that we may agree of the principles, I demand, whether there be any other body of Christ, than his instrumental body?

CRAN.

There is no natural body of Christ, but his organical body.

YONG.

Again, I demand, whether sense and reason ought to give place to faith?

CRAN.

They ought.

YONG.

Thirdly, whether Christ be true in all his words?

CRAN.

Yes, he is truth itself.

YONG.

Fourthly, whether Christ, at his supper, minded to do that which he spake, or no?

CRAN.

In saying he spake, but in saying he made not, but made the sacrament to his disciples.

YONG.

Answer according to the truth, whether did Christ that as God and man which he spake, when he said, "This is my body?"

CRAN.

This is sophistical cavilling. There is some deceit in these questions.

YONG.

I demand, whether Christ by these words wrought any thing, or no?

CRAN.

He did institute the sacrament.

YONG.

But answer, whether he did work any thing?

CRAN.

He did work in instituting the sacra|ment.

YONG.

Now I have you; for before you said, it was a figurative speech.

BUT a figure worketh nothing.

THEREFORE, it is not a figurative speech. A lyar ought to have a good memory.

CRAN.

I understood your sophistry before. You by working understand converting into the body of Christ: but Christ wrought the sacrament, not in converting, but in instituting.

YONG.

Woe be to them, who made Christ a deceiver. Did he work any other thing than he spake, or the self-same thing?

CRAN.

He wrought the sacrament, and by these words he signified the effect.

YONG.

A figurative speech is no working thing.

BUT the speech of Christ is working.

THEREFORE, it is not figurative.

CRAN.

It worketh by instituting, not by con|verting.

YONG.

The thing signified in the sacrament, is it not that sacrament?

CRAN.

It is. For the thing is ministered in a sign. He followeth the letter that taketh the thing for a sign. Augustine separateth the sacrament from the thing. The sacrament (saith he) is one, and the thing of the sacrament another.

WEST.

Stick to this argument.

IT is a figurative speech.

ERGO, It worketh nothing.

YONG.

But the speech of Christ is a working thing.

ERGO, It is not figurative.

CRAN.

Oh how many crafts are in this argu|ment! they are mere fallacies; I said not, that the words of Christ do work, but Christ himself; and he worketh by a figurative speech.

WEST.

If a figure work, it maketh of bread the body of Christ.

CRAN.

A figurative speech worketh not.

WEST.

A figurative speech by your own con|fession, worketh nothing.

BUT the speech of Christ in the supper (as you grant) wrought somewhat.

ERGO, The speech of Christ in the supper was not figurative.

CRAN.

I answer, These are mere sophisms. The speech doth not work, but Christ by the speech doth work the sacrament.

I look for scriptures at your hands, for they are the foundation of disputations.

YONG.

Are not these words of scripture, This is my body? The word of Christ is of strength; and by the Lord's words the heavens were made. He said, This is my body: Ergo, He made it.

CRAN.

He made the sacrament, and I deny your argument.

YONG.

If he wrought nothing, nothing is left there. He said, This is my body. You say, con|trary to the scriptures, it is not the body of Christ, and fall from the faith.

CRAN.

You interpret the scriptures contrary to all the old writers, and feign a strange sense.

YONG.

Ambrose saith, "Thou hast read of the works of all the world; that he spake the word, and they were made; he commanded and they were created. Cannot the word of Christ, which made of nothing that which was not, change those things that are, into that they were not? For it is no less matter to give new things, than to change natures. But why use we arguments? Let us use

his own examples, and let us confirm the truth of the mystery by example of his incarnation. Did the use of nature go before, when the Lord Jesus was born of Mary? If you seek the order of nature, conception is wont to be made by a woman joined to a man. It is manifest therefore, that, contrary to the order of nature, a virgin did conceive: and this body that we make, is of the virgin. Why seekest thou here the order of nature in the body of Christ, when against the order of nature the Lord Jesus was conceived of a virgin? It was the true flesh of Chirst which was crucified, and which was buried: Therefore it was truly the sacrament of him. The Lord Jesus himself crieth, This is my body. Before the blessing of the heavenly words, it is named another kind: but after the consecra|tion, the body of Christ is signified. He calleth it his blood. Before consecration it is called another thing: after consecration it is called blood; and thou sayest, Amen; that is, It is true. What the mouth speaketh, let the inward mind confess: what the word soundeth, let the heart perceive."

THE same Ambrose, in his fourth book of sacra|ments, the fourth chapter, saith thus: "This bread is bread before the words of the sacrament; when the consecration cometh to it, of bread it is made the flesh of Christ. Let us confirm this there|fore; How can that which is bread, by consecra|tion be the body of Christ? By what words then is the consecration made, and by whose words? By the words of our Lord Jesus. For touching all other things that are said, praise is given to God, prayer is made for the people, for kings, and for the rest: when it cometh that the reverend sacra|ment must be made, then the priest useth not his own words, but the words of Christ: therefore the word of Christ maketh this sacrament. What word? that word by which all things were made. Dost thou not see then how strong in working the word of Christ is?" Ambrose saith, that the words are of strength to work.

WEST.

You omit those words following, which make the sense of Ambrose plain. Read them.

YONG.

"Heaven was not, the sea was not, the earth was not, but hea•• him that said: He spake the word, and they were made; he commanded, and they were created. Therefore to answer thee, it was not the body of Christ before consecration, but after the consecration; I say to thee, that now it is the body of Christ."

CRAN.

All these things are common. I say, that God doth chiefly work in sacraments.

YONG.

How doth he work?

CRAN.

Nay his power, as in baptism.

YONG.

Nay, by the word he changeth the bread into his body. This is the truth, acknow|ledge the truth, give place to the truth.

CRAN.

O glorious words! You are full of words.

YONG.

Nay, O glorious truth! You make no change at all.

CRAN.

But I make a great change; as in those who are baptized, is there not a great change, when the bond slave of the devil is made the son of God? So it is also in the sacrament of the supper, when he receiveth us into his protection and favour.

YONG.

If he work in the sacraments, he work|eth in this sacrament.

CRAN.

God worketh in his faithful, not in the sacraments.

WEST.

In the supper, the word•• are directed to the bread; in baptism to the Spirit. He said not. The water is the Spirit; but of the bread he said, "This is my body."

CRAN.

He calleth the Spirit a dove, when the Spirit descended in the likeness of a dove.

WEST.

He doth not call the Spirit a dove; but he saith, that he descendeth as a dove. He was seen in the likeness of a dove. As in baptism the words are directed to him who is baptized, so in the supper, the words are directed unto the bread.

CRAN.

Nay, it is written, "Upon whomsoe|ver

thou shalt see the Spirit descending." He cal|leth that which descendeth the Holy Spirit. And Augustine calleth the dove the Spirit. Hear what Augustine saith in 1 John "What meant he by the dove, that is, by the Holy Ghost? forsooth to teach who sent him."

YONG.

He understandeth of the Spirit descend|ing as a dove: the Spirit is invisible. If you mind to have the truth heard, let us proceed. Hear what Ambrose saith: "You see what a working power the word of Christ hath. Therefore if there be so great power in the Lord's word, that those things which were not, begin to be, how much more of strength is it, to work, that those things that were, should be changed into another thing?"

AND in the fifth chapter he saith, "Before it is consecrated, it is bread: but when the words of Christ come to it, it is the body of Christ."

BUT hear what he saith more; "Take ye, eat ye, this is my body. Before the words of Christ, the cup is full of wine and water; when the words of Christ have wrought, there is made the blood of Christ which redeemed the people," What can be more plain?

CRAN.

What can be less to the purpose? The words are of strength to work in this sacrament, as they are in baptism.

PYE.

The words (as Ambrose saith) are of strength to work. What do they work? Ambrose saith, they make the blood which redeemed the people.

THEREFORE, the natural blood is made.

CRAN.

The sacrament of his blood is made. The words make the blood to them who receive it: not that the blood is in the cup, but in the receiver.

PYE.

There is made the blood which redeemed the people.

CRAN.

The blood is made, that is, the sacra|ment of the blood, by which he redeemed the peo|ple: [Fit,] "It is made," that is to say, [••••••enditur.] "It is shewed forth there:" and Ambrose saith, we receive in a similitude. "As thou hast receiv|ed the similitude of his death, so also thou drinkest the similitude of his precious blood."

WEST.

He saith in a similitude, because it is ministered under another likeness. This is the ar|gument.

(1) THERE is made blood which redeemed the people.

(2) BUT the natural blood redeemeth the people.

(3) THEREFORE, there is the natural blood of Christ.

YOU answer, that words make it blood to them that receive it; not that blood is in the cup, but because it is made blood to them that receive it. That all men may see how falsely you would avoid the fathers, hear what Ambrose saith in the sixth book and first chapter.

"PERADVENTURE thou wilt say, how be they true? I which see the similitude, do not see the truth of the blood. First of all I told thee of the word of Christ, which so worketh, that it can change and turn kinds ordained by nature. After|wards, when the disciples could not abide the words of Christ, but hearing that he gave his flesh to eat, and his blood to drink, they departed. Only Peter said, Thou hast the words of eternal life, whither should I go from thee? Lest therefore more should say this thing, as though there should be a certain horror of blood, and yet the grace of redemption should remain; therefore in a similitude thou re|ceivest the sacrament, but indeed thou obtainest the grace and power of his nature."

CRAN.

These words of themselves are plain e|nough. (And he read this place again,) "Thou receivest the sacrament for a similitude." But what is that he saith, Thou receivest for a similitude? I think he understandeth the sacrament to be the si|militude of his blood.

CHED.

That you may understand that truth dissenteth not from truth, to overthrow that which

you say of that similitude; hear what Ambrose saith:

"IF the heavenly word did work in other things, doth it not work in the heavenly sacraments? Therefore thou hast learned, that of bread is made the body of Christ, and that the wine and water is put into that cup, but by consecration of the hea|venly word it is made blood. But thou wilt say peradventure, that the likeness of blood is not seen. But it hath a similitude. For as thou hast received the similitude of his death, so also thou drinkest the similitude of his precious blood, so that there is no horror of blood, and yet it worketh the price of redemption. Therefore thou hast learned, that that which thou receivest is the body of Christ."

CRAN.

He speaketh of sacraments, sacrament|ally. He calleth the sacraments by the names of the things; for he useth the signs of the things sig|nified: and therefore the bread is not called bread, but his body; for the excellency and dignity of the thing signified by it. Ambrose speaketh the same sense, when he saith, "For a type or figure whereof we receive the mystical cup of his blood, for the safeguard of our souls and bodies."

CHED.

A type! He calleth not the blood of Christ a type or sign; but the blood of bulls and goats, in that respect, was a tpye.

CRAN.

This is new learning: you never read this among the fathers.

CHED.

But Ambrose saith so.

CRAN.

He calleth the bread and the cup a type or sign of the blood of Christ, and of his benefit.

WEST.

Ambrose understandeth it for a type of his benefit, that is, of redemption, not of the blood of Christ, but of his passion.

CRAN.

He saith expressly that the cup is a type of Christ's blood.

WEST.

You have corrupted Justine, Emisse|nus, and Duns, by false translations: (the contrary of which Cranmer fairly proved, and also, you have set forth a catechism in the name of the synod of London, and yet there are fifty to witness, that though they were of the number of the convocation, yet they never heard one word of this catechism.

CRAN.

I was ignorant of the setting to of that title; and as soon as I had knowledge thereof, I did not like it; therefore I complained to the council, and was answered by them, that the book was so intitled, because it was set forth in the time of the convocation.

WEST.

Moreover, you have in Duns translated In Romana ecclesia, pro ecclesia catholica: "In the church of Rome," for, "The catholic church."

CRAN.

Yes, but he meant the Romish church.

WEST.

Moreover you have depraved St. Tho|mas, namely, where he hath these words: "In quantum vero est sacrif••cium, habet vim satisfactivam: Sed in satisfactione attenditur magis affectio ••fferentis, quam quantitas oblationis. Unde Dominus dicit apud Lucam de vidua quae obtulit duo aera, quod pius omnibus misit. Quamvis ergo haec oblatio ex sui quantitate suffi|cie•• ad satisfaciendum pro omni p••ena: tamen sui satis|factoria illis pro quibus offertur, vel etiam offerentibus, secundum quantitatem suae devotionis, & non pro tota p••ena." That is, "Inasm••ch as it is a sacrifice, it hath the power of satisfaction: But in satisfacti|on the affection of the offerer is more to be consi|dered than the quantity of the oblation. Wherefore the Lord said in Luke's gospel, of the widow which offered two mites, that she cast in more than they all. Therefore altho' this oblation of the quantity of itself will suffice to satisfy for all pain, yet it is made satisfactory to them, for whom it is offered, or to the offerers, according to the quantity of their devotion, and not for all the pain."

YOU have turned it, "Quod sacrificium sacerdotis habet vim satisfactivam," &c. That is, "That the sacrifice of the priest hath power of satisfaction," &c. And therefore in this place you have chopped in this word [sacerdotis] of the priest, whereas in the translation of all the New Testament you have not set it, but where Christ was put to death. And again, where St. Thomas hath [pro omni p••ena] for all pain, your book omitteth many things there.

THUS you see, brethren, the truth stedfast and invincible; you see also the craft and deceit of heretics; the truth may be pressed, but it cannot be oppressed; therefore cry altogether, Vincit veritas, "The truth overcometh."

THIS disorderly disputation, sometimes in En|glish, at others in Latin, continued almost till two o'clock. Which being finished, and the arguments written, and delivered into the hands of Mr. Say▪ the prisoner, Dr. Cranmer, was had away by the mayor, and the doctors dined sumptuously together, at the university college.

A SECOND DISPUTATION at OXFORD, between Dr. RIDLEY, BISHOP of LONDON, Dr. SMITH, and others.

THE next day, being April 12th, Dr. Ridley was brought forth to dispute; against whom Dr. Smith was appointed principal opponent. It may be proper to observe of Dr. Smith, that he had often changed his sentiments; but not from a principle of conscience, or real conviction, as will appear from his articles by him recanted, and like|wise by his own letter, sent a little before, in Ed|ward's reign, to Dr. Cranmer, then archbishop of Canterbury, from Scotland: which letter is placed here as a preface before his arguments, as a testimo|ny against him, whereby our readers may under|stand how devoutly he magnified those very men, against whom he now disputeth so busily. Read his epistle, and judge.

The true Copy of Dr. RICHARD SMITH'S LETTER, declaring his A••••••••tion to the setting forth of GOD'S SINCERE WORD.

"MOST honourable, I commend me unto your lordship, doing the same to understand that I wrote letters to your grace in January last, and the 10th day of February, declaring the causes of my sudden and unadvised departing from your grace over sea; and desiring your lordship of your charity towards them that repent of their ill acts, to forgive me yourself all the wrong I did towards 〈◊〉〈◊〉 grace, and to obtain in writing the king's 〈…〉〈…〉 pardon for me in all points concerning his laws: upon the receipt whereof I would return again home, and within half a year (at the utter|most) afterwards write De Sacerdotum Connubiis, &c. a Latin book that should be a just satisfaction for any thing that I have written against the same. Reliquaq: omnia dogmata vestra tum demum libent••r amplexurum, ubi Deus mentem meam, ut ea citra con|scientia ••esionem agnoscam, doceamque. I wrote not this that I want any good living here, but because mine absence out of the realm, and because I must needs (if I tarry here a quarter of a year longer) write an answer to your grace's book of the sacra|ment, and also a book of common places, against all the doctrine set forth by the king's majesty, which I cannot do with a good conscience. Where|fore I beseech your grace help me home, as soon as you may conveniently, for God's sake, and you shall never, I trust in God, repent that fact.

Ex urbe div•• Andre••. Feb. 14.

R. SMITHEUS."

BESIDES this Dr. Smith, who was appointed to answer Dr. Ridley, in the divinity school, there dis|puted with him Dr. Weston, Dr. Tresham, Dr. Ogle|thorp, Dr. Glin, Dr. Seaton, Dr. Cole, Dr. Watson, Mr. Ward, Mr. Harpsfield, Mr. Pye, Mr. Har|ding, Mr. Curton, and Mr. Fecknam: to all of whom Dr. Ridley answered very learnedly. He began with a preface to the questions, but they would not let him proceed with the same. Some said it was blasphemy▪ and others, that he pro|longed the time in ambiguous matters. In the course of the debate, Dr. Smith could gain no ad|vantage over him; even others were obliged to take up and prosecute his arguments. In short, Dr. Ridley shewed himself in every respect a learn|ed divine, and his opponents could bring nothing that he did not know as well as they.

The SPEECH of Dr. WESTON, PRO••OCUTOR, at the Commencement of the DISPUTATION.

Good Christian People and Brethren!

WE have begun this day our school, by God's good speed I trust, and are entering into a controversy, whereof no question ought to be

moved concerning the verity of the body of our Lord Jesus Christ in the eucharist. Christ is true, which said the words. The words are true which he spake, yea, truth itself that cannot fail. Let us therefore pray unto God to send down unto us his Holy Spirit which is the true interpreter of his word; which may purge away errors, and give light that verity may appear. Let us also ask leave and liberty of the church to permit the truth receiv|ed to be called this day in question, without any pre|judice to the same. Your parts thereof shall be to implore the assistance of Almighty God, to pray for the prosperity of the queen's majesty, and to give us quiet and attentive ears. Now go to your question.

DR. SMITH. This day (right learned Mr. Doctor) three questions are propounded, whereof no controversy among christians ought to be moved, to wit:

1. WHETHER the natural body of Christ our Saviour, conceived of the virgin Mary, and offer|ed for man's redemption upon the cross, is verily and really in the sacrament by virtue of God's word spoken by the priests, &c.

2. WHETHER in the sacrament, after the words of consecration, there be any other substance, &c.

3. WHETHER in the mass be a sacrifice propitia|tory, &c.

TOUCHING which questions, although you have publicly declared your judgment on Saturday last; yet I will again demand your answer on the first question; upon which I stand here now to hear what may be answered.

Dr. RID••••Y'S INTRODUCTORY DECLARATION, or PROTES••ATION, previous to the DISPUTATION.

I Received of you the other day, right worshipful Mr. Prolocutor, and you my reverend masters, commissioners from the queen's majesty and her honourable council, three propositions; whereunto ye commanded me to prepare against this day, what I thought good to answer concerning the same.

NOW whilst I weighed with myself how great a charge of the Lord's flock was of late committed unto me, for which I am certain I must once render an account to my Lord God, (and how soon he only knoweth) and that moreover, by the commandment of the apostle Peter, I ought to be ready always to give a reason of the hope that is in me, with meek|ness and reverence, unto every one that shall demand the same: besides this, considering my duty to the church of Christ, and to your worships, being com|missioners by public authority; I determined with myself to obey your commandment, and so openly to declare unto you my mind touching the aforesaid propositions. And albeit, plainly to confess unto you the truth in these things which ye now demand of me, I have thought otherwise in time past than now I do, yet (God I call to record upon my soul, I lye not) I have not altered my judgment, as now it is, either by constraint of any man, or laws, either for the dread of any dangers of this world, either for any hope of commodity; but only for the love of the truth revealed unto me by the grace of God (as I am undoubtedly persuaded) in his holy word, and in the reading of the ancient fathers.

THESE things I do rather recite at this present, because it may happen to some of you hereafter, as in times past it hath done to me: I mean, if ye think otherwise of the matters propounded in these propositions than I now do, God may open them unto you in time to come.

BUT howsoever it shall be, I will in a few words do that which I think ye all look I should do; that is, as plainly as I can, I will declare my judgment herein▪ Howbeit, of this I would ye were not ig|norant, that I will not indeed wittingly and willingly speak in any point against God's word, or dissent in any one jot from the same, or from the rules of faith, or christian religion: which rules that same most sacred word of God prescribeth to the church of Christ, whereunto I now and for ever submit my|self and all my doings. And because the matter I have now taken in hand is weighty, and ye all well know how unready I am to handle it accord|ingly, as well for lack of time, as also lack of books; therefore here I protest, that I will publicly this day require of you, that it may be lawful for me concerning all mine answers, explications, and confirmations, to add or diminish whatsoever shall

seem hereafter more convenient and meet for the purpose, through more sound judgment, better de|liberation, and more exact trial of every particular thing. Having now, by the way of preface and protestation, spoken these few words, I will come to the answer of the propositions, propounded unto me, and so to the most brief explication and confir|mation of my answers.

WEST.

Reverend Mr. Doctor, concerning the lack of books, there is no cause why you should complain. What books soever you will name, you shall have them: and as concerning the judgment of your answers to be had of yourself with farther deliberation; it shall (I say) be lawful for you un|til Sunday next, to add un••o them what you shall think good yourself. My mind is, that we should use short arguments, lest we should make an infi|nite process.

RID.

There is another thing besides, which I would gladly obtain of your hands. I perceive that you have writers and notaries here present. By all likelihood our disputations shall be published; I beseech you for God's sake, let me have liberty to speak my mind freely, and without interruption, not because I have determined to protract the time with a solemn preface, but lest it may appear that some be not satisfied. God knows I am no orator, nor have I learned rhetoric to set colours on the matter.

WEST.

Among this whole company, it shall be permitted you to take two notaries for your part.

RID.

I will chuse two, if there be any here with whom I am acquainted.

WEST.

Here are two which Mr. Cranmer had yesterday. Take them if you please.

RID.

I am content with them; I trust they are honest men.

The FIRST PROPOSITION.

IN the sacrament of the altar, by the virtue of God's word spoken of the priest, the natural body of Christ born of the virgin Mary, and his natural blood, is really present under the forms of bread and wine.

Bishop RIDLEY'S Answer.

IN ••atters appertaining to God, we may not speak according to the sense of man, nor of the world: therefore this proposition or conclusion is framed after another manner of phrase, or kind of speech, than the scripture useth. Again, it is very obscure and dark, by means of sundry words of doubtful signification. And being taken in the sense which the schoolmen teach, and at this time the church of Rome doth defend, it is false and er|roneous, and plainly contrary to the doctrine which is according to godliness.

The EXPLICATION.

HOW far the diversity and newness of the phrase in all this first proposition is from the phrase of the holy scripture, and that in every part almost, it is so plain and evident to any one who is but meanly exercised in holy writ, that I need not now (especi|ally in this company of learned men) spend any time therein, except the same shall be required of me hereafter.

FIRST, There is a double sense in these words, "By virtue of God's word," for it is doubtful what word of God this is, whether it be that which is read in the evangelists, or in Paul, or any other. And if it be that which is in the evangelists, or ••n St. Paul, what that is. If it be in none of the••, then how it may be known to be God's word, and of such virtue that it should be able to work so gr••••t a matter.

AGAIN, there is a doubt of these words▪ "of the priest▪" whether no man may be called a priest, but he which hath authority to make a propitiatory sa|crifice for the quick and the dead▪ and how it may be proved that this authority was committed of God to any man, but to Christ alone.

IT is likewise doubted, after what order the sacri|ficing priest shall be, whether after the order of Aaron, or else after the order of Melch••sedek.

For as far as I know, the holy scripture doth allow no more.

WEST.

Let this be sufficient.

RID.

If we lack time at this present, there is time enough hereafter.

WEST.

These are but evasions, or starting holes; you consume the time in vain.

RID.

I cannot start far from you, I am captive and bound.

SMITH.

That which you have spoken may suf|fice at this present.

RID.

Let me alone, I pray you, for I have not much to say behind.

WEST.

Proceed.

RID.

Moreover, there is ambiguity in this word [really,] whether it be taken as the logicians term it "transcendenter," that is, most generally, and so it may signify any manner of thing which belongeth ••o the body of Christ, by any means; after which sort we also grant Christ's body to be really in the sacrament of the Lord's supper, (as in disputation, if occasion be given, shall be declared) or whether it be taken to signify the very same thing, having body, life, and soul, which was assumed and taken of the word of God, into the unity of person. In which sense, seeing the body of Christ is really in heaven, because of the true manner of his body, it may not be said to be here on the earth. There is yet a further doubtfulness in these words, [under the forms of bread and wine,] whether the forms be there taken to signify only the accidental and out|ward shews of bread and wine; or therewithal the substantial natures thereof, which are to be seen by their qualities, and perceived by the exterior senses.

NOW the error and falseness of the proposition, after the sense of the Roman church and schoolmen, may hereby appear, in that they affirm the bread to be transubstantiated and changed to the flesh assum|ed of the word of God, and that (as they say) by virtue of the word, which they have devised by a certain number of word••, and cannot be found in any of the evangelists, or in St. Paul, and so they gather that Christ's body is really contained in the sacrament of the altar. Which position is grounded upon the foundation of the transubstantiation; which foundation is monstrous, against reason, and destroy|eth the analogy or proportion of the sacraments: and therefore this proposition also, which is built upon this rotten foundation, is false, erroneous, and to be counted as a detestable heresy of the sa|cramentaries.

WEST.

We lose time.

RID.

You shall have time enough.

WEST.

To reasoning. You shall have some other day for this matter.

RID.

I have no more to say concerning my ex|plication. If you will give me leave and let me alone, I will but speak a word or two for my con|firmation.

WEST.

Say on.

The CONFIRMATION of the aforesaid ANSWER.

THERE ought no doctrine to be established in the church of God, which dissenteth from the word of God, from the rule of faith, and draweth with it many absurdities that cannot be avoided.

BUT this doctrine of the first proposition is such.

THEREFORE, it ought not to be established and maintained in the church of God.

THE major, or first part of my argument, i•• plain; and the minor, or second part, is proved thus:

THE doctrine maintaineth a real, corporal, and carnal presence of Christ's flesh assumed and taken of the word, in the sacrament of the Lord's supper, and that not by virtue and grace only, but also by the whole essence and substance of the body and flesh of Christ.

BUT such a presence disagreeth from God's word, from the rule of faith, and cannot but draw with it many absurdities.

THEREFORE, the second part is true.

THE first part of this argument is manifest, and the second may yet farther be confirmed thus.

WEST.

You consume time, which might be better bestowed on other matters. Opponent, I pray you, to your arguments.

SMITH.

I will here reason with you upon tran|substantiation, which you say is contrary to the rule and analogy of faith. The contrary whereof I prove by the scriptures and the doctors. But before I enter argumentation with you, I demand first, whe|ther in the sixth chapter of John, there be any men|tion made of the sacrament, or of the real presence of Christ in the sacrament?

RID.

It is against reason that I should be hin|dered to prosecute that which I have to speak in this assembly, being not so long, but that it may be comprehended in few words.

WEST.

Let him read on.

RID.

First of all this presence is contrary to many places of holy scripture.

SECONDLY, It varieth from the articles of the faith.

THIRDLY, It destroyeth and taketh away the in|stitution of the Lord's supper.

FOURTHLY, It maketh precious things common to profane and ungodly persons; for it casteth that which is holy unto dogs, and pearls unto swine.

FIFTHLY, It forceth men to maintain many monstrous miracles without necessity and authority of God's word.

SIXTHLY, It giveth occasion to the heretics, who erred concerning the two natures of Christ, to defend their heresies thereby.

SEVENTHLY, It falsifieth the sayings of the god|ly fathers; it falsifieth also the catholic faith of the church, which the apostles taught, the martyrs confirmed, and the faithful (as one of the fathers saith) do retain and keep until this day. Where|fore the second part of my argument is true.

The PROBATION of the Antecedent, or former Part of this ARGUMENT, by the Parts thereof.

THIS carnal presence is contrary to the word of God, as appeareth, John xvi. "I tell you the truth. It is profitable to you that I go away, for if I go not away, the comforter shall not come un|to you." Acts iii. "Whom the heavens must receive until the time of restoring all things which God hath spoken." Matt. ix. "The children of the bridegroom cannot mourn so long as the bride|groom is with them: but now is the time of mourning." John xvi. "But I will see you again, and your hearts shall rejoice." John xiv. "I will come again and take you to myself." Matt. xxiv. "If they shall say unto you, Behold here is Christ, or there is Christ, believe them not: for whereso|ever the dead carcase is, thither the eagles will resort."

IT varieth from the articles of the faith; he ascended into heaven, and sitteth at the right hand of God the Father, from whence (and not from any other place, saith St. Augustine) he shall come to judge both the quick and the dead.

IT destroyeth and taketh away the institution of the Lord's supper, which was commanded only to be used and continued until the Lord himself should come. If therefore he be really present in the body of his flesh, then must the supper cease: for a re|membrance is not of a thing present, but a thing past and absent. And there is a difference between remembrance and presence, and (as one of the fathers saith) a figure is in vain where the figured is present.

IT maketh precious things common to profane and ungodly persons, and constraineth men to con|fess many absurdities. For it affirmeth, that whore|mongers and murd••••••rs▪ yea, and (as some of them hold opinion) the wicked and faithless, mi••e, rats, and dogs, also may receive the very real and corpo|ral

body of the Lord, wherein the fulness of the Spirit of light and grace dwelleth; contrary to the manifest words of Christ in six places and sentences of the sixth chapter of St. John.

IT confirmeth also and maintaineth that beastly kind of cruelty of the anthropophagi, that is, the devourers of man's flesh: for it is a more cruel thing to devour a quick man, than to slay him.

PYE.

He requireth time to speak blasphemies. Leave your blasphemies.

RID.

I little thought to have had such reproach|ful words at your hands.

WEST.

All is quiet. Go to your arguments, Mr. Doctor.

RID.

I have not many things more to say.

WEST.

You utter blasphemies with a most impudent face; leave off, I say, and get you to the argument.

RID.

It forceth men to maintain many mon|strous miracles, without any necessity and authority of God's word. For at the coming of this presence of the body and flesh of Christ, they thrust away the substance of bread, and affirm that the acci|dents remain without any subject, and instead thereof they place Christ's body without his quali|ties and the true manner of a body. And if the sacrament be reserved so long until it mould, and worms breed, some say that the substance of bread miraculously returneth again, and some deny it. Others affirm, the real body of Christ goeth down into the stomach of the receivers, and doth there abide so long only as they shall continue to be good.

BUT now (my brethren) think not, because I disallow that presence which the first proposition maintaineth (as a presence which I take to be forg|ed, fantastical, and besides the authority of God's word, perniciously brought into the church by the Romanists) that I therfore go about to take away the true presence of Christ's body in his supper rightly and duly ministered, which is grounded upon the word of God, and made more plain by the commentaries of the faithful fathers. They that think so of me, the Lord knoweth how far they are deceived. And to make the same evident unto you, I will in few words declare what true presence of Christ's body in the sacrament of the Lord's supper I hold and affirm, with the word of God and the ancient fathers.

I say and confess with the evangelist Luke, and with the apostle P••••l, that the bread, on which thanks are given, is the body of Christ in the re|membrance of him and his death, to be set forth perpetually of the faithful until his coming.

I say and confess the bread which we break to be the communion and partaking of Christ's body, with the ancient and faithful fathers.

I say and believe that there is not only a signifi|cation of Christ's body set forth by the sacrament, but also that therewith is given to the godly and faithful the grace of Christ's body, that i••, the food of life and immortality. And this I hold with Cyprian.

I say also with St. Augustine, that we 〈◊〉〈◊〉 life and we drink life: with Emisene, that we feel the Lord to be present in grace: with Athanasius, that we receive celestial food, which cometh from above: the propriety of natural communion, with Hilarius: the nature of flesh and benediction which giveth life in bread and wine, with Cyril; and with the same Cyril, the virtue of the very flesh of Christ, life and grace of his body, the property of the only begotten, that is to say, life, as he himself in plain words expoundeth it.

I confess also with Basil, that we receive the mys|tical advent and coming of Christ, grace and virtue of his very nature; the sacrament of his very flesh, with Ambrose; the body by grace, with Epipha|nius; spiritual flesh, but not that which was cruci|fied, with Hieron; grace flowing into a sacrifice, and the grace of the Spirit, with Chrysostom; grace and invisible verity, grace and society of the mem|bers of Christ's body, with Augustine.

FINALLY, with Bertram (which was the last of all these) I confess, that Christ's body is in the sa|crament

in this respect; namely, (as he writeth) because there is in it the Spirit of Christ, that is, the power of the word of God, which not only feedeth the soul, but also cleanseth it. But of these I sup|pose it may clearly appear unto all men, how far we are from that opinion, whereof some go about false|ly to slander us to the world, saying, we teach that the godly and faithful should receive nothing else.

The SECOND PROPOSITION.

AFTER the consecration there remaineth no sub|stance of bread and wine, neither any other sub|stance, than the substance of God and man.

The ANSWER.

THE second conclusion is manifestly false, direct|ly against the word of God, the nature of the sacra|ment, and the most evident testimonies of the godly fathers; and it is the rotten foundation of the other two conclusions propounded by you, both of the first, and also of the third. I will not therefore now tarry upon any further explication of this answer, being contented with that which is already added before to the answer of the first proposition.

The FIRST ARGUMENT for the CONFIRMATION of this ANSWER.

IT is very plain by the word of God, that Christ did give bread unto his disciples, and called it his body.

BUT the substance of bread is another manner of substance, than is the substance of Christ's body, God and man.

THEREFORE the conclusion is false.

THE second part of my argument is plain, and the first is proved thus:

The SECOND ARGUMENT.

THAT which Christ did take, on the which he gave thanks, and the which he brake, he gave to his disciples, and called it his body.

BUT he took bread, gave thanks on bread, and brake bread.

ERGO, The first part is true. And it is confirm|ed with the authority of the fathers, Irene, Tertul|lian, Origen, Cyprian, Epiphanius, Jerome, Au|gustine, Theodoret, Cyril, Rabanu••, and Bede. Whose places I will take upon me to shew most manifest in this behalf, if I may be suffered to have my books, as my request is.

BREAD is the body of Christ.

ERGO, It is bread.

The THIRD ARGUMENT.

AS the bread of the Lord's table is Christ's natural body, so is his mystical body.

BUT it is not Christ's mystical body by transub|stantiation.

ERGO, It is not his natural body by transubstanti|ation.

THE second part of my argument is plain, and the first is proved thus: As Christ who is the verity, spake of the bread, "This is my body which shall be betrayed for you," speaking there of his natural body: even so Paul, moved with the same Spirit of truth, said, "We though we be many, yet are we all one bread, and one body, which be partakers of one bread."

The FOURTH ARGUMENT.

WE may believe bread no more to be transub|stantiate into the body of Christ, than the wine into his blood.

BUT the wine is not transubstantiate into his blood.

ERGO, Neither is that bread therefore transub|stantiate into his body.

THE first part of this argument is manifest, and the second part is proved out of the authority of God's word in Matthew and Mark, "I will not drink of the fruit of the vine," &c. Now the fruit of the vine was wine, which Christ drank and gave to his disciples to drink. With this sentence

agreeth plainly the place of Chrysostom on the xx. chapter of Matthew. As Cyprian doth also, affirm|ing that there is no blood, if wine be not in the cup.

The FIFTH ARGUMENT.

THE words of Christ spoken upon the cup, and upon the bread, have the like effect and working.

BUT the words spoken upon the cup, have not virtue to transubstantiate.

THEREFORE, it followeth, that the words spoken upon the bread have no such virtue.

The SIXTH ARGUMENT.

THE circumstances of the scripture, the analogy and proportion of the sacraments, and the testimony of the faithful fathers, ought to rule us in taking the meaning of the holy scripture touching the sacrament.

BUT the words of the Lord's supper, the cir|cumstances of the scripture, the analogy of the sacraments, and the sayings of the fathers, do most effectually and plainly prove a figurative speech in the words of the Lord's supper.

ERGO, A figurative sense and meaning is special|ly to be received in these words, "This is my body."

THE circumstances of the scripture are, "Do this in remembrance of me. As oft as ye shall eat of this bread, and drink of this cup, ye shall shew forth the Lord's death. Let a man prove himself, and so eat of this bread, and drink of this cup. They came together to break bread; and they continued in breaking of bread. The bread which we break, &c. For we being many, are all one bread and one body," &c.

THE analogy of the sacraments is necessary: for if the sacraments had not some similitude, or like••ness of the things whereof they be sacraments, they could in no wise be sacraments. And this simili|tude in the sacrament of the Lord's supper is taken three manner of ways.

1. THE first consisteth in nourishing, as ye shall read in Rabana, Cyprian, Augustine, Irene, and most plainly in Isidore out of Bertram.

2. THE second in uniting and joining of many into one, as Cyprian teacheth.

3. THE third is a similitude of unlike things; where, like as the bread is turned into one body, so we, by the right use of this sacrament, are turned through faith into the body of Christ.

THE sayings of the fathers declare it to be a figu|rative speech, as it appeareth in Origen, Tertullian, Chrysostom in an unfinished work, Augustine, Am|brose, Basil, Gregory, Nazianzen, Hilary, and most plainly of all in Bertram. Moreover, the sayings and places of all the fathers, whose names I have before recited against the assertion of the first pro|position, do quite overthrow transubstantiation. But of all most evidently and plainly, Irene, Origen, Cyprian, Chrysostom to Cesarius the monk, Au|gustine against Adamatus, Gelasius, Cyril, Epipha|nius, Chrysostom again on the xx. Matthew, Ra|bana, Damascene, and Bertram.

HERE, right worshipful Mr. Prolocutor, and ye the rest of the commissioners, it may please you to understand, that I do not lean to these things only, which I have written in my former answers and con|firmations, but that I have also, for the proof of that I have spoken, whatsoever Bertram, a man learned, of sound and upright judgment, and ever counted a catholic for these seven hundred years until this our age, hath written. His treatise, whosoever shall read and weigh, considering the time of the writer, his learning, godliness of life, the allegations of the ancient fathers, and his manifold and most grounded arguments, I cannot (doubtless) but much marvel, if he have any fear of God at all, how he can with good conscience speak against him in this matter of the sacrament. This Bertram was the first that brought me from the common error of the Romish church, and caused me to search more diligently and exactly both the scriptures and the writings of the old ecclesiastical fathers in this matter. And this I protest before the face of God, who knoweth I lye not in the things I now speak.

The THIRD PROPOSITION.

IN the mass is the lively sacrifice of the church, propitiable and available for the sins as well of the quick as of the dead.

The ANSWER to this PROPOSITION.

I answer to this third proposition as I did to the first. And moreover I say, that being taken in such sense as the words seem to import, it is not only erroneous, but withal so much to the derogation and defacing of the death and passion of Christ, that I judge it may and ought most worthily to be counted wicked and blasphemous against the most precious blood of our Saviour Christ.

The EXPLICATION.

CONCERNING the Romish mass which is used at this day, or the lively sacrifice thereof, propitiato|ry and available for the sins of the quick and the dead, the holy scripture hath not so much as one syllable.

THERE is ambiguity also in the ••ame of [mass,] what it signifieth, and whether at this day there be any such indeed as the ancient fathers used; seeing that now there be neither Catechists nor Poeniten|tes to be sent away.

AGAIN, touching these words, [the lively sacri|fice of the church,] there is doubt whether they are to be understood figuratively and sacramentally, for the sacrament of the lively sacrifice (after which sort we deny it not to be in the Lord's supper) or pro|perly and without any figure; of the which man|ner there was but one only sacrifice, and that once offered, namely upon the altar of the cross.

MOREOVER, in these words, [as well as,] it may be doubted whether they be spoken in mockage; as men are wont to say in sport, of a foolish and ig|norant person, that he is apt as well in conditions as in knowledge; being apt indeed in neither of them both.

THERE is also a doubt in the word [propitiable,] whether it signify here that which taketh away sin, or that which may be made available for the taking away of sin, that is to say, whether it is to be taken in the active, or in the passive signification.

NOW the falseness of the proposition, after the meaning of the schoolmen and the Romish church, and impiety in that sense which the words seem to import, is this; that they leaning to the foundation of their fond transubstantiation, would make the quick and lively body of Christ's flesh, (united and knit to the divinity) to lie hid under the accidents and outward appearances of bread and wine; and they building upon this foundation, do hold, that the same body is offered unto God by, the priest, in his daily massings, to put away the sins of the quick and the dead; whereas, by the apostle to the He|brews, it is evident, that there is but one oblation, and one only true and lively sacrifice, of the church, offered upon the altar the cross, which was, is, and shall be for ever, the propitiation for the sins of the whole world▪ and where there is remission of the same, there is (saith the apostle) no more offer|ing for sin.

ARGUMENTS confirming his ANSWER.

(1) NO sacrifice ought to be done, but where the priest is meet to offer the same.

(2) ALL other priests are unmeet to offer propi|tiatory sacrifices, save only Christ.

(3) THEREFORE, no other priests ought to sacri|fice for sin, but Christ alone. See Heb. chap. v.

THE second part of my argument is thus proved.

(1) No honour in God's church ought to be ta|ken, where a man is not called, as Aaron was.

(2) It is a great honour in God's church to sa|crifice for sin.

(3) THEREFORE no other priest but Christ ought to sacrifice for sin, who only was called to that ho|nour.

THAT no man is called to this degree of honour, but Christ alone, is evident: for there are but two orders of priesthood allowed in the word of God;

namely, the order of Aaron, and that of Melchise|dek: but now the order of Aaron is come to an end, by reason that it was unprofitable; and of the order of Melchisedek there is but one priest alone, even Christ the Lord, who hath a priesthood that cannot pass to any other. See Heb. chap. vii.

FIRST ARGUMENT.

(1) THAT thing is in vain, and to no effect, where there is no necessity it should be done.

(2) TO offer up any more sacrifice propitiatory for the quick and the dead, there is no necessity; for Christ our Saviour did that fully and perfectly once for all.

(3) ERGO, To do the same in the mass, is in vain.

SECOND ARGUMENT.

(1) AFTER that eternal redemption is found and obtained, there needeth no more daily offering for the same.

(2) BUT Christ coming an high bishop, &c. found and obtained for us eternal redemption.

(3) ERGO, There needeth now no more daily oblation for the sins of the quick and the dead.

THIRD ARGUMENT.

(1) ALL remission of sins cometh only by shed|ding of blood.

(2) IN the mass there is no shedding of blood.

(3) ERGO, In the mass there is no remission of sins: and so it followeth also that there is no propi|tiatory sacrifice.

FOURTH ARGUMENT.

IN the mass, the passion of Christ is not in veri|ty, but in a mystery representing the same: yea, even there where the Lord's supper is duly minis|tered.

BUT where Christ suffereth not, there is he not offered in verity: for the apostle saith, "Not that he might offer up himself often times (for then must he have suffered often times since the beginning of the world:") now where Christ is not offered, there is no propitiatory sacrifice.

ERGO, In the mass there is no propitiatory sacri|fice: "For Christ appeared once in the latter end of the world, to put sin to flight by the offering up of himself. And as i•• appointed to all men that they shall once die, and then cometh the judgment; even so Christ was once offered, to take away the sins of many. And unto them that look for him shall he appear again without sin unto salvation." See Heb. chap. ix.

FIFTH ARGUMENT.

WHERE there is any sacrifice that can make the comers thereunto perfect, there ought men to cease from offering any more expitiatory and propitiatory sacrifices.

BUT in the New Testament there is one only sa|crifice now already long since offered, which is able to make the comers thereto perfect for ever.

ERGO, In the New Testament they ought to cease from offering any more propitiatory sacrifices.

SENTENCES of SCRIPTURE, ••ending to the same END and PURPOSE; from whence also may be gathered other manifest ARGUMENTS.

"BY the which will (saith the apostle) we are sanctified, by the offering up of the body of Jesus Christ once for all." And in the same place, "But this man, after that he had offered one sacrifice for sin, sitteth forever at the right hand of God, &c. For with one offering hath he made perfect for ever them that are sanctified, and by himself hath he purged our sins." I beseech you to mark these words, [by him,] the which, well weighed, will without doubt put an end to all controversy. See Heb. chap. x.

THE apostle plainly denieth any other sacrifice to remain for him that treadeth under his feet the blood of the testament, by the which he was made holy. Christ will not be crucified again, he will not his death to be had in derision. "He hath re|conciled

us in the body of his flesh." Mark, I be|seech you, he saith not, in the mystery of his body; but in the body of his flesh." See Coloss. chap. i.

"If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous, and he is the propitiation for the sins of the whole world," 1 John, chap. ii.

I know that all these places of the scripture are avoided by two manner of subtle evasions: the one is, by the distinction of the bloody and unbloody sacrifice; as though our unbloody sacrifice of the church were any other than the sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving; than a commemoration, a shew|ing forth, and a sacramental representation of that one only bloody sacrifice, offered up once for all.

THE other is, by depraving and wresting the sayings of the ancient fathers unto such a strange kind of sense, as the fathers themselves indeed ne|ver meant. For what the meaning of the fathers was, is evident by that which St. Augustine writeth in his epistle to Boniface, and in the 83d chapter of his ninth book against Faustus the Manichee, be|sides many other places; likewise by Eusebius, Emisene, Cyprian, Chrysostom, Fulgentius, Ber|tram, and others, who do wholly agree together in this unity in the Lord, that the redemption, once made in verity for the salvation of men, continueth in full effect for ever, and worketh without ceasing unto the end of the world; that the sacrifice once offered cannot be consumed; that the Lord's death and passion is as effectual, the virtue of that blood once shed, as fresh at this day for the washing away of sins, as it was even the same day that it flowed out of the blessed side of our Saviour: and finally, that the whole substance of our sacrifice, which is frequented of the church in the Lord's supper, con|sisteth in prayers, praise, and giving of thanks, and in remembering and shewing forth of that sacrifice once offered upon the altar of the cross: that the same might continually be had in reverence by mys|tery, which once only, and no more, was offered for the price of our redemption.

THESE are things (right worshipful Mr. Prolocu|tor, and ye the rest of the commissioners) which I could presently prepare, to the answering of your three propositions, being destitute of all help in this shortness of time, sudden warning, and want of books. Wherefore I appeal to my first protesta|tion, most humbly desiring the help of the same (as much as may be) to be granted unto me. And because ye have lately given most unjust and cruel sentence against me, I do here appeal (so far forth as I may) to a more indifferent and just censure and judgment of some other superior competent, and lawful judge, and that accor••••••g to the approved state of the church of England. Howbeit, I con|fess, that I am ignorant what that is at this present, through the trouble and alteration of the state of the realm. But if this appeal may not be granted to me upon earth, then do I ••••y (even as to my only refuge and alone haven of health) 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the sentence of the eternal judge, that is, of the Almighty God, to whose most merciful justice towards us, and most just mercifulness, I do wholly commit myself and my cause, nothing at all despairing of the defence of mine advocate and alone Saviour Jesus Christ, to whom, with the everlasting Father, and the Holy Spirit, the sanctifier of us all, be now and for ever all honour and glory. Amen.

WE shall now proceed to the

ARGUMENTS and ANSWERS between DR. SMITH, and BISHOP RIDLEY.

DR. SMITH.

You have occasioned me to go otherwise to work with you, than I had thought to have done. Methinks, in your supposition, you did abuse the testimonies of scripture concern|ing the ascension of Christ, to take away his pre|sence in the sacrament, as though this were a strong argument in your favour.

CHRIST did ascend into heaven.

ERGO, He is not in the sacrament.

NOW therefore I will go about to disprove this reason of your's.

CHRIST'S ascension is no bar to his real presence in the sacrament.

ERGO, You are deceived, whereas you do ground yourself upon those places.

RID.

You import as though I had made a strong argument by Christ's going up into heaven. But howsoever mine argument is made, you collect it not rightly. For it doth not only stay upon his ascension, but upon his abiding there also.

SMITH.

Christ's going 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to heaven, and his abiding there, hinder not his real presence in the sacrament.

ERGO, You are deceived.

RID.

Of Christ's real presence there may be a double understanding: if you take the real presence of Christ according to the real and corporeal sub|stance which he took of the virgin, that presence being in heaven, cannot be on the earth also. But if you mean a real presence, according to some thing that appertaineth to Christ's body, certainly the ascension and abiding in heaven hinder not at all that presence. Wherefore Christ's body after that manner is here present to us in the Lord's supper; by grace I say, as Epiphanius speaketh it.

WEST.

I will cut off from henceforth all equi|vocation and doubt. For whensoever we speak of Christ's body, we mean that which he took of the virgin.

RID.

Christ's ascension and abiding in heaven cannot stand with his presence.

SMITH.

Christ appeared corporally and really on the earth, for all his ascension and continual abode in heaven unto the day of doom.

ERGO, His ascension and abiding in heaven, are no bar to his real presence in the sacrament.

RID.

Mr. Doctor, this argument is nothing worth. I do not straightly tie Christ up in heaven, that he may not come into the earth at his pleasure. For when he will, he may come down from heaven, and be on the earth, as i•• liketh himself. How|beit, I do affirm, That it is not possible for him to be both in heaven and earth at one time.

SMITH.

Mark, I pray you, my masters that be here, diligently, what he answereth. First he saith, That the sitting of Christ at the right hand of his Father, is a bar to the real presence of his body in the sacrament, and then afterwards he flieth from it again.

RID.

I would not have you think that I do imagine or dream upon any such manner of sitting, as these men here sit in the school.

SMITH.

Ergo, It is lawful for Christ then to be here present on the earth, when he will himself.

RID.

Yea, when he will, it is lawful indeed.

SMITH.

Ergo, He ascending into heaven, doth not restrain his real presence in the sacrament.

RID.

I do not gainsay, but that it is lawful for him to appear on the earth when he will: but prove you that he will.

SMITH.

Then your answer dependeth upon the will of Christ, I perceive: therefore, I will join again with you in that short argument.

CHRIST, notwithstanding he doth always abide in heaven after his ascension, was seen really and cor|porally on earth.

ERGO, Notwithstanding his ascension and con|tinual sitting at the right hand of his Father, he may be really and corporally in the sacrament.

RID.

If the notaries should so record your ar|gument, as you have framed it, you peradventure would be ashamed of it hereafter.

SMITH.

Christ after his ascension was seen re|ally and corporally upon the earth.

ERGO, Notwithstanding his ascension and abid|ing with his Father, he may be corporally in the sacrament.

RID.

I grant the antecedent, but I deny the consequence.

SMITH.

Do you grant the antecedent?

RID.

Yes, I grant the antecedent. I am con|tent to let you have so much. Because I know that there be certain ancient fathers of that opinion. I am well content to let you use that proposition as true. And I will frame the argument for you.

HE was seen on earth after his ascension.—

SMITH.

Nay, nay, I will frame it myself.

CHRIST after his ascension was seen really and cor|porally on earth, albeit he do abide in heaven con|tinually.

ERGO, Notwithstanding his ascension and con|tinual abiding at the right hand of the Father, he may be really and corporally on the earth.

RID.

Let us first agree about the continual sit|ting at the right hand of the Father.

SMITH.

Doth he so sit at the right hand of his Father, that he doth never forsake the same?

RID.

Nay, I do not bind Christ in heaven so straightly. I see you go about to beguile me with your equivocations. Such equivocations are to be distinguished. If you mean by his sitting in heaven, to reign with his Father, he may be both in heaven and also on earth. But if you under|stand his sitting to be after a corporal manner of sitting, so is he always permanent in heaven. For Christ to be corporal here on earth, when corporally he is resident in heaven, is clean contrary to the holy scriptures, as Austine saith; "The body of Christ is in heaven, but his truth is dispersed in every place."

NOW, if continually he abide in heaven after the manner of his corporal presence, then his perpetual abiding there stoppeth or hindereth that the same corporal presence of him cannot be in the sacra|ment.

SMITH.

Acts iii. we read that Christ shall sit perpetually at the right hand of God, until the con|summation of the world.

WEST.

I perceive you are come here to this is|sue, whether the body of Christ may be together both on earth and in heaven. I will tell you, that Christ in very deed is both on earth and in heaven together, and at one time, both one and the same natural Christ, after the verity and substance of his very body: Ergo, &c.

RID.

I deny the antecedent.

WEST.

I prove it by two witnesses. First by Chrysostom: "Do we not offer every day? we do so indeed, but doing it for remembrance of his death. And this offering is one, and not many. And how is it one, and not many, which was offered in the holy place? This sacrifice is a pattern of that: the self same we always offer, not now as offering one lamb to-day, and another to-morrow, but always one and the same lamb. Wherefore here is but one sacrifice; for else by this means, seeing there be many sacrifices in many places, be there many Christs? Not so, but one Christ in all places, both perfect here, and perfect there, one only body." Now thus I argue.

WE offer one thing at all times.

THERE is one Christ in all places, both here com|plete and there complete.

ERGO, By Chrysostom there is one body both in heaven and earth.

RID.

I remember the place well. These things make nothing against me.

WEST.

One Christ is in all places, here full and there full.

RID.

One Christ is in all places; but not one body in all places.

WEST.

One body, saith Chrysostom.

RID.

BUT not after the manner of bodily sub|stance he is in all places, nor by circumscription of

place. For (hic 〈◊〉〈◊〉 illic,) "here and there," in Chrysostom, do assign no place, as Augustine saith; "The Lord is above, but the truth of the Lord is in all places."

WEST.

You cannot so escape. He saith not the verity of Christ is one; but one Christ is in all places, both here and there.

RID.

One sacrifice is in all places, becau•••• of the unity of him whom the sacrifice doth signify: not that the sacrifices be all one and the same.

WEST.

Ergo▪ By your saying it is not Christ, but the sacrifice of Christ.

BUT Chrysostom saith▪ "One body and one Christ is there, and not one sacrifice.

RID.

I say, that both Christ and the sacrifice of Christ is there: Christ by Spirit, grace, and veri|ty; the sacrifice by signification.

THUS much I grant with Chrysostom, that there is one host or sacrifice, and not many: and this our host is called one by reason of the unity of that one, which one only all our hosts do represent. That only host was never any other but that which was once offer|ed on the altar of the cross, of which all our hosts are but sacramental examples.

AND where you alledge out of Chrysostom, that Christ is offered in many places at once, both here full Christ, and there full Christ; I grant it to be true, that is, that Christ is offered in many places at once, in a mystery and sacramentally, and that he is full Christ in all those places, but not after the corporal substance of our flesh which he took, but after the benediction which giveth life; and he is given to the godly receivers in bread and wine, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Cyril speaketh, concerning the oblation of Christ, whereof Chrysostom here speaketh, he himself doth clearly shew what he meaneth thereby, in saying by the way of correction, "We always do the self same, howbeit by the recorda••ion or remembrance of his sacrifice.

WEST.

The second witness is Bernard, who saith, in a sermon on the supper of our Lord, "How cometh this to us, most gentle Jesus, that we silly worms creeping on the face of the earth, that we, I say, who are but dust and ashes, may deserve to have thee present in our hands, and be|fore our eyes, who both together, full and whole, dost ••it at the right hand of the Father, and who also in the moment of one hour, from the rising of the sun to the going down of the same, ••••t present one and the self-same in many and divers places▪"

RID.

These words of Bernard make for you nothing at all. But I know that Bernard was in such a time, that in this matter he may worthily be suspected. He hath many good and faithful say|ings; as also in the same place by you alledged. But yet he followed in such an age, as when the doc|trine of the holy supper was perverted. Notwith|standing I will so expound him, rather than reject him, that he shall make nothing for you. That we have Christ in a mystery, in a sacrament, under a veil or cover. In the mean time, here now he saith, That the verity of Christ is every-where. The verity of Christ is both here and there, and in all places.

WEST.

What do you call verity? He saith not the verity of Christ, but the verity of the body of Christ.

RID.

The verity of the body of Christ is the true faith of the body of Christ: after that verity he is with them which truly believe upon him.

WEST.

Christ is one and the ••ame in divers places. I urge these words, [in divers places,] and yet I am not satisfied.

SMITH.

Christ was seen really and corporally on the earth after his ascension, and continually sitting at the right hand of the Father.

ERGO, The ascension and perpetual sitting in heaven hinder nothing, but that he may be really and corporally in the sacrament.

RID.

If by perpetual sitting you mean the resi|dence of his body in heaven, your reason containeth manifest contradiction.

SMITH.

Th••se two have no contradiction in them at all, both to sit continually at his Father's

right hand, and also to be seen here really on earth after his ascension. First, You will allow, that Christ sitteth in heaven at the right hand of his Fa|ther. For so it is written, Acts v. "Heaven must needs receive him until the time of the restoring of all, &c." Secondly, He was also seen of Paul here corporally on earth.

WHEREFORE these two do import, as ye see, no contradiction.

RID.

What hindereth, but that Christ, if it please him, and when it pleaseth him, may be in heaven and on earth, and appear to whom he will? And yet notwithstanding you have not yet proved that he will so do. And though Christ continually shall be resident in heaven until the judgment, yet there may be some intermission, notwithstanding. But this controversy, as I said, is amongst all the ancient doctors and writers. And that Christ hath been seen, that they grant all: but whether he was then on earth or in heaven, that is doubtful.

SMITH.

I will prove that he would appear on earth

HE so would, and also did appear here on earth after his ascension: Ergo, &c.

RID.

He appeared I grant; but how he ap|peared, whether then being in heaven or in earth, that is uncertain. So he appeared to Stephen, being then corporally sitting in heaven. For, speaking after the true manner of man's body, when he is in heaven, he is not at the same time on earth; and when he is on earth, he is not the same time corporally in heaven.

SMITH.

Christ hath been both in heaven and on earth all at one time.

ERGO, You are deceived in denying that.

RID.

I do not utterly deny Christ here to have been seen on earth. Of uncertain things I speak uncertainly.

SMITH.

He was seen of Paul, as being born before his time, after his ascending up to heaven, 1 Cor. xv.

BUT his vision was a corporal vision.

ERGO, He was seen corporally upon the earth after his ascending into heaven.

RID.

He was seen really and corporally indeed: but whether being in heaven or earth, is a doubt. And of doubtful things we must judge doubtfully. Howbeit, you must prove that he was in heaven at the same time, when he was corporally on earth.

SMITH.

I would know of you, whether this vision may inforce the resurrection of Christ?

RID.

I account this a sound and firm argument to prove the resurrection. But whether they saw him in heaven or on earth, I am in doubt: and to say the truth, it maketh no great matter. Both ways the argument is of like strength. For whe|ther he were seen in heaven, or whether he were seen on earth, either of both maketh sufficiently for the matter. Certain it is, he rose again; for he could not have been seen, unless he had risen again.

SMITH.

Paul saw him as he was here conver|sant on earth, and not out of heaven, as you affirm.

RID.

You run to the beginning again: that you take for granted, which you should have proved.

SMITH.

You make delays for the purpose.

RID.

say not so, I pray you. Those that hear us are learned: they can tell both what you oppose, and what I answer well enough, I warrant you.

TRESH.

He was seen after such sort, as that he might be heard.

ERGO, He was corporally on the earth, or else how could he be heard?

RID.

He that found means for Stephen to be|hold him in heaven, even he could bring to pass well enough, that Paul might hear him out of heaven.

SMITH as others saw him, so Paul saw him.

OTHERS did see him visibly and corporally on earth.

ERGO, Paul saw him visibly and corporally on earth.

RID.

I grant he was seen visibly and corporally: but yet you have not proved that he was seen on earth.

SMITH.

He was seen of him as of others.

BUT he was seen of others being on earth, and appeared visibly to them on earth.

ERGO, He was seen of Paul on earth.

RID.

Your controversy is about [existens in ter|ra,] that is, "being on earth:" if [existere,] "to be," be referred as unto the place, I deny that Christ after that sort was on earth. But if it be referred as to the verity of the body, then I grant it. Moreover, I say, that Christ was seen of men on earth after his ascension, is certain: for he was seen of Stephen; he was also seen of Paul. But whether he descended unto the earth, or whether he being in heaven did reveal or manifest himself to Paul, when Paul was wrapt into the third heaven, I know that some contend about it: and the scrip+ture as far as I have read or heard, doth not determine it. Wherefore we cannot but judge un|certainly of those things which be uncertain.

SMITH.

We have Egesippus and Linus against you, who testify that Christ appeared corporally on the earth to Peter after his ascension. "Peter overcome with the requests and mournings of the people, who desired him to get him out of the city, because of Nero's lying in wait for him, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with|out company to convey himself away from thence: And when he was come to the gate, he seeth Christ come to meet him, and worshipping him, he said, Ma|ster, whither walk you? Christ answered, I am come to be crucified." Linus, writing of the passion of Peter hath the self-same story. St. Ambrose hath the same likewise, and also Abdias, scholar to the apostles, who saw Christ before his ascending into heaven. With what face therefore dare you affirm it to be a thing uncertain, which these men do ma|nifestly witness to have been done?

RID.

I laid before that the doctors in that matter did vary.

SMITH.

Do you think this story is not certain, being approved by so ancient and probable authority?

RID▪

I do so think, because I take and esteem not their words for scripture. And though I did grant you that story to be certain, yet it maketh not against me.

SMITH.

Such things as are certain, and ap|proved of them, you do reject as things uncertain.

RID.

The story of Linus is not of so great au|thority; although I am not ignorant that Eusebius so writeth also in the story of the church. And yet I account not these men's reports so sure as the ca|nonical scriptures. But if at any time he had to any man appeared here on the earth after his ascen|sion, that doth not disprove my saying. For I go not about to tie Christ up in fetters, (as some do untruly report of us) but that he may be seen upon the earth according to his divine pleasure, whenso|ever it pleaseth him. But we affirm, That it is contrary to the nature of his manhood, and the true manner of his body, that he should be together and at one instant both in heaven and earth, according to his corporal substance. And the perpetual sitting at the right hand of the Father, may (I grant) be taken for the stability of Christ's kingdom, and his continual or everlasting equality with his Father in the glory of heaven.

SMITH.

Now whereas you boast that your faith is the very faith of the ancient church; I will shew here that it is not so, but that it doth directly strive against the faith of the old fathers. I will bring in Chrysostom for this point. "Eliseus received the mantle, as a right great inheritance. For it was indeed a right excellent inheritance, and more pre|cious than any gold beside. And the same was a double Elias: he was both Elias above, and Elias beneath. I know well, you think that just man to be happy, and you would gladly be every one of you as he is. What will you then say, if I shall declare unto you a certain other thing, which all we that are indued with these holy mysteries do receive much more than that? Elias indeed left his mantle to his scholar: but the Son of God ascending did leave here his

flesh unto us. Elias left it, putting off the same: but Christ both left it to us, and as••••nded also to heaven, having it with him."

RID.

I grant that Christ did both▪ that is, both took up his flesh with him ascending up, and also did leave the same behind him with us, but af|ter a two fold manner, and respect. For he took his flesh with him, after the true and corporal substance of his body and flesh: again, he left the same in mystery to the faithful in the supper, to be received after a spiritual communication, and by grace. Neither is the same received in the supper only, but also at other times, by hearing the gos|pel, and by faith. For, the bread which we break, is the communication of the body of Christ: and generally, unless ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink his blood, ye shall have no life in you.

SMITH.

Chrysostom saith, "O miracle, O the good will of God! He that sitteth above at the sacrifice time, is contained in the hands of men." O miracle, O the gentleness of God! He that sitteth above with the Father, is handled with the hands of all men at the very same moment of time, and doth himself deliver himself to them that are desi|rous to take and embrace him."

RID.

He that sitteth there is here present in mystery and grace, and is holden of the godly, such as communicate him, not only sacramentally with the hand of the body, but much more whol|somely with the hand of the heart, and by inward drinking is received; but by the sacramental signi|fication he is holden of all men.

SEATON.

Where is then the miracle, if he be only present through his grace and mystery only.

RID.

Yes, there is a miracle, good sir; Christ is not idle in his sacraments. Is not the miracle great, when bread, which is wont to sustain the body, becometh food to the soul? He that under|standeth not that miracle, understandeth not the force of that mystery. God grant we may every one of us understand his truth, and obey the same.

SMITH.

Chrysostom calleth it a miracle, that Christ sitteth at the right hand of God in heaven, and at the same time is hold in the hands of men•• not that he is handled with the hands of men: only in a mystery, and is with 〈◊〉〈◊〉 through grace. Therefore while you deny that, you are altogether deceived, and stray far from the truth.

HARPS.

The former part of Chrysostom is not to be let slip. Let me, before I begin, ask this one question of you. Is it not a great matter that Elias left his cloak or mantle, and the gift of his pro|phecy to his scholar?

RID.

Yes surely, it is a great matter.

HARPS.

Did not Elias then leave great grace?

RID.

He did so.

HARPS.

But Christ left a far greater grace than Elias: for he could not both leave his cloak and take it with him: Christ doth both in his flesh.

RID.

I am well content to grant, that Christ left much greater things to us than Elias to Eliseus, although he be said to have left his double spirit with him: for that the strength and grace of the body of Christ, which Christ ascending up here left us, is the only salvation and life of all men which shall be saved; which life Christ hath here left un|to us, to be received by faith through the hearing of the word, and the right administration of the sa|craments. This virtue and grace Chrysostom, after the phrase and manner of John the evangelist, calleth Christ^s flesh.

HARPS.

But Christ performed a great matter. He carried up, and left behind. You understand not the comparison. The comparison is in this, That Elias left his mantle, and carried it not with him; Christ left his flesh behind him, and carried it with him also.

RID.

True it is, and I myself did affirm no less before. Now where you seem to speak many things, indeed you bring no new thing at all. Let there be a comparison between grace and grace, then Christ gave the far greater grace, when he did insert on graft us into his flesh.

HARPS.

If you will give me leave, I will ask you this question: If Chrysostom would have meant so, that Christ left his body in the eucharist, what plainer words think you, or more evident could he have used than these?

RID.

These things be not of so great force, as they bear a great shew outwardly. He might also have used grosser words, if he had listed to have ut|tered his mind so grossly: for he was an eloquent man. Now he speaketh after the manner of other doctors, which of mystical matters speak mystically, and of sacraments, sacramentally.

HARPS.

The comparison lieth in this; That which was impossible to Elias, is possible with Christ.

RID.

I grant that was possible to Christ, which was to the other impossible. Elias left his cloak: Christ both left his flesh, and took it with him.

HARPS.

Elias left behind him, and could not take with him: Christ both left behind him, and also took with him: except you will say the com|parison here made to be nothing.

RID.

He took up his flesh with him to heaven, and left here the communion of his flesh on earth.

WEST.

You understand in the first place his flesh for very true flesh; and in the second place for grace, and communion of his flesh: and why do you not understand it in the second place also for his true flesh? I will make it evident how block|ish and gross your answer is.

RID.

These be taunts and reproaches, not be|seeming, as I think, the modesty of this school.

WEST.

Elias left his cloak to his disciples: but the Son of God going up to heaven, left his flesh. But Elias certainly left his cloak behind, and Christ likewise his flesh, and yet ascending he carried the same with him too. By which words we make this reason:

CHRIST left his flesh to his disciples, and yet for all that he took the same up with him.

ERGO, He is present here with us.

HERE Dr. Weston speaking to the people in En|glish, said unto them, Dr. Ridley answereth it ••••ter this manner:

HE carried his flesh into heaven, and he left here the communion of his flesh behind. Assuredly the answer is too unlearned.

RID.

I am glad you speak in English. Surely, I wish that all the whole world might understand your reasons and my answers. He left his flesh. This you understand of his flesh, and I understand the same of grace. He carried his flesh into hea|ven, and left behind the communion of his flesh unto us.

WEST.

Ye judges, what think you of this answer?

JUDGES.

It is a ridiculous and very we•••• an|swer.

RID.

Well, I take your words patiently for Christ's cause.

WESTON here citeth, "We are sprinkled with the blood of Christ."

RID.

Mr. Doctor, it is the same blood, but yet spiritually received, and indeed all the prophets were sprinkled with the same blood, but yet spiritually I say, and by grace. And whosoever they be that are not sprinkled with this blood, they cannot be par|takers of the everlasting salvation.

WEST.

Here (speaking again to the people) I bring Bernard unto you. "Even from the west unto the east, from the north unto the south, there is one and the self same Christ in many and divers places."

RID.

The answer is soon made, that one Christ is here and in divers places. For God, according to his majesty, and according to his providence, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 St. Austin saith, is every-where with the godly, according to his indivisible and unspeakable grace. Or else, if ye would understand Bernard according to the corporal presence, how monstrous, or huge,

and giant like a body would you then make Christ's body to be, which would reach even from north to south, from west to east?

WEST.

Nay, nay, you make a monstrous an|swer, and unlearned.

WARD.

Before I come in with those reasons which I had purposed to bring against you, I am minded to come again to Mr. Doctor's argument, by which you being brought into the b••iars, seemed to doubt of Christ's presence on the earth. To the proof of which matter I will bring nothing else, than that which was agreed upon in the catechism of the synod of London, set out not long ago by you.

RID.

Sir, I give you to understand, before you go any further, that I did sat out no catechism.

WEST.

Yes, you made one subscribe to it, when you were a bishop in your ruff.

RID.

I compelled no man to subscribe.

WARD.

Yes, truly, you are the very author of that heresy.

RID.

I put forth no catechism.

COLE.

Did you never consent to the setting out of those things which you allowed?

RID.

I grant that I saw the book; but I deny that I wrote it. I perused it after it was made, and I noted many things for it. So I consented to the book: I was not the author of it.

JUDGES.

The catechism is so set forth, as tho' the whole convocation house had agreed to it. Cranmer said yesterday, that you made it.

RID.

I think surely, that he would not say so.

WARD.

The catechism hath this clause; "If visibly on the earth."

RID

I 〈◊〉〈◊〉, That those articles were set out, I both knowing and consenting to them. Mine own hand will testify the same, and Mr. Cranmer put his hand to them likewise, and gave them to others afterwards▪ Now, as for the place which you alledged out of it, that may easily be expound|ed, and without any inconvenience.

WARD.

Christ is the power and virtue of his Father.

ERGO, He was not of so little strength, that he could not bring to pass whatsoever he would him|self.

RID.

Granted.

WARD.

Christ was the wisdom of the Father.

ERGO, What he spoke he spoke wisely, and so as every man might understand: neither was it his mind to speak one thing instead of another.

RID.

All this I grant.

WARD.

Christ was likewise the very truth: Ergo, He made and performed indeed that which he intended to make. And likewise it is, that he doth neither deceive, nor could be deceived, nor yet would go about to deceive others.

WEST.

Hilarius hath these words, "All God's words or sayings are true, and neither idly placed, nor unprofitably; but fiery, and wonderful fiery, without all doubtfulness of superfluous vanity, that there may be nothing thought to be there which is not absolute and proper."

WARD.

He is the truth of the Father: Ergo, He can neither deceive, nor yet be deceived; espe|cially I mean when he spoke at his latter end, and his testament.

RID.

Christ is the very truth of the Father: and I perceive well to what scope you drive your reason. This is but a far fetch compass of words. If these words of Christ, "This is my body," which you mean, be rightly understood, they are most true.

WARD.

H•• took, he brake, he gave, &c. What took he?

RID.

Bread, his body.

WARD.

What brake he?

RID.

Bread.

WARD.

What gave he?

RID.

Bread.

WARD.

Gave he bread made of wheat, and material bread?

RID.

I know not whether he gave bread of wheat; but he gave true and material bread.

WARD.

I will prove the contrary by scripture.

(1) HE delivered to them that which he bade them take.

(2) BUT he bade not them take material bread, but his own body.

(3) ERGO, He gave not material bread, but his own body.

RID.

I deny the minor. For he bade them take his body sacramentally in material bread: and after that sort it was both bread which he bade them take, because the substance was bread, and it was also his body, because it was the sacrament of his body, for the sanctifying and the coming of the Holy Ghost, which is always assistant to those mysteries which were instituted of Christ, and lawfully admini|stered.

HARPS.

What is he that so saith, By the coming unto of the Holy Spirit?

RID.

I have Theophylact for mine author for this manner of speaking. And here I bring him, that ye may understand that phrase not to be mine, upon Matthew xxvi. Furthermore, the said Theo|phylact writing upon these words, "This is my body," sheweth, that the body of the Lord is bread, which is sanctified on the altar.

OGLE.

That place of Theophylact maketh open|ly against you. For he saith in that place, that Christ said not, This is the figure of my body, but my body. For, saith he, by an unspeakable ope|ration it is transformed, although it seem to us to be bread.

RID.

It is not a figure, that is to say, "Non tantum est figura;" that is, "It is not only a figure of his body."

WEST.

Where have you that word [tantum] "only."

RID.

It is not in that place, but he hath it in another, and Augustine doth so speak many times, and other doctors also.

WEST.

[Here Weston, repeating the words of Theophylact in English, said,]

He saith it is no figure, and you say it is a figure.

And the same Theophylact saith moreover, that the converting or turning of the bread is made into the Lord's flesh.

THAT which Christ gave, we do give.

BUT that which he gave was not a figure of his body.

ERGO, We give no figure, but his body.

[Concerning the authority of Theophylact, what he thought, and might have spoken of that author, Doctor Ridley did not then speak, nor could con|veniently (as he himself afterwards declared, report|ing and writing with his own word the disputations in the prison) because of the uproars and clamours, which were so great, and he of so many called upon, that he could not answer as he would, and what he thought touching the authority of Theophylact, but answered simply to that which is brought out of that author in this manner.]

RID.

I grant, the bread to be converted and turned into the flesh of Christ, not by transubstanti|ation, but by a sacramental conversion or turning. It is transformed, saith Theophylact, in the same place, by a mystical benediction, and by the acces|sion or coming of the Holy Ghost unto the flesh of Christ. He saith not, by expulsion or driving away the substance of bread, and by substituting or put|ting

in its place the corporal substance of Christ's flesh. And where he saith, It is not a figure of the body, we should understand that saying, as he himself doth elsewhere add, [only], that is, it is no naked or bare figure only. For Christ is present in his mysteries, neither at any time, as Cyprian saith, doth the Divine Majesty absent him|self from the divine mysteries.

WEST.

You put in [only], and that is one lye. And I tell you farther, Peter Martyr was fain to deny the author, because the place was so plain a|gainst him. But mark his words, how he saith, It is no figure, but his flesh.

RID.

To take his words, and not his meaning, is to do injury to the author.

WARD.

No other doctor maketh more against you: for his words are, "Turned from one ele|ment into another." And shewing the cause why it is in the form of bread, he saith▪ "Because we are infirm, and abhor to eat raw flesh, specially the flesh of man; therefore it appeareth bread, but it is flesh."

RID.

That word hath not that strength which you seem to give it. You strain it overmuch, and yet it maketh not so much for your purpose. For the same author hath in another place, "We are tra••s••len••••t••d▪ or transformed into the body of Christ." And so by that word, in such meaning as you speak of, I could prove as well that we are transformed indeed into the very body of Christ.

WARD.

Learned doctor, thus you expound the p••ace, "This is my body;" that is, a figure of my body.

RID.

Although I know there be some that so expound it, yet that exposition is not full to express the whole.

WARD.

My sheep hear my voice, and follow me.

BUT all the sheep of Christ hear this voice, "This is my body," without a figure.

THEREFORE, The voice of Christ here hath no figure.

RID.

The sheep of Christ follow the voice of Christ, unless they be seduced and deceived through ignorance.

WARD.

But the Fathers took this place for no figurative speech.

RID.

Yet they do all number this place among figurative and tropical speeches.

WARD.

Justine Martyr, in his second apology, hath this passage (which place Cranmer hath cor|rupted). "For we do not take this for common bread and drink, but like as Jesus Christ our Sa|viour incarnate by the word of God, had flesh and blood for our salvation; even so we are taught, the food wherewith our flesh and blood is nourished by alteration, when it is consecrated by the prayer of his word, to be the flesh and blood of the same Je|sus incarnate."

DR. CRANMER hath thus translated it: "Bread, water, and wine, are not to be taken as other com|mon meats and drinks be, but they are ordained purposely to give thanks to God, and therefore are called Eucharistia, and likewise the body and blood of Christ; and that it is lawful for none to eat and drink of them, but such as profess Christ, and live according to the same; and yet the same meat and drink is changed into our flesh and blood, and nou|risheth our bodies."

RID.

O good Mr. Doctor, go sincerely to work: I know that place, and I know how 〈…〉〈…〉.

[HERE Ward repeated the place again out of Justine, "We are taught," &c. as above.]

RID.

O what upright d••••l••ng is this▪ I have the self same place of Justine here copied out. You know your self who are skilful in Greek, how the words here be removed out of the right place, and without any just cause.

WARD.

I stand still upon mine argument. What say you.

RID.

If you will that I should answer to Justine, then you must hear. I have but one tongue, I can|not answer at once to you all.

WEST.

Christ gave us his very and true flesh to be eaten.

BUT he never gave it to be eaten but in his last supper, and in the sacrament of the altar.

ERGO, There is the very flesh of Christ.

RID.

If you speak of the very true flesh of Christ, after the substance of his flesh taken in the womb of the virgin Mary, and not by grace and spiritually, I then do deny the first part of your rea|son. But if you understand it of the true flesh, after grace and spiritual communication, I then grant the first part, and deny the second. For he giveth unto us truly his flesh, to be eaten of all that believe in him. For he is the very and true meat of the soul, wherewith we are fed unto everlasting life, according to his saying, "My flesh is meat indeed," &c.

WARD.

"I have desired with my hearty desire 〈◊〉〈◊〉 this paschal with you." What paschal, I pray you, desired he to eat? Did he understand by this paschal the Judaical lamb? or that which he gave afterwards in his own supper?

RID.

I suppose that the first he understood of the Judaical passover, and afterwards of the eu|charist.

WARD.

Tertullian is agains•• you, who saith,

"HE desired to eat this passover.

BUT the Judaical passover was not 〈◊〉〈◊〉, but strange from Christ.

THEREFORE, he meant not the Judaical passover."

RID.

The Judaical passover was not strange from Christ, but his own: for he is Lord of all; as well of the Judaical passover, as of his own supper.

TERTULLIAN may her•• play with an analogical sense. I know Cyprian hath these 〈◊〉〈◊〉, "He began then to institute the holy eucharist, but both were Christ's."

WARD.

Augustine, in Psalm xcvi. writing upon these words, "Worship his foot-stool," &c. "I ask (saith he) what is the foot-stool of his feet? and the scripture telleth me, The earth is the foot-stool of my feet. And I turn myself to Christ, because I seek him here on the earth, and find how, without impiety, the foot-stool of his feet may be worship|ped; for he took earth of earth, in that he is flesh and earth; and of the flesh of Mary he took flesh, because in the same flesh he here walked; and he also give the same flesh to us to be eaten unto salva|tion. But no man eateth that flesh, except he hath worshipped before. And so it is found, how such a foot-stool of the Lord is to be worshipped, so that not only we sin in not worshipping, but also do sin in not worshipping the same."

HE gave to us his flesh to be eaten, the which he took of the earth, in which also here he walked, &c.

BUT he never gave his flesh to be eaten, but when he gave it at his supper, saying, "This is my body."

ERGO, In the eucharist he gave his flesh.

RID.

You do alledge the place of Austin, where he saith, that Christ gave his flesh to be eaten which he took of the earth, and in which here he walked, inferring herefrom, that Christ never gave the same his flesh to be eaten, but only in the eucharist. I deny your minor; for he gave it both in the eucha|rist to be eaten, and also otherwise, as well in the word, as also upon the cross.

SMITH.

What if Augustine say, that Christ did not only give himself to us in a figure, but gave his own very flesh indeed and really?

RID.

I never said that Christ gave only a figure of his body. For indeed he gave himself in a real communication, that is▪ he gave his flesh after a communication of his flesh.

[HERE Weston read the place of Augustine in English, and afterwards said thus:]

WEST.

You say, Christ gave not his body, but a figure of his body.

RID.

I say not so; I say he gave his own body verily. But he gave it by a real, effectual, and spi|ritual communication.

[AFTER this, Dr. Glin began to reason, who, (notwithstanding Dr. Ridley had always taken him for his old friend) made a very contumelious preface against him. This preface Dr. Ridley therefore did the more take to heart, because it proceeded from him. But he thought that Dr. Glin's mind was to serve the time. For, afterwards he came to the house wherein Dr. Ridley was kept, and as far as Dr. Ridley could call to remembrance, before Dr. Young and Dr. Oglethorp, he desired him to pardon his words. With this Dr. Ridley complied, even from his heart, and wished earnestly, that God would give not only to him, but unto all others, the true and evident knowledge of God's evangelical sincerity, that all offences put apart, they being per|fectly and fully reconciled, might agree and meet together in the house of their heavenly Father.]

GLIN.

I see that you evade all scriptures and fathers; I will go to work with you after another manner.

CHRIST hath here his church known on earth, of which you were once a child, although now you speak contumeliously of the sacraments.

RID.

This is a grievous reproach, that you call me a shifter away of the scripture, and of the doc|tors: as touching the sacraments, I never yet spake contumeliously of them. I grant that Christ hath here his church on earth: but that church did ever receive and acknowledge the eucharist to be a sacrament of the body of Christ, yet not the body of Christ really, but the body of Christ by grace.

GLIN.

Then I ask this question; Whether the catholic church hath ever, or at any time, been idolatrous?

RID.

The church is the pillar and st••y of the truth, that never yet hath been idolatrous in respect of the whole: but peradventure in respect of some part thereof, which sometimes may be seduced by evil pastors, and through ignorance.

GLIN.

That church ever hath worshipped the flesh of Christ in the eucharist.

BUT the church hath never been idolatrous.

ERGO, It hath always judged the flesh of Christ to be in the eucharist,

RID.

And I also worship Christ in the sacra|ment, but not because he is included in the sacra|ment, like as I worship Christ also in the scriptures, not because he is really included in them. Not|withstanding▪ I say, that the body of Christ is present in the sacrament, but yet sacramentally and spiritually, according to his grace giving life, and in that respect really, that is, according to his benediction giving life.

FURTHERMORE, I acknowledge, gladly, the true body of Christ to be in the Lord's supper, in such sort as the church of Christ (which is the spouse of Christ, and is taught of the Holy Ghost, and gui|ded by God's word) doth acknowledge the same. But the true church of Christ doth acknowledge a presence of Christ's body in the Lord's supper to be communicated to the godly, by grace, and spi|ritually, as I have often shewed, and by a sacra|mental signification, but not by the corporal presence of the body of his flesh.

GLIN.

Austin saith, "Some there were who thought us, instead of bread and of the cup, to worship Ceres and Bacchus."

FROM wh••nce I gather, that there was an ado|ration of the sacrament among the fathers; and Erasmus in an epistle to the brethren of Low-Germany, saith, that the worshipping of the sacra|ment was before Austin and Cypr••••n.

RID.

We do handle the signs reverently: but we worship the sacrament as a sacrament, not as a thing signified by the sacrament.

GLIN.

What is the symbol of sacrament?

RID.

Bread.

GLIN.

Ergo, We worship bread.

RID.

There is a deceit in this word [adoramus.] We worship the symbols, when reverently we handle them. We worship Christ wheresoever we per|ceive his benefits. But we understand his benefit to be the greatest in the sacrament.

GLIN.

So I may fall down before the bench here, and worship Christ: and if any man ask me what I do, I may answer, I worship Christ.

RID.

We adore and worship Christ in the eu|charist. And if you mean the external sacrament; I say, that also is to be worshipped as a sacrament.

GLIN.

So was the faith of the primitive church.

RID.

Would to God we would all follow the faith of that church.

GLIN.

Think you that Christ hath now his church?

RID.

I do so.

GLIN.

But all the church adoreth Christ, veri|ly and really in the sacrament.

RID.

You know yourself that the eastern church would not acknowledge transubstantiation, as ap|peareth in the council of Florence.

••OLE.

That is false. For in the same they did acknowledge transubstantiation, although they would not intreat of the matter, for that they ha•• not in their commission so to do.

RID.

Nay, they would determine nothing of the matter, when the article was prop••unded unto them.

••••LE.

I•• was not because they did not acknow|ledge the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, but because they had no commis|sion ••o to do.

CU••TOR

Reverend 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ I will prove and declare, that the body of Christ is truly and really in the 〈…〉〈…〉 whereas the holy fathers, both of 〈…〉〈…〉 church, have written both many things and no less manifest of the same matter, yet 〈…〉〈…〉 only Chrysostom.

THAT which is in the cup, is the same that flow|ed from the side of Christ.

BUT true and pure blood did flow from the side of Christ

ERGO, His true and pure blood is in the cup.

RID.

It is his true blood which is in the chalice, I grant, and the same which sprang from the side of Christ. But how? It is blood indeed, in which it sprang from his side. For here is the blood, but by way of a sacrament.

AGAIN.

I say, like as the bread of the sacrament and of thanksgiving is called the body of Christ gi|ven for us; so the cup of the Lord is called the blood which sprang from the side of Christ. But as the sacramental bread is called the body, because it is the sacrament of his body: even so likewise the cup is called the blood which flowed out of Christ's side, because it is the sacrament of that blood which flowed out of his side, instituted by the Lord him|self for ou•• singular advantage; namely, for our spiritual nourishment: like as baptism is ordained in water to spiritual regeneration.

CUR.

The sacrament of the blood is not blood.

RID.

The sacrament of the blood is the blood, and that is attributed to the sacrament, which is spoken of the thing of the sacrament.

[HI••E Weston repeateth Curtop's argument in English.]

WEST.

That which is in the chalice, is the same which flowed out of Christ's side.

BUT there came out very blood.

ERGO, There is blood in the chalice.

RID.

The blood of Christ is in the chalice indeed, but not in the real presence, but by grace, and in a sacrament.

WEST.

That is very well. Then we have blood in the chalice.

RID.

It is true, but by grace, and in a sacra|ment.

[HERE the people hissed at him.]

RID.

O my masters! I take this for no judg|ment: I will stand to God's judgment.

WAT.

Good sir, I have determined to have respect of the time, and to ••••stain from all those things which may hinder the progress of our dis|putation; and therefore first I ask this question; when Christ said in the sixth of John, "He that eateth my flesh," &c. doth he signify in those words ••he eating of his true and natural flesh, or else of the bread and symbol?

RID.

I understand that place of the very flesh of Christ to be eaten, but spiritually: and further I say, that the sacrament also pertaineth unto the spiritual eating. For without the spirit to eat the sacrament is to ••at ••t unprofitably. For whoso eat|eth not spiritually, he eateth his own condemna|tion.

WAT.

I ask then, whether the eucharist be a sacrament?

RID.

The eucharist, taken for a sign or sym|bol, is a sacrament.

WAT.

Is it instituted of God?

RID.

It is instituted of God.

WAT.

Where?

RID

In the supper.

WAT.

With what words is it 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a sacra|ment?

RID.

By the words and deeds which Christ said and did, and commanded us to do the same.

WAT.

It is a thing commonly received of all, that the sacraments of the new law give grace to them that worthily receive.

RID.

True it is, that grace is given by the sacrament, but as by an instrument. The inward virtue and Christ give the grace through the sacra|ment.

WAT.

What is a sacrament?

RID.

I remember there may be many defini|tions of a sacrament in Augustine: but I will take that which seemeth most fit to this purpose. A sacrament is a visible sign of invisible grace.

WAT.

Ergo, Grace is given to the receivers.

RID.

The uni••n or conjunction with Christ through the Holy Ghost is grace, and by the sacra|ment we are made members of the mystical body of Christ, for by the sacrament part of the body is grafted in the head.

WAT.

But there is a difference between the mystical body, and natural body.

RID.

There is (I grant you) a difference, but the head of them both is one.

WAT.

The eucharist is a sacrament of the New Testament.

ERGO, It hath a promise of grace.

BUT no promise of grace is made of bread and wine.

ERGO, Bread and wine are not the sacraments of the New Testament.

RID.

I grant that grace pertaineth to the eucha|rist, according to this saying, "The bread which we break, is it not the communication or partaking of the body of Christ?" And like as he that eateth, and he that drinketh unworthily of the sacrament of the body and blood of the Lord, eateth and drinketh his own damnat••••n▪ even so he that eat|eth and drinketh worthily, eateth life, and drink|eth life. I grant also, that there is no pro••••se made to bread and wine. But in ••smuch as they are sanctified, and made the sacraments of the body and blood of the Lord▪ they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a promise of grace annex••d unto them▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉, of spiritual partaking of the body of Christ to be communica|ted and given, not to the bread and wine, but to

them who worthily receive the sacrament.

WAT.

If the substance of bread and wine do remain, then the union betwixt Christ and us is promised to them that take bread and wine.

BUT that union is not promised to bread and wine, but to the receivers of the flesh and blood. John 6. "He that eateth my flesh," &c.

ERGO, The substance of bread and wine re|maineth not.

RID.

The promise undoubtedly is made to the flesh and blood, but the same is to be received in the sacrament through faith.

WAT.

Every sacrament hath a promise of grace annexed unto it.

ERGO, The bread and wine are not sacraments.

RID.

True it is, every sacrament hath grace annexed unto it instrumentally. But there are di|vers understandings of this word [••abet] "hath." For the sacrament hath not grace included in it; but to those that receive it well, it is turned to grace. After that manner the water in baptism hath grace promised, and by that the Holy Spirit is given; not that grace is included in water, but that grace cometh by water.

WAT.

This promise is made to the flesh and blood of Christ, and not to the bread and wine.

ERGO, The sacrament is not bread and wine, but the body and blood of Christ.

RID.

There is no promise made to him that taketh common bread and common wine, but to him that receiveth in the sanctified bread▪ and bread of the communion, there is a large promise of grace made; neither is the promise given to the symbol••, but to the thing of the sacrament. But the thing of the sacrament is the flesh and blood.

WAT.

Every sacrament of the New Testament giveth grac••, promised of God to those that worthily receive it.

RID.

This sacrament hath a promise of grace made to those who receive it worthily, because grace is given by it, as by an instrument, not that Christ hath transfused grace into bread and wine.

WAT.

But this promise which is made, is only to those that worthily receive the flesh and blood; not the bread and wine.

RID.

That proposition of your's hath a double understanding. There is no promise made to them that receive common bread, as it were; but to those that worthily receive the sanctified bread, there is a promise of grace made, as Origen doth testify.

WAT.

Where is that promise made?

RID.

"The bread which we brake, is it not a communication of the body of Christ?" And, "We being many are one bread, one body of Christ."

WAT.

What doth he mean by bread in that place?

RID.

The bread of the Lord's table; the com|munion of the body of Christ.

WAT.

Hear what Chrysostom saith upon that passage: "The bread which we break, is it not the communication of Christ's body? Wherefore did he not say, participation? Because he would signi|fy some great matter, and that he would declare a great convenience and conjunction betwixt the same. For we do not communicate by participation only, and receiving, but also by co-uniting. For, like as that body is co united to Christ, so also we by the same bread are united to him."

RID.

Let Chrysostom have his manner of speak|ing, and his sentence. If it be true, I reject it not. But let it not be prejudicial to me to name it true bread.

WAT.

"All (saith Chrysostom) which sit toge|ther at one board, do communicate together of one true body. What do I call (saith he) this commu|nicating? We are all the self same body. What doth bread signify? The body of Christ. What ate they that receive it? The body of Christ. For

many are but one body." Chrysostom doth inter|pret this place against you: "All we be one bread, and one mystical body, which do participate toge|ther one bread of Christ."

RID.

All we be one mystical body, which do communicate of one Christ in bread, after the effica+cy of regeneration or quickening.

WAT.

Of what manner of bread speaketh he?

RID.

Of the bread of the Lord's table.

WAT.

Is that bread one?

RID.

It is one, of the church being one, be|cause one bread is set forth upon the table: and so of one bread all together do participate, which com|municate at the table of the Lord.

WAT.

See how absurdly you speak. Do you say, all which be from the beginning to the end of the world?

RID.

All, I say, which at one table together have communicated in the mysteries might well so do. But the heavenly and celestial bread is like|wise one also, whereof the sacramental bread is a mystery: the which being one, all we together do participate.

WAT.

A perverse answer. Which all? Mean you all christian men?

RID.

I do distribute this word [All]: for all were wont together to communicate of the one bread divided into parts. All, I say, which were one congregation, and which all did communicate together at one table.

WAT.

What? Do you then exclude then from the body of Christ all them who did not communicate, being present?

FECK.

But Cyprian saith, "Bread which no multitude doth consume." Which cannot be un|derstood but only of the body of Christ.

RID.

Also Cyprian in this place did speak of the true body of Christ, and not of material bread.

FECK.

Nay, rather he did there treat of the sa|crament in that treatise De Caena Domini, writing upon "the supper of the Lord."

RID.

Truth it is, that I grant he treateth there of the sacrament: but also he doth mix something therewithal of the spiritual eating.

SMITH.

When the Lord saith, "This is my body," he useth no tropical speech.

ERGO. You are deceived.

RID.

I deny your antecedent.

SMITH.

I bring here Augustine in ps. xxxiii. expounding these words, Fere••atur 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••anibus suis, "He was carried in his own h••••ds." "How may this be understood to be done in one man? For no man is carried in his own hands, but in the hands of another. How this may be understood of David after the letter, we do not find; of Christ we find it. For Christ was borne in his own hands, when he saith, "This is my body," for he carried that same body in his own hands," &c.

AUGUSTINE here did not see how this place after the letter could be understood of David, because no man can carry himself in his own hands. Therefore, saith he, this place is to be understood of Christ after the letter. For Christ carried him|self in his own hands in his supper, when ••e gave the sacrament to his disciples, saying, "This is my body."

RID.

I deny your argument, and will explain the same. Austin could not find, after his own understanding, how this could be understood of David after the letter. Austin diff••••s here from 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in this exposition, but I 〈…〉〈…〉 from him. But let this exposition of Austin be granted to you, although I know this place of scripture be otherw••se read of other men, after the veri••y of the H••••r••w text, and it is also otherwise to be expounded. Yet to grant to you this exposition of Austin, I say, yet notwithstanding it maketh nothing against my

assertion: for Christ did bear himself in his own hands, when he gave the sacrament of his body to be eaten of his disciples.

SMITH.

ERGO, It is true of Christ after the letter, that he was borne in his own hands.

RID.

He was borne literally, and after that letter which was spoken of David: but not after the letter of these words, "This is my body."

I grant, that St. Austin saith, it is not found literally of David, that he carried himself in his own hands, but that it is found of Christ. But this word, [ad literam,] "literally," you do not well re|fer to that which was borne, but rather it ought to be referred to him that did bear it. St. Augustine's meaning is this; that it is not read any where in the Bible, that this carnal David, the son of Jesse, did bear himself in his hands, but of that spiritual David that overthrew Goliah the devil; that is, of Christ our Saviour, the son of the virgin, it may well be found literally, that he bare himself in his own hands after a certain manner, namely, in carry|ing the sacrament of himself. And not, that St. Augustine hath these words, Quodam modo, "after a certain manner;" which manifestly declare how the doctor's meaning is to be taken.

SMITH.

When then was he borne in his own hands, and after what letter?

RID.

He was borne in the supper sacramental|ly, when he said, "This is my body."

SMITH.

Every man may bear in his own hands a figure of his body.

BUT Austin denieth that David could carry him|self in his hands.

ERGO, He speaketh of no figure of his body.

RID.

If Austin could have found in all the scrip|ture, that David had carried the sacrament of his body, then he would never have used that exposition of Christ.

SMITH.

But he did bear himself in his own hands:

ERGO, He did not bear a figure only.

RID.

He did bear himself, but in a sacrament: and Austin afterwards added Quodam modo, that is, sacramentally.

SMITH.

You understand not what Austin meant, when he said, Quodam modo; for he meant that he did bear his very true body in that supper, not in figure and form of a body, but in form and figure of bread.

ERGO, You are holden fast, neither are you able to escape out of this labyrinth.

DR. WESTON repeated this place again in Eng|lish. Which done, Dr. Tresham began thus to speak, moved (as it seemed to Mr. Ridley) with great zeal, and desired that he might be instead of John Baptist, in converting the hearts of the fathers, and in reducing the said bishop Ridley again to the mother church. Now at the first, not knowing the person, he thought he had been some good old man, which had the zeal of God, although not according to knowledge, and began to answer him with reve|rence. But afterwards he smelled a fox under a sheep's cloathing.

"God Almighty grant that it may be fulfilled in me, that was spoken by the prophet Malachi of John Baptist, which may turn the hearts of the fa|thers to the children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers, that you may at length be convert|ed. The wise man saith, Son, honour thy father, and reverence thy mother. But you dishonour 〈◊〉〈◊〉 father in heaven, and pollute your mother the holy church here on earth, while ye set not by it."

RID.

These bye-words do pollute your school.

TRESH.

If there were an Arian which had that subtle wit that you have, he might soon shift off the authorities of the scripture and fathers.

WEST.

Either dispute, or else hold your peace, I pray you.

TRESH.

I bring a place here out of the council of Lateran, the which council representing the uni|versal

church, wherein were congregated three hun|dred bishops, and seventy metropolitans, besides a great multitude of others, decreed, That bread and wine, by the power of God's word, was transubstan|tiate into the body and blood of the Lord. There|fore, whosoever saith contrary, cannot be a child of the church, but an heretic.

RID.

Good sir, I have heard what you have cited out of the council of Lateran, and remem|ber that there was a great multitude of bishops and metropolitans, as you said: but yet you have not numbered how many abbots, priors, and friars were in that council, who were to the number of eight hundred.

ONE of the scribes. What, will you deny then the authority of that council for the multitude of those priors?

RID.

No sir, not so much for that cause, as for that especially, because the doctrine of that council agreed not with the word of God, as it may well appear by the acts of that council, which was holden under Innocent the third, a man (if we believe the histories) most pernicious to the church and com|mon-wealth of Christ.

TRESH.

What, do you not receive the council of Lateran? Whereupon he with certain others cried, Write, write.

RID.

No sir, I receive not that council; write, and write again.

TRESH.

Evil men do eat the natural body of Christ.

ERGO, The true and natural body of Christ is on the altar.

RID.

Evil men do eat the very true and natural body of Christ sacramentally, and no further, as St. Augustine saith: but good men do eat the very true body both sacramentally, and spiritually by grace.

TRESH.

I prove the contrary by Augustine, "Like as Judas, to whom the Lord gave the mor|sel, did offend; not in taking a thing that was evil, but in receiving it after an evil manner," &c. And a little after, "Because some do not eat unto salva|tion, it followeth not therefore, that it is not his body."

RID.

It is the body to them, that is, the sacra|ment of the body: and Judas took the sacrament of the Lord to his condemnation. Austin hath distin|guished these things well in another place, where he saith, "The bread of the Lord, the bread the Lord. Evil men eat the bread of the Lord, but not bread the Lord. But good men eat both the bread of the Lord, and bread the Lord."

WEST.

Paul saith, the body, and you say, the sacrament of the body.

RID.

Paul meaneth so indeed.

WAT.

You understand it evil concerning the sign: for the fathers say, that evil men do eat him which descended from heaven.

RID.

They eat him indeed, but sacramentally. The fathers use many times the sacrament for the matter of the sacrament; that same place maketh against you; and here he cited the place.

WEST.

I bring Theophylact, who saith, "That Judas did taste the body of the Lord. The Lord did shew the cruelty of Judas, which, when he was rebuked, did not understand, and tasted the Lord's flesh," &c.

RID.

This phrase to divines is well known, and used of the doctors. He tasted the flesh of the Lord,

[insensibly,]

that is, the sacrament of the Lord's flesh.

WEST.

Chrysostom saith▪ That the same punish|ment remaineth to them who receive the body of th•• Lord unworthily, as to them who crucified him.

RID.

That is, because they defile the Lord body: for evil men do eat the body of Christ sacr••••mentally, but good men eat both the sacrament 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the matter of the sacrament.

WAT.

You reject the council of Lateran, b••••cause

(you say) it agreeth not with God's word. What say you then to the council of Nice? The words of the council are these, "Let us not look a-low by the ground upon the bread and the drink set before us, but lifting up our mind let us faith|fully believe, there upon the holy table to lie the Lamb of God taking away the sins of the world, being sacrificed of the priests."

RID.

That council was collected out of ancient fathers, and is to me a great authority: for it saith, "That bread is set upon the altar, and having our minds lifted up, we must consider him which is in heaven." The words of the council make for me.

WAT.

[Exalta mente,] "with a mind exalted;" that is, not as brute beasts at the rack or manger, having an eye only upon the thing that is set before them. The Lamb of God lieth on the table, saith the council.

RID.

The Lamb of God is in heaven, according to the verity of the body; and here he is with us in a mystery, according to his power, not corporally.

WAT.

But the Lamb of God lieth on the table.

RID.

It is a figurative speech, for in our mind we understand him which is in heaven.

WAT.

But he lieth there, as the Greek word imports.

RID.

He lieth there, that is, he is there present, not corporally, but he lieth there in his operation.

WAT.

He lieth, but his operation lieth not.

RID.

You think very grossly of the sitting or lying of the celestial Lamb on the table of the Lord. For we may not imagine any such sitting or lying upon the table, as the reason of man would judge: but all things are here to be understood spiritually. For that heavenly Lamb is (as I con|fess) on the table, but by a spiritual presence, by grace, and not after any corporal substance of his flesh taken out of the virgin Mary.

AND indeed the same canon doth plainly teach, that the bread which is set on the table is material bread; and therefore it (the canon I mean) com|mandeth that we should not creep on the ground in our thoughts, to those things which are set before us: as who should say, what other things are they (as much as pertaineth to their true substance) than bread and wine? but rather, saith the canon, lifting up our minds into heaven, let us consider with faith the Lamb of God which taketh away the sins of the world, sitting or lying upon the table. For a lifted up faith, saith he, seeth him which sitteth on the right hand of God the Father, after the true manner of a body set by grace on the Lord's table, and taking away the sins of the world. For I think you mean not so, as though the Lamb did lie there prostrate with his members spread upon the table.

SMITH.

I bring another place out of the council of Nice: "None of the apostles said, this is a fi|gure of the body of Christ▪ none of the reverend elders ••••id, the un••loody sacrifice of the altar to be a figure.

ERGO, 〈…〉〈…〉 deceived.

RID.

This 〈…〉〈…〉 of Nice. For I have read over t••is 〈◊〉〈◊〉 many times.

THEN came in another whom Mr. Ridley knew not, and said, "The universal church both of the Greeks and Latins, of the east and of the west, have agreed in the council of Florence, uniformly, in the doctrine of the sacrament, that in the sacrament of the altar there is the true and real body.

RID.

I deny the Greek and the east church to have agreed either in the council at Florence, or at any time else, with the Romish church, in the doc|trine of transubstantiation of bread into the body of Christ. Fo•• there was nothing in the council of Florence, wherein the Greeks would agree with the Romanists; however I confess, it was left for every church to use, as they were wont, leavened or un|leavened bread.

HERE cried out Dr. Cole, and said, they agreed together concerning transubstantiation of bread into

the body of Christ Dr. Ridley said that could not be.

THEN started up another, unknown to Dr. Rid|ley, but thought to be one of the scribes, who af|firmed with him, that indeed there was nothing de|creed concerning transubstantiation; the council left that as a matter not meet nor worthy to disturb the peace and concord of the church. To whom Dr. Ridley answered again, that he said the truth.

PYE.

What say you to that council, where it is said, that the priest doth offer an unbloody sacrifice of the body of Christ?

RID.

I say, it is well said, if it be rightly un|derstood.

PYE.

But he offered an unbloody sacrifice.

RID.

It was called unbloody, and is offered after a certain manner, and in a mystery, and as a repre+sentation of that bloody sacrifice, and he doth not lye, which saith Christ to be offered.

WEST.

I with one argument will throw down to the ground your opinion, out of Chrysostom, Hom. xxiv. in 1 Cor. And I will teach, not only a figure and a sign, or grace only, but the very same body, which was here conversant on the earth, to be in the eucharist.

(1) WE worship the self-same body in the eu|charist, which the wise men did worship in the manger.

(2) BUT that was his natural and real body, not spiritual.

(3) ERGO, The real body of Christ is in the eucharist.

AGAIN, the same Chrysostom saith, "We have not here the Lord in a manger, but on the altar. Here a woman holdeth him not in her hands, but a priest."

RID.

We worship, I confess, the same true Lord and Saviour of the world, which the wise men worshipped in the manger; howbeit we do it in a mystery, and in the sacrament of the Lord's supper, and that in spiritual liberty, as saith St. Austin, l. 3. De Doctrina Christiana; not in carnal servitude; that is, we do not worship servilely the signs for the things; for that should be, as he also saith, a part of a servile infirmity. But we behold with the eyes of faith him present after grace, and spiritually set upon the table; and we worship him which sitteth above, and is worshipped of the angels. For Christ is always assistant to his mysteries, as the said Au|gustine saith. And the Divine Majesty, as Cyprian saith, doth never absent himself from the divine mysteries; but this assistance and presence of Christ, as in baptism it is wholly spiritual, and by grace, and not by any corporal substance of the flesh, even so it is here in the Lord's supper, being rightly and according to the word of God duly ministered.

WEST.

That which the woman did hold in her womb, the same holdeth the priest.

RID.

I grant the priest holdeth the same thing, but after another manner. She did hold the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 body; the priest holdeth the mystery of the body.

HERE Weston again repeated his argument out of Chrysostom in English.

RID.

I say that the author meant it spiritually.

[HERE the prolocut••r, Dr. Weston, put an end to the disputation with these words: You see the stubborn, the boasting, the crafty, the unconstant mind of this man. Here you, see this day, that the strength of the truth is without foil. Therefore, I beseech you all most earnestly to blow the note of triumph: having said this, he began, and they fol|lowed, exclaiming, "Truth hath the victory, Truth hath the victory."]

A THIRD DISPUTATION at OXFORD, April 18, 1554, between the Rev. Dr. HUGH LATIMER, Bishop of WORCESTER, and others, his opponents.

BISHOP Latimer was brought out to dispute upon Wednesday, April 18. This disputation began at eight o'clock, and was conducted in much

the same manner as those preceding, except that most part of it was in English: for the bishop al|ledged, that he was out of use with the Latin, and unfit for that place.

MR. SMITH of Oriel college, Dr. Cartwright, Mr. Harpsfield, and others, replied to him, with many cruel insinuations and bitter taunts. The old bishop escaped no hissings, and scornful laugh|ings, which those who had went before had patient|ly endured. Being very faint, he desired that he might not long tarry; nor durst he drink for fear of vomiting. The disputation ended before eleven of the clock. Dr. Latimer was not suffered to read what he had, as he observed, painfully writ|ten: but it was exhibited up, and the prolocutor, after having read part thereof, proceeded unto the disputation. * 10.1

The EXORDIUM, or PREFACE, of Dr. WESTON, Prolocutor, unto the following DISPUTATION.

MEN and brethren, we are come together this day (by the help of God) to vanquish the strength of the arguments, and dispersed opini|ons of adversaries, against the truth of the real presence of the Lord's body in the sacrament. And therefore, you father, if you have any thing to an|swer, I do admonish that you answer in short and few words.

LAT.

I pray you, good master prolocutor, do not exact that of me, which is not in me; I have not these twenty years much used the Latin tongue.

WEST.

Take your ease, father.

LAT.

I thank you sir, I am well; let me here protest my faith; for I am not able to dispute; and afterwards do your pleasure with me.

The PROTESTATION of BISHOP LATIMER, given in writing to DR. WESTON.

THE conclusions whereunto I must answer, are these:

1. THE first is, That in the sacrament of the al|tar by the virtue of God's word pronounced by the priest, there is really present the natural body of Christ, conceived of the virgin Mary, under the kinds of the appearance of bread and wine; in like manner his blood.

2. THE second is, That after consecration there remaineth no substance of bread and wine, nor any other substance, but the substance of God and Man.

3. THE third is, That in the mass there is the lively sacrifice of the church, which is propitiable, as well for the sins of the quick, as of the dead.

CONCERNING the first conclusions, I think it is set forth with certain new found terms that are ob|scure, and do not sound according to the speech of scripture. But however I understand it, this I do answer plainly, (though not without peril) that to the right celebration of the Lord's supper, there is no other presence of Christ required, than a spi|ritual presence: and this presence is sufficient for a christian man, as a presence by which we abide in Christ, and Christ abideth in us, to the obtaining of eternal life, if we persevere. And this same presence may be called most fitly a real presence, that is, a presence not feigned, but a true and faithful presence. Which thing I here rehearse,

lest some sycophant, or scorner, should suppose me, with the anabaptists, to make nothing else of the sacrament, but a naked and bare sign. As for that which is feigned of many concerning their corporal presence, I for my part take it for a papistical in|vention; therefore I think it ought utterly to be rejected.

CONCERNING the second conclusion, I dare be bold to say, that it hath no ground in God's word, but is a thing invented and found out by man, and therefore to be taken as false; and I had almost said, as the mother and nurse of the other errors. It were good for my lords and masters of the transub|stantiation, to take heed lest they conspire with the Nestorians, for I do not see how they can avoid it.

THE third conclusion (as I understand it) seem|eth subtily to sow sedition against the offering which Christ himself offered for us in his own proper person, according to these words of St. Paul, Heb. i. where he saith, "That Christ his own self hath made purgation of our sins." And afterwards, "That he might (said he) be a mer|ciful and faithful bishop, concerning those things which are to be done with God, for the taking away of our sins." So that the expiation or taking away of our sins may be thought to de|pend on this, that Christ was an offering bishop, than that he was offered, were it not that he was offered of himself: and therefore it is needless that he should be offered of any other. I will speak nothing of the wonderful presumption of man, to dare to attempt this thing without a ma|nifest vocation, especially in that it tendeth to the overthrowing and making fruitless (if not whol|ly, yet partly) of the cross of Christ; for truly it is no base or mean thing to offer Christ. And therefore well may a man say to my lords and masters the offerers, By what authority do ye this? and who gave you this authority? Where? When? A man cannot (saith the baptist) take any thing, except it be given him from above: much less then may any man presume to usurp any ho|nour, before he be thereto called. Again, If any man sin, (saith St. John) we have, not a master, or offerer, at home, who can sacrifice for us at mass, but we have (saith he) an advocate Jesus Christ, who once offered up himself long ago: of which offering the efficacy and effect is for ever, so that it is needless to have such offerers.

WHAT meaneth Paul, when he saith, "They that serve at the altar, are partakers of the altar?" and so addeth; "So the Lord hath ordained, that they that preach the gospel, shall live by the gos|pel." Whereas he should have said, The Lord hath ordained, that they that sacrifice at mass, should live of their sacrificing, that there might be a living assigned to our sacrificers now, as was before Christ's coming to the Jewish priests. For now they have nothing to alledge for their living, as they that be preachers have. So that it appeareth, that the sacrificing priesthood is changed by God's ordinance into a preaching priesthood, and the sacrificing priesthood should cease utterly, saving inasmuch as all christian men are sacrificing priests.

THE supper of the Lord was instituted to pro|voke us to thanksgiving, for the offering which the Lord himself did offer for us, much rather than that our offerers should do there as they do. "Feed (saith Peter) as much as ye may the flock of Christ:" nay, rather let us sacrifice as much as we may for the flock of Christ. If the matter be as men now make it, I can never wonder enough, that Peter would or could forget this office of sacrificing, which at this day is in such a price and estimation, that to feed is almost nothing with many. If thou cease from feeding the flock, how shalt thou be taken? Truly catholic enough. But if thou cease from sacrificing and massing, how will that be taken? At the least, I warrant thee, thou shalt be called an heretic.

AND whence, I pray you, come these papistical judgments? Except perchance they think a man feedeth the flock in sacrificing for them: and then what needeth there any learned pastors? For no man is so foolish, but soon he may l••arn to sacrifice and mass it.

THUS I have taken the more pains to write, be|cause I refused to dispute, in consideration of my debility thereunto: that all men may know, how that I have so done not without great pains, hav••ng not any man to help me, as I have never before been debarred to have. O sir, you may chance

to live till you come to this age and weakness that I am of. I have spoken in my time before two kings more than once, two or three hours toge|ther, without interruption; but now that I may speak the truth, (by your leave) I could not be suffered to declare my mind before you, no, not by the space of a quarter of an hour, without revi|lings, checks, rebukes, taunts, such as I have not felt the like, in such an audience, all my life long. Surely it cannot but be an heinous offence that I have given. But what was it? Forsooth, I had spoken of the four marrow-bones of the mass. The which kind of speaking I never read to be a sin against the Holy Ghost.

I could not be allowed to shew what I meant by my metaphor: but, sir, now by your favour I will tell you what I mean.

THE first is the popish consecration, which hath been called a God's body-making.

THE second is transubstantiation.

THE third is massal oblation.

THE fourth, adoration.

THESE chief and principal portions parts, and points, incident to the mass, and most esteemed in the same, I call the marrow-bones of the mass; which indeed you, by force, might, and violence intrude, in sound of words, in some of the scrip|ture, with racking and cramping, injuring and wronging the same: but else, indeed, plain out of the scripture, as I am thoroughly persuaded, altho' in disputation I now could do nothing to persuade the same to others, being both unapt to study, and also to make a shew of my former study in such readiness as should be requisite to the same.

I have heard much talk of Dr. Weston in my time: but I never knew your person to my know|ledge, till I came before you as the queen's majesty's commissioner. I pray God send you so right judgment, as I perceive you have great wit, great learning, with many other qualities. God give you gra••e ever well to use them, and ever to have in remembrance, that he that dwelleth on high, locketh on the low things on the earth; and that there is no council against the Lord; and also that this world hath been, and yet is a tottering world. And again, that though we must obey the princes, yet that hath this limitation, namely, in the Lord. For whosoever obey them against the Lord, they be the most pernicious to them, and the greatest adversaries that they have: for they so procure God's vengeance upon them, if God be the only ruler of things.

THERE are some so corrupt in mind, the truth being taken from them, that they think gain to be godliness; great learned men, and yet men of no learning, but of railing, and raging, about ques|tions, and strife of words. I call them men of no learning, because they know not Christ, how much else soever they know. And on this sort we are wont to call great learned clerks, being ignorant of Christ, unlearned men; for it is nothing but plain ignorance, to know any thing without Christ: whereas whoso knoweth Christ, the same hath knowledge enough, although in other knowledge he be to seek. The apostle Paul confesseth of himself to the Corinthians, that he did know no|thing but Jesus Christ crucified. Many men babble many things of Christ, who yet know not Christ; but, pretending Christ, do craftily colour and darken his glory. Depart from such men, saith the apostle Paul to Timothy.

IT is not out of the way to remember what St. Augustine saith. The place where, I do not now remember, except it be against the epistles of Peti|lian; "Whosoever (saith he) teacheth any thing necessarily to be believed, which is not contained m the Old and New Testament, the same is ac|cursed." Oh! beware of this curse, if you be wise. I am much deceived if Basilius have not such like words; "Whatsoever (saith he) is besides the holy scripture, if the same be taught as necessarily to be believed, that is sin." Oh, therefore, take heed of this sin!

THERE are some that speak many false things more probable, and more like to the truth, than the truth itself. Therefore Paul giveth a watch-word▪ "Let no man (saith he) deceive you with probability and persuasions of words." But what mean you, saith one, by this talk so far from the

matter? Well, I hope, good masters, you will suffer an old man a little to play the child, and to speak one thing twice. O Lord God! you have changed the most holy communion into a private action; and you deny to the laity the Lord's cup, contrary to Christ's commandment: and you do blemish the annunciation of the Lord's death till he come: for you have changed the common prayer, called the divine service, with the administration of the sacraments, from the vulgar and known language, into a strange tongue, contrary to the will of the Lord revealed in his word. God open the door of your heart, to see the things you should see herein. I would fain obey my sovereign as any in this realm: but in these things I can never do it with an upright conscience. God be merciful unto us. Amen.

WEST.

Then you refuse to dispute? Will you here then subscribe?

LAT.

No, good master, I pray be good to an old man. You may, if it please God, be once old, as I am: you may come to this age, and to this debility.

WEST.

You said upon Saturday last, that you could not find the mass, nor the marrow-bones thereof, in your book: but we will find a mass in that book.

LAT.

No, good Mr. Doctor, you cannot.

WEST.

What find you then there?

LAT.

A communion.

WEST.

Which communion, the first or the last?

LAT.

I find no great diversity in them; they are one supper of the Lord: but I like the last very well.

WEST.

The first you do not approve of?

LAT.

I do not well remember wherein they differ.

WEST.

Then cak•• bread, and loaf bread, are all one? You call it the supper of the Lord; but you are deceived in that; for they had done the supper before, and therefore the scripture saith, "After they had supped." St. Paul findeth fault with the Corinthians, that some of them were drunken at this supper; and you know, no man can be drunken at your communion.

LAT.

The first was called [Coena Judaica] "The Jewish Supper," when they did eat the paschal lamb together; the other was called [Coena Dominica] "The Lord's Supper."

WEST.

That is false; for Chrysostom denieth that. St. Ambrose on the x. chap. of the 1 Cor. saith, "The mystery of the sacrament, given as they were at supper, is not the supper of the Lord." Also Gregory Nazianzene saith the same. And the first supper was called Agapee: can you tell what that is?

LAT.

I understand not Greek: yet I think it meaneth charity.

WEST.

Mr. Opponent begin.

SMITH.

Because I perceive that this charge is laid upon my neck to dispute with you; to the end that the same may go forward after a right manner and order, I will propose three questions, so as they are put forth unto me. And first I ask this question of you, although the same indeed ought not to be called in question: but such is the condition of the church, that it is always vexed of the wicked. I ask, I say, whether Christ's body be really in the sacrament?

LAT.

I trust I have obtained of Mr. Prolocutor, that no man shall exact that thing of me which is not in me. And I am sorry that this worshipful audience should be deceived of their expectation for my sake. I have given up my mind in writing to Mr. Prolocutor.

SMITH.

Whatsoever you have given up, it shall be registered among the acts.

LAT.

Disputation requireth a good memory; my memory is gone, and marvellously weakened, and never the better, I think, for the prison.

WEST.

How long have you been in prison?

LAT.

Three quarters of this year.

WEST.

And I was in prison six years.

LAT.

The more pity, sir.

WEST.

How long have you been of this opi|nion?

LAT.

It is not long, sir, that I have been of this opinion.

WEST.

The time hath been when you said mass full devoutly.

LAT.

Yes, I crave God's mercy heartily for it.

WEST.

Where learned you this new fangleness.

LAT.

I have long sought for the truth in this matter of the sacrament, and have hot been of this mind more than seven years: and my lord of Can|terbury's book hath especially confirmed my judge|ment herein. If I could remember all therein con|tained, I would not fear to answer any man in this matter.

TRESH.

There are in that book six hundred errors.

WEST.

You were once a Lutheran.

LAT.

No, I was a papist: for I never could perceive how Luther could defend his opinion with|out transubstantiation. The Tygurines once did write a book against Luther, and I often desired God, that he might live so long as to answer them.

WEST.

Luther in his book, "Of private mass," says, "That the devil reasoned with him, and per|suaded him that the mass was not good," fol. 14. So that Luther said mass, and the devil dissuaded him from it.

LAT.

I do not take in hand to defend Luther's sayings or doings. If he were here, he would de|fend himself well enough. I told you before that I am not meet for disputations. I pray you, read mine answer, wherein I have declared my faith.

WEST.

Do you believe this, as you have written?

LAT.

Yes.

WEST.

Then have you no faith.

LAT.

Then would I be sorry, sir.

TRESH.

I•• is written, "Except you shall eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink his blood, ye shall have no life in you." Which when the Ca|pernaites, and many of Christ's disciples heard, they said, "This is a hard saying," &c. Now that the truth may the better appear, here I ask of you. Whether Christ, speaking these words, did mean of his flesh to be eaten with the mouth, or of the spi|ritual eating of the same?

LAT.

I answer (as Augustine understandeth) that Christ meant of the spiritual eating of his flesh.

TRESH.

Of what flesh meant Christ, his true flesh, or no?

LAT.

Of his true flesh, spiritually to be eaten in the supper by faith, and not corporally.

TRESH.

Of what flesh meant the Capernaites?

LAT.

Of his true flesh also; but to be eaten with the mouth.

TRESH.

They, as you confess, did mean his true flesh to be eaten with the mouth. And Christ also (as I shall prove) did speak of the receiving of his flesh with the mouth.

ERGO, They both did understand it of the eating of one thing, which is done by the mouth of the body.

LAT.

I say, Christ meant not of the bodily mouth; but of the mouth of the spirit, mind, and heart.

TRESH.

I prove the contrary, that Christ under|standeth it of the eating with the bodily mouth. For whereas custom is a good interpreter of things,

and whereas the acts put in practice by Christ, do certainly declare those things which he first spake; Christ's deeds in his supper, where he gave his body to be taken with the mouth, together with the custom which hath been ever since the time of that eating which is done with the mouth, doth evident|ly intimate that Christ did understand his words, here cited by me, out of the vi. of John, of the eat|ing with the mouth.

LAT.

He gave not his body to be received with the mouth, but he gave the sacrament of his body to be received with the mouth: he gave the sacra|ment to the mouth, his body to the mind.

TRESH.

But my reason doth conclude, That Christ spoke concerning his flesh to be received with the corporal mouth: for otherwise (which God forbid) he had been a deceiver, and had been offensive to the Capernaites and his disciples, if he had not meant in this point as they thought he meant: for if he had thought as you do feign, it had been an easy matter for him to have said, Ye shall not eat my flesh with your mouth, but the sa|crament of my flesh; that is to say, Ye shall receive with your mouth not the thing itself, but the figure of the thing, and thus he might have satisfied them: but so he said not, but continued in the truth of his words, as he was wont. Therefore Christ meant the self same thing that the Capernaites did, I mean concerning the thing itself to be received with the mouth, namely, that his true flesh is truly to be eaten with the mouth. Moreover, forasmuch as you do expound [Corpus Christi] "The body of Christ," [Sacramentum corporis Christi,] "The sacra|ment of the body of Christ," and hereby do suppose that we obtain but a spiritual union, or union of the mind between us and Christ, plain it is, that you are deceived in this thing, and do err from the mind of the fathers: for St. Hilary affirmeth, by plain and express words, that we are corporally and carnally joined together. To be short, I myself have heard you preaching at Greenwich before king Henry the eighth, where you did openly affirm, That no christian man ought to doubt of the true and real presence of Christ's body in the sacrament, forasmuch as he had the word of scripture on his side, "This is my body," whereby he might be confirmed. But now there is the same truth; the word of scripture hath the self same thing which it then had; therefore why do you deny at this pre|sent that, whereof it was not lawful once to doubt before when you taught it?

LAT.

Will you give me leave to speak?

TRESH.

Speak Latin, I pray you, for you can do it, if you will, readily enough.

LAT.

I cannot speak Latin so long and so large|ly. Mr. Prolocutor hath given me leave to speak English. And as for the words of Hilary, and other fathers, I think they make not so much for you. But he that shall answer the doctors, had not need to be in my case, but should have them in readiness, and know their purpose. Melancthon saith, If the doctors had foreseen that they should have been so taken in this controversy, they would have written more plainly.

SMITH.

I will reduce the words of Hilary into the form of a syllogism.

(1) SUCH as is the unity of our flesh with Christ's flesh, such, yea greater, is the unity of Christ with the Father.

(2) BUT the unity of Christ's flesh with our's, is true and substantial.

(3) ERGO, The unity of Christ with the Father is true and substantial.

LAT.

I understand you not.

SEA••ON.

I know your learning well enough, and how subtle you be: I will use a few words with you, and that out of Cyprian on the Lord's supper. The Old Testament doth forbid the drinking of blood; the New Testament doth command the drinking and tasting of blood: but where doth it command the drinking of blood?

LAT.

In these words, "Drink ye all of this."

SEAT.

Then we taste true ••lood.

LAT.

We do taste true blood spiritually; and this is enough.

SEAT.

Nay, the Old and New Testaments in this do differ; for the one doth command, and the other doth forbid to drink blood.

LAT.

It is true as touching the matter, but not as touching the manner of the thing.

SEAT.

Then there is no difference between the drinking of blood in the New Testament, and that of the Old; for they also drank spiritually.

LAT.

And we drink spiritually also, but a more precious blood.

WEST.

Augustine upon the xlv. Psalm, saith, "Drink boldly the blood which ye have poured out."

ERGO, It is blood.

LAT.

I never denied it, nor ever will I go from it, but that we drink the very blood of Christ in|deed, but spiritually: for the same St. Augustine saith, "Believe, and thou hast eaten."

WEST.

Nay, to believe, is not to drink or eat. You will not say, I pledge you, when I say, I be|lieve in God.

LAT.

Is not [Manducare] "To eat," in your learning put for [Credere] "To believe?"

WEST.

I remember, my lord chancellor de|manded Mr. Hooper to answer these questions, Whether [Edere] "To eat," were [Credere] "To believe," and [Altare] "An altar," were Christ in all the scripture, &c. And he answered, Yes.

THEN said my lord chancellor, "We have an altar, of which it is not lawful to eat," is as much as to say, "We have a Christ, in whom we may not believe."

TRESH.

"Believe, and thou hast eaten," is spoken of the spiritual eating.

LAT.

It is true, I do allow your saying; I take it so also▪

WEST.

We are commanded to drink blood in the new law.

ERGO, It is very blood.

LAT.

We drink blood, so as appertaineth to us to drink to our comfort, in sacramental wine. We drink blood sacramentally: he gave us his blood to drink spiritually; he went about to shew, that as certainly as we drink wine, so certainly we drink his blood spiritually.

WEST.

Do not you seem to be a papist, which do bring in new words, not found in the scripture? Where find you that, "sacramentally," in God's book?

LAT.

It is necessarily gathered from scripture.

WEST.

The Old Testament doth forbid the tasting of blood, but the New doth command it.

LAT.

It is true, not as touching the thing, but as touching the manner thereof.

WEST.

Hear, ye people, this is the argument:

THAT which was forbidden in the Old Testa|ment, is commanded in the New.

To drink blood was forbidden in the Old Testa|ment, and commanded in the New.

[This argument, because the major thereof is not universal, is not formal, and may well be retorted against Weston thus.

No natural or moral thing, forbidden materially in the Old Testament, is commanded in the New.

To drink man's natural blood is forbidden ma|terially in the Old Testament.

ERGO, To drink man's natural blood materially is not commanded in the New.]

LAT.

It is commanded spiritually to be drunk; I grant it is blood drunk in the New Testament, but we receive it spiritually.

PYE.

It was not forbidden spiritually in the old law.

LAT.

The substance of blood is drunk, but not in one manner.

PYE.

It doth not require the same manner of drinking.

LAT.

It is the same thing, not the same manner. I have no more to say.

WEST.

[Here Weston cited the place of Chry|sostom, of Judas's treason:]

"O the madness of Judas! He made bargain with the Jews for thirty pence to sell Christ, and Christ offered him his blood which he sold."

LAT.

I grant he offered to Judas his blood which he sold, but in a sacrament.

WEST.

Because you can defend your doctors no better, you shall see what worshipful men ye hang upon, and one that hath been of your mind shall dispute with you. Mr. Cartwright, I pray you, dispute.

CART.

Reverend father, because it is given me in commandment to dispute with you, I will do it gladly. But first understand, before we go any further, that I was in the same error that you are in: but I am sorry for it, and do confess myself to have erred: I acknowledge mine offence, and I wish and desire God that you may also repent with me.

LAT.

Will you give me leave to tell what hath caused Mr. Doctor here to recant? It is merely "The pain of the law," which hath brought you back, and converted you, and many more; which hindereth many from confessing God. And this is a great argument; there are few here can dis|solve it.

CART.

That is not my case, but I will make you this short argument, by which I was converted from mine errors.

(1) IF the true body of Christ be not really in the sacrament, all the whole church hath erred from the apostle's time.

(2) BUT Christ would not suffer his church to err.

(3) ERGO, It is the true body of Christ.

LAT.

The Popish church hath erred, and doth err. I think for the space of six or seven hundred years, there was no mention made of any eating but spiritually: for, before these five hundred years, the church did ever confess a spiritual eating. But the Romish church begat the error of transubstan|tiation. My lord of Canterbury's book handleth that very well, and by him I could answer you if I had him.

CART.

Linus and all the rest do confess the body of Christ to be in the sacrament: and St. Au|gustine also upon the 99th Psalm, upon this place, "Worship his footstool," &c. granteth that it is to be worshipped.

LAT.

We do worship Christ in the heavens, and we do worship him in the sacrament: but the mas|sing worship is not to be used.

SMITH.

Do you think that Cyril was of the an|cient church?

LAT.

I do think so.

SMITH.

He saith, That Christ dwelleth in us corporally: these are Cyril's words of the mystical benediction.

LAT.

That [corporally] hath another under|standing, than you do grossly take it.

CYRIL saith, that Christ dwelleth corporally in us, but he saith not that Christ dwelleth corporally in the bread. Which dwelling of Christ in us, is as our dwelling is also in Christ, not local or corporal, but spiritual and heavenly. Corporally therefore is to be taken in the same sense, as St. Paul saith the fulness of divinity to dwell in Christ corporally, that is, not lightly nor accidentally, but perfectly and substantially, with all his virtue and power, &c. And so dwelleth Christ corporally in us also.

[HERE Smith repeated these words of Cyril, "By the communicating of the body of Christ, Christ dwelleth in us corporally.]

LAT.

The solution of this is in my lord of Can|terbury's book.

SMITH.

Cyril was no papist, and yet these are his words, "Christ dwelleth in us corporally?" But you say, he dwelleth in us spiritually.

LAT.

I say both, that he dwelleth in us corpo|rally and spiritually, according to his meaning: spiritually by faith, and corporally by taking our flesh upon him. For I remember, I have read this in my lord of Canterbury's book.

WEST.

Because your learning is let out to farm, and shut up in my lord of Canterbury's book, I will recite unto you a place of St. Ambrose, con|cerning the preparation for the mass, where he saith, "We see the chief priest coming unto us, and offering blood," &c.

LIKEWISE both Augustine in the 38th Psal. and Chrysostom concerning the incomprehensible na|ture of God, vol. 3. say, "Not only men," &c.

LAT.

I am not ashamed to acknowledge mine ignorance, and these testimonies are more than I can bear away.

WEST.

Then you must leave some behind you for lack of carriage.

LAT.

But as to Chrysostom, he hath many figurative speeches, and emphatical phrases in many places; as in that which you have now recited: but he saith not, For the quick and the dead; he taketh the celebration for the sacrifice.

WEST.

You shall hear Chrysostom again, upon the 9th chapter of the Acts, "What say you? The host in the hands of the priest," &c. He doth not call it a cup of wine.

LAT.

You have mine answer there in a paper; and yet he calleth it not a propitiatory sacrifice.

WEST.

You shall hear it to be so: and I bring another place of Chrysostom out of the same trea|tise, "It was not rashly instituted by the apostles," &c.

LAT.

He is too precious a thing for us to of|fer; he offereth himself.

WEST.

Here in another place of Chrysostom to the people of Antioch, and also to the Phillip|pians, he saith, "There should be a memory and sacrifice for the dead."

LAT.

I do say, that the holy communion bear|eth the name of a sacrifice, because it is a sacrifice memorative.

WEST.

What say you to the sacrifice of the dead?

LAT.

I say that it needeth not, and it availeth not.

WEST.

Augustine in his Enchiridon, saith, "We must not deny that the souls of the dead are relieved by the devotion of their friends who are living, when the sacrifice of the Mediator is offer|ed for them." Where he proveth the verity of Christ's body, and praying for the dead. And it is said, that the same Augustine said mass for his mother.

LAT.

But that mass was not like your's, which thing doth manifestly appear in his writings, which are against it in every place. And Augustine is a reasonable man, he requireth to be believed no further than he bringeth scripture for his proof, and agreeth with God's word.

WEST.

In the same place he proveth a propitia|tory sacrifice, and that upon an altar, and no oy|ster-board.

LAT.

It is the Lord's table, and no oyster-board. It may be called an altar, and so the doctors call it in many places: but there is no propitiatory sacrifice, but only Christ. The doctors might be deceived in some points, though not in all things; I believe them when they say well.

COLE.

Is it not a shame for an old man to lye? You say, you are of the old fathers' faith where they say well, and yet you are not.

LAT.

I am of their faith when they say well; I refer myself to my lord of Canterbury's book wholly herein.

SMITH.

Then you are not of Chrysostom's faith, nor of St. Augustine's faith.

LAT.

I have said, when they say well, and bring scripture, I am of their faith; and further Augustine requireth not to be believed.

WEST.

Origen, Hom. xiii, upon Leviticus.

LAT.

I have but one word to say; The sacra|mental bread is called a propitiation, because it is a sacrament of the propitiation. What is your vo|cation?

WEST.

My vocation is at this time to dispute; otherwise I am a priest, and my vocation is to offer.

LAT.

Where have you that authority given you to offer.

WEST.

[Hoc facite] "Do this," for [facite] in that place is taken for [offerte] that is, "offer ye."

LAT.

Is [facere] nothing but [sacrificare] "to sacrifice?" Why, then no man must receive the sacrament, but priests only: for there may none other offer but priests.

ERGO, Th•••••• may none receive but priests.

WEST.

Your argument is to be denied.

LAT.

Did Christ then offer himself at his sup|per?

PYE.

Yes, he offered himself for the whole world.

LAT.

Then if this word [facite] "do ye," sig|nify [sacrificate] "sacrifice ye," it followeth, as I said, that none but priests only ought to receive the sacrament, to whom it is only lawful to sacrifice: and where find you that, I pray you?

WEST.

Forty years ago, whither could you have gone to have found your doctrine?

LAT.

The more cause we have to thank God, that hath now sent the light into the world▪

WEST.

The light▪ Nay, light and lewd preachers; for you could not tell what you might have. Ye altered and changed so often your communions and altars, and all for this one end, to spoil and rob the church.

LAT.

These things pertain nothing to me, I must not answer other men's deeds, but only for mine own.

WEST.

Well, Mr. Latimer, this is our intent, to wish you well, and to exhort you to come to yourself, and remember, that without Noah's ark there is no health. Remember what they have been, that were the beginners of your doctrine: none but a few flying apostates, running out of Germany for fear of the faggot. Remember what they have been who have set forth the same in this realm: a sort of fling brains and light heads, who were never constant in one thing, as it was to be seen in the turning of the table, where like a sort of apes they could not tell which way to turn their tails, looking one day west, and another day east; one that way, and another this way. They will be like (they say) to the apostles, they will have no churches; a hovel is good enough for them. They come to the communion with no reverence. They get them a tankard, and one saith, I drink, and I am thankful; the more joy of thee, saith another. And in them was it true that Hilary saith, "We make every year and every month a faith." A runagate Scot did take away the adoration or worshipping of Christ in the sacra|ment, by whose procurement that heresy was put into the last communion-book; so much prevailed that one man's authority at that time. You never agreed with the Tygurines, or Germans, or with the church, or with yourself. Your stubbornness cometh of a vain glory, which is to no purpose: for it will do you no good when a faggot is in your beard. And we see all, by your own confession▪ how little cause you have to be stubborn, for your learning is in feoffers hold. The queen's grace is merciful, if you will turn.

LAT.

You shall have no hope in me to turn. I pray for the queen daily, even from the bottom of my heart, that she may turn from this reli|gion.

WEST.

Here you all see the weakness of he|resy against the truth: he denieth all truth, and all the old fathers.

HERE too our readers may see whether this boasting prolocutor obtained a glorious victory or not, over his insulted opponents, and how slender his pretensions for a triumph on that account. But no wonder he should claim the victory, disputing as he did, not without his tippling-cup at his el|bow; nor without frequent smiles from those who applauded the strength of his arguments; especially at that time, in the course of Dr. Ridley's disputa|tion, when Weston, holding the cup, or beer-pot, in his hand, said to the opponent, "Urge this, urge this; for this makes for us;" which words occasioned much laughter among the auditors.

THUS we have given a full account of those dis|putations, that were maintained against three wor|thy confessors and martyrs of the Lord, wherein may be seen the disorderly usage of the university men, their unmannerly deportment in the divinity school, the tumult of a rude multitude, the passion, fierceness, and interruption of the grave doctors, the full ground of the reasonings, the censure of the partial judges, the foul language, and inde|cent railing of the prolocutor, with his vain blast of triumph at the conclusion of each debate, by which he shewed himself both actor, moderator, and judge. We need not wonder then that this victorious conqueror, having the law in his own hands, should say of himself, Vic•••• veritas, though he said not one true word, nor ever made a true conclu|sion, almost throughout the several disputations.

THE day after these were closed, being the 19th of April, it happened that Mr. Harpsfield was called upon, to dispute for his form, to be made a doctor of divinity; on which occasion Dr. Cranmer was again brought forth, and permitted, among the rest, to deliver an argument or two in defence of his cause, as the sequel will shew.

A DISPUTATION with Mr. HARPSFIELD, BAT|CHELOR of DIVINITY, when answering for his FORM, to be made DOCTOR.

HARPS.

I Am not ignorant what a weighty matter it is to intreat of the whole order and trade of the scriptures: and most hard it is too, in the great con••••ntion of religion, to shew the ready way whereby the scriptures may best be understood; for the often reading of them doth not bring the true understanding of them. What other thing is there then? Verily this is the ready way, not to follow our own heads and senses, but to give over our judgment unto the holy catholic church, who hath of old years the truth, and al|ways delivered the same to her posterity: but if the often reading of scriptures, and ever so pain|ful comparing of places, should bring the true understanding, then divers heretics might prevail even against whole general councils. The Jews did greatly brag of their knowledge of the law, and of the Saviour that they waited for. But what availed it them? Notwithstanding, I know right well, that divers places of the scripture do much warn us of the often reading of the same, and what fruit doth thereby follow; as, "Search the scriptures, for they do bear witness of me," &c. "The law of the Lord is pure, able to turn souls." And that saying of St. Paul, "All scrip|ture inspired from above, doth make that a man may be instructed to all good works." Howbeit, doth the law of the Jews convert their souls? Are they by reading instructed to every good work? The letter of the Old Testament is the same that we have.

THE heretics also have ever had the same scrip|tures, which we have that be catholics. But they are served as Tantalus that the poets speak of, who, in the plenty of things to eat and drink, is said to be op|pressed with hunger and thirst. The swifter that men 〈◊〉〈◊〉 seek the scriptures without the catholic church, the deeper they fall, and find hell for their labour St. Cyprian, never swerving from the catholic church, saith, "He that doth not acknowledge the church to be his mother, shall not have God to his Father." Therefore it is true divinity to be wise with the church, where Christ saith, "Unless ye eat my flesh, and drink my blood, ye have no life in you."

IF he had 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of only eating bread and drink|ing wine, no••••ing had been more pleasant to the Capernaites, neither would they have forsaken him. The 〈…〉〈…〉 nothing to the•• that do so take it. 〈…〉〈…〉 Capernaites did imagine

Christ to be given in such sort as he lived. But Christ spake high things; not that they should have him as flesh in the market▪ but to consider his presence with the Spirit, under the forms where|by it is given. As there is an alteration of bodies by courses and times of ages, so there is no less variety in eating of bodies.

THESE things which I have recited briefly, Mr. Harpsfield did set out with many more words; and hereupon Dr. Weston disputed against him.

WEST.

Christ's real body is not in the sacra|ment.

ERGO, You are deceived.

HARPS.

I deny the antecedent.

WEST.

John xvi. "I speak the truth unto you: it behoveth me that I go away from you. For un|less I do depart, the comforter cannot come," &c.

I will make this argument.

(1) Christ is so gone away, as he did send the Holy Ghost.

(2) BUT the Holy Ghost did verily come into the world.

(3) ERGO, Christ is verily gone.

HARPS.

He is verily gone, and yet remaineth here.

WEST.

St. Augustine saith, that these words, "I will be with you even to the end of the world," are accomplished, [secundum majestatem] "according to his majesty:" but [secundum pr••sentiam carnis non est hic] "By the presence of his flesh he is not here." The church hath him not in flesh, but by belief.

HARPS.

We must diligently weigh that there are two natures in Christ; the divine nature, and human nature. The divine nature is of such sort, that it cannot chuse but be in all places. The hu|man nature is not such, that of force it must be in all places, although it be in divers after a divers manner. So where the doctors do intreat of his presence by majesty, they do commend the majesty of the divine nature, not to hinder us of the natural presence here in the sacrament.

WEST.

He saith further, "Ye shall not have me always with you," is to be understood in the flesh.

HARPS.

The presence of the flesh is to be consi|dered, that he is not here as he was wont to live in conversation with them, to be seen, talked withal, or in such sort as a man may give him any thing: after that sort he is not present.

WEST.

But what say you to this of Augustine, "He is not here?

HARPS.

I do answer out of St. Augustine upon John, Tractat. 25, upon these words, "I go to the Father, ye shall not see me;" that is, "such as I am now." Therefore, I do deny the manner of his presence.

WEST.

I will overthrow St. Augustine with St. Augustine, who saith this also, "How may a man hold Christ? send thy faith, and thou holdest him."

So he sheweth, that by sending our faith, we do hold Christ.

HARPS.

Indeed no man holdeth Christ, unless he believe in him; but it is another thing to have Christ merciful and favourable unto us, and to have him present in the sacrament.

THERE St. Augustine speaketh of holding him by faith, as he is favorable unto us.

WEST.

Nay, he speaketh there how the fathers had him in the flesh, and teacheth that we have him not so in the flesh, as they had him a long time, saying, "Your fathers did hold Christ pre|sent in the flesh: do you hold him in your heart?" What words can be more plain? Further he saith, "He is gone and is not here: he hath left us, and yet hath not forsaken us. He is here in ma|jesty, and gone touching the flesh."

HARPS.

I do understand Augustine thus, that Christ is here in his flesh to them that receive him worthily: to such as do not worthily receive him, to them he is not present in the flesh. I judge, St. Augustine meaneth so. We have him, and we have him not. We have him in receiving him worthily, otherwise not.

WEST.

I will prosecute another argument. Cy|ril doth say, "By the majesty of his divinity he is ever here, but the presence of his flesh hath he taken away."

HARPS.

The sense of Cyril is thus to be under|stood. The most true flesh of Christ is at the right hand of the Father. Thus the fathers taught, and so they believed. Thus said Cyril; thus said Au|gustine: and because this is the foundation of our faith, they did oftentimes teach it. Therefore, when they prove this, (the body to be in heaven) they do not make against the presence in the sacra|ment.

So unless ye can plainly shew, that the fathers do directly say he is not in the sacrament, you make nothing against me: for I have shewed why the fathers so spake. They did teach the great differ|ence between the divine nature, and the human nature, as I have before said.

WEST.

I will then prove, that he is not in the sacrament. Vigilius against the heretic Eutiches, upon these words, "Ye shall not have me always with you," saith, "The Son of God, as touching his humanity, is gone from us; by his divinity he remaineth with us." And the same Vigilius in his fourth book saith, "He that is in heaven, is not on earth;" speaking of Christ.

HARPS.

I will shew you the reason of these words. The heretic Eutiches did believe that the divine nature of Christ was fastened on the cross, and believed that Christ had no natural body. To this Vigilius said, That the human nature was ta|ken up and ascended, which could not so have done, unless he had a body. This he said, not to take away the presence in the sacrament.

For what had he to refer this sentence to the sa|crament? He never did so much as dream of the sacrament.

WEST.

Cyril saith, "Although he be absent from us in body, yet are we governed by his Spi|rit."

HARPS.

By these words he gave us a chearful|ness to aspire upwards, seeking from thence our help. For as touching his conversation, he is not so in the sacrament as one meet to be lived withal. But let him not teach us, that he is not there to feed us: for after that sort he is there.

WEST.

You have satisfied me with your an|swers, in doing the same learnedly, and catholicly. But now to another argument.

(1) CHRIST is now so absent from the earth by his body, as he was absent from heaven when he lived here.

(2) BUT when he did live bodily on earth, the same natural body was out of heaven.

(3) ERGO, Now whilst this natural body is in heaven, it is not on the earth.

HARPS.

I deny your major.

WEST.

These are Fulgentius's words, touch|ing his human substance: "He was absent from heaven, when he descended from heaven; and touching the same substance, now he is in heaven, he is not on the earth: but concerning the divine nature, he never forsook either heaven or earth."

AFTER these words, not waiting Harpsfield's answer, he offered Mr Cranmer to dispute; who began in this wise.

CRAN.

I have heard you right learnedly and eloquently treat of the dignity of the scripture, which I do commend and wonder thereat. But whereas you refer the true sense and judgment of the scriptures to the catholic church, you are herein much deceived; especially, since, under the name of the church, you appoint such judges as have

judged corruptly, and contrary to the true sense of scripture. I wonder, likewise, why you attribute so little to the diligent reading the scriptures, and comparing of passages, seeing the scriptures do so much commend the same, in divers places, as also in those which you yourself have already al|ledged. And as touching your opinion of these questions, it seemeth to me neither to have any ground of the word of God, nor of the primitive church. And, to say the truth, the schoolmen have spoken differently of them, nor do they agree concerning them among themselves. Wherefore, minding here to shew my judgment also, I must first desire you to answer a few questions; which being done, we shall the better proceed in our dis|putation. Moreover I must desire you to bear with my mistake•• in the Latin tongue, which, through long disuse, is not now so familiar with me as it hath been. My first question, having chiefly a regard to the truth above all things, is this: "How Christ's body is in the sacrament, according to your mind or determination?"

TO which a certain doctor answered; He is there as touching his substance, but not after the manner of his substance.

HARPS.

He is there in such sort or manner, as he may be eaten.

CRAN.

My next question is, "Whether he hath his quantity and qualities, form, figure, and such like properties?"

HARPS.

Are these your questions? I may like|wise ask you, "When Christ passed through the virgin's womb, A•• ruperit 〈◊〉〈◊〉?

UPON these questions there were various opini|ons. A buzzing was heard among the doctors, who knew not what to answer. Some thought one way; some another; nor could these learned doctors agree on this matter. After they had contended a 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Dr. Cranmer said, You put off questions with ques|tions. I ask one thing, and you answer another. Again I ask, "Whether he have those properties, which he had on earth?"

TRE••H.

No, he hath not all the quantities and qualities belonging to a body.

SMITH.

Stop, Mr. Tresham; I will answer you, doctor, in the words of Damascene, "The bread is transformed," &c. But if thou wilt inquire how? "The manner is impossible to be described."

[THEN two or three other disputants endeavoured to answer this question, but somewhat doubtfully. A great hurly burly was among them, some affirm|ing one thing, some another.]

CRAN.

Do you appoint me a body, and cannot tell what manner of body? Either he hath not his quantity, or else you are ignorant how to an|swer it.

HARPS.

These are vain questions, and it is not meet to spend the time on them.

WEST.

Hear me a-while: Lanfrancus, some|time bishop of Canterbury, doth answer in this wi••e unto Berengarius upon such like questions, Salubri|ter credi possunt, fideliter qu••ri n••n possunt; i. e. "They may be well believed, but never faithfully asked."

CRAN.

If you think good to answer it, some of you declare it.

HARPS.

He is there as pleaseth him to be there.

CRAN.

I would be contented with that answer, if that your appointing a carnal presence had not driven me of necessity to have inquired for disputa|tion's sake, how you place him there, since you will have a natural body.

[Again he was answered by several speaking at the same time; whereupon Mr. Ward, a great ••o|phi••t••••▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not fully answered, did declare 〈…〉〈…〉▪ how learnedly▪ and truly▪ I cannot tel••; nor, I think, he himself, nor yet the best 〈…〉〈…〉▪ for it has been said since, that 〈◊〉〈◊〉, far better learned, could by no means perceive to what end his discourse tended. Indeed he told a formal ta••e about quan••um & 〈◊〉〈◊〉; and were we to rehearse the s••m of his words, our readers would not be one ••ot the wi••e••.]

WEST.

But I say▪ Christ's body was passible and not passible at one instant.

SEATON.

You may ask as well other questions, how he is in heaven? whether he sit or stand? and whether he be there as he lived here?

CRAN.

You yourself, by putting a natural pre|sence, do force me to the question▪ "How he is here?" Therefore next I do ask this question, "Whether good and evil men do eat the body in the sacrament?"

HARPS.

Yes, they do so, even as the sun doth shine upon kings palaces, and on dung-heaps.

CRAN.

Then do I inquire, "〈◊〉〈◊〉 long Christ tarrieth in the eater?"

HARPS.

These are curious questions, not pro|per to be asked.

CRAN.

I have taken them out of your schools and schoolmen, which you yourselves do most use: and there also do I learn to ask, "How far he goeth into the body?"

HARPS.

We know that the body of Christ is received to nourish the whole man, both body and soul.

CRAN.

How long doth he abide in the body?

SEATON.

St. Augustine saith, our flesh goeth into his flesh. But after he is once received into the stomach, it maketh no matter for us to know how far he doth pierce, or whether he is conveyed.

[H••a•• Mr. Tresham and one Mr. London an|swered, that Christ being given there under such form and quantity as pleased him▪ it was not to be inquired of his tarrying, or of his descending into the body]

HARPS.

You were wont to lay to our charge, that we added to the scripture▪ saving always, that we should fetch the truth out of the scripture, and now you yourself bring questions out of the school|men, which you have disallowed in us.

CRAN.

I say, that I am constrained to ask these questions, because of this carnal presence which you imagine: and yet I know right well, that these questions are answered out of the scriptures. As to my last question, "How long he abideth in the body?" &c. the scripture answereth plainly, that Christ doth so long dwell in his people, as they are his members. Whereupon I make this argument.

(1) THEY which eat the flesh of Christ, do dwell in him, and he in them.

(2) BUT the wicked do not remain in him, nor he in them.

(3) ERGO, The wicked do not eat his flesh, nor drink his blood.

HARPS.

I will answer unto you as St. Augustine saith, not that howsoever a man do eat, he eateth the body; but he that eateth after a certain manner.

CRAN.

I cannot tell what manner ye appoint, but I am sure that evil men do not eat the flesh and drink the blood of Christ, as Christ speaketh in the sixth of John.

HARPS.

In the sixth of John, some things are to be referred to the godly, and some to the un|godly.

CRAN.

Whatsoever he doth treat of there con|cerning eating, doth pertain unto good men.

HARPS.

If you do mean only of the word [eating▪] it is true; if concerning the thing▪ it is not so; and if your meaning be of that which is contained under the word [eating,] it may be so taken, I grant.

CRAN.

Now to the argument: "He that eat|eth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, dwelleth in me▪ and I in him." Doth not this prove sufficient|ly, that evil men do not eat what the good do?

TRESH.

You must add, He that eateth worthily.

CRAN.

I speak of the same manner of eating that Christ speaketh of.

WEST.

Augustine, to the brethren in the wil|derness, says, "There is a certain manner of eat|ing." Augustine speaketh of two manners of eat|ing;

the one of them that eat worthily, the other that eat unworthily.

HARPS.

All things in the sixth of John are not to be referred to the sacrament; but to the receiving of Christ by faith. The fathers do agree, that there is no reference made to the supper of the Lord, be|fore they come unto, "The bread which I give, is my flesh," &c.

CRAN.

Nay, but manna is treated of both be|fore and after.

HARPS.

I will apply another answer. This ar|gument hath a kind of poison in it, which must be thus bitten away; that manna and this sacrament are not both one. Manna hath not its efficacy of itself, but of God.

CRAN.

But they that did take manna worthily, had fruit thereby: and so by your assertion, he that doth eat of the flesh of Christ worthily, hath his fruit by that. Therefore the like doth follow of them both, and so there should be no difference be|tween manna and this sacrament, by your reason.

HARPS.

When it is said, that they which did eat manna are dead, it is to be understood, that they did want the virtue of manna.

CRAN.

They then which do eat either of them worthily, do live.

HARPS.

They do live which do eat manna wor|thily, not by manna, but by the power of God given by it. The other which do eat this sacrament, do live by the same.

CRAN.

Christ did not treat of the cause, but the effect which followed: he doth not speak of the cause whereof the effect proceedeth.

HARPS.

I do say, the effects are divers, life, and death, which do follow the worthy and unwor|thy eating thereof.

CRAN.

Since you will needs have an addition to it, we must use both in manna and in the sacra|ment, indifferently, either worthily or unworthily. Christ spake absolutely of manna and of the supper; so that, after that absolute speaking of the supper, wicked men can in no wise eat the flesh of Christ, and drink his blood.

FURTHER, Augustine upon John, Tract. xxvi. upon these words, "He that eateth," &c. saith, "There is no such virtue in common meats, as in the Lord's body. For whoso eateth other meats, hath still hunger, and needeth to be satisfied daily, but he that doth eat the flesh of Christ, and drink|eth his blood, doth live forever." But you know, wicked men do not so.

ERGO. Wicked men do not receive.

HARPS.

St. Augustine meaneth. That he who eateth Christ's flesh, &c. after a certain manner, should live forever. Wicked men do eat, but not after that manner.

CRAN.

Only they which participate Christ are of the mystical body.

BUT evil men are not of the mystical body.

ERGO, They do not participate Christ.

WEST.

Your wonderful gentle behaviour and modesty, good Dr. Cranmer, is worthy much com|mendation: and that I may not deprive you of your right and just deserving, I give you most hearty thanks in my own name, and in the name of all my brethren, At which saying all the doctors gently put off their caps, Then Dr. Weston did oppose the respondent on this wise.

WEST.

Tertullian doth call the sacrament the sign and figure of the Lord.

ST. AUGUSTINE to Dardanus▪ saith, "The Lord did not stick to say, This is my body, when he gave a sign of his body."

BESIDES this, he giveth rules how to understand the scriptures, saying. If the scriptures seem to command some heinous thing, then it is figurative, as by example. "To eat the flesh, and drink the blood, is a tropical speech."

HARPS.

Tertullian did write in that place a|gainst Marcion an heretic, who denied Christ to have a true body, and said, he had only a fantastical body. He went about to shew, that we had Christ both in heaven and on earth; and though we have the true body in the sacrament, yet he would not go about so to confound him, as to say, that Christ was truly in the sacrament: for that heretic would have thereat rather marvelled, than believed it. Therefore he shewed him, that it was the figure of Christ: and a figure cannot be but of a thing that is, or hath been extant.

TO the text of Augustine, the church hath never taught the contrary. There is an outward thing in the sacrament, which sometimes hath sundry names. For it may be called a figure in this decla|ration, That body which is in the sacrament, is a figure of Christ dwelling in heaven.

TO the third, That which is wrought by Augus|tine, for example, about the understanding of the scriptures, is thus to be understood, as tending to a general manner of eating; so, To eat the flesh, and drink the blood, may be a figurative speech to ex|clude Anthropophagiam, that is, "The eating of man's flesh." The which is, when we eat man's flesh, cut in morsels, as we eat common meat; so as we neither have, nor eat Christ in the sacrament.

WEST.

I understand your short and learned an|swer, which doth sufficiently satisfy me. But now to the second question, which is of transubstantia|tion.

THE scripture calleth it bread.

ERGO, It is bread.

HARPS.

In the name of bread all is signified which we do eat.

WEST.

Theodoret, an ancient writer, in his first dialogue, says, "That Christ changed not the na|ture, but called it his body."

HARPS.

He doth there speak of a symbol, which is the outward form of the sacrament. He mean|eth, that doth tarry in its own nature.

WEST.

Theodoret also, in his second dialogue of those kinds of bread and wine, saith, "They go not out of their own nature, but they tarry in their own substance."

HARPS.

They are understood to be of the same substance, into which they are turned.

WEST.

But what say you to this? "They re|main in their former substance."

HARPS.

Symbola manent, that is, "The out|ward signs do tarry"

WEST.

But what is meant here by this word, [a symbol?]

HARPS.

The outward form or shape only of the nature.

WEST.

Then you cannot call them a substance.

HARPS.

Yes, sir, every thing hath a certain sub|stance in its kind.

WEST.

That is true, but accidents are not sub|stances in their kind.

HARPS.

They are something in their kind.

WEST.

Chrysostom to Caesarius the monk, saith, "Like as before it is consecrated, it is bread; so after it is consecrated, it is delivered from the name of bread, and is endued with the name of the Lord's body, whereas the nature doth remain."

HARPS.

Where read you this pla•••• I pray you?

WEST.

Here in Peter Martyr I find it; I have his book in my hand.

HARPS.

The author shall be of more credit, before I make so much of him as to frame an an|swer unto it.

WEST.

Indeed I know not well where he find|eth it. But Gelasius saith, That the nature of bread and wine do tarry.

HARPS.

What is that Gelasius?

WEST.

A bishop of Rome.

HARPS.

Then he allowed the mass.

WEST.

Yes, and oftentimes said it; and pur|gatory he also allowed, and prayer for the dead, relicks, and invocation to the saints.

HARPS.

Then he meant nothing against tran|substantiation.

WEST.

It doth appear so indeed. But Origen faith, "That the material bread doth tarry, and is conveyed into the privy, and is eaten of worms."

HARPS.

Tush, tush, this place appeartaineth unto holy bread.

WEST.

What, doth it appertain unto holy bread?

HARPS.

Yes, unto holy bread.

WEST.

By what means can you shew how this miraculous work bringeth Christ into the sacra|ment?

HARPS.

By the scriptures I prove it, which say, "This is my body."

WEST.

It doth rejoice us all not a little, that you have so well maintained the sound doctrine of the sacrament of the altar, wherein you have faith|fully cleaved to the catholic church▪ as a•• only stay of our religion: by which means you have proved yourself meet to be authorised further towards the practising of the scripture.

AND here, I do openly witness, that I do tho|roughly consent with you, and have, for disputation's sake only, brought these arguments against you, which you have right learnedly satisfied: and now all things being done, after our form and manner, we will end this disputation, saying, In oppositum est sacra theologia, In oppositum est, &c,

THUS have ye heard, in these disputations about the holy supper of the Lord, the reasons and arguments of the doctors, the answers and resolu|tions of the bishops, and the vanity of the prolocu|tor, triumphing before the victory, with, "The truth hath overcome;" who rather should have ex|claimed, "Power hath overcome;" as it happen|eth always, where the greater part overcometh the better. For else, if power had not helped the prolocutor more than truth, there had been a small victory. But so it is, where judgments be partial, there all things turn to victory, though it be ever so mean and simple, as in this disputation doth well appear. For, on the side of the opponent, scarce any argument was rightly framed in true mood and figure; neither could the respondents be permitted to speak for themselves; and when they answered any thing, it was condemned as soon as they began to speak. Besides, such disturbance, tumults, and confusion (more like a conspiration, than a fair de|bate, without form and order) were in the school, during the whole time, that the respondents could not utter their minds; neither would the opponents be satisfied with any reasons, which they constantly opposed with evasive delusions. Concerning the disturbance that prevailed, it will plainly appear, from what Bishop Ridley has reported in the fol|lowing narrative.

The REPORT and NARRATIVE of Dr. RIDLEY, some|time BISHOP of LONDON, concerning the irregular and misconducted DISPUTATION with him and his Fellow-Prisoners, BISHOP CRANMER and BISHOP LATIMER.

I Never yet, since I was born, saw or heard any thing done or handled more vainly and tumultuously, than the disputation which was with me in the schools at Oxford▪ Yea, verily▪ I could never have thought that it had been possible to have found amongst men accounted to be of knowledge and learning in this realm, am so brazen-fac••d and shameless, so disorderly and vainly to behave them|selves more like stage-players in interludes to set forth a pageant, than to grave divines in schools to dispute. The s••rbonicle clamours (which at Paris I have seen in ti••es past, when popery most reigned) might be worthily thought (in comparison of these ostentatious proceedings) to have had much modesty. And no great marvel, seeing they which should have been moderators, and ove••see••s of others, and which should have given good examples in words and gravity; they themselves, above all others, gave worst ex|ample, and did, as it were, blow the trump to the rest, to ••ave, roar, rage, and cry out. By reason whereof, (good christian reader) manifestly it may appear, that they never sought for any truth or verity, but only for the glory of the world, and their own bragging victory. But lest, by the innumerable railings and reproachful ••••unts, where with

I was baited on every side, our cause, yea rather God's cause and his church's, should be evil spoken of, and slan|dered to the world through false reports, and untrue ex|amples given out of disputation, and so the verity might sustain some damage, I thought it no less than my duty to write mine answers; to the intent, that whosoever is desi|rous to know the truth thereof, may by this perceive as well those things which were chiefly objected, as summari|ly that which was answered of me unto each of them. Howbeit (good reader) I confess this to be most true, that it is impossible to set forth either all that was, God know|eth, tumultuously and confusedly objected of their parts, being so many, speaking many times all together so thick, that one could not well hear another, neither all that was answered on my behalf to them so sundry and divers oppo|nents.

Moreover, a great part of the time appointed for the disputations, was vainly consumed in opprobrious checks and reviling taunts, with hissing and clapping of hands, and that in the English tongue, to procure the people's fa|vour withal. All which things, when I with great grief of heart did behold, protesting openly, that such excessive and outrageous disorder was unseemly for those schools, and men of learning and gravity, and that they which were the do••rs and stirrers of such things, did nothing else but be|tray the slenderness of their cause, and their own vanities. I was so far off by this humble complaint, from doing any good at all, that I was inforced to hear such rebukes, checks, and taunts, for my labour, as no person of any honesty, without blushing, could abide to hear the like spoken of a most vil•• ••arlet, against a most wretched ruffian.

At the first beginning of the disputation, when I should have first confirmed mine answer to the first proposition, in few words, and that (after the manner and law of schools) before I could make an end of my first probation, which was not very long, even the doctors themselves cried out, "he speaketh blasphemies, he speaketh blasphemies." And when I on my knees besought them, and that heartily, that they would vouchsafe to hear me to the end, (whereat the prolocutor being moved, cried out on high, "Let him read it, ••et him read it,") yet, when I began to read again, there followed immediately such shouting, such a noise and tumult, such confusion of voices, crying, "Blas|phemies, blasphemies," as to my remembrance I never heard or read the like, except it be that one, which was in the Acts of the Apostles, stirred up of Demetrius the silve••smi••h, and others of his occupation, crying out against Paul, "Great is Diana of the Ephesians, Great is Diana of the Ephesians▪" and except it be a certain dis|putation which the Arians had against the orthodox, and such as were of godly judgment in Africa, where it is said, that such as the president and rulers of the disputation were, such was the end of the disputations. All were in a hurly-burly, and so great were the slanders which the Arians cast out, that nothing could quietly be heard. So writeth Victor in the second book of his history.

The which cries and tumults of them against me so prevailed, that I was absolutely forced to leave off reading of my probations, although they were short. If any man doubt of the truth hereof, let the same ask any one that was there, and not utterly perverted in popery, and I am as|sured, he will say, I speak the least. But to complain of these things further, I will cease.

And further, speaking of this disputation, he concluded with these words: "And thus was ended this most glorious disputation of the most holy fathers, sacrificers, doctors, and masters, which fought most manfully as ye may see, for their god and goods, for their faith and felicity, for their country and kitchen, for their beauty and belly, with trium|phant applauses and favour of the whole university.

AFTER the disputation of Mr. Latimer was end|ed, on the Friday following, April 20th, the com|missioners sat in St. Mary's church, as they did the Saturday before, and Dr. Weston used particular dissuasions with every one of them, and would not suffer them to answer in any wise, but directly and peremptorily, as his words were, to say whether they would subscribe or no. And first to Dr. Cranmer he said, He was overcome in disputations. To whom the bishop answered, That whereas Dr. Weston said, he hath answered and opposed▪ and could neither maintain his own errors, no▪ overturn the truth; all that he said was false: for he was not suffered to oppose as he would, nor could answer as he was required, unless he would have brawled with them, so thick their reasons came one after another, four or five frequently interrupting him, that he could not speak. Mr. Ridley and Mr Latimer were asked what they would do: they replied, that they would stand to what they had said. Then they were all called together, and sen|tence read over them, that they were no members of the church: and therefore they, their favourers, and patrons, were condemned as heretics. And in reading of it, they were asked, Whether they would turn or no? But they bade them read on in the name of God, for they were not minded to turn. So they were all three condemned.

AFTER which sentence of condemnation being awarded against them, they answered again each in his turn, in manner and effect of words as follow|eth; the archbishop speaking first.

BP. CRANMER.

"From this your judgment and sentence I appeal to the just judgment of God Al|mighty, trusting to be present with him in heaven, for whose presence in the altar I am thus condemn|ed"

BP. RIDLEY.

"Although I be not of your com|pany, yet doubt I not but my name is written in another place, whither this sentence will send us sooner, than we should by the course of nature have come."

BP. LATIMER.

"I thank God most heartily, that he hath prolonged my life to this end, that I may in this case glorify God by that kind of death."

DR. WESTON's answer unto Latimer. "If you go to heaven in this faith, then I will never come thither, as I am thus persuaded."

AFTER sentence was pronounced, they were se|parated one from another; namely, the archbishop was returned to Bocardo, Dr. Ridley to the sheriff's house, Mr. Latimer to the bailiff's.

ON Saturday following, they had a mass with a general procession and great solemnity. Dr. Cran|mer was caused to behold the procession out of Bo|cardo, Dr. Ridley out of the sheriff's house. La|timer also being brought to see it from the bailiff's house, thought that he should have gone to burning, and spake to one Augustine, a catchpola, to make a quick fire: but when he came to Carfox, (Oxford market place, where four ways meet) he ran as fast as his old bones would carry him, to one Spencer's shop, and would not look towards it. Dr. Weston carried the host; and four doctors supported the canopy over him, and his breaden God.

Immediately after the sentence, Bishop Ridley wrote to Dr. Weston in the following manner.

MR. Prolocutor, you remember, I am sure, how you promised me openly in the schools, after my protes|tation, that I should see how my answers were there taken and written of the notaries, whom you appointed (for I objected not to any) to write what should be said, and to have had licence to have added unto them, or to have alter|ed them, as upon more deliberation should have seemed me best. You granted me also, at the delivery of my answer unto your first proposition, a copy of the same. These promises are not performed. If your sudden departure be any part of the cause thereof, yet, I pray you, remember that they may be performed; for performance of promise is to be looked for at a righteous judge's hands. Now I send you here my answers in writing to your second and third propositions, and do desire and require earnestly a copy of the same, and I shall by God's grace procure the pains of the writer to be paid for, and satisfied accordingly. Mr. Prolocutor, in the time of my answering in the schools, when I would have confirmed my sayings with au|thorities and reasons, you said then openly, that I should have time and place to say and bring whatsoever I could, another time; and the same your saying was then and there confirmed by others of the commissioners: Yes, and (I dare say) the audience also thought then that I should have had another day, to have brought and said what I could for the declaration and confirmation of mine assertions. Now that this was not done, but so suddenly sentence gi|ven before the cause was perfectly heard, I cannot but marvel, &c.

ON Monday next ensuing, April 23, Dr. Weston took his journey up to London, with the Letters certificatory from the university to the queen, by whom the archbishop (Dr. Cranmer) directed his letters supplicatory unto the council; which letters, after the prolocutor had received, and had carried them well near halfway to London, by the way he opened the same, and seeing the contents thereof, sent them back again, refusing to carry them. Likewise bishop Ridley, hearing of the prolocutor's going to London, wrote to him his letters, wherein he desired him to carry his answers up to certain bishops in London; the form of which letters, first of Dr. Ridley, then of the archbishop, and lastly, another letter of Dr. Ridley to the archbishop, here in order followeth.

BISHOP RIDLEY's LETTER to Dr. WESTON, the PROLOCUTOR.

MR. Prolocutor, I desire you, and in God's name require you, that you truly bring forth and shew all my answers, written and subscribed with mine own hand, unto the higher house of the convocation, and espe|cially to my lord chancellor, my lords of Durham, Ely, Worcester, Norwich, and Chichester; and also to shew and exhibit this my writing unto them, which in these few lines here I write unto you; and that I did make this request unto you by this my writing, know you, that I did take witness of them by whom I send you this writing, and also of those which were then with them present, viz.

the two bailiffs of Oxford, and of Mr. Irish, alderman then there called to be a witness.

By me, NICHOLAS RIDLEY.

April 13, 1554.

A LETTER, Written by DR. CRANMER, Archbishop of CANTER|BURY, to the COUNCIL, which DR. WESTON re|fused to deliver.

IN right humble wise sheweth unto your honourable lordships, Thomas Cranmer, late Archbishop of Can|terbury, beseeching the same to be a means for me unto the queen's highness for her mercy and pardon. Some of you know by what mean•• I was brought and trained unto the will of our late sovereign lord king Edward the sixth, and what I spake against the same, wherein I refer me to the reports of your honours and worships. Furthermore, this is to signify unto your lordships, that upon Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday last past, were open disputations here in Oxford against me, Mr. Ridley, and Mr. Lati|mer, in three matters concerning the sacrament: First of the real presence. Secondly, of transubstantiation. And thirdly, of the sacrifice of the mass. Upon Monday against me; upon Tuesday against Dr. Ridley; and upon Wed|nesday against Mr. Latimer. How the other two were or|dered, I know not, for we were separated, so that none of us knoweth what the other said, nor how they were ordered. But as concerning myself I can report: Dr. Chedsey was appointed to dispute against me; but the dis|putation was so confused that I never knew the like, every man bringing forth what he liked without order: and such haste was made, that no answer could be suffered to be taken fully to any argument, before another brought a new ar|gument. And in such weighty matters the disputation must needs be ended in one day, which can scantly be ended in three months. And when we had answered them, they would not appoint us one day to bring forth our proofs, that they might answer us, being required by me thereunto, whereas I myself have more to say, than can be well dis|cussed, as I suppose, in twenty days. The means to re|solve the truth, had been to have suffered us to answer fully to all that they could say, and then they again to answer us fully to all that we can say. But why they would not an|swer us, what other cause can there be, but that either they feared their matter, that they were not able to answer us, or else for some consideration they made such haste, not to seek the truth, but to condemn us, that it must be done in post-haste before the matters could be thoroughly heard: for in haste we were all three condemned of heresy. Thus much I thought good to signify unto your lordships, that you may know the indifferent handling of matters, leaving the judg|ment thereof unto your wisdoms. And I beseech your lordships to remember me, a poor prisoner, unto the queen's majesty, and I shall pray, as I do daily unto God, for the long preservation of your good lordships in all godliness and felicity. April 23.

A LETTER, From Dr. RIDLEY, Bishop of LONDON, to Dr. CRAN|MER, Archbishop of CANTERBURY.

I Wish you might have seen these mine answers before I had delivered them, that you might have corrected them. But I trust, in the substance of the matter we do agree fully, both led by one spirit of truth, and both walk|ing after one rule of God's word. It is reported, that serjeant Morgan, the chief justice of the common pleas, is gone mad. It is said also, that justice Hales hath re|canted, perverted by Dr. Moreman. Item, That Mr. Ro|gers, Dr. Crome, and Mr. Bradford shall be had to Cam|bridge, and there be disputed with, as we were here; and that the doctors of Oxford shall go likewise thither, as Cambridge men came hither. When you have read mine answers, send them again to Austen, except you will put any thing to them. I trust, the day of our delivery out of all miseries, and of our entrance into perpetual rest, and unto perpetual joy and felicity, draweth nigh: the Lord strengthen us with his mighty spirit of grace. If you have nothing to write with, you must make your man your friend. And this bearer deserveth to be rewarded; so he may, and will do your pleasure. My man is trusty, but it grieveth both him and me, that when I send him with any thing to you, your man will not let him come up to see you, as he may to Mr. Latimer, and your's to me. I have a promise to see how my answers were written in the schools, but as yet I cannot come by it. Pray for me, I pray for you, and so shall I continue to do. The Lord have mercy on his church, and enlighten the eyes of the magistrates, that God's extreme plagues light not on this realm of England. TURN, OR BURN.

CHAP. V. Proceedings of the PAPISTS against the PROTESTANTS.—The DUKE of SUFFOLK Beheaded. —Mr. MANTEL's Apology.—A CAT with a Shaven Crown hanged in CHEAPSIDE.—A DECLARATION of Mr. BRADFORD and Others.—The MARRIAGE of QUEEN MARY with the EMPEROR's Son, PHILIP, PRINCE of SPAIN.—PO••MS written on this Occasion. Events that followed the Solemnization of the Marriage.—The BISHOP of WINCHESTER's Sermon; and BONNER's visitation.—His Outrage upon Sir THOMAS JOSSELIN.

HAVING finished our account of the disputa|tions, between the Roman catholics and protestant divines of the reformed religion, at Ox|ford, we shall now prosecute the historical narration, respecting various transactions in this tumultuous time of queen Mary. And because so many things happened in different parts of the realm, that it is difficult to preserve the due order of time in recit|ing them all, we shall therefore return again to the month of July, 1553, in which month, as we have before shewed, the duke of Northumberland was brought to London, by the earl of Arundel, on St. James's day, July 25th; and these are the names of those who were committed with the duke to the Tower:

THE earl of Warwick, the earl of Huntington, lord Ambrose, and lord Henry Dudley, lord Hast|ings, who was delivered again the same night; sir John Gates, sir Henry Gates, Andrew Dudley, sir Thomas Palmer, and Dr. Sands, chancellor of Cambridge.

JULY 26, the lord marquis of Northampton, the bishop of London, lord Robert Dudley, and sir Richard Corbet, were brought and committed to the Tower.

JULY 27, the lord chief justice of England, and the lord Mountacute chief justice of the common pleas, were committed to the Tower.

JULY 28, the Duke of Suffolk and sir John Cheek were committed to the Tower.

JULY 30, the lord Russel was committed to the sheriff of London's custody.

JULY 31, the earl of Rutland was committed to the Fleet; and on the same day the duke of Suf|folk was delivered out of the Tower again.

Upon Thursday, August 3, the queen entered in|to the city of London at Aldgate, and so to the Tower, where she remained seven days, and then removed to Richmond.

AUGUST 4, Dr. Day was delivered out of the Fleet; and the day after, the lord Ferris was com|mitted to the Tower, and Dr. Bonner delivered out of the Marshalsea. The same Day at night Dr. Cocks was committed to the Marshalsea, and one Mr. Edward Underhill to New gate. Also the same day Dr. Tonstal and Stephen Gardiner were delivered out of the Tower, and Gardiner received into the queeen's privy council, and made lord chancellor.

AUGUST 7, Henry Dudley, captain of the guard at Guines, who before had been sent to the French king by his cousin the duke of Northumberland, after the dispatch of his embassage with the French king, returned to Guines and was this day brought to the Tower.

AUGUST 7, Dirige in Latin was sung within the Tower by all the king's chapel, and the bishop of Winchester was chief minister, the queen being present and most of the council.

AUGUST 8, the king's body was brought to West|minster, and there buried; where Dr. Day, bishop of Chichester, preached. The same day a mass of Requiem was sung within the Tower by the bishop of Winchester, who had on his mitre; and did all things as in times past was done; the queen being present.

UPON Tuesday the duke of Norfolk came out of the Tower, with whom the dutchess of Somerset was also delivered.

AUGUST 11, Dr. Bourne preached at Paul's Cross: of which mention has been made.

IN the week following, commandment was given throughout the city, that no apprentices should come to the sermon, nor bear any knife or dagger.

AUGUST 16, Mr. Bradford, Mr. Beacon, and Mr. Vernon, were committed to the Tower: with whom also Mr. Sampson should have been commit|ted, and was sought for the same time, at Mr. El|sing's house in Fleet-street, where Mr. Bradford was taken: and because he was not found, the bishop of Winchester was greatly displeased with the messen|ger.

AUGUST 18, the duke of Northumberland, the marquis of Northampton, and the earl of Warwick, were arrainged at Westminster, and condemned the same day, the duke of Norfolk that day being the high judge.

AUGUST 19, sir Andrew Dudley▪ sir John Gates, sir Henry Gates, and sir Thomas Palmer, were ar|rainged at Westminster, and condemned the same day, the lord marquis of Winchester being high judge.

UPON which day a letter was sent unto sir Henry 〈…〉〈…〉 Brown, and Edmund Brown, es|qui••••••▪ ••aying them to commit to ward all such as shall contemn the queen's order of religion, or shall keep themselves from church, there to remain until they be conformable, and to signify their names to the council.

AUGUST 20, Dr. Watson, the bishop of Winches|ter's chaplain, preached at St. Paul's Cross, at whose sermon were present the marquis of Win|chester, the earl of Bedford, the earl of Pembroke, the lord Rich, and 200 of the guard with their halberds, lest the people should have made any stir against the preacher.

AUGUST 21, the duke of Northumberland, the marquis of Northampton, sir Andrew Dudley, sir John Gates, and sir Thomas Palmer, heard mass within the Tower, and after mass they all five receiv|ed the sacrament in one kind only, as in the popish time was used. On which day also queen Mary set forth a proclamation, signifying to the people, that she could not hide any longer the religion which she from her infancy had professed, &c. prohibiting, in the said proclamation, printing and preaching; the tenor of which has been given before.

AUGUST 22, the duke of Northumberland, sir John Gates, and sir Thomas Palmer, were behead|ed at Tower-hill. The same day certain noble personages heard mass within the Tower, and like|wise after mass received the sacrament in one kind.

AUGUST 27, Dr. Chedsey preached at Paul's Cross, and the day same the archbishop of Canterbury, sir Thomas Smith, and the dean of St. Paul's were cited to appear the week following before the queen's commissioners, in the bishop's consistory within St. Paul's.

IN the mean time it was noised abroad by running rumours falsely and craftily devised, either to esta|blish the credit of the mass, or else to bring Thomas Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury, out of credit, that he, to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 favour with queen Mary, should promise to say mass, after the old custom, for king Edward, and that he had already said mass at Can|terbury, &c. Wherefore, to stop the slanders of those rumours, the said Thomas, archbishop of Canterbury, the seventh day of September, set forth a letter, which was also printed, in behalf of him|self, the copy of which letter here followeth:

A DECLARATION of Dr. THOMAS CRANMER, Arch|bishop of Canterbury, wherein he clears himself from the Stain of certain Calumnies, falsely raised upon him.

AS the devil, Christ's ancient adversary, is a lyar, and the father of lyes, even so hath he stirred up his ser|vants and members to persecute Christ and his true word and religion with lying: which he ceaseth not to do most earnestly at this present time. For whereas the prince of famous memory, king Henry VIII. seeing the great abuses of the Latin mass, reformed some things therein in his life time; and after, our late sovereign lord 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Edward VI. took the same wholly away, for the manifold and great errors and abuses of the same, and restored in the place thereof Christ's holy supper, according to Christ's own institution, and as the apostles used the same in the pri|mitive church, the devil goeth about now by lying to over|throw the Lord's supper again, and to restore his Latin satisfactory mass, a thing of his own invention and de|vice. And to bring the same more easily to pass, some have abused the name of me Thomas, archbishop of Can|terbury, reporting abroad, that I have set up the mass at Canterbury, and that I offered to say mass at the burial of our late sovereign prince king Edward VI. and that I of|fered to say mass before the queen's highness, at St. Paul's church, and I know not where. And although I have been well exercised these twenty years, to suffer and bear evil reports and lyes, and have not been much grieved thereat, but have borne all things quietly; yet when untrue reports and lyes turn to the hindrance of God's truth, they are in no wise to be suffered. Wherefore these be to signify unto the world, That it was not I that set up the mass at Can|terbury, but it was a false, flattering, lying, and dissem|bling monk, (one Dr. Thornton,) which caused mass to be set up there without mine advice or counsel. (The Lord recompense him in that day!) And as for offering myself to say mass before the queen's highness, or in any other place, I never did it, as her grace well knoweth. But if her grace will give me leave, I shall be ready to prove, against all that will say the contrary, that all that is contained in the holy communion, set out by the most innocent and godly prince king Edward VI. in his high court of Parliament, is conformable to that order which our Saviour Christ did both observe, and command to be observed, and which his apostles, and the primitive church used many years; whereas the mass, in many things, not only hath no foundation of Christ, his apostles, nor the primitive church, but is ma|nifestly contrary to the same, and containeth many horrible abuses in 〈◊〉〈◊〉. And although many, either unlearned or malicious, do report, that Peter Martyr is unlearned; yet, if the queen's highness will grant thereunto, I, with the said Peter Martyr, and other four or five which I shall chuse, will, by God's grace, take upon us to defend, not only the common prayers of the church, the ministration of the sacraments, and other rites and ceremonies, but also all the doctrine and religion set out by our sovereign lord king Edward VI. to be more pure, and according to God's word, than any other that hath been used in England these thousand years: so that God's word may be judge, and that the reasons and proofs of both parties may be set out in writing, to the intent, as well that all the world may ex|amine and judge thereon, as that no man shall start back from his writing. And where they boast of the faith, that hath been in the church these fifteen hundred years, we will join with them in this point; and that the same doctrine and usage is to be followed, which was in the church fifteen hundred years past: and we shall prove, that the order of the church, set out at this present, in this realm, by act of Parliament, is the same that was used in the church fifteen hundred years past; and so shall they be never able to prove their's.

ON Thursday, September 7, lord Mountacute, chief justice, and lord chief baron were delivered out of the Tower.

SEPTEMBER 13, the reverend father, Hugh La|timer, bishop of Worcester, was committed to the Tower.

SEPTEMBER 14, the archbishop of Canterbury, Mr. Cranmer, was committed to the Tower.

SEPTEMBER 26, one Mr. Gray of Cambridge, called before him one Mr. Garth, for that he would not suffer a boy of Peter-house to help him to say mass, in Pembroke-hall, which was before any law was established for that behalf.

ON Thursday, September 28, the queen came to the Tower of London, and upon the Saturday following, she rode from the Tower through the city, where were made many pageants to receive her, and so she was triumphantly brought to Whitehall. Among these pageants stood a certain man upon the top of the eagle, on St. Paul's stee|ple, with a flag in his hand.

UPON Sunday, October 1, the queen's highness went from Whitehall to Westminster ••bbey, ac|companied with most part of the nobility of this realm, namely, the duke of Norfolk, the earl of Arundel, the earl of Shrewsbury▪ the marquis of Winchester, the earls of Derby, Bedford, Wor|cester,

Cumberland▪ Westmoreland, Oxford, Sus|sex, Devonshire, Pembroke, the lord Dacres of the north, lord Ferris, lord Cobham, lord Aber|gavenny, lord Wentworth, lord Scroope, lord Rich, lord Vaus, lord Howard, lord Conias, lord Morley, lord Paget, and the lord Willoughby; with other nobles, and all the ambassadors of divers countries, the mayor of London, with all the al|dermen. Also out of the Abbey, to receive her coming, came three silver crosses, and to the num|ber of about fourscore singing men, all in very rich and gorgeous copes. Amongst whom was the dean of Westminster, and divers of the queen's chaplains, which bare every one some ensign in their hands, and after them followed ten bishops, all mitred, and their crosier st••••es in their hands, and rich copes upon them every one. And in this order they returned from Westminster-hall, before the queen to the Abbey, where she was crowned by Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, and lord chancellor of England. At the time of the coro|nation, Dr. Day, bishop of Chichester made a ser|mon to the queen's majesty, and to the rest of the nobility.

ALSO there was a general pardon proclaimed within the Abbey at the time of her coronation, out of which proclamation all the prisoners of the Tower and of the Fleet were excepted, and 62 more: where|of Mr. Whitchurch and Mr. Grafton were two.

OCTOBER 3, the vice chancellor of Cambridge did challenge one Mr. Pierson, for that he ministered still the communion in his own parish, and did re|ceive strangers of other parishes to the same, and would not say mass. Whereupon, within two days after he was clean discharged from farther minister|ing in his cure.

UPON the Wednesday following, the archbishop of York was committed to the Tower.

UPON Thursday, October 5, 1553, the queen rode to the parliament in her robes, and all the no|bility with her; and when they were set in the parliament-house, the bishop of Winchester made to them a solemn oration, and serjeant Pollard was chosen speaker. The same day the bishops of Lin|coln, Hereford, and Westchester, were discharged from the parliament and convocation.

ALSO October 10, the earl of Huntington was delivered out of the Tower.

UPON Sunday after, October 15, Mr. Laurence Saunders preached at Alhallows in Bread-street, in the morning: where he fully declared the abomi|nation of the mass, with divers other matters; whereof more shall be heard by God's leave here|after, when we come to his story. In doing which, as he shewed himself to be God's faithful minister, so is he sure not to be defrauded of God's faithful promise, who saith, Matt. x. "Whosoever shall confess me before men, him will I confess also be|fore my Father which is in heaven." But about noon the same day, he was sent for by the bishop of London, and committed to the Marshalsea.

UPON the Sunday following, October 20, Dr. Weston preached at Paul's-Cross, who in the be|ginning of his sermon desired the people to pray for the souls departed, on this wise: "You shall pray for all them that be departed, that be neither in heaven nor hell, but in a place not sufficiently purged to come to heaven, that they may be reliev|ed by your devout prayers." He named the Lord's table an oyster board. He said, that the catechism in Latin, lately published, was an abominable he|resy, and likened the setters out of the same to Julian the apostate, and the book to a dialogue wrote by the said Julian, wherein Christ and Pilate were the speakers; with many other things. This sermon Mr. Corverdale learnedly confuted in wri|ting, which (says Mr. Fox) remaineth yet in my hands to be seen.

IN the week following began the public disputa|tions at St. Paul's, whereof sufficient hath been said.

OCTOBER 26, the vice-chancellor of Cambridge went to Clare-hall, and in the presence of Dr. Walker, displaced Dr. Madew, and placed Mr. Swyborne in the mastership there, by virtue of the lord chancellor's letters, for that he was mar|ried.

OCTOBER 28, the papists in King's college, Cambridge, had their whole service again in the Latin tongue, contrary to the law, then not re|pealed.

OCTOBER 31, the vice-chancellor of Cambridge did sharply reprove and threaten one Mr. Thrack|old, for that he challenged the said vice-chancellor, who had suffered master Bovell (contrary to the statutes then in force) quietly without punishment to depart, notwithstanding he refused to swear to the supremacy of the queen, and the abrogation of the bishop of Rome.

NOVEMBER 3, the vice-chancellor sent for the curate of the round parish in Cambridge, com|manding him not to minister any more in the English tongue, saying, he would have one uniform order of service throughout the town, and that in Latin, with mass, which was established the twelfth day of this month.

NOVEMBER 6, Mr. Pollard preached at St. Mi|chael's, and in his sermon approved purgatory.

NOVEMBER 28, the archdeacon's official visited in Hinton, where he gave in charge to imprison all such as did disturb the queen's proceedings, in hin|dering Latin service, the setting up of their altars, and saying of mass, or any part thereof: whereby it was easy to see how these good fellows meant to proceed, having the law once on their side, who thus readily, against a manifest law, would attempt the punishment of any man.

DECEMBER 15, there were two proclamations at London; the one for repealing of certain acts made by king Edward, and for the setting up of the mass the 20th of December following. The other was, that no man should interrupt any of those who would say mass.

THE parliament beginning about the 5th of Oc|tober, continued till the 5th of December. In which parliament were dissolved, as well all the statutes made of Praemunire in the time of king Henry VIII. &c. as also other laws and statutes concerning religion and administration of sacra|ments, decreed under king Edward VI. In which parliament was appointed, that on De|cember 20, then next ensuing, the same year 1553, the old form and manner of church-service, used in the last year of king Henry, should again be restored.

DECEMBER 31, the lord marquis of Northamp|ton was delivered out of the Tower.

ABOUT this time, a priest of Canterbury said mass on one day, and the next day after, he came into the pulpit, and desired all the people to forgive him; for he said he had betrayed Christ, not as Judas did, but as Peter did, and there made a long sermon a|gainst the mass.

JANUARY 2, 1554, four ambassadors came into London, from the emperor, and were honourably received. Their names were La Countie de Eg|mont, Le Countie de Lalen, Monsieur Corire, Le Chancellor Nigre.

ABOUT this time a great number of new bishops, deans, &c. were chose, more than were made at one time since the conquest; namely, Dr. Holy|man, bishop of Bristol; Dr. Coates, bishop of West|chester; Dr. Hopton, bishop of Norwich; Dr. Bourne, bishop of Bath; Dr. White, bishop of Lincoln; Dr. Mores, bishop of Rochester; Dr. Morgan bishop of St. David's; Dr. Poole, bishop of St. Asaph; Dr. Brooks, bishop of Gloucester; Dr. Moreman, coadjutor to the bishop of Exeter, and after his decease bishop of Exeter; Dr. Glin, bishop of Bangor; Mr. Fecknam, dean of St. Paul's; Dr. Reynold's, dean of Bristol, with others.

JANUARY 12, the vice-chancellor of Cambridge called a congregation general, wherein amongst other things he shewed, that the queen would have there a mass of the Holy Ghost upon the 18th of February then next following, for that it was her birth-day; which was fulfilled the day appointed, and that very solemnly.

SATURDAY, January 13, Dr. Crome was com|mitted to the Fleet: also, the Sunday following, one Mr. Addington was committed to the Tower. The same Sunday likewise, the bishop of Winches|ter declared openly in the court, that the marriage between the queen's majesty and the king of Spain was concluded; and the day following, January 15, the mayor with the aldermen and certain commons were at the court, and there they were commanded by the lord chancellor to prepare the city ready to

receive the said king of Spain: who declared unto them what a catholic, mighty, prudent, and wise prince the said king was, with many other commen|dations of him.

SATURDAY, January 20, the court of the first-fruits and tenths was dissolved.

THURSDAY night, January 25, the lord marquis of Northampton was again committed to the Tower, and sir Edward Warner with him; who were brought to the Tower by the mayor.

ON Saturday following, January 27, justice Hales was committed to the Marshalsea; and the same day Mr. Rogers was committed to Newgate. Satur|day, Sunday, and Monday following, the Londoners prepared a number of soldiers, by the queen's com|mand, to go into Kent against the commons; where|of were chief captains, the duke of Norfolk, the earl of Wormwood, sir Henry Jerningham, sir George Howard, and ten other captains; which soldiers when they came to Rochester-bridge, where they should have set upon their enemies, most of them (as it is said) left their own captains, and came wholly to the Kentish men; and so the aforesaid captains returned to the court both void of men and victory, leaving behind them six pieces of ordnance and treasure.

ABOUT the latter end of January, the duke of Suffolk, with his brethren, departed from his house at Shene, and went into Leicestershire; after whom the earl of Huntington was sent, to take him and bring him to London, who proclaimed the said duke a traitor by the way as he rode.

UPON the 15th day of February, being Thurs|day, within the city of London, about nine o'clock in the forenoon, strange sights were seen. Two suns both shining at once, the one a good way dis|tant from the other; at the same time was also seen a rainbow, with the arch reversed. Both these fights were seen as well at Westminster, in Cheap|side, on the south side of St. Paul's, as in many other places, and that by a great number of honest men. Also certain aldermen went out of Guild-hall to behold the sight.

CONCERNING the rising of Mr. Wyat, with sir William Cobham, and others in Kent, and their coming to London in the month of February; also of the queen's coming to Guild-hall, and her ora|tion there made; and of the taking of the said Wyat and his company; likewise of the apprehen|sion of the duke of Suffolk, with his brother lord John Gray; and the next day after, of the behead|ing of the lord Guilford, and lady Jane, which was February 12; and how, the day before, lord William Howard, and sir Edward Hastings, were sent for the lady Elizabeth; and how, the same Sunday, sir Henry Isely, Mr. Culpepper, and Mr. Winter, were committed to the Tower; the bishop of Winchester, the same day, February 11th, preaching before the queen, and persuading her to use no mercy towards these Kentish men, but se|vere execution; all which was in the month of February: because most of these matters have been briefly touched before, or else may be found in other chronicles, I will cease to make any further mention of them: having somewhat notwithstand|ing to declare touching the arraignment and death of the duke of Suffolk.

SATURDAY, February 17, the duke of Suffolk was arraigned at Westminster, and the same day condemned to die by his peers; the earl of Arundel was chief judge for this day.

SUNDAY the 18th, sessions was held in London, which had not been before on a Sunday.

MONDAY 19th, lord Cobham's three sons, and four other men, were arraigned at Westminster: of which sons the youngest was condemned, whose name was Thomas; the other two came not to the bar; and the other four men were condemned.

TUESDAY 20th, lord John Gray was arraigned at Westminster, and condemned the same day, and other three men, whereof one was named Nailer.

WEDNESDAY 21st, lord Thomas Gray, and sir James Croft, were brought through London to the Tower, with a number of horsemen.

THURSDAY 22d, sir Nicholas Throgmorton was committed to the Tower.

FRIDAY 23d, 1554, the duke of Suffolk was be|headed on Tower-hill, the order of whose death here followeth,

The devout Behaviour of the DUKE of SUFFOLK, on the Day of his EXECUTION.

ABOUT nine o'clock in the forenoon, Henry Gray duke of Suffolk, was brought forth from the Tower unto the scaffold on Tower-hill, and in his coming thither, there accompanied him Dr. Weston as his spiritual father, notwithstanding, as it seemed, against the will of the said duke. For when the said duke went up to the scaffold, the said Weston, be|ing on the left hand, pressed to go up with him; the duke with his hand put him down again off the stairs; and Weston taking hold of the duke, forced him down likewise. And as they ascended the se|cond time, the duke again put him down. Then Weston said, That it was the queen's pleasure he should do so. Wherewith the duke casting his hands abroad, ascended up the scaffold, and paused a long time after. And then he said, "Masters, I have offended the queen, and her laws, and there|by am justly condemned to die, and am willing to die, desiring all men to be obedient, and I pray God that this my death may be an example to all men, beseeching you all to bear me witness, that I die in the faith of Christ, trusting to be saved by his blood only, and by no other trumpery, the which died for me, and for all them that truly repent, and stedfastly trust in him. And I do repent, desiring you all to pray to God for me; and when you see my breath depart from me, you will pray to God that he may receive my soul." And then he desired all men to forgive him, saying that the queen had forgiven him.

THEN Dr. Weston declared with a loud voice, that the queen's majesty had forgiven him. With that several of the standers by said with good and audible voices, Such forgiveness God send thee! (meaning Dr. Weston.) Then the duke kneeled down upon his knees, and said the Psalm, Miserere mei Deus, unto the end, holding up his hands, and looking up to heaven. And when he had ended the Psalm, he said, "Into thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit," &c. Then he arose and stood up, and delivered his cap and his scarf unto the executioner. Then the said executioner kneeled down, and asked the duke forgiveness. And the duke said, "God forgive thee, and I do: and when thou doest thine office, I pray thee do it well, and send me out of this world quickly, and God have mercy on thee." Then stood there a man and said, "My lord, how shall I do for the money that you do owe me?" And the duke said, "Alas, good fellow, I pray thee, trouble me not now, but go thy way to my officers." Then he tied a handkerchief about his face, and kneeled down and said, "Our Father which art in heaven," &c. unto the end. And then he said, "Christ have mercy upon me," and laid down his head on the block, and the executioner took the ax, and at the first blow struck off his head, and held it up to the people, &c.

THE same day several prisoners had their pardon, and came through the city with their halters about their necks, in number about two hundred and forty.

SATURDAY, February 24th, sir William Bent|low was committed as prisoner to the master of the horse. This sir William was at this time one of lady Elizabeth's gentlemen.

SUNDAY 25th, sir John Rogers was committed to the Tower.

IN this week, all such priests, within the diocese of London, as were married, were divorced from their livings, and commanded to bring their wives within a fortnight, that they might be likewise divorced from them: this the bishop did of his own power.

FEBRUARY 27th, certain gentlemen of Kent were sent into that county to be executed, among whom we find the two Mantels, two Knevets, and Bret. Mr. Rudston also, and others were condemned, and would have been executed, but they had their pardon.

AS to Mr. Mantel, senior, it is to be noted, that, when under the gallows, upon his being turned off, the rope broke Upon which, they urged him to recant, and receive the sacrament of the altar, pro|mising him the queen's pardon; but this worthy

gentleman rejected their insidious counsel, and chose rather to die, than to live, by dishonouring God.

IT was reported of this Mr. Mantel, but falsely, that he had recanted; to clear himself from which aspersion, he wrote the following apology.

The APOLOGY of Mr. MANTEL, senior, March 20th, 1554.

PERCEIVING that already certain false reports are raised of me concerning my answer in the behalf of my belief, while I was prisoner in the Tower of London, and considering how sore a matter it is to be an occasion of offence to any of those little ones that believe in Christ; I have thought it the duty of a christian man, as near as I can (with the truth), to take away this offence. It pleas|ed the queen's majesty to send unto me Dr. Bourne, unto whom at the first meeting I acknowledged my faith in all points to agree with the four creeds, that is, the common creed, the creed of Nicene, Quicunque vult, and Te Deum laudamus.

FURTHER, as concerning confession and penance, I de|clare that I could be content to shew unto any learned mi|nister of Christ's church any thing that troubled my conscience, and of such a man I would most willingly hear absolution pronounced.

TOUCHING the sacrament of the altar (as he termed it), I said, that I believed Christ to be there present as the Holy Ghost meant, when these words were written, "This is my body."

FURTHER, when this would not satisfy, I desired him to consider, that I was a man condemned to die by law, and that it was more meet for me to seek a readiness and preparation for death. And inasmuch as I dissented not from him in any article of the christian faith necessary to salvation, I desired him for God's sake no more to trou|ble me with such matters, as which to believe, is neither salvation; nor not to believe, damnation. He answered, that if I dissented but in the least matter from the catholic church, my soul was in great danger; there|fore much more in this great matter, alledging this text, "He that offendeth in the least of these, is guilty of them all." Yes, said I, "It is true of these commandments of God." To this I desired him to consider it was not my matter, nor could I in these things hold disputation, nor minded so to do; and therefore to take these few words for a full answer, that I not only in the matter of the sacrament, but also in all other matters of religion, believe as the holy ca|tholic church of Christ (grounded upon the prophets and apo|stles) believeth. But upon this word [Church] we agreed not; for I took exception at the antichristian popish church.

THEN fell we in talk of the mass, wherein we agreed not; for I, both for the occasion of idolatry, and also the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 subversion of Christ's institution, thought it naught; and he, on the contrary, upon certain considerations, sup|posed it good. I found fault that it was accounted a sacri|fice propitiatory for sin, and at certain other applications of it. But he said that it was not a propitiatory sacrifice for sin (for the death of Christ only was the sacrifice), and this but a commemoration of the same. Then, if you think so, (certain blasphemous collects left out) I could be content (were it not for offending my poor brethren that believe in Christ, which know not so much) to hear your mass. See, said he, how vain-glory toucheth you. Not so, sir, I am not now, I thank God, in case to be vain-glorious.

THEN I found further fault with it, that it was not a communion. Yes, saith he, one priest saying mass here, and another there, and the third in another place, &c. is a communion. This agreeth not, said I, with these words of Paul, "Ye come not after a better manner, but after a worse." Yes, and it is a communion too, said he, when they come together. Now draweth on the time, said he, that I must depart from you to the court, to say mass before the queen, and must signify unto her in what case I find you, and methinks I find you sore seduced. Then I said, I pray you report the best: for I trust you find me not obstinate. What shall I say? are you content to hear mass, and to receive the sacrament of the mass? I beseech you, said I, signify unto her majesty, that I am neither obstinate nor stubborn; for time and persuasion may alter me, but as yet my conscience is such, that I can neither hear mass, nor receive the sacrament after that sort. Thus, after certain requests made to the queen's majesty con|cerning other matters, he departed.

THE next day he came to me again, and brought with him St. Cyprian's works; for so I had required him to do the day before, because I would see his sermon on mor|tality. He had in this book turned and interlined certain places both concerning the church and the sacrament, which he asked me to read. I read as much as my time would serve, and at his next coming I said, that I was wholly of Cyprian's mind in the matter of the sacrament. Dr. Weston and Dr. Mallet came after to me, whom I answered much after that sort as I did the other. Dr. Weston brought in the place of St. Cyprian, another book on the same subject. I asked of him how the word [Nature] was taken in the convocation-house, in the disputation upon the place of Theodoret.

TO be short, Dr. Bourne came often unto me, and I always said unto him, that I was not minded, nor able to dispute in matters of religion: but I believed as the holy catholic church of Christ, grounded upon the pro|phets and apostles, doth believe: and namely in the matter of the sacrament, as the holy fathers, St. Cyprian

and St. Augustine, do write, and believed; and this an|swer and none other they had of me in effect; what words soever have been spread abroad of me, that I should be conformable to all things, &c. The truth is, I never heard m••ss, nor received the sacrament during the time of my imprisonment.

ONE them he asked me to be confessed. I said, I am con|tent. We kneeled down to pray together in a window. I began without Benedicite, desiring him not to look at my hand for any superstitious particular enumeration of my sins. Therewith he was called away to the council; and I was s••t at liberty. Thus much I bear only for my life, as God knoweth. If in this I have offended any christian, from the bottom of my heart I ask them forgiveness. I trust God hath forgiven me, who knoweth that I durst never deny him before men, lest he should deny me before his heavenly Father.

THUS I have left behind me written with my own hand the effect of all the talk, especially of the worst that ever I granted unto, to the uttermost I can remember, as God knoweth. All the whole communication I have not writ|ten; for it were both too long and too foolish so to do. Now I beseech the living God, which hath received me to his mercy, and brought to pass, that I die stedfast and undefiled in his truth, at utter defiance and detestation of all papistical and antichristian doctrine; I beseech him, I say, to keep and defend all his chosen, for his name's sake, from the ty|ranny of the bishop of Rome, that antichrist, and from the assault of all his satellites. God's indignation is known: he will try and prove who are his. Amend your lives. Deny not Christ before men, lest he deny you before his heavenly Father. Fear not to lose your lives for him; for ye shall find them again. God hold his merciful hand over this realm, and avert the plagues imminent from the same. God save the queen, and send her knowledge in his truth. Amen. Pray, pray, pray ye christians, and comfort your|selves with the scriptures.

Written the 2d of March, ann. 1554,

by me WAL|TER MANTEL, prisoner, whom both God and the world hath forgiven his offences. Amen.

TRANSACTIONS in the Second Year of QUEEN MA+RY's REIGN.

SATURDAY, March 3d, sir Gawen Carew and M. Gibbes, were brought through Lon|don to the Tower with a company of horsemen.

March 17th, every housholder in London was commanded to appear before the aldermen of their ward, and there were commanded, that they, their wives, and servants▪ should prepare themselves for confession, and receive the sacrament at Easter, and that neither they, nor any of them, should depart out of the city until Easter was past.

THE Sunday following, March 18th, lady Eliza|beth, the queen's sister, of whom mention was made before, was brought to the Tower.

UPON Easter eve, March 2••th, the lord mar|quis of Northampton, the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Cobham, and sir William Cobham, were delivered out of the Tower.

MARCH 25, being Easter-day, in the morning, at St. Pencrase in Cheap, the crucifix with the pyx [the vessel in which the host was kept] were taken out of the sepulchre, before the priest rose to the resurrection: so that when after his accustomed manner, he put his hand into the sepulchre, and said very devoutly, "He is risen, he is not here," he found his words true, for he was not there in|deed. Whereupon being half dismayed, they con|sulted among themselves, whom they thought to be the likeliest to do this thing: in which consultation they remembered one Marsh, who a little before had been put from that parsonage, because he was married, to whose charge they laid it. But when they could not prove it, being brought before the mayor, they then burthened him to have kept company with his wife, since that they were by commandment divorced. Whereunto he answered, That he thought the queen had done him wrong, to take from him both his living and his wife: which words were then noted, and taken very grievously, and he and his wife were both committed to sepa|rate compters, notwithstanding that he had been very sick.

APRIL 8, a cat was hanged upon a gallows, at the cross, in Cheapside, apparelled like a priest rea|dy to say mass, with a shaven crown: her two fore|feet were tied over her head, with a round paper like a wafer-cake, put between: whereon arose great ill will against the city of London. For the queen and the bishops were very angry; and the same after|noon there was a proclamation issued, that whosoe|ver could bring forth the party that did hang up the cat, should have twenty nobles, which was after|wards increased to twenty marks, but none could, or would earn them.

[figure]

The Execution of Sir Thomas Wyat who was Beheaded on Account of the Protestant Religion on Tower Hill A.D. 1554.

AS to the first occasion of setting up this gallows in Cheapside, here is to be understood, that after the bishop of Winchester's sermon above mentioned, made before the queen, for the speedy execution of Wyat's soldiers, immediately upon the same, Fe|bruary 13, there were several gibbets set up in di|vers parts of the city; namely, two in Cheapside, one at Leadenhall, one at Billingsgate, one at St. Mag|nus church, one in Smithfield, one in Fleet-street, four in Southwark, one at Aldgate, one at Bishops|gate, one at Aldersgate, one at Newgate, one at Ludgate, one at St. James's park corner, one at Cripplegate: all which remained for the terror of others, from February 13, to 〈…〉〈…〉, and then at the coming in of king Philip they were taken down.

APRIL 11, sir Thomas Wyat was beheaded and quartered on Tower hill, where he spoke these words concerning the lady Elizabeth, and the earl of Devonshire: "Concerning, said he, what I have said of others in my examination, to charge any o|thers as partakers of my doings, I accuse neither my lady Elizabeth's grace, nor my lord of Devon|shire. I cannot accuse them, neither am I able to say, that to my knowledge they knew any thing of my rising." And when Dr. Weston told him, that his confession was otherwise before the council, he answered: "That which I said then, I said; but that which I say now, is true."

TUESDAY, April 27, sir James Croft and Mr. Winter were brought to Guildhall, with whom also was brought sir Nicholas Trogmorton, and there arraigned of treason, for that he was suspected to be of the conspiracy with the duke of Suffolk and the rest, against the queen: where he so learnedly and wisely behaved himself, as well in clearing his own case, as also in opening such laws of the realm as were then alledged against him that the jury which were 〈…〉〈…〉 this matter, could not in conscience 〈…〉〈…〉 not guilty; for which, the said 〈…〉〈…〉 of the quest, being substan|tial 〈…〉〈…〉 were each bound in the sum of 500 〈…〉〈…〉 b••fore the queen's council at a day 〈…〉〈…〉 to answer such things 〈◊〉〈◊〉 should be laid against them. Which jury appeared accordingly before the council in the Star chamber, upon Wednesday, April ••••: from whence▪ after certain questioning, they were 〈…〉〈…〉 Emanuel Lucar and Mr. Whetstone to the Tower, and the other ten to the Fleet.

CONCERNING the condemnation of Dr. Cranmer, Dr. Ridley, and Mr. Latimer, which was the 20th of this month, and also of their disputations, hav|ing said enough before, we need not here rehearse the same.

ON Friday after their condemnation, April 27, the lord Thomas Gray, brother to the late duke of Suffolk, was beheaded on Tower-hill.

SATURDAY, April 28, sir James Croft and Mr. Winter were again brought to Guildhall, where sir James Croft was arrainged and condemned; and because the day was far spent, Mr. Winter was not arraigned.

THURSDAY, May 17, William Thomas was ar|raigned at Guildhall, and the same day condemned, who the next day after was hanged, drawn, and quartered. His accusation was, for conspiring the queen's death; which how true it was I have not to say. This is certain, that he made a godly end, and wrote many fruitful exhortations, letters, and son|nets, in the prison, before his death.

IN the month of May it was given out, that a solemn disputation should be held at Cambridge, between Mr. Bradford, Mr. Saunders, Mr. Ro|gers, and others of that side, and the doctors of both universities on the other side, like as had been before in Oxford. Whereupon the godly preach|ers who were in prison, having notice thereof, not|withstanding they were destitute of their books, and not ignorant of the purpose of their adversaries, and how the cause was prejudged before also, how the disputations were confusedly handled at Oxford; nevertheless, they thought not to refuse the offer of disputation, so that they might be quietly heard; and therefore wisely pondering the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with themselves, by a public consent▪ 〈…〉〈…〉 of prison a declaration of their mind by 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of May. Wherein first, as touching the dispu|tation, although they knew that they should do no good, because all things were pre-determined be••fore▪ yet nevertheless, they would not deny to 〈◊〉〈◊〉, if the disputation might be either before 〈◊〉〈◊〉

queen, or before the council, or before the parlia|ment, or if they might dispute by writing; for else, if the matter were brought to the doctors' handling in their own schools, they had sufficient proof, they said, by the experience of Oxford, what little good would be done at Cambridge; and, consequently, declaring the faith and doctrine of their religion, and exhorting the people withal to submit themselves with all patience and humility, either to the will or punishment of the higher pow|ers, they appealed, in the end, from them to be their judges in this behalf, and so ended their protesta|tion: the copy and contents whereof I thought not unfit here to be inserted.

A COPY of the DECLARATION drawn up by MR. BRADFORD, MR. SAUNDERS, and several Others.

BECAUSE we hear that it is determined of the magis|trates, and such as be in authority, especially of the clergy, to send us speedily out of the prisons of the King's Bench, the Fleet, the Marshalsea, and Newgate, where at this present we are, and of long time some of us have been, not as rebels, traitors, seditious persons, thieves, or transgressors of any laws of this realm, inhibitions, pro|clamations, or commandments of the queen's highness, or of any of the councils, (God's name be praised therefore!) but only for the conscience we have to God, and his most holy word and truth, upon most certain knowledge; because, we say, we hear that it is determined, we shall be sent to one of the universities of Cambridge or Ox|ford, there to dispute with such as are appointed in that behalf: in that we purpose not to dispute otherwise than by writing, except it may be before the queen's highness and her council, or before the parliament-houses; and therefore perchance it will be noised abroad, that we are not able to maintain, by the truth of God's word, and the consent of the true and catholic church of Christ, the doctrine we have generally and severally taught, and some of us have written and set forth, whereby the godly and simple may be offended, and somewhat weakened; we have thought it our bounden duty, now whilst we may by writing, to publish and notify the causes why we will not dispute otherwise than is above said, to prevent the offences which might come thereby.

FIRST, Because it is evidently known unto the whole world, that the determinations of both the universities in matters of religion, especially wherein we should dispute, are directly against God's word, yea, against their own de|termination in the time of our late sovereign lord and most godly prince, king Edward: and further it is known, they are our open enemies, and have already condemned our cau|ses, before any disputation had of the same.

SECONDLY, Because the prelates and clergy do not seek either us or the truth, but our destruction and their glory. For if they had sought us, (as charity requireth) then would they have called us forth hereabouts before their laws were so made, that frankly and without peril we might have spo|ken our consciences. Again, If they had sought for the truth, they would not have concluded controversies before they had been disputed; so that it easily appeareth, that they seek their own glory and our destruction, and not us and the truth: and therefore we have good cause to refuse dis|putation, as a thing which shall not further prevail than to the setting forth of their glory, and suppression of the truth.

THIRDLY, Because the censors and judges (as we hear who they be) are manifest enemies to the truth, and that which is worse, obstinate enemies, before whom pearls are not to be cast, by the commandment of our Saviour Jesus Christ, and by his own example. That they be such, their doings of late at Oxford, and in the convocation-house in October last past, do most evidently declare.

FOURTHLY, Because some of us have been in prison these eight or nine months, where we have had no books, no paper, no pen, no ink, or convenient place for study, we think we should do evil, thus suddenly to descend into dis|putation with them, which may alledge, as they list, the fathers and their testimonies, because our memories have not that which we have read, so readily as to reprove, when they shall report and wrest the authors to their purpose, or to bring forth what we may have there for our advantage.

FIFTHLY, Because in disputation we shall not be per|mitted to prosecute our arguments, but be stopt when we should speak; one saying this, another that, the third his mind, &c. as was done to the godly learned fathers, especi|ally Dr. Ridley, at Oxford, who could not be permitted to declare his mind and meaning of the propositions, and had oftentimes half a dozen at once speaking against him, al|ways hindering him to prosecute his argument, and to an|swer accordingly: we will not speak of the hissing, scoffing, and taunting, which wonderfully then was used. If on this sort, and much worse, they handled these fathers, much more will they be shamelessly bold with us, if we should 〈◊〉〈◊〉 into disputation with them.

SIXTHLY, Because the notaries, that shall receive and write the disputations, shall be of their appointment, and such as either do not or dare not favour the truth, and there|fore must write either to please them, or else they them|selves, (the censors and judges we mean) at their pleasure will put to, and take from that which is written by the no|taries;

who cannot, or must not have in their custody that which they write, longer than the disputation endureth, as their doings at Oxford declare. No copy nor scroll could any man have by their good will. For the censors and judges will have all delivered into their hands. Yea, if any man was seen there to write, as the report is, the same man was sent for, and his writings taken from him: so must the disputation serve only for the glory, not of God, but of the enemies of his truth.

FOR these causes we all think it so necessary not to dis|pute with them, as if we did dispute we should do that which they desire and purposely seek, to promote the kingdom of Antichrist, and to suppress (as much as may be) the truth. We will not speak of the offence that might come to the godly, when they should hear, by report of our enemies, our answers and arguments framed (you may be sure) for their fantasies, to the slandering of the truth.

THEREFORE we publish, and by this writing notify un|to the whole congregation and church of England, that for these aforesaid causes we will not dispute with them, other|wise than with the pen, unless it be before the queen's high|ness and her council, or before the houses of the parliament, as is above said. If they will write, we will answer, and by writing confirm and prove out of the infallible truth, even the very word of God, and by the testimony of the good and most ancient fathers in Christ's church, this our faith and every piece thereof, which we, in a summary way, do write and send abroad purposely, that our good brethren and sisters in the Lord may know it: and to seal up the same, we are ready, through God's help and grace, to give our lives to the halter or fire, or otherwise, as God shall ap|point: humbly requiring, and in the bowels of our Saviour Jesus Christ, beseeching all that fear God, to behave them|selves as obedient subjects to the queen's highness and the superior powers, which are ordained of God under her, rather after our example to give their heads to the block, than in any point to rebel, or once to mutter against the Lord's annointed; we mean our sovereign lady queen Ma|ry, into whose heart we beseech the Lord of mercy plenti|fully to pour the wisdom and grace of his Holy Spirit, now and for ever. Amen.

FIRST, We confess and believe all the canonical books of the Old Testament, and all the books of the New Testament, to be the very true word of God, and to be written by the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, and are therefore to be heard accordingly, as the judge in all controversies and matters of religion.

SECONDLY, We confess and believe, that the catholic church, which is the spouse of Christ, as a most obedient and loving wife, doth embrace and follow the doctrine of these books in all matters of religion, and therefore is she to be heard accordingly; so that those who will not hear this church, thus following and obeying the word of her husband, we account as heretice and schismatics, according to this saying, "If he will not hear the church, let him be to thee as a heathen."

THIRDLY, We believe and confess all the articles of faith and doctrine set forth in the symbol of the apostles, which we commonly call the creed, and in the symbols of the council of Nice, kept in the year 324 of Constantino|ple, in the year 384 of Ephesus, in the year 432 of Chalce|don, in the year 454 of Toletum the first and fourth. Also in the symbols of Athanasius, Ireneus, Tertullian, and of Damascus, which was about the year of our Lord 376, we confess and believe (we say) the doctrine of the symbols generally and particularly: so that whosoever doth other|wise, we hold the same to err from the truth.

FOURTHLY, We believe and confess concerning justifi|cation, that as it cometh only from God's mercy through Christ, so it is perceived and had of none, which be of years of discretion, otherwise than by faith only: which faith is not an opinion, but a certain persuasion wrought by the Holy Ghost in the mind and heart of man, whereby as the mind is illuminated, so the heart is ready to submit itself to the will of God unfeignedly, and so sheweth forth an in|herent righteousness, which is to be discerned, in the article of justification, from the righteousness which God endueth us withal, justifying us; although inseparably they go to|gether. And this we do not for curiosity or contention sake, but for conscience sake, that it might be quiet, which it can never be, if we confound without distinction for|giveness of sins, and Christ's justice imputed to us, with regeneration and inherent righteousness. By this we dis|allow the papistical doctrine of free-will, of works of super|erogation, of merits, of the necessity of auricular confession, and satisfaction towards God.

FIFTHLY, We confess and believe concerning the exte|rior service of God, that it ought to be according to the word of God; and therefore in the congregation all things public ought to be done in such a tongue as may be most to edify, and not in Latin, where the people understand not the same.

SIXTHLY, We confess and believe that God only by Christ Jesus is to be prayed unto and called upon; and therefore we disallow invocation, or prayer to saints depart|ed this life.

SEVENTLY, We confess and belive, that as a man de|parteth this life, so shall he be judged in the last day gener|ally, and in the mean season is entered either into the sta••e of the blessed for ever ••or damned for ever, and therefore is either past all help, or else needs no help of any in this life. By reason whereof we affirm purgatory, masses of Scal••

〈◊〉〈◊〉, trentals, and such suffrages as the popish church 〈◊〉〈◊〉 obtrude as necessary, to be the doctrine of Antichrist.

EIGHTHLY, We confess and believe of the sacraments of Christ, which are baptism and the Lord's supper, that they ought to be ministered according to the institution of Christ, concerning the substantial parts of them; and that they be no longer sacraments, than they be had in use, and used to the end for which they were instituted.

AND here we plainly confess, that the mutilation of the Lord's supper, and the subtraction of the one kind from the lay people, is antichristian. And so is the doctrine of transubstantiation of the sacramental bread and wine, after the words of consecration, as they are called.

ITEM, The adoration of the sacrament with honour due unto God: the reservation and carrying about of the same.

ITEM, The mass to be a propitiatory sacrifice for the quick and dead, or a work that pleaseth God.

ALL these we believe and confess to be Antichrist's doc|trine: as is the prohibition of marriage, as unlawful to any state. And we doubt not, by God's grace, but we shall be able to prove all our confessions here to be most true, a|greeable to God's word, and consent of the catholic church, which followeth, and hath followed, the governance of God's Spirit, and the judgment of his word.

AND this through the Lord's help we will do, either in disputation by word before the queen's highness and her council, or before the parliament houses, of whom we doubt not but to be indifferently heard, or else with our p••••s, whensoever we shall be thereto, by them that have autho|rity, required and commanded.

IN the mean season, as obedient subjects, we shall behave ourselves towards all that be in authority, and not cease to pray to God for them, that he would govern them all, ge|nerally and particularly, with the Spirit of wisdom and grace. And so we heartily desire, and humbly pray all men to do, in no point consenting to any kind of rebellion or sedition against our sovereign lady the queen's highness: but where they cannot obey, without offending God, there to submit themselves with all patience and humility to suffer as the will and pleasure of the higher powers shall judge; as we are ready, through the goodness of the Lord, to suffer whatsoever they shall adjudge us unto, rather than we will consent to any doctrine contrary to this which we here con|fess, unless we shall be justly convinced thereof, either by writing or by word, before such judges as the queen's high|ness and her council, or the parliament houses shall appoint. For the universities and clergy have condemned our causes already by the bigger, but not by the better part, without all disputation of the same; and therefore most justly we may, and do appeal from them to be our judges in this be|half, except it may be in writing, that to all men the mat|ter may appear. The Lord of mercy endue us all with the Spirit of truth and grace, and of perseverance therein unto the end. Amen.

The 8th day of May, 1554.

• Robert Menaven, alias Robert Ferrar.
• Rowland Taylor
• John Philpot
• John Bradford
• John Wigorne
• Glouc. Episcopus, alias John Hooper
• Edward Crome
• John Rogers
• Laurence Saunders
• Edmund Laurence
• J. P.
• T. M.

TO these things abovesaid, I Miles Coverdale, late of Exon, do consent and agree, with these mine afflicted brethren being prisoners, signed with my own hand.

AND thus much concerning this present declara|tion subscribed by these preachers, which was on the 8th day of May.

ON the 19th of the said month, lady Elizabeth, the queen's sister, was brought to the Tower, and committed to the custody of sir John Williams, af|terwards lord Williams of Tame, by whom her highness was gently and courteously treated: who afterwards was had to Woodstock, and there com|mitted to the keeping of sir Henry Benifield, knight, of Oxborough, in Norfolk; who, on the other side, both forgetting her estate, and his own duty, as it is reported, shewed himself more hard and straight unto her, than either cause was given on her part, or reason of his own should have led him; of which we shall treat more at large hereafter, the Lord willing.

FRIDAY, July 20, king Philip arrived at South|ampton. The prince himself was the first that landed; who immediately as he set foot upon the land, drew out his sword, and carried it naked in his hand. A little without the town the mayor of Southampton, with certain commoners, met him, and delivered the keys of the town unto the prince, who removed his sword, naked as it was, out of his right hand into his left, and so received the keys of the mayor without any word speaking, or countenance of thankfulness, and after a while deli|vered the keys to the mayor again. At the town|gate the earl of Arundel and the lord Williams met him, and so he was brought to his lodging

WEDNESDAY following, July 25, being St. James's day, Philip prince of Spain, and Mary queen of England, were solemnly married in the cathedral church at Winchester, by the bishop of Winchester, in the presence, of a great number of noblemen of both realms. At the time of this marriage, the emperor's ambassador being present, openly pronounced, that, in consideration of that marriage, the emperor had granted and given unto his son the kingdom of Naples, &c.

WHEREUPON the first of August following, there was a proclamation, that from that time forth the stile of all manner of writing should be altered, and this following used:

"Philip and Mary, by the grace of God, king and qeeen of England, France, Naples, Jerusalem, and Ireland, defenders of the faith, princes of Spain and Sicily, archdukes of Austrich, dukes of Milan, Burgundy, and Brabant, Counties of Has|purge, Flanders, and Tyrol."

OF this marriage as the papists chiefly seemed to be very glad, so several of them, after divers studies to shew forth their inward affections, made inter|ludes and pageants; some drew forth genealogies, deriving his pedigree from Edward the Third, and John of Gaunt. Among others, Mr. White then bishop of Lincoln, (his poetical vein being drunk with joy of the marriage) made certain verses; a translation whereof we have here inserted.

The GENEALOGY of PHILIP and MARY, whereby both Princes are shewn to have descended from JOHN OF GAUNT, Son of EDWARD III. King of ENGLAND and FRANCE.

JOHN of Gaunt, father of princes, did beget John the puissant earl of Somerset: From him John, duke of Somerset, did spring, Whose daughter Marg'ret brought forth England's king, Henry the seventh, who, of life bereft, The throne unto his son prince Henry left: His daughter Mary, England's sceptre bears, And may she bear it long, exempt from cares.

Other VERSES of Mr. WHITE, Bishop of Lincoln, con|cerning the Marriage of PHILIP and MARY.

THE devil, that old enemy of mankind, Strives to prevent, though to it God's inclin'd, That Mary, England's queen, should join her hands To Spanish Philip in hymeneal hands. Against the match, with the dark prince of night, The helpless Scots and tim'rous French unite. With these hell's prelates join, Caiaphas's race, Eight married fathers, void of heav'nly grace, * 11.1 John Dudley, Wyat, and rebellious Kent, With * 11.2 Gray, conspire the marriage to prevent. But that the nuptials should performed be, * 11.3 Caesar and Flanders would, and Italy, Catholic bishops, and with these comply Five holy fathers, for their sanctity In fetters bound, the senate of the nation, And all true catholics in every station, Lords, commons, learned, ignorant, and we, 'Cause God himself doth thereunto agree. When Philip to queen Mary shall be join'd, Their blood its wonted course shall run refin'd▪

ANSWER to Mr. WHITE, Bishop of LINCOLN, by the Bishop of NORWICH.

THAT Mary should to Spanish Philip wed, And England's glory be extirpated, The devil wills; jointly with him agree, All Flanders, Italy, and Germany, Ca••aphas's race the mitred company Of popish bishops, five for impiety In prison cast: but God's extended arm Kindly supports us, and averts the harm: He nills the match, gives England liberty, With him the warlike Scots and French agree, Eight married in the Lord: and Dudley you, Foreboding dismal things, the marriage view, The senate nills; brave Wyat doth espouse With pious zeal his country's injur'd cause; With him Gray, and the Kentish folk comply▪ Either to gain their liberty, or die▪ Then say, what profits will the Spanish king, Having wedded Mary, to the English bring?

Another ANSWER by the same AUTHOR.

SATAN, your all confounding fire, 'tis plain▪ Would have queen Mary wed the prince of Spain; That so he may Britannia's noble race Eradicate, and suddenly deface. But God, the Father of the English still, Resents the rancour of his wicked will. Nor do the warlike French, nor Scots agree; Though Flanders, Italy, and Germany, Conspire and jointly strive that this may be. The mitred prelates all the match proclaim; Our holy fathers all decry the same.

The Eight, who sacred nuptial ties revere, Courageous, and unmoved by slavish fear, Will not, although the factious Five agree, That were imprison'd for impiety. Dudley the brave Northumbrian hero stands, Prompt t' oppose the matrimonial bands: And so will all prepar'd and ready be, That lov'd their country, laws, and liberty. Wyat the brave this gen'rous mind doth shew The nobles, commons, and the clergy too. Ye will the match, who are by nature prone To banish truth, and piety dethrone: But Gray, and all the Kentish folk declare Their just resentment at the married pair. What glory then from such a marriage springs? What splendor does it add unto the ancient kings?

Other VERSES answering to bishop WHITE, made by J. C.

THOUGH Philip to the English line pretend, And Mary from the Spanish line did descend; Yet for an English queen of * 11.4mongrel breed, To wed a Spanish prince, (as 'tis decreed) Is to her sire and nation a disgrace indeed. Th' admirers of old England's valour see, With truth and justice this can ne'er agree; But God the same does for our sins permit, And therefore patiently they suffer it. The people, if they are not strangely bent Against our welfare, never will consent To this unhappy match, foreboding ill: What's it to us, if th' adverse nation will? All pious men against the match contend; For they are mad indeed who it defend. The Eight, who sacred wedlock do revere▪ Than the imprison'd Five more wise appear; For this pernicious marriage they oppose, To save the nation from insulting foes. The hero of Northumberland withstands These inauspicious and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 bands: O dire, infernal counsellors, who will Promote this fatal match, presaging ill! Wyat, in war unhappily engaged, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the marriage generously engaged: 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for it was; but all the same withstood, Except th' unthinking popish multitude. Gray, and the Britons all will not agree That this unhappy match should ever be•• We, 'cause th•• Almighty wills it so, submit, And patiently 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and suffer it: 〈◊〉〈◊〉 worse things we shall bear, if Mary be In 〈◊〉〈◊〉 wedlock, Philip, join'd to thee.

Other VERSES answering likewise.

SAY, White, whom can you find that will agree, That Mary should to Philip married be? It matters not what the vain multitude Do will or nill (they're ignorant and rude). To will and nill is God's chief property: The question then is, What he wills to be? 'Cause God hath will'd the match, (you say) the same Ye will, and loudly every where proclaim: You ought indeed to know what God doth will, Because, dull fool, thou'rt ignorant of it still. This he hath will'd, that in his augury White should a lying pseudo-prophet be. A king, though not the * 11.5 king, she weds indeed, Herself an English queen, though not of English breed. She's pregnant and not pregnant, yet pretends, Her teeming womb a joyful offspring sends: This ye with hearts exulting wish to see; But lo! no offspring comes: this God would have to be. He for a season weds, and then forsakes her: One day a bride, the next a widow makes her: This God would have (whose vengeance overtakes her). So vain the prayers of wicked men are made, Who for their country's ruin have destruction laid. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

AFTER the consummation of the marriage, the king and queen removed from Winchester to several other places, and by easy journies came to Windsor|castle, where he was installed with the order of the garter, on Sunday August 12; at which time, an herald took down the arms of England at Windsor, and in the place of them would have set up the arms of Spain, but he was commanded to set them up again by certain lords. From thence they both removed to Richmond, and, by water, to London, and landed at the bishop of Winchester's house, through which they passed both into Southwark-park, and so to Southwark-house, called Suffolk-place, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 they lay that night, being the 18th of August.

THE next day the king and queen rode from Suf|folk-place (accompanied with a great number, as well of noblemen as gentlemen) through the city of London to Whitehall: and at London-bridge, as he entered at the draw-bridge, was a vain great spectacle set up, two images representing two giants, one named Corineus, and the other Gogmagog,

holding between them certain Latin verses, which for the vain ostentation of flattery I overpass.

AS they passed over the bridge, there was a num|ber of ordnance-shot off at the Tower, such, as by old mens' report, the like hath not been heard or seen these 100 years.

FROM London-bridge they passed the conduit in Gracechurch-street, which was finely painted, and among other things, the nine worthies, whereof king Henry VIII. was one. He was painted in harness, having in one hand a sword, and in the other hand a book, whereon was written Verbum Dei, "The word of God," delivering the same book, as it were, to his son king Edward, who was painted in a corner by him.

BUT this gave great offence: for the bishop of Winchester, lord chancellor, sent for the painter, and not only called him knave for painting a book in king Henry's hand, and especially for writing thereupon Verbum Dei, but also rank traitor and vil|lain, saying to him that he should rather have put the book into the queen's hand, who was also paint|ed there, for that she had reformed the church reli|gion, with other things according to the pure and sincere word of God indeed. The painter answer|ed, and said, That if he had known that had been the matter wherefore his lordship sent for him, he could have remedied it, and not troubled his lord|ship. The bishop answered, That it was the queen's majesty's will and commandment that he should send for him: and so commanding him to wipe out the book and Verbum Dei too, he sent him home. The painter departed, but fearing least he should leave some part either of the book, or of Verbum Dei, in king Henry's hand, he wiped away a piece of his fingers withal.

HERE I pass over other pageants shewed to him in passing through London, with the flattering ver|ses in Latin, wherein were blazed out in one place the five Philips, as the five worthies of the world, Philip of Macedon, Philip the emperor, Philip the bold, Philip the good, Philip prince of Spain and king of England.

IN another piece of poetry, king Philip was re|sembled by an image representing Orpheus, and all English people resembled to brute and savage beasts, following after Orpheus's harp, and dancing after king Philip's pipe. Not that I reprehend the art of the Latin verses, which was fine and cunning, but that I pass over the matter, having weightier things in hand; and also the fight at St. Paul's church side, of him that came down upon a rope tied to the battlements, with his head before, nei|ther staying himself with his hand nor foot; which shortly after cost him his life.

BUT one thing by the way I cannot let pass, touching the rood newly set up against this time, to welcome king Philip into St. Paul's church. The setting up of which rood was this, and may make as good a pageant as the best.

IN the 2d year of Mary, Bonner, bishop of Lon|don, in his royalty, and all his prebendaries about him, in St. Paul's quire, the rood (or cross) laid a|long upon the pavements, and also the doors of St. Paul's being shut, the bishop, with others, said and sung divers prayers by the rood: that being done, they anointed the rood with oil in divers places, and after anointing, crept unto it, and kissed it.

AFTER that, they took the said rood and weigh|ed it up, and set it in its old accustomed place, and all the while they were doing thereof, the whole quire sang Te Deum, and when that was ended, they rang the bells, not only for joy, but also for the notable and great fact they had done therein.

NOT long after this, a merry fellow came into St. Paul's, and spied the rood, with Mary and John now set up; whereto, among a great sort of people, he made low courtsey, and said, Sir, your mastership is welcome to town. I had thought to have talked further with your mastership, but that you be here clothed in the queen's colours. I hope that you be but a summer's bird, in that you are dressed in white and green.

THE prince, being in the church of St. Paul's, after Dr. Harpsfield had finished his oration in Latin, set forward through Fleet-street, and so came to White-hall, where he with the queen re|mained

four days after, and from thence removed unto Richmond.

AFTER this, all the lords had leave to depart into their countries, with strait commandment, to bring all their harness and artillery into the Tower of London with all speed. Now remained there no English lord at the court, but the bishop of Winchester. From Richmond they removed to Hampton-court, where the hall-door within the court was continually shut, so that no man might enter.

ABOUT the 8th of September, bishop Bonner began his visitation, who charged six men, in eve|ry parish, to enquire (according to their oaths) and to present before him, the 30th of September, all such persons as either had or should offend in any of his articles, which he had set forth, to the number of 37. Of the which visitation of Bonner, I have somewhat more largely to treat.

SEPTEMBER 17, was a proclamation in London, that all vagabonds and all masterless men, as well strangers as Englishmen, should depart the city within five days: and straitly charging all innhol|ders, victuallers, taverners, and al••house-keepers, with all others who sell victuals, that they (after the said five days) should not sell any meat, drink, or any kind of victuals to any serving man whatso|ever, unless he brought a testimonial from his master, to declare whose servant he was, and were in continual houshold with his said master, upon pain of the law if they offended herein.

UPON the Sunday following, the bishop of Winchester, lord chancellor of England, preached at St. Paul's Cross, at whose sermon were present all the council that were at the court; namely, the marquis of Winchester, the earl of Arundel, lord North, sir Anthony Brown, Mr. Rochester, Mr. Walgrave, Mr. Englefield, lord Fitzwater, and secretary Peter, and the bishops of London, Dur|ham, and Ely, which three sat under the bishop's arms. The gospel whereof he made his sermon, is written in the xxii. chapter of Matthew, where the Pharisees came unto Christ, and among them one asked Christ which was the greatest command|ment; Christ answered, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, &c. and thy neighbour•• as thyself, in these two is comprehend|ed the law and the prophets."

AFTER his long declaration of these words, speaking very much of love and charity, at last he had occasion upon St. James's words, to speak of the true teachers, and of the false teachers; say|ing, that all the preachers in king Edward's time, preached nothing but voluptuousness, and filthy and blasphemous lies, affirming their doctrine to be that false doctrine whereof St. James speaketh in his third chapter, saying, that it was full of per|verse zeal, earthly, full of discord and dissention, that the preachers afore-named would report no|thing truly, and that they taught that it was lawful for a man to put away his wife for adultery, and marry another, and that if a man vowed to-day, he might break it to morrow at his pleasure, with many other things which I omit. And when he spake of the sacrament, he said, that all the church from the begining have confessed Christ's natural body to be in heaven, and here to be in the sacrament, and so concluded that matter: and then willed all men to say with Joseph's brethren, "We have all sinned against our brother;" and so, said he, have I too. Then he declared what a noble king and queen we have, saying, that if he should go about to shew that the king came hither for no necessity or need, and what he had brought with him, it would be superfluous, seeing it is evidently known, that he hath ten times as much as we are in hope and possession of, affirming him to be as wise, sober, gentle, and temperate a prince as ever reign|ed in England, and if it were not so proved, then to take him for a false lyar for his so saying: ex|horting all men to make much of him, and to win him whilst we had him, and so should we also win all such as he hath brought with him: and so con|cluded.

TUESDAY, October 7, twenty carts came from Westminster, loaden (as it was noised) with gold and silver, and certain of the guard with them through the city to the Tower, and it was received

in by a Spaniard, who was the king's treasurer, and had custody of it within the Tower. It was matted about with mats, and mailed in little bun|dles about two feet long, and almost half a foot thick, and in every cart were six of those bundles. What it was indeed, God knoweth, for it is to us uncertain.

ABOUT the same time, or a little before, upon Corpus-Christi day, the procession being made in Smithfield, where, after the manner, the priest, with his box, went under the canopy, by chance there came by the way a certain simple man, na|med John Street, a joiner, of Coleman-street, who having some haste in his business, and finding no other way to pass through, by chance went under the canopy by the priest. The priest seeing the man so to presume to come under the canopy, be|••••g belike afraid, and worse feared than hurt, let 〈◊〉〈◊〉 pyx fall down. The poor man, being straight|way apprehended, was had to the compter, the priest accusing him before the council, as though he had come to slay him; whereas the poor man, as himself hath since declared unto us, had no such thought ever in his mind. When from the compt|er, he was had unto Newgate, where he was cast into the dungeon, there chained to a post, where he was cruelly and miserably handled, and so ex|tremely dealt withal, that being but simple before, he was now out of his wits altogether, and so upon the same had to Bedlam. Whereupon the brief chronicle of London in this point is not to be cre|dited, which untruly reported that he feigned him|self in Newgate to be mad: which we in writing of this history, by due inquisition of the party, have found to be cont••••••y▪

ABOUT the 5th of October, divers, as well hous|holders, as servants, and apprentices, were ap|prehended and taken, and committed to sundry prisons, for having and selling of certain books, which were sent into England by the preachers that fled into Germany and other countries; which books touched a great number so near, that within one fortnight there were little less than threescore impri|soned for this matter: among whom was Mr. Brown, a goldsmith, Mr. Sp••rk, a drape•• Ran|dal Tirer, a stationer, Mr. Beston, a merchant, with many others.

SUNDAY, October 14, the old bishop of Dur|ham preached in the shrouds.

October 18, the king came from Westminster to St. Paul's church, accompanied with a great number of noblemen, and there he was received under a canopy, at the west door, and so came into the chancel, where he heard mass, which a Spanish bishop and his own chaplain sung; and that done, he returned to Westminster to dinner.

FRIDAY, October 26, certain men, whereof I spake before, which were of Mr. Throgmorton's jury, being in number eight (for the other four were delivered out of prison, having submitted themselves), whereof Mr. Emanuel Lucas, and Mr. Whetstone were chief, were called before the council in the Star-chamber: where they all affirmed that they had done all things in that matter according to their knowledge, and with good consciences, even as they should answer before God at the day of judgment. When Mr. Lucas said openly before all the lords, that they had done in the matter like honest men, and true and faithful subjects, and therefore they humbly besought the lord chancellor, and the other lords, to intercede with the king and queen, that they might be discharged and set at liberty, and said that they were all contented hum|bly to submit themselves to their majesties, sa|ving and reserving their truth, consciences, and honesty. Some of the lords said, that they de|served to pay a 1000l. a-piece, and others said, that Mr. Lucas and Mr. Whetstone deserved to pay a 1000 marks a-piece, and the rest 500l. a-piece. At last, sentence was given by the lord chancellor, that they should pay a thousand marks a-piece, and that they should go to prison again, and there remain till further orders were taken for their punishment.

TUESDAY, October 30, the lord J. Gray was de|livered out of the Tower, and set at liberty.

SUNDAY, November 4, five priests did penance at Paul's-Cross, who were content to put away their wives, and take upon them again to minister. Each of them had a taper in his hand, and a rod, where|with the preacher did dispel them.

WEDNESDAY, November 7, the lord Paget, and sir Edward Hastings, master of the horse, were sent as ambassador••, I know not whither, but, as it was judged, to Cardinal Poole, who lay all that summer before at Brussels: and it was thought they were sent to accompany and conduct him into England, where at that time he was nominated and appointed bishop of Canterbury.

FRIDAY, November 9, Mr. Barlow, late bishop of Bath, and Mr. Cardmaker, were brought before the council, in the Star-chamber, where after com|munication they were committed to the Fleet.

SATURDAY, November 10, the sheriffs of Lon|don had orders to take an inventory of every one of their goods, which were of Mr. Throgmorton's jury, and to seal up their doors, which was done the same day. Mr. Whetstone, Mr. Lucas, and Mr. Kytely, were adjudged to pay 1000l. a-piece, and the rest 1000 marks a-piece, to be paid within one fortnight after. From this payment were exempted only four, who submitted themselves, whose names are these, Mr. Loe, Mr. Poynter, Mr. Beswike, and Mr. Carter.

MENTION has been made of the visitation of Edmund Bonner, bishop of London, which begun (as is said) about the month of September; for the better preparation whereof were set forth certain ar|ticles, to the number of 37; which articles, partly for the tediousness of them, partly for that Mr. Bale in a certain treatise hath sufficiently painted out the same in proper colours, partly also, because I will not infect this book with them, I pass them over, proceeding in the progress of this bishop in his visi|tation in the county of Essex; who passing thro' the said county of Essex, being attended with di|vers worshipful of the shire, (for so they were com|manded) arrived at Sterford in Hertfordshire, where he rested certain days, solacing himself after that painful peregrination, with no small feasting and banqueting with his attendants, at the house of one Parsons, his nephew, whose wife he commonly call|ed his fair niece; (fair she was indeed) and he took there great pleasure to hear her play upon the vir|ginals, wherein she excelled, insomuch that at every dinner (sitting by his sweet side) she arose and play|ed three several times at his request, of his good and spiritual devotion towards her. After some days were passed in this fashion, he proceeded in his popish visitation toward Hadham, his own house and parish, not more than two miles from Sterford, being there most solemnly rung out, as in all other places where he passed. At length drawing near un|to Hadham, when he heard no stirring there in ho|nour of his holiness, he grew into some choler, and the nearer he approached, the hotter was his fit: and the quieter the bells were, the unquieter was his mood. Thus rode he on, chafing and fuming with himself· "What meaneth (saith he) that knave the clerk, that he ringeth not? and the par|son, that he meeteth me not?" with other passion|ate expressions. There this patient prelate, coming to the town, alighted, calling for the key of the church, which was then all unready, since, as they pretended, he had come two hours before his time; whereupon he grew from choler to plain melan|choly, so as no man willingly would deal with him to qualify the raging humour so far incorporated in his breast. At last, the church door being open|ed, the bishop entered, and finding no sacrament hanging up, no rood-loft decked after the popish precept, (which had commanded about the same time a well favoured rood, cross, or image, and of tall stature, universally in all churches to be set up) curtailed his small devotions, and fell from cholar and melancholy to madness in the greatest degree, swearing and raging, with an hunting oath or two, (and by no small oaths) that in his own church, where he hoped to have seen the best order, he found most disorder, to his honour's most heavy discom|fort, as he said, calling the parson (whose name was Dr. Bricket) knave and heretic; who there hum|bled himself, and yielded, as it were, to his fault, saying, He was sorry his lordship was come before that he and his parish looked for him, and therefore could not do their duties to receive him according|ly: and as for those things which were lacking, he trusted in short time hereafter he should compass that which hitherto he could not bring about. Therefore if it pleased his lordship to come to his poor house, where his dinner was prepared, he would satisfy him in those things, which his lord|ship thought amiss. Yet this reasonable answer neither could satisfy, nor asswage his unreasonable passion. For the catholic prelate utterly defied him and his cheer, commanding him out of his sight,

saying, as his bye-word was, "Before God thou art a knave, avaunt heretic," and therewithal, whe|ther thrusting, or striking at him, so it was, that with his hand he gave sir Thomas Josselin (who then stood next the bishop) a good blow upon the ear; whereat, being somewhat astonished, sir Tho|mas said, What meaneth your lordship? have you been trained in Will Somer's school, to strike him who standeth next you? The bishop, still in a rage, either heard not, or would not hear. Upon which Mr. Fecknam, dean of St. Paul's, addres|sing the knight, said, "O Mr. Josselin, you must bear with my lord, for truly his long imprisonment in the Marshalsea, and the misusing of him there hath altered him, that in these passions he is not master of himself, no•• will it avail to give him coun|sel until his heat be passed, and then assure yourself Mr. Josselin, my lord will be sorry for those abuses, and that misconduct which he cannot now see in himself." To whom sir Thomas merrily replied, "So it seems, Mr. Fecknam, that now he is come forth from the Marshalsea, he is ready to go to Bed|lam." At which conceit some laughed, and more smiled, because the nail was hit so truly upon the head. The bishop appeared not in the least abashed at his own folly; and it is no wonder he was not ashamed to strike a stranger, who spared not the burning of so many good men.

THIS combat being finished, the martial prelate presently taketh him to his horse again, notwith|standing he at first intended to tarry at Hadham three or four days, and had made provisions in his own house accordingly; but leaving his dinner, he rode that night with a small company of his house|hold to Ware, to the great wonder of all the country, who looked not for his coming till three days after.

BUT though the bishop posted hastily away, his retinue thought it most prudent to tarry behind: and his doctors and chaplains, a few excepted, dined at Dr. Bricket's, as merrily as the bishop rode to Ware chasingly. Now the causes which induced him to leave a good dinner, were supposed to be, that his lordship was offended at not receiving those solemnities he was accustomed to be saluted withal in other places, and because his wooden god was not elevated seemly in the rood-loft to entertain stran|gers; on which account he took occasion to quarrel with Dr. Bricket; for the bishop had issued out his precept, that in every parish a rood, (a cross, cruci|fix, and other images) should be erected, both well favoured, and tall in stature: which brings to my mind (says Mr. Fox) what happened in a certain town in Lancashire, near to Lancaster, called Cock|ram, where the parishioners and church-wardens, having at the same time a like charge for the erect|ing of a rood in their parish church, had made their bargain, and were at a price with one that could cunningly carve and paint such idols, for the fra|ming of their rood; who, according to his promise, made them one, and set it up in their church. This done, he demanded his money: but they misliking his workmanship, refused to pay him; whereupon he arrested them, and the matter was brought be|fore the mayor of Lancaster, who was a very fit man for such a purpose, and an old favourer of the gospel, which is rare in that country. Then the carver began to declare how they covenanted with him for the making of a rood with the appurtenan|ces, ready carved and set up in their church, which he according to his promise had 〈◊〉〈◊〉: and now demanding his money, they refuse•• to pay him. Is this true? quoth the mayor 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the wardens. Yes, sir, said they. And why do you not pay the poor man his due? quoth he▪ May it please you, master mayor, quoth they, because the rood we had before was a well-favoured man, and he promised to make us such another: but this that he hath set up now, is the worst favoured thing that ever you set your eyes on, gaping and grinning in such sort, that none of our children dare once look him in the face, or come near him. The mayor thinking that it was good enough for that purpose, if it had been worse, My masters, quoth he, howsoever you like the rood, the poor man's labour hath been never the less, and it is a pity that he should have any hindrance or loss thereby. Therefore I will tell you what you shall do: pay him the money you promised him, and go your ways home and look on it, and if it will not serve for a god, make no more ado, but clap a pair of horns on his head, and so he will make an excellent devil. This the parishioners took exceeding well; the poor man had his money, and divers laughed well thereat: but so did not the Babylonish priests.

THIS mayor continued a protestant almost 50 years, and was the only reliever of Mr. March, the martyr, (whose story followeth hereafter) with meat, drink, and lodging, while he lay in Lancaster-castle, the space of three quarters of a year, before he was had to Chester to be burned, &c.

CHAP. VI. BISHOP BONNER's MANDATE.—The QUEEN's supposed PREGNANCY.—CARDI|NAL POOLE's ORATION.—The SUBMISSION of the LORDS and COMMONS to the QUEEN.—A LETTER to the POPE from CARDINAL POOLE.—ORDERS and PRAYERS on Account of MARY's CONCEPTION.—LETTERS of MR. HOOP|ER, BISHOP of WORCESTER.—TRANSACTIONS of the PRIVY COUNCIL, &c. in 1555.—A SUPPLICATION of the Persecuted MINISTERS to the KING and QUEEN.

ABOUT this time came forth a precept, or mandate, from Bonner, Bishop of London, to all bishops and curates within his diocese, for a|bolishing of such scripture passages and writings as had been painted upon church-walls in king Ed|ward's days; the copy whereof is inserted here, that the present generation may see the wicked pro|ceedings of their impious zeal, or rather their ma|licious rage against the Lord and his word; as also against the edifying of christian people; and hence will appear, not only how blasphemously they spake against the holy scriptures, but likewise how studi|ously they sought by all manner of means to keep the people still in ignorance.

A MANDATE of BISHOP BONNER, to abolish the SCRIPTURE and WRITINGS painted upon CHURCH-WALLS.

EDMUND, (by God's permission) bishop of London, to all and every parsons, vicars, clerks, and lettered, within the parish of Hadham, or within the precinct of our diocese of London, wheresoever being, sendeth greeting, grace, and benediction.

BECAUSE some children of iniquity, given up to carnal desires and novelties, have by many ways enterprizing to banish the ancient manner and order of the church, and to bring in and establish sects and heresies; taking from thence the picture of Christ, and many things besides instituted and observed of ancient time laudably in the same, placing in the room thereof such things, as in such a place it behov|ed them not to do, and also have procured as a stay to their heresies (as they thought) certain scriptures wrongly ap|plied to be painted upon the church-walls, all which per|sons tend chiefly to this end; that they might uphold the liberty of the flesh, and marriage of the priests, and destroy, as much as lay in them, the reverent sacrament of the altar, and might extinguish and enervate holy days, fasting-days, and other laudable discipline of the catholic church, opening a window to all vices, and utterly closing up the way unto virtue: wherefore we being moved with a christian zeal, judging that the premises are not to be longer suffered, do, for discharge of our duty, commit unto you jointly and se|verally, and by the tenor hereof do straitly charge and com|mand you, that after the receipt hereof, with all speed con|venient, you do warn, or cause to be warned, first, second, and third time, and peremptorily, all and singular church-wardens and parishioners whosoever within our aforesaid diocese of London, wheresoever any such scriptures or paintings have been attempted, that they abolish and extin|guish such manner of scriptures, so that by no means they be either read or seen, and therein to proceed moreover as they shall see good and laudable in this behalf. And if, af|ter the said monition, the said church-wardens and parishi|oners shall be found remiss and negligent, or culpable, then you jointly and severally shall see the aforesaid scriptures to be razed, abolished, and extinguished forthwith: citing all and singular those church-wardens and parishioners, (whom we also for the same do cite here by the tenor here|of) that all and singular the church-wardens and parishoni|ers

being slack and negligent, culpable therein, shall ap|pear before us, our vicar general and principal official, or our commissary special in our cathedral church of St. Paul at London, in the consistory there, at the hour appointed for the same, the sixth day next after their citation, if it be a court-day, or else at the next court-day after ensuing, where either we or our official or commissary shall sit; there to say and alledge for themselves some reasonable cause, if they have or can tell of any, why they ought not to be excommunicated, or otherwise punished for such their ne|gligence, slackness, and fault, to say and to alledge, and fur|ther to do and receive, as law and reason requireth. And what you have done in the premises, do you certify us, or our vicar, principal official, and such our commissary, dili|gently and duly in all things, and through all things, or let him among you thus certify us, which hath taken upon him to execute this mandate. In witness whereof we have set our seals to these presents Dated in the bishop's palace at London, the 25th day of the month of October, in the year of our Lord 1554, and of our translation the 16th.

ABOUT this time the Lord Chancellor sent M. Christopherson unto the university of Cambridge, with these three articles, which he enjoined them to observe.

THE first, that every scholar should wear his ap|parel according to his degree in the schools.

THE second was touching the pronunciation of the Greek tongue.

THE third, that every preacher there should de|clare the whole stile of the king and queen in their sermons.

IN this university of Cambridge, and also of Ox|ford, by reason of introducing these things, especi|ally for the alteration of religion, many wise and learned men departed from the universities: of whom, some of their own accord gave over, some were thrust out of their fellowships, some were miserably handled: insomuch that in Cambridge, in the college of St. John, there were 24 places void together, in whose rooms were taken in 24 others, which neither in virtue nor religion were to be com|pared to those that were before. And no less mi|serable was the estate of Oxford, by reason of the time, and the strait-dealing of the visitors, who for setting forward their papistical proceedings, had no regard or respect to the forwardness of good wits, and the maintenance of good letters, beginning then more and more to flourish in that university.

NOR must we pass over in silence the famous ex|hortation of Dr. Tresham, who supplying the room of the sub-dean in Christ-church, after he had call|ed the students of the college together, with great eloquence and art, began to commend the dignity of the mass unto them, declaring, that there was stuff enough in the scripture to prove the mass good. Then to allure them to the catholic service of the church, he used these reasons, declaring that there were a goodly company of copes, that were appoint|ed to Windsor, but he had found the queen so gra|cious unto him, that they should come to Christ's-church. Now, if they like honest men would come to church, they should wear them on holy days. And besides all this, he would get them the lady bells of Bampton, and that should make the sweet|est ring in all England. And as for holy water to sprinkle, he had already the fairest that was within the realm. Wherefore he thought that no man would be so mad to forego these commodities, &c.

HENCE appeareth what want of discretion is in the fathers of popery, and into what idle follies such men do fall, whom, if it be his pleasure, may the Lord convince, and open their eyes to see their gross ignorance. But to proceed with our narrative.

ON Monday, November 22d, the parliament met; at the opening whereof, both the king and queen rode to the house of lords in their robes, having two swords borne before them: the earl of Pembroke bore the king's sword, and the earl of Westmoreland the queen's. They had also two caps of maintenance borne before them, whereof the earl of Arundel bore one, and the earl of Shrews|bury the other.

WEDNESDAY, 21st, Cardinal Poole landed at Do|ver, on which day an act passed for his restitution in blood, utterly repealing, as false and most slan|derous, that act made against him in the reign of Henry VIII: and on the next day, November 22d, the king and queen came to the parliament-house to give the royal assent to this act, and to establish the same against his coming.

SATURDAY, 24th, the cardinal came by water to London, and so to Lambath-house, which was rea|dy prepared against his coming.

WEDNESDAY, 18th, there was a general proces|sion in St. Paul's, for joy that the queen had con|ceived and quick with child, as was declared in the letter sent from the council to the bishop of London. At this procession, ten bishops, and all the preben|daries of St. Paul's were present, and also the lord mayor with the aldermen, and a great number of the commons of the city in their best array. The following is a copy of the council's letter.

A LETTER, From the COUNCIL to EDMUND BONNER, BISHOP of LONDON, concerning QUEEN MARY's CONCEPTION.

AFTER our hearty commendations unto your good lordship: whereas it hath pleased Almighty God a|mongst other his infinite benefits of late most graciously pour|ed upon us and this whole realm, to extend his benedic|tion upon the queen's majesty in such sort, as she is conceiv|ed and quick of child: whereby her majesty (being our natural liege lady, queen, and undoubted inheritor of this imperial crown) good hope of certain succession in the crown is given unto us, and consequently the great cala|mities (which for want of such succession might otherwise have fallen upon us and our posterity) shall by God's grace be well avoided, if we thankfully acknowledge this benefit of Almighty God, endeavouring ourselves with earnest re|pentance to thank, honour and serve him, as we are most bounden: these are not only to advertise you of these good news, to be by you published in all places within your diocese, but also to pray and require you, that both your|self do give God thanks with us for this his especial grace, and also give order that thanks may be openly given by singing of Te Deum in all the churches within your said diocese; and that likewise all priests and other ecclesiasti|cal ministers, in their masses, and other divine services, may continually pray to Almighty God so to extend his holy hand over her majesty, the king's highness, and this whole realm, as this thing, being by his omnipotent pow|er graciously thus begun, may by the same be well con|tinued and brought to good effect, to the glory of his name. Whereupon, albeit we doubt not, ye would of yourself have had special regard without these our letters, yet for the earnest desire we have to have this thing done out of hand, and diligently continued, we have also written these our letters, to put you in remembrance; and so bid your lordship most heartily well to fare. From Westminster, the 27th of November, 1554.

Your assured loving frinds,

• S. Winton
• Arundel
• F. Shrewsbury
• Edward Darby
• Henry Sussex
• John Bathon
• R. Rich
• Thomas W••tthom
• John Huddilstone
• R. Southwell.

THE same day, in the afternoon, cardinal Poole came to the parliament house, which at that time was kept in the great chamber of the court at Whitehall, for that the queen was then sick, and could not go abroad: where the king and queen's majesty sitting under the cloth of state, and the car|dinal sitting on the right hand, with all the other estates of the parliament being present, the bishop of Winchester, being lord chancellor, began in this manner:

MY lords of the upper house, and you my masters of the nether house; here is present the right reve|rend father in God my lord cardinal Poole, come from the apostolic see of Rome, as ambassador to the king and queen's majesties, upon one of the weightiest causes that ever happened in this realm, and which pertaineth to the glory of God, and your universal benefit. The which ambassage their majesties' pleasure is to be signified unto you all by his own mouth, trusting that you will receive and accept it in as benevolent and thankful wise as their highnesses have done, and that you will give a•• attentive and inclinable ear unto him.

THE lord chancellor having ended, the cardinal began his oration, wherein he declared the causes of his coming, and what were his desires and requests. In the mean time, the court gate was kept shut un|til he made an end of his oration.

The ORATION of CARDINAL POOLE, in the PARLIAMENT HOUSE.

MY lords all, and you that are in the commons of this present parliament assembled, which in effect is nothing else but the state and body of the whole realm▪ as the cause of my coming hither hath been most wisely and gravely declared by my lord chancellor, so, before I enter upon the particularities of my commission, I have somewhat touching myself, and to give most humble and hearty thanks to the king and queen's majesties, and after them to you all, which of a man exiled and banished from

this commonwealth, have restored me to be a member of the same, and of a man having no place either here, or elsewhere, within this realm, have admitted me in a place, where to speak and to be heard. This I protest unto you all, that though I was exiled my native country without just cause, as God knoweth, yet the ingratitude could not take from me the affection and desire that I had to profit and do you good. I•• the offer of my service might have been received, it was never to seek; and where that could not be taken, you never fa••led of my prayer, nor ever shall.

BUT leaving the rehearsal thereof, and coming more 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to the matter of my commission, I signify unto you all, that my principal travel is for the restitution of this noble realm to the ancient nobility, and to declare unto you, that the see apostolic, from whence I come, had a special respect to this realm above all other, and not with|out cause, seeing that God himself, as it were by provi|dence, hath given this realm prerogative of nobility above others: which to make more plain unto you, it is to be considered that this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 first of all islands received the light of Christ's 〈◊〉〈◊〉. For 〈…〉〈…〉, it was the first that embraced the christian 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

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〈…〉〈…〉 great learned man, who first brought learning to that uni|versity, whereby it seemeth that the greatest part of the world derived the light of religion from England.

ADRIAN the Fourth, being an Englishman, converted Norway from infidelity, which Adrian afterwards, upon great affection and love that he bare to this realm, being his native country, gave to Henry II. king of England, the right and seignory of the dominion of Ireland which pertaineth to the see of Rome.

I will not rehearse the manifold benefits that this realm hath received from the apostolic see, nor how ready the same hath been to relieve us in all our necessities. Nor will I rehearse the manifold miserie•• and calam••••ies that this realm hath suffered by swerving from that unity. And even as in this realm, so also in all other countries, which, refusing the unity of the catholic faith, have followed ••••ntastical doctrine, the like plagues have happened. Let Asia and the empire of Greece be a spectacle unto the world, who, by swerving from the unity of the church of Rome, are brought into cap|tivity and subjection of the Turks. All stories are full of the like examples. And to come unto the later time, look upon our neighbours in Germany, who, by swerving from this unity, are miserably afflicted with diversity of sects, a••d divided into factions.

WHY should I rehearse unto you the tumults and ••••••|sion of blood that hath happened there of late days▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉 trouble you with the rehearsal of those plagues that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 happened since this innovation of religion, whereof you ••••ve felt the bitterness, and I have heard the report? Of all which matters I can say no more, but such was the misery of the time. And see how far forth this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 went. For those that live under the Turks, may freely live after their conference, and so was it not lawful 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

IF m••n examine well upon what grounds th••s•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 began, they shall well find the root of this 〈…〉〈…〉 other mischiefs, was 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and that the lust and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 affection of one man confounded all laws both 〈…〉〈…〉. And notwithstanding all th••se devices and 〈…〉〈…〉 within this realm against the church 〈…〉〈…〉 they needed not to have lost you, but that th•••• 〈…〉〈…〉 as friends to reconcile you, than a great 〈…〉〈…〉. For they wanted not 〈…〉〈…〉 mighty 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in all Europe to 〈…〉〈…〉 that 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Than mark the 〈…〉〈…〉 these 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to rise a great fac•• of riches 〈…〉〈…〉 came to great misery and lack. 〈…〉〈…〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 confound the wisdom of the wise, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 unjust 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to 〈…〉〈…〉, and that thing which seemed to be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for relief, was cause of plain ruin and decay. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 see that goodness of God, which at no time failed us, but most 〈◊〉〈◊〉 offered his grace, when it was of our parts 〈…〉〈…〉 diserved.

AND when all light of true religion seemed utterly ex|tinct, the churches defaced, the altars overthrown, the mi|nisters corrupted; even like as in a lamp the light being covered, yet it is not quenched, even so in a few remained the confession of Christ's faith, namely, in the breast of the queen's excellency, of whom, to speak without adulation, the saying of the prophet may be verified, "Behold, she is as one forsaken!"

AND see how miraculously God of his goodness preserv|ed her highness, contrary to the expectation of man, that when numbers conspired against her, and policies were de|vised to disinherit her, and armed power prepared to destroy her; yet, she being a virgin helpless, naked, and unarmed, prevailed and had the victory over tyrants; which is not to be ascribed to any policy of man, but to the almighty great goodness and providence of God, to whom the honour is to be given. And therefore it may be said, Give glory to God. For in man's judgment, on her grace's part was nothing in appearance but despair.

AND yet for all these practices and devices of ill men, here you see her grace established in her estate, being your lawful queen and governess, born among you, whom God hath appointed to reign over you, for the restitution of true religion, and extirpation of all errors and sects. And to confirm her grace the more strongly in this interprize, lo! how the providence of God hath joined her in marriage with a prince of like religion; who being a king of great might, armour, and force, yet useth towards you neither armour nor force but seeketh you by the way of love and amity; in which respect great cause you have to give thanks to Almighty God, that hath sent you a catholic governess It shall be therefore your part again to love, obey, and serve them.

AND as it was a singular favour of God to conjoin them in marriage, so it is not to be doubted but that he shall send them issue, for the comfort and surety of this com|monwealth.

OF all princes in Europe, the emperor hath travelled most in the cause of religion, as it appeareth by his acts in Germany; yet happily, by some secret judgment of God, he hath not atchieved the end. With whom in my journey hitherwards I had conference touching my ambassy; where|of, when we had understanding, he shewed a great appear|ance of most earnest joy and gladness, saying, "That it re|joiced him no less of the reconcilement of this realm unto christian unity, than that his son was placed by marriage in the kingdom; and most glad he was of all, that the occasion thereof should come by me being an Englishman born, which is (as it were) to call home ourselves. I can well compare him to David, who, though he were a man elect of God, yet, for that he was contaminate with blood and war, could not build the temple of Jerusalem, but left the finishing thereof to Solomon, who was a peace-making king. So may it be thought, that the appeasing of contro|versies of religion in christianity, is not appointed to this emperor, but rather to his son, who shall perform the build|ing that his father had begun. Which church cannot be perfectly built, unless universally in all realms we adhere to one head, and do acknowledge him to be the vicar of God, and to have power from above: for all power is of God, according to the saying, "There is no power, but comes from God." And therefore I consider that all power being in God, yet for the conservation of quiet and godly life in the world, he hath derived that power from above into the parts here in earth; which is, into the imperial and ecclesi|astical. And these two powers, as they be several and dis|tinct, so have they two several effects and operations. For secular princes, to whom the temporal sword is committed, are ministers of God to execute vengeance upon transgres|sors and evil livers, and to preserve the well-doers and in|nocent from injury and violence. Which power is repre|sented in these two most excellent persons, the king and queen's majesties here present, who have this power com|mitted unto them immediately from God, without any su|perior in that behalf.

THE other power is of ministration, which is the power of the keys, and order in the ecclesiastical state, which is by the authority of God's word, examples of the apostles, and of all holy fathers from Christ hitherto, attributed and given to the apostolic see of Rome, by special prerogative. From which see I am here deputed legate and ambassador, having full and ample commission from thence, and have the keys committed to my hands: I confess to you I have the keys, not as mine own keys, but as the keys of him that sent me, and yet cannot open: not for want of power in me to give, but for certain impediments in you to receive, which must be taken away before my commission can take effect. This I protest before you, my commission is not of prejudice to any person. I come not to destroy, but to build; I come to reconcile, not to condemn; I am not come to compel, but to call again; I am not come to call any thing in question already done, but my commission is of grace and clemency to such as will receive it. For as touching all matters that are past, they shall be as things cast into the sea of forget|fulness.

BUT the means whereby you shall receive this benefit, is to revoke and repeal those laws and statutes, which were impedi|ments, blocks, and bars to the execution of my commission. For like as I myself had neither place nor voice to speak here among you, but was in all respects a banished man, till such time as ye had repealed those laws that lay in my way, even so cannot you receive the benefits and grace offered from the apostolic see, until the abrogation of such laws, whereby you have disjoined and dissevered yourselves from the unity of Christ's church.

IT remaineth therefore that you, like true christians, and

provident men for the weal of your souls and bodies, pon|der what is to be done in this so weighty a cause; and so to frame your acts and proceedings, as they may first tend to the glory of God, and next to the conservation of your com|monwealth, surety, and quietness.

THE next day the three estates assembled again in the great chamber of the court at Westminster; where the king, queen, and the cardinal being pre••sent, they did exhibit (all kneeling) a supplication to their highnesses; the tenor whereof followeth.

The SUPPLICATION and SUBMISSION of the LORDS and COMMONS, assembled in PAR|LIAMENT, to their MAJESTIES MARY and PHILIP.

WE the lords spiritual and temporal, and the commons of this present parliament assembled, representing the whole body of the realm of England and dominions of the same, in our own names particularly, and also of the said body universally, in this supplication directed to your ma|jesties with most humble suit, that it 〈◊〉〈◊〉, by your gracious intercession and means, be exhibited to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••ost reverend father in God, the lord cardinal Pool••, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, but specially hither from our most holy father pope Julius the third, and the see apostolic of Rome, do declare ourselves very sorry and repentant for the chism and disobedience committed in this realm and dominions of the same, against the said see apostolic, either by making, agreeing or executing any laws, ordinances, or commandments against the supremacy of the said see, or otherwise doing or speaking that might impugn the same: offering ourselves, and promising by this our supplication, that for a token and knowledge of our said repentance, we are, and shall be always ready, under and with the authority of your majesties, to the uttermost of our power, to do that which shall be in us for the abro|gation and repealing of the said laws and ordinances in this present parliament; as well for ourselves, as for the whole body whom we represent.

WHEREUPON we most humbly beseech your majesties, as persons undefiled in the offence of this body towards the the said see, which nevertheless God by his providence hath made subject unto your majesties, so to set forth this our most humble suit, that we may obtain from the see apostolic, by the said most reverend father, as well parti|cularly as universally, absolution, release, and discharge from all danger of such censures and sentences, as by the laws of the church we be fallen in; and that we may, as children repentant, be received into the bosom and unity of Christ's church; so as this noble realm, with all the members thereof, may in unity and perfect obedience to the see apostolic, and pope for the time being, serve God and your majesties, to the furtherance and advancement of his honour and glory. Amen.

THE supplication being read, the king and queen delivered the same unto the cardinal, who, (per|ceiving the effects thereof to answer his expectation) did receive the same most gladly from their majes|ties: and after he had in a few words given thanks to God, and declared what great cause he had to rejoice above all others, that his coming from Rome into England had taken such happy success, he, by the pope's authority, did give them this absolution following:

OUR Lord Jesus Christ, who with his most precious blood hath redeemed and washed us from all our sins and iniquities, that he might purchase unto himself a glorious spouse without spot or wrinkle, and whom the Father hath appointed head over all his church, he by his mercy absolve you. And we by apostolic authority given unto us (by the most holy l••••d pope Julius third, his vicegere••t on earth) do absolve and deliver you, and every of you, w••th the whole realm an•• dominions thereof, from all heresy and schism, and from 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and every judgment, censures, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for that cause 〈◊〉〈◊〉; and also we do restore you 〈…〉〈…〉 the unit 〈…〉〈…〉 mother the ho|ly church, as in our letters mor•• 〈…〉〈…〉 shall appear: in the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.

HAVING finished this business, they went into the chapel, and there singing Te Deum, with great solemnity, declared the joy that for this reconcilia|tion was pretended.

THE report of which was with great speed sent unto Rome; as well by the king and cardinal's letters, which hereafter follow, as also otherwise. Whereupon the pope caused three processions to be made at Rome, and thanks to be given to God, with great joy, for the conversion of England to his church; and therefore praising the cardinal's diligence, and the devotion of the king and queen, on Christmas eve, by his bulls he set forth a general pardon to all such as did truly rejoice for the same.

KING PHILIP's LETTER to POPE JULIUS.

MOST holy father, I wrote yesterday unto Don John Maurique, that he should declare by word of mouth, or else write, to your holiness, in what good state the mat|ter

of religion stood in this realm, and of the submission to your holiness, as to the chief. As this day, which is the feast of St. Andrew, late in the evening, we have done God that service (to whose only goodness we must impute it, and to your holiness, who have taken so great pains to gain these souls) that this realm with full and general consent of all them that represent the state, being very penitent for what was past, and well bent for that they come to do, submitted themselves to your holiness, and to that holy see; whom, at the request of the queen and me, your legate did absolve. And forasmuch as the said Don John shall signify unto your holiness all that passed in this matter, I will write no more thereof, but only that the queen and I, as most faithful and devout children of your holiness, have received the greatest joy and comfort there|of, that may be expressed with tongue; considering that besides the service done to God hereby, it hath chanced in the time of your holiness, to place as it were in the lap of the holy catholic church such a kingdom as this. And therefore I think I cannot be thankful enough for that it is done this day. And I trust in him, that your holiness shall always understand, that the holy see hath not had a more obedient son than I, nor more desirous to preserve and increase the authority of the same. God guide and prosper the most holy personage of your holiness as I desire.

Your holiness's most obedient son the king, &c.

London, Nov. 30th, 1554.

CARDINAL POOLE's LETTER to the POPE.

THOSE things which I wrote unto your holiness of late of that hope which I trusted would come to pass, that in a short space this realm would be reduced to the unity of the church, and obedience of the apostolic see, though I did write then not without great cause; yet ne|vertheless I could not be void of all fear, not only for that difficulty which the minds of our countrymen did shew, being so long alienated from the see apostolic, and for the old hatred which they had borne so many years to that name: but much more I feared, lest the first entry into the cause itself should be put off by some other matter or convention coming betwixt.

FOR the avoiding whereof, I made great means to the king and queen, which little needed▪ for their own godli|ness, forwardness▪ and earnest desire to bring the thing to pass, far surmounted my great and earnest expectation. This day in the evening, being St. Andrew's day, (who first brought his brother Peter to Christ) it is come to pass, by the providence of God, that this realm is reclaimed to give due obedience unto Peter's seat and your holiness, by whose means it may be conjoined to Christ the head, and his holy body, which is the church. The thing was done and concluded in parliament (the king and queen being present) with such full consent and great rejoicing, that incontinently, after I had made my oration, and given the benediction, with a great joy and shout there was di|vers times said, Amen, Amen. Which doth evidently declare that that holy seed, although it had been long oppressed, yet was not utterly quenched in th••••; which 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was declared in the nobility. Returning home to my house, these things I wrote unto your holiness, upon the sudden rejoicing that I had so luckily brought to pass so weighty a matter by the divine providence, thinking to have sent my letters by the king's post, who (as it was said) should have departed shortly; but afterwards changing my purpose, when I had determined to send one of mine own men, I thought good to add thus much to my letters, for the more ample gratulation and rejoicing at that good chance; which thing as it was right great gladness to me, through the event of the same (being itself very great and so holy, so profitable to the whole church, so healthful to this my country which brought me forth, so honourable to the same which received me), so likewise I took no less re|joicing of the princes themselves, through whose virtue and godliness the matter did take success and perfection. Of how many, and how great things may the church (which is the spouse of Christ, and our mother) make her account through those her children? Oh notable 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of godliness! Oh ancient faith! which undoubtedly doth ••o manifestly appear in them both, that whoso seem them, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 needs (whether he will or no) say the same which the prophet spake of the first children of the church: "These are the seed which the Lord hath blessed. This is the Lord's planting to glory in." How holily did your holiness with all your authority and earnest affection favour this marriage! which truly seemeth to express a great similitude of the highest king, which being heir of the world, was sent down by his Father from the regal sent, to be spouse and son of the virgin, and by this means to comfort all mankind: for even so this king himself, the greatest heir of all men which are in the earth, leaving his father's kingdoms that are most great, is come into this little king|dom, and is become both the spouse and son of this virgin, (for he so behaveth himself as though he were a son, whereas indeed he is a husband) that he might, as he hath in effect already 〈◊〉〈◊〉, shew himself an alder and helper go reconcile this people to Christ and his body, which is the church. Which things, seeing they are so, what may not our mother the church herself look for at his hands, that hath brought this to pass, to convert the hearts of the fathers towards their sons, and the unbeliever•• to the wisdom of the righteous! which virtue ••••••ly doth wonderfully shine in him. But the queen, which at that time, when your holiness sent me legate unto her, did rise up as a rod springing out of trees of myrrh, and is frank|incense out of the desert: she, I say, which a little before was forsaken of all men, how wonderfully doth she now shine! What a savour of myrth and frankincen•••• doth she give unto her people! which (as the prophet saith of the mother of Christ) brought forth before she laboured, be|fore

she was delivered, brought forth a man-child: who ever heard of such a thing? and who hath seen the like of this? shall the earth bring forth in one day, or shall a whole nation be brought forth together? But she hath now brought forth a whole nation before the time of ••at deli|very, whereof we are in most great hope.

HOW great cause is given us to rejoice? how great cause have we to give thanks to God's mercy, your holiness, and the emperor's majesty, which have been causers of so happy and so godly a marriage; by which we being reconciled, are joined to God the Father, to Christ, and to the church? Of the which although I cannot comprehend in words the joy that I have taken, yet I cannot keep silence of it. And to this my rejoicing this also was joined, (which when I had perceived by the letters of the reverend archbishop of Con|sine, your holiness's nuncio with the emperor's majesty, brought me marvellous great gladness) that your said holi|ness began to restore to the ancient beauty those things, which in the church of Rome, through the corruption of times were deformed, which truly, when it shall be finished▪ then in|deed may we well cry out with the prophet, and speak unto your holiness with these words: "Put off the stole of sorrow and vexation and put on comeliness, which thou hast of God in everlasting glory. For thy name shall be named of God everlasting, peace of righteousness, and honour of godliness; and then it shall be said, Look about and see thy sons gathered together from the sun-rising, to 〈…〉〈…〉 down of the same, rejoicing in the holy word." Those is nothing truly (to speak of the children gathered together in the west, which prepare themselves to meet their mother) which they had rather see, than her apparel|led (that I may use the words of the prophet) in the gar|ment of righteousness, wherewith God adorned her in times ••••st. This one thing remaineth, that your holiness's joy, and the joy of all the universal church may be perfect|ed, which together with us her 〈…〉〈…〉 children, cease not to pray to God for it. The Almighty God preserve your holiness long to continue 〈…〉〈…〉 for the profit of his church. From London, the last of November, 1554.

Your most humble servant. REGINALD POOLE, Cardinal.

ON Sunday, December 2d. Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, and lord chancellor of England, preach|ed at Paul's-Cross, at which sermon the king and cardinal Poole were present. He took for his text the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 chapter of the epistle of St. Paul to the Romans, "This also we know the season, brethren, that we should now awake out of sleep, for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed," &c.

FIRST, He shewed how the saying of St. Paul was verified upon the Gentiles, who had a long time slept in dark ignorance, not knowing God: there|fore St. Paul, said he, to stir up their heavy dulness, willed them to awake out of their long sleep, be|cause their salvation was nearer, than when they believed. In amplifying this matter, and compar|ing our times with their's, he took occasion to de|clare what difference the Jewish sacraments had from those of the Christians, wherein he used these words:

"Even as the sacrament of the Jews did declare Christ to come, so do our sacraments declare Christ to be already come: but Christ to come, and Christ to be come, is not all one. For now that he is come, the Jews' sacraments are done away, and our's only remain which declare that he is already come, and is nearer us, than he was to the fathers of the old law; for they had him but in signs, but we have him in the sacrament of the altar, even his very body. Wherefore now also it is time that we awake out of our sleep, who have slept, or rather dreamed these twenty years past, as shall more easi|ly appear by declaring at large some of the proper|ties and effects of a sleep or a dream. And first, As men int••••••ing to sleep, do separate themselves from company, and desire to be alone; even so have we separated ourselves from the see apostolic of Rome, and have been alone, unlike any other realm in Christendom.

SECONDLY, As in sleep men dream sometimes of killing, sometimes of maiming, sometimes of drown|ing or burning, sometimes of such beastliness as I dare not name, but will spare your ears; so we have in this our sleep, not only dreamed of beastliness, but we have done it indeed. For in this our sleep hath not one brother destroyed another? Hath not half our money been wiped away at one time? And again, those that would defend their conscience, were slain, and others also otherwise troubled; be|sides infinite other things, which you all know, as well as I, whereof I appeal to your own consciences. Further, in a man's sleep all his senses are stopped, so that he can neither see, smell, nor hear; even so, whereas the ceremonies of the church were instituted to move and stir up our senses, they being taken away, were not our senses (as ye would say) stopped, and we fast asleep? Moreover, when a man would

gladly sleep, he will put out the candle, lest perad|venture it may hinder his sleep, and awake him: so of late all such writers as did hold any thing with the apostolic see, were condemned and forbidden to be read: and images (which were laymen's books) were cast down and broken.

THE sleep hath continued with us these twenty years, and we all that while without a head. For when king Henry did first take upon him to be head of the church, it was then no church at all. After whose death, king Edward (having over him governors and protectors, which ruled as they list|ed) could not be head of the church, but was only a shadow or sign of a head, and at length it came to pass, that we had no head at all; 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ not so much as our two archbishops. For on the one side, the queen being a woman, could not be head of the church; and on the other side, they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 both convicted of one crime, and so deposed. Thu while we desired to have a supreme head among us, it came to pass that we had no head at all. When the tumult was in the north, in the time of king Henry VIII. (I am sure) the king was determined to have given over the supremacy again to the pope; but the hour was not then come, and therefore it went not forward, lest some would have said, that he did it for fear.

AFTER this, Mr. Knevet and I were sent ambas|sadors unto the emperor, to desire him that he would be a means between the pope's holiness and the king, to bring the king to the obedience of the see of Rome, but the time was not yet come. For it might have been said, that it had been done for a civil policy. Again, in the beginning of king Ed|ward's reign, the matter was moved, but the time was not yet: for it would have been said, that the king (being but a child) had been bought and sold. Neither in the beginning of the queen's reign was the hour come; for it would have been said, that it was done in a time of weakness. Likewise when the king first came, if it had been done, they might have said it had been by force and violence. But now, even now, the hour is come, when nothing can be objected, but that it is the mere mercy and providence of God. Now hath the pope's holiness, pope Julius III. sent unto us this most reverend father, cardinal Poole, an ambassador from his side▪ What to do? not to revenge the injuries done by us against his holiness, but to give his benediction to those that defamed and persecuted him.

AND that we may be the more meet to receive the said benediction, I shall desire you that we may always acknowledge ourselves offenders against his holiness; I do not exclude myself from the number; I will "weep with them that weep, and rejoice with them that rejoice." And I shall desire you, that we may defer the matter no longer, for now the hour is come. The king and queen's majesties have already restored our holy father the pope to his supremacy; and the three estates assembled in the parliament, representing the whole body of the realm, have also submitted themselves to his holi|ness, and his successors for ever; wherefore let us not any longer stay. And even as St. Paul said to the Corinthians, that he was their father, so may the pope say, that he is our father: for we received our doctrine first from Rome, therefore he may challenge us as his own. We have all cause to re|joice, for his holiness hath sent hither and prevented us, before we sought him: such care hath he for us. Therefore let us say, "This is the day which the Lord hath made, we will rejoice and be glad in it." Rejoice in this day, which is of the Lord's working, that such a noble birth is come, yea, such a holy father (I mean my lord cardinal Poole) which can speak unto us as unto brethren, and not as unto strangers, who hath been a long time absent. And let us now awake, who have so long slept, and in our sleep have done so much mischief to the sacraments of Christ, denying the blessed sacrament of the altar, and pulled down the altar, which thing Luther him|self would not do, but rather reproved them that did, examining them of their belief in Christ."

THIS was the sum of his sermon before his pray|ers, wherein he prayed first for pope Julius the third, with all his college of cardinals, the bishop of London, with the rest of that order; then for the king and queen, and the nobility of this realm; and lastly, for the commons of the same, with the souls departed, lying in the pains of purgatory.

This ended, the time being late, they began in St. Paul's to ring their evening song, whereby the preacher could not be well heard, which caused him to make an end of his sermon.

ABOUT this time a messenger was sent from the parliament to the pope, to desire him to confirm and establish the sale of abbey lands and chauntry lands: for the lords and the parliament would grant no|thing in the pope's behalf, before their purchases were fully confirmed.

THURSDAY, December 6, the whole convocation, both bishops and others, were sent for to Lambeth to the cardinal, who the same day forgave them all their perjurations, schisms, and heresies, and they all there kneeled down, and received his absolution; and after an exhortation and gratulation for their conversion to the catholic church, made by the car|dinal, they departed.

WEDNESDAY, December 12, five of the eight men which lay in the Fleet, that were of Mr. Throgmorton's jury, were discharged, and set at liberty upon paying a fine of 220l. a-piece: and the other three put up a supplication, therein de|claring, that their goods did not amount to the sum that they were appointed to pay; upon which de|claration, paying 40l. a-piece, they were delivered out of prison on the 21st of December.

SATURDAY, December 22, the parliament had a strict command, that none of them should depart into the country this Christmas, nor before the par|liament were ended. Which command was very contrary to their expectations; for as well many of the Lords, as also many of the commons, had sent for their horses, and had them brought hither.

FRIDAY, December 28, the prince of Piedmont came to the court at Westminster.

ON New-year's day, 1555, at night, several honest men and women of the city, to the number of thirty, and Mr. Rose, a minister, were taken as they were in a house in Bow-church-yard, at the communion, and the same night were all committed to prison. And on the third of January following, Mr. Rose was before the bishop of Winchester, the lord chancellor, and from thence the same day com|mitted to the Tower, after some communication between the bishop and him.

THE same day the act of supremacy passed in the parliament, and at night a great tumult was at West|minster, between some Spaniards and Englishmen, whereof a great mischief had like to have en|sued, by means of a Spanish friar, who got into the church, and rung the alarum. The occasion was about two prostitutes then in the cloyster at Westminster, with a sort of Spaniards, whereof whilst some played the knaves with them, others kept the entry of the cloyster with dags in harness. In the mean time, some of the dean's men came into the cloyster, and the Spaniards discharged their dags, and hurt some of them. By and by the noise of this came into the streets, so that the whole town was up almost, but never a stroke was stricken. Notwithstanding the noise of this doing with the dean's men, and also the ringing of the alarum, made much ado, and a great number to be sore afraid.

WE have before mentioned the council's letter sent to bishop Bonner, signifying the good news of queen Mary to be not only conceived, but also quick with child, which was on the 28th of November. Of this child great talk at this time began to rise in every man's mouth, especially amongst such as seem|ed to carry Spanish hearts in English bodies. In which number here is not to be forgotten, nor de|frauded of his commendation for his worthy affec|tion towards his prince and her issue, one sir Richard Southwell, who being the same time in the parlia|ment house, when, as the lords were occupied in other affairs and matters of importance, suddenly starting up, for fulness of joy burst out in these words following: "Tush, my masters, said he, why talk ye of these matters? I would have you take some order for our master that is now coming into the world apace, lest he find us unprovided," &c. By which words, and also by the aforesaid letters of the council, and the common talk abroad, it may appear what an assured opinion was then conceived in men's heads, of queen Mary being with child. Insomuch that at the same time, and in the same parliament, there was a bill exhibited, and the following act made upon the same.

The WORDS of the ACT.

ALBEIT, we the lords spiritual and temporal, and the commons in the present Parliament assembled, have firm hope and confidence in the goodness of Almighty God, that like as he hath hitherto miraculously preserved the queen's majesty from many great imminent perils and dan|gers▪ even so he will of his infinite goodness give her high|ness strength, the rather by our continual prayers, to pass well the danger of deliverance of child, wherewith it hath pleased him (to all our great comforts) to bless nor: yet forasmuch as all things of this world be uncertain, and having before our eyes the dolorous experience of this inconstant government, during the time of the reign of the late king Edward the sixth, do plainly see the manifold inconveniences, great dangers and perils that may ensue in this whole realm, if for ••ight be not used to prevent all evil chances, if they should happen: for the eschewing hereof, we the lords spiritual and temporal, and the com|mons in this present Parliament assembled, for and in con|sideration of a most special trust and confidence that we have and repose in the king's majesty, for and concerning the politic government, order, and administration of this realm, in the time of the young years of the issue or issues of her majesty's body to be born. If it should please God to call the queen's highness out of this present life, during the tender years of such issue or issues, (which God forbid) according to such order and manner, as hereafter in this present act his highness's most gracious pleasure is, should be declared and set forth, have made our humble suit, by the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of the queen's highness, that his majesty would vouchsafe to accept and take upon him the rule, order, edu|cation, and government of the said issue or issues to be born, as is aforesaid: upon which our 〈◊〉〈◊〉, being of his said majesty most graciously accepted, it hath pleased his high|ness not only to declare, That like as for the most part his majesty verily trust••th that Almighty God (who hath hitherto preserved the queen's majesty, to give this realm in good all hope of 〈…〉〈…〉 in the blood royal of the 〈…〉〈…〉 her highness with his graces and benediction, to see the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of her body well brought 〈…〉〈…〉, and able to govern; (wherefore neither all this 〈◊〉〈◊〉, nay all the world beside, should or could re|ceive more comfort than his majesty should or would) yet 〈…〉〈…〉 should happen, his majesty at our humble 〈…〉〈…〉 only to accept and take 〈…〉〈…〉 of the education, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, order, and government of such 〈…〉〈…〉 of the most happy mar|riage shall 〈…〉〈…〉 between the queen's highness and him; but also, during the time of such government, would by all ways and means, 〈…〉〈…〉, and employ himself to advance the weal both public and private of this realm and dominion thereunto belonging, according to the said trust in his majesty reposed, with no less good will and affection, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his highness had been naturally born amongst us. In 〈◊〉〈◊〉 whereof, be 〈…〉〈…〉 the king and the 〈…〉〈…〉 of the lords spiritual and temporal, and the commons in this present par|liament assembled, and by the authority of the same, &c. [As it is to be seen in the act more at large ratified and con|firmed by the same parliament, to the same intent and pur|pose.]

THUS we see how man doth purpose, but God disposeth as pleaseth him. For all this great la|bour, provision, and order, taken in the parlia|ment house for their young master long-looked for, coming so surely into the world, in the end, ap|peared neither young master, nor young mistress, that any man yet to this day can hear of. Further|more, as the labour of the lay-sort was herein deluded; so no less rediculous was it to behold, what little effect the prayers of the papists had with Almighty God, who travelled no less with their processions, masses, and collects, for the happy deliverance of this young master to come, as what follows will shew.

A PRAYER by DR. WESTON, DEAN of WESTMINSTER, to be daily said for the QUEEN's DELIVERANCE.

O Most righteous Lord God, which for the offence of the first woman, hath threatened unto all women a common, sharp, and inevitable ma••••diction, and hath en|joined them that they should conceive in sin, and being conceived, should be subject to many and grievous tor|ments; and finally, be delivered with the danger and jeopardy of their lives; we beseech thee for thine exceeding great goodness and bottomless mercy, to mitigate the strict|ness of that law. Asswage thine anger for a while, and cherish in the bosom of thy favour and mercy our most gra|cious queen Mary, being now at the point of being deli|vered. So help her, that without danger of her life she may overcome the sorrow, and in due season bring forth a child, in body beautiful and comely, in mind noble and valiant. So that afterwards, she, forgetting the trouble, may with joy la••d and praise the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of thy mer|cy, and, together with us, praise and bless both thee and thy holy name world without end. This, O Lord, we desire thee, we beseech thee, and most heartily crave of thee. Hear us, O Lord, and grant us our petition: Let not the enemies of thy faith, and of thy church 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Where is their God?

Another solemn PRAYER for KING PHILIP and QUEEN MARY's CHILD, that it may be a MALE-CHILD, WELL-FAVOURED, WITTY, &c.

O Most mighty Lord God, who regard•••••• the prayer of the humble, and despisest not their 〈◊〉〈◊〉; bow down from thine high habitation of the heavens, the eyes

of thy mercy unto us wretched sinners, bowing the knees of our hearts, and with many and deep sighs bewailing our sins and offences humbly with eyes intent, and hands displayed, praying and beseeching thee, with the shield of thy protection, to defend Mary thy servant, and our queen, who hath none other helper but thee, and whom, through thy grace, thou hast willed to be conceived with child, and at the time of her travail graciously with the help of thy right hand deliver her, and from all danger, with the child in her conceived, mercifully preserve.

IT hath seemed good in thy sight, merciful Father, by thy servant Mary to work these wonders; that is to say, in her hands to vanquish and overthrow the stout enemy, and to deliver us thy people, out of the hands of heretics, infidels, enemies to thee, and to the cross of thy beloved Son Jesus Christ, that of thy servant thou mightest speak in far countries. Therefore for these wonderful works, which thou dost to thy servants, thou art magnified, Lord God, for ever, and we thy people bless thee the God of heaven, which hath wrought upon us this great mercy, and hath excluded from us the heretic, the enemy of truth, the persecutor of thy church. We know, that we have griev|ously, Lord, sinned, that we have been deceived by vanity, and that we have forsaken thee our God. Our iniquities are multiplied on our heads, and our sins are increasing up to heaven: and we ourselves having offended, and our princes and our priests, for these our sins, have deserved an hypocrite to our prince, our sins have deserved a ty|rant to our governor, that should bring our life to bit|terness. We are not worthy to have so gentle and mer|ciful a queen, so godly a ruler, and finally, so virtuous a prince; at the very beginning of whose reign, a new light, as it were, of God's religion seemed to us for to spring and rise. The Jews did bless the widow Judith with one voice, saying, Thou art the glory of Jerusalem, thou art the joy of Israel, thou art the honour of our people, for that thou hast loved chastity, and thou shalt be blessed for ever.

AND we the English people with one agreeable consent do cry, Thou Mary art the glory of England, our joy, the honour of thy people, for that thou hast embraced chastity; thine heart is strengthened, for the hand of our Lord hath comfo••••ed thee, and therefore thou shalt be blessed for ever. But bow down, O most merciful Father, thine ear, and open thine eyes, and behold our affliction, and our humble confession. Thou knowest, Lord, that against Philip, not by human, but by thy ordinance our king, and against thy servant Mary, by thy providence our queen, the restorers and maintainers of thy testament of the faith, and most constant defenders of thy church; thou knowest, I say, that against these our two gover|nors, the enemies of thy holy testament, and the church, thy 〈◊〉〈◊〉, be most rank rebels and spiteful murmurers, walking after their lusts, whose mouth speaketh words of pride, to the end they may set up the kingdom of heretics and s••b••smatics. By the power of their hands they would change thy promises, and destroy thine inheritance, and stop and shut up the mouths of them that praise thee, and extinguish the glory of thy catholic church and altar.

IT is manifest and plain, how many contentions, how many conspiracies and seditions, how great wars, what tumults, how many, and how great troublesome vexations, how many heresies and schisms, (for these are the most ready devices, and evident tokens of heretics) for our sins do hang over us, if thy servant be taken from this life: for we acknowledge that our Lord is omnipotent, who hath pitched his dwelling-place in the midst of his people, to the intent to deliver us out of the hands of our enemies. Turn therefore thy countenance unto us; shew unto us, O Lord, thy face. Punish us for our sins according to thy will and pleasure, only now deliver us. We bowing the knees of our heart, beseech thee, that thou wilt not reserve unto us punishment for ever, and we shall praise thee all the days of our life. Hear our cry, and the prayer of thy people, and open to them the treasure of thy mercy, thy gracious favour, the spring of lively water. Thou that hast begun, make in the hand of thy servant a perfect work. Suffer not, we pray thee, the faithless rebels to say of thy servant and her counsellors, that they have devised matters which they cannot perform. And grant unto thy servant an happy and an easy travail. For it is not impossible to thy power, nor indecent to thy justice, nor unwonted to thy mercy.

IT is well known unto us, how marvellously thou didst work in Sarah of the age of 90 years, and in Elizabeth the barren, and also far stricken in age: for thy council is not in the power of men. Thou Lord that art the searcher of hearts and thoughts, thou knowest that thy servant never lusted after man, never gave herself to wanton company, nor made herself partaker with them that walk in lightness: but she consented to take an husband with thy fear, and not with her lust. Thou knowest that thy servant took an husband not for carnal pleasure, but only for the desire and love of posterity, wherein thy name might be blessed for ever and ever. Give therefore unto thy servants, Philip our king, and Mary our queen, a male issue, which may sit in the seat of thy kingdom. Give unto our queen thy servant, a little infant, in fashion and body comely and beautiful, in pregnant wit, notable and excellent.

GRANT the same to be in obedience like Abraham, in hospitality like Lot, in chastity and brotherly love like Joseph, in meekness and mildness like Moses, in strength and valour like Sampson. Let him be found faithful as David after thy heart. Let him be wise among kings as the most wise Solomon. Let him be like Job, a simple and an upright man, fearing God, and eschewing evil. Let him finally be garnished wih the comeliness of all virtuous conditions, and in the same let him wax old and live, that he may see his children's children to the third and fourth generation. And give unto our sovereign lord and lady, king Philip and queen Mary, thy blessings and long life upon earth; and grant that of them may come kings and

queens, which may stedfastly continue in faith, love, and holiness. And blessed be their seed of our God, that all nations may know, thou art only God in all the earth, which art blessed for ever and ever. Amen.

Another PRAYER for QUEEN MARY, and her SUPPOSED CHILD.

O Almighty Father, who didst sanctify the blessed virgin and mother Mary in her conception, and in the birth of Christ our Saviour thine only Son; also by thine omnipotent power didst safely deliver the prophet Jonah out of the whale's belly: defend, O Lord, we beseech thee, thy servant Mary, our queen, with child conceived, and so visit her in and with the godly gift of health, that not only the child thy creature, within her contained, may joyfully come from her into this world, and receive the blessed sacraments of baptism and confirmation, enjoying therewith daily increase of all princely and gracious gifts both of body and soul; but that also she the mother, through thy special grace and mercy, may in time of her travail avoid all excessive grief and pain, and abide perfect and sure from all peril and danger of death, with long and prosperous life, through Christ our Lord. Amen.

TUESDAY, January 10th, nineteen members of the lower-house, with their speaker, came to White-hall to the king, and offered him the government of the realm, and of the issue, if the queen should fail, which was confirmed by act of parliament within ten days after.

WEDNESDAY, 26th, the parliament was dissolved. In this parliament the bishop of Rome was esta|blished, and all such laws as were made against him since the twentieth year of king Henry VIII. were repealed, and cardinal Poole, bishop Pates, Lilly, and others, were restored to their blood. Also an act was made, that whoever should speak any thing against the king or queen, or that might move any sedition or rebellion, at the first time to have one of his ears cut off, or to forfeit an hundred marks; and at the second time, to have both his ears cut off, or else to forfeit an hundred pounds: and whoso|ever should write, cypher, or print any of the pre|mises, to have their right hand cut off.

LIKEWISE in this parliament three statutes were revived for trial of heresy: one made in the fifth year of Richard II. another in the second year of Henry IV. and the third in the second year of Henry V. Also the affair of Mr. Rose, and o|thers that were with him, was communed of in this parliament, and upon that occasion an act was made, that certain evil prayers should be treason against the queen's highness. The prayers of these men were thus: "God turn the heart of queen Mary from idolatry, or else shorten her days."

AT the apprehending of Mr. Rose, and his companions, word was brought thereof to bishop Hooper, being then in the Fleet; whereupon the bishop sent a letter of consolation to the said pri|soners: the copy whereof is as follows:

The ANSWER of BISHOP HOOPER, to a LET|TER sent unto him, concerning certain PRI|SONERS, taken in Bow Church Yard.

THE grace of God be with you, Amen. I perceive by your letter, how that upon New-year's-day at night, there were taken a godly number of christians, whilst they were praying. I do rejoice in that men can be so well occupied in this perilous time, and flee unto God for remedy by prayer, as well for their own lacks and neces|sities, as also charitably to pray for them that persecute them. So doth the word of God command all men to pray chari|tably for them that hate them, and not to revile any magistrate with words, or to mean him any evil by force or violence. They also may rejoice that in well-doing they were taken to the prison. Wherefore I have thought it good to send them this little writing of consolation; pray|ing God to give them patience, charity, and constancy in the truth of his most holy word. Thus fare you well, and pray to God to send his true word into this realm again amongst us, which the ungodly bishops have now banished.

JANUARY 4th, 1555.

BISHOP HOOPER's LETTER of CONSO|LATION to the aforesaid PRISONERS.

THE grace, favour, and consolation, and aid of the Ho|ly Ghost, be with you now and ever. Amen. Dearly beloved in the Lord, ever since your imprisonment I have been marvellously moved with great affections and passions, as well of mirth and gladness, as of heaviness and sorrow. Of gladness in this, that I perceived how ye be bent and given to prayer and invocation of God's help in these dark and wicked proceedings of men against God's glory. I have been sorry to perceive the malice and wick|edness of men to be so cruel, devilish, and tyrannical, to persecute the people of God for serving of God, saying and hearing of the holy Psalms, and the word of eternal life. These cruel doings do declare, that the popish church is

more bloody and tyrannical, than ever was the sword of the heathens and gentiles.

WHEN I heard of your taking, and what you were do|ing, wherefore and by whom ye were taken, I remembered how the christians in the primitive church were used by the cruelty of unchristened heathens, in the time of Trajan the emperor, about seventy-seven years after Christ's ascen|sion into heaven: and how the christians were persecuted very sore, as though they had been traitors and movers of sedition. Whereupon the gentile emperor Trajan requir|ed to know the true cause of christian men's trouble. A great learned man, called Pliny, wrote unto him, and said, "It was because the christians said certain Psalms before day unto one called Christ, whom they worshipped for God." When Trajan the emperor understood it was for nothing but for conscience and religion, he caused, by his commandments every where, that no man should be perse|cuted for serving of God. But the pope and his church hath cast you into prison, being taken even doing the work of God, and one of the most excellent works required of christian men; that is to wit, whilst ye were in prayer, and and not in such wicked and superstitious prayers as the pa|pists use, but in the same prayer that Christ hath taught you to pray. And in his name only ye gave God thanks for that ye have received, and for his sake ye asked for such things as ye want. O glad may ye be, that ever ye were born, to be apprehended whilst ye were so virtuously occu|pied. Blessed be they that suffer for righteousness' sake. For if God had suffered them that took your bodies, then to have taken your life also, now had you been following the Lamb in perpetual joys, away from the company and assembly of wicked men. But the Lord would not have you so suddenly so to depart, but reserveth you gloriously to speak and maintain his truth to the world.

BE ye not careful what ye shall say, for God will go out and in with you, and will be present in your hearts, and in your mouths to speak his wisdom, although it seemeth fool|ishness to the world. He that hath begun this good work in you, continue you into the same unto the end; and pray unto him that ye may fear him only, that hath power to kill both body and soul, and to cast them into hell-fire. Be of good comfort. All the hairs of your head are numbered, and there is not one of them can perish, except your hea|venly Father suffer it to perish. Now ye are in the field, and placed in the front of Christ's battle. Doubtless it is a singular favour of God, and a special love of him towards you, to give you this foreward and pre-eminence, a sign that he trusteth you before others of his people. Wherefore (dear brethren and sisters) continually fight this fight of the Lord. Your cause is most just and godly, ye stand for the true Christ (who is after the flesh in heaven) and for his true religion and honour, which is amply, fully, sufficient|ly, and abundantly contained in the Holy Testament, seal|ed with Christ's own blood. How much are ye bound to God, who puts you in trust with so holy and just a cause!

REMEMBER what lookers-on you have to see and behold you in your sight, God and all his angels, who are ready always to take you up into heaven, if ye be slain in his fight. Also you have standing at your backs all the mul|titude of the faithful, who shall take courage, strength, and desire to follow such noble and valiant christians as you are. Be not afraid of your adversaries: for ne that is in you, is stronger than he that is in them; shrink not, although it be in pain to you; your pains are not now so great, as hereafter your joys shall be. Read the comfortable chap|ters of the Romans viii.x.xv. Hebrews xi.xii. And upon your knees thank God that ever ye were accounted worthy to suffer any thing for his name's sake. Read the second chapter of St. Luke's Gospel, and there you shall see how the shepherds that watched upon their sheep all night, as soon as they heard that Christ was born at Bethlem, by and by went to see him. They did not reason nor deba••••: with themselves, who should keep the wolf from the sheep in the mean time, but did as they were commanded, and committed their sheep unto him, whose pleasure they o|beyed. So let us do now we are called, commit all other things to him that calleth us. He will take heed that all things shall be well. He will help the husband, he will comfort the wife, he will guide the servants, he will keep the house, he will preserve the goods; yea, rather than it should be undone, he will wash the dishes, and rock the cradle. Cast therefore all your care upon God, for he careth for you.

BESIDES this, you may perceive by your imprisonment, that your adversaries' weapons against you are nothing but flesh, blood, and tyranny. For if they were able, they would maintain their wicked religion by God's word: but for lack of that, they would violently compel us, as they cannot by holy scripture persuade, because the holy word of God, and all Christ's doings, are contrary unto them. I pray you, pray for me, and I will pray for you. And al|though we be asunder after the world, yet in Christ (I trust) for ever joining in the spirit, and so shall meet in the pa|lace of the heavenly joys, after this short and transitory life is ended. God's peace be with you. Amen.

JANUARY 14th, 1555.

UPON Friday, January 18th, all the council went to the Tower, and set at liberty most part of the pri|soners, among whom were the late duke of North|umberland's sons, Ambrose, Robert, and Henry, sir Andrew Dudley, sir John Rogers, sir James Crofts, sir Nicholas Throgmorton, sir Nicholas Arnal, sir George Harper, sir Edward Warner, sir William Sentlow, sir Gawen Carew, Mr. Gibbes, Cuthbert Vaughan, with many others.

TUESDAY, 22d, all the preachers, who were in prison, were called before the bishop of Winchester, lord chancellor, and certain others, at the bishop's house, in St. Mary Overy's. From whence (after communication, being asked whether they would convert, and enjoy the queen's pardon, or else stand to that they had taught; they all answered they would stand to that they had taught) they were committed to straighter prison than before, with charge that none should speak with them: of whom, one James George, the same time, died in prison, being there in bonds for religion and righteousness' sake; who therefore being exempted burial in the popish church-yard, was buried in the fields.

WEDNESDAY, 23d, all the bishops, with the rest of the convocation-house, were before the cardinal at Lambath, where he desired them to repair every man where his cure and charge lay, exhorting them to treat their flock with all mildness, and to endea|vour to win the people rather by gentleness, than by extremity and rigour, and so let them depart.

FRIDAY, 25th, being the day of conversion of St. Paul, there was a general and solemn procession through London, to give God thanks for their con|version to the catholic church: wherein (to set out their glorious pomp) there were fourscore and ten crosses, one hundred and sixty priests and clerks, who had every one of them copes upon their backs, singing loudly. There followed also, for the better estimation of the fight, eight bishops; and last of all came Bonner, bishop of London, carrying the po|pish pyx under a canopy.

THERE were also present the mayor, and alder|men, and all the livery of every occupation. More|over the king also himself, and the cardinal, came to St. Paul's church the same day. From whence after mass they returned to Westminster again. As the king was entering the church, at the steps going up to the choir, all the gentlemen that of late were set at liberty out of the Tower, kneeled before the king, and offered him themselves and their services.

AFTER the procession, there was also command|ment given to make bonfires at night. Whereupon did rise among the people a doubtful talk why all this was done: some saying it was, that the queen; being with child, might have a safe delivery▪ others thought, that it was for joy that the realm was join|ed again to the see of Rome.

MONDAY, 28th, the bishop of Winchester, and the other bishops, had commission from the cardinal to sit upon, and order, according to the laws, all such preachers and heretics (as they termed them) as were in prison: and according to this commis|sion, the same day the bishop of Winchester, and the other bishops, with certain of the council, sat in St. Mary Overy's church, and called before them bishop Hooper, Mr. Rogers, and Mr. Cardmaker, who were brought thither by the sheriffs▪ from whence, after communication, they were committed to prison till the next day, but Cardmaker submit|ted himself.

TUESDAY, 29th, Hooper, Rogers, Dr. Taylor, and Bradford, were brought before them, where sentence of excommunication, and judgment eccle|siastical, were pronounced, upon bishop Hooper, and Mr. Rogers, by the bishop of Winchester, who sat as judge in Caiaphas's seat, and drove them out of the church, according to their law and order. Dr. Taylor and Bradford were committed to prison till the next day.

WEDNESDAY, 30th, Dr. Taylor, Dr. Crome, Mr. Bradford, Mr. Saunders, and Dr. Ferrar, sometime bishop of St. David's, were before the said bishops, when Dr. Taylor, Mr. Saunders, and Mr. Bradford, were likewise excommunicated; and, sentence be|ing pronounced upon them, they were committed to the sheriffs. Dr. Crome desired two months respite, which was granted him; and Mr. Ferrar was again committed to prison till another time. All these men shewed themselves to be learned, as indeed they were: but what availeth either learning, reasoning, or truth itself, where arbitrary will alone beareth rule?

AFTER the examination and condemnation of these good men and preachers, commissions and in|quisitors were sent abroad into all parts of the realm: by reason whereof▪ a great number of the most god|ly and true christians (out of all the quarters, but

especially Kent, Essex, Norfolk, and Suffolk) were apprehended, brought up to London, cast into prison, and afterwards (most of them) either consumed cruelly by fire, or else through evil handling died in prisons, and were buried on the dung-hills, in the fields, or in some back-side of the prison.

THE following record is a general supplication of those unhappy prisoners, presented unto the king and queen, during the sitting of parliament.

Unto the KING and QUEEN's most excellent MA|JESTIES, and to their Most Honourable and High COURT of PARLIAMENT.

IN most humble and lamentable wise complain unto your majesties, and to your high court of parliament, your poor desolate and obedient subjects, H. F. T. B. P. R. S. &c. That whereas your said subjects living under the laws of God, and of this realm, in the days of the late most no|ble king Edward the Sixth, did in all things shew them|selves true, faithful, and diligent subjects, according to their vocation, as well in the sincere ministering of God's most holy word, as in due obedience to the higher powers, and in the daily practice of such virtues and good demeanor, as the laws of God at all times, and the statutes of the realm did then allow: your said subjects nevertheless, contrary to all laws of justice, equity, and right, are in very extreme man|ner, not only cast into prison (where they have remained now these 15 or 16 months) but their livings also, their houses and possessions, their goods and books, taken from them, and they slandered to be most heinous heretics, their enemies themselves being both witnesses, accusers, and judges, belying, slandering, and misreporting your said subjects at their pleasure; whereas your said subjects, being straitly kept in prison, cannot yet be suffered to come forth, and make answer accordingly.

IN consideration whereof, may it please your most excel|lent majesties, and this your high court of parliament, gra|ciously to tender the present calamity of your said poor sub|jects, and to call them before your presence, granting them liberty, either by mouth or writing in the plain English tongue, to answer before you, or before indifferent arbiters to be appointed by your majesties, unto such articles of controversy in religion as their said adversaries have already condemned them of, as of heinous heresies: provided, that all things may be done with such moderation and quiet be|haviour, as becometh subjects and children of peace, and that your said subjects may have the free use of all their own books, and conference together among themselves.

WHICH thing being granted, your said subjects doubt not b••t it shall plainly appear, that your said subjects are true and faithful christians, and neither heretics, neither teachers of heresy, nor cut off from the true catholic uni|versal church of Christ: yea, that rather their adversaries themselves be unto your majesties as were the charmers of Egypt to Pharoah, Zedechias and his adherents unto the king of Israel, and Barjesus to the proconsul Sergius Paulus. And if your said subjects be not able by the testimony of Christ, his prophets, apostles, and godly fathers of his church, to prove, that the doctrine of the church, homilies, and service taught and set forth in the time of our late most godly prince and king, Edward the sixth, is the true doc|trine of Christ's catholic church, and most agreeable to the articles of the christian faith; your said subjects offer themselves then to the most heavy punishment, that it shall please your majesties to appoint.

WHEREFORE, for the tender mercy of God i•• Christ, (which you look for at the day of judgment) your said poor subjects in bonds most humbly beseech your most ex|cellent majesties, and this your high court of parliament, benignly and graciously to hear and grant this their peti|tion, tending so greatly to the glory of God, to the edify|ing of his church, to the honour of your majesties, to the commendation and maintenance of justice, right, and equi|ty, both before God and man. And your said subjects, according to their bounden duty, shall not cease to pray un|to Almighty God for the gracious preservation of your most excellent majesties long to endure.

WHAT the cruel sufferings, persecutions, tortures, and agonizing deaths were, which these, and num|berless others subjects of the bloody queen Mary, endured from her hands, and those of her no less bloody instruments, the bishops Bonner and Gardi|ner, shall (God willing) be the substance of the next book; but before we enter upon this mournful re|cital, we think, a short sketch of the death and cha|racter of the principal actor in the horrid tragedy, will be acceptable to our readers, and this we shall take from Barnard's New History of England, whose authority we prefer to others, on account of his justly established character for candour, modera|tion, and a scrupulous impartiality.

"IT was not long (says this modern historian, p. 324.) before Mary felt the effect of public ha|tred, excited by her malevolence and cruel disposi|tion. She had flattered herself with an imaginary conception, and, finding her mistake, she fell into a profound melancholy. Her health (p. 327.) had been, for some time, in a declining state; and on

mistaking her dropsy for a pregnancy, she had used an improper regimen, which daily increased her dis|order. Every reflection was now a subject of tor|ment, begun in this world, and struck a dagger in her heart. The corroding worm, that never dies, began to gnaw its vital strings. The consciousness of having incurred the hatred of her subjects; the idea of Elizabeth's succeeding to the crown; her fears that the catholic religion would be exposed to danger: her dejection for the loss of Calais, with which she was deeply affected; and above all, her grief for the loss of her husband, who, she knew, intended soon to return to Spain, to settle there during the remainder of his life: these melancholy reflections preying upon her mind, with the greatest violence, threw her into a complication of disorders, attended with a lingering fever, of which she died, November 17th, 1558, in the forty-third year of her age, after a short, cruel, and unhappy reign of five years, four months, and eleven days. She was interred at Westminster, in the chapel of her grand|father Henry VII. Some writers have been of opi|nion, that this unworthy queen had a serious sense of religion, but can we call that profession, however distinguished by the sacred, peaceful name of reli|gion, which prompts men to be guilty of savage cruelty, and is destitute of all the social virtues? There are, we acknowledge, a few devout pieces extant, composed by Mary, Styrpe has preserved three of her meditations and prayers; and, at the desire of queen Catharine Parr, she began to trans|late Erasmus's paraphrase on St. John; but after she had made a small progress in it, she left the rest to Dr. Mallet, her chaplain. Erasmus says that she wrote very good Latin letters, but her French ones are poor performances. Styrpe has printed one from the Cotton library, in answer to a haughty mandate from her husband, on his resolving to mar|ry the lady Elizabeth to the duke of Savoy, against the inclinations of the queen, and that princess: in which he bids the former examine her conscience, whether her repugnance does not proceed from obstinacy; and insolently tells her, that if any par|liament went contrary to his request, he should lay the blame on her. The mortified Mary, in a most ••bject manner, the most wretched stile, submitting intirely to his will, professes to be more bounden to him, than any wife to a husband, notwithstanding his ill usage of her. Other letters of this queen are preserved in Hayne's state papers: we wish we could add also a few of her virtues: but we shall here drop the curtain, her true portrait having been faithfully delineated in the history of her reign.

THIS curtain it is our duty, as faithful witnesses of Jesus Christ, to draw up; and our protestant readers will see exhibited a tragedy of the most crimson hue; God's faithful professors murdered in cold blood•• women and infants put to the most cruel tortures; a faithful company of martyrs seal|ing the truth with their blood; all under the reign of a popish, bigotted, and obstinate queen, who was a disgrace to her sex, a dishonour to the English na|tion; and who, on account of her savage inhuma|nity, was justly branded by her subjects with the in|famous epithet of Bloody Queen Mary.

THE NEW AND COMPLETE BOOK of MARTYRS; OR, AN Universal History of Martyrdom: BEING FOX's BOOK OF MARTYRS, Newly Revised and Corrected, with Additions and great Improvements.

BOOK II. CONTAINING An HISTORICAL ACCOUNT of the LIVES, ACTS, MONUMENTS, PERSECUTIONS, SUF|FERINGS, and TRIUMPHANT DEATHS, of the PROTESTANT REFORMERS; With the particular Processes, and Names of all those Good, Pious, and Faithful Martyrs, both Men and Women, who were Imprisoned, Tortured, and who sealed the Faith of our Most Holy Religion with their Blood, in the Cruel Reign of MARY I commonly called BLOODY QUEEN MARY.

CHAP. I. The LIFE, EXAMINATIONS, WRITINGS, and CONDEMNATION, of the REV. Mr. JOHN ROGERS; and also the LIFE and MARTYRDOM of the REV. Mr. LAURENCE SAUN|DERS; who were burned, the former in SMITHFIELD, February 4th, the latter at COVENTRY, February 8th, 1555.

THE REV. Mr. John Rogers, vicar of St. Sepulchre's, and reader of St. Paul's, Lon|don, was educated in the university of Cambridge, and at length was chosen chaplain to the English factory at Antwerp, in Brabant; there he became acquainted with Mr. William Tindal, whom he assisted in his translation of the New Testament, and with Mr. Miles Co|verdale, who, with several other worthy protestants, had been driven out of England, on account of the persecutions for five articles, in the latter end of the reign of Henry VIII. By means of conversing with these worthy and pious servants of God. Mr. Rogers came to the knowledge of the scriptures, and finding, according to those sacred oracles, that matrimony was both honest and honourable, he en|tered into that state, and went with his wife to Wittenburg, in Saxony, where, through indefatiga+ble study and application, in a short time he attain+ed to such a knowledge of the Dutch language, as to be capable of taking charge of a christian con|gregation in that part of Europe.

HAVING cast off all popish superstitions, idolatry, and restrictions, this aged minister served his cure faithfully and diligently for many years, until such time that it pleased God to dispel the mists of popish darkness from his native country, and restore the glorious light of the pure gospel of Christ, by the introduction of his chosen servant Edward VI. to the throne of England.

MR. ROGERS then, being orderly called, left his living in Saxony, and came into England to preach

the gospel without any previous condition, ap|pointment, or establishment whatever: but after having laboured in the vineyard of his master for a time, with great success, Dr. Ridley, then bishop of London, gave him a prebend in his cathedral church of St. Paul's; of which he was afterwards chosen by the dean and chapter, one of the divinity-lecturers, or a reader of divinity in that church. Here he continued till queen Mary, soon after her accession, banished the true religion, and again in|troduced the superstition and idolatry of the church of Rome, with all the horrid cruelties of blood-thirsty Antichrist.

WHEN queen Mary was in the Tower of Lon|don, imbibing Gardiner's pernicious counsels, Mr. Rogers preached at Paul's-Cross, confirming those doctrines which he and others had there taught in king Edward's days, and exhorted the people, with peculiar energy, to continue stedfast in the same, and to beware of the false tenets of pestilent pope|ry. For this sermon the preacher was summoned before the council, then filled with popish and bloo|dy bishops; before whom he pleaded his own cause in so pious, bold, and yet prudent a manner, as to obviate their displeasure for that time, and he was dismissed. But after Mary's proclamation, to prohibit the preaching of the doctrines of the reformed religion, Mr. Rogers, for a contempt of the same, was again summoned before a coun|cil of bishops, who, after having debated upon the nature of his offence, ordered him to keep close prisoner in his own house, from which he never departed, though he had many fair opportunities to escape. He saw the recovery of the true reli|gion, at that time, desperate; he knew he should not want a living in Germany, sufficient for the wants of a large family, consisting of a wife and ten chil|dren; but all these considerations could not move him: he determined resolutely, after he had been called to answer for Christ's cause, not to desert it; and resolved to hazard his life in support of the truth.

IN this state of confinement he remained a consi|derable time, till at the instigation of the cruel Bon|ner, bishop of London, he was removed from his own house to Newgate, and placed among the com|mon felons. What passed between him and the adversaries of Christ, during the time of his impri|sonment, is not certainly known: but the following examinations he left in his own hand-writing: and it is the will of God they should be handed down to us, and remain a perpetual testimony in the cause of true religion.

The FIRST EXAMINATION of the Rev. Mr. JOHN ROGERS, before the LORD CHAN|CELLOR, GARDINER, Bishop of Winchester, and others of the COUNCIL of BISHOPS, January 22d, 1555.

FIRST, the lord chancellor said unto me thus: Sir, you have heard the state of the realm in which it standeth now.

ROGERS.

No, my lord, I have been kept in close prison, and except there have been some general things said at the table, when I was at dinner or supper, I have heard nothing; and there have I heard nothing, whereupon any special thing might be grounded.

THEN said the lord chancellor, General things, mockingly: you have heard of my lord cardinal's coming, and that the parliament hath received his blessing, not one resisting it, except one man which did speak against it. Such an unity, and such a miracle hath not been seen. And all they, of which there are eight score in one house, (said one that was by, whose name I know not) have with one assent received pardon of their offences, for the schism that we have had in England, in refusing the holy father of Rome to be head of the catholic church. How say you? are you content to unite yourself to the faith of the catholic church with us, in the state in which it is now in England? will you do that?

ROGERS.

The catholic church I never did nor will dissent from.

LORD CHANCELLOR.

Nay, but I speak of the state of the catholic church, in that wi••e in which we stand now in England, having received the pope to be supreme head.

ROGERS.

I know none other head but Christ of

his catholic church, neither will I acknowledge the bishop of Rome to have any more authority than any other bishop hath by the word of God, and by the doctrine of the old and pure catholic church, four hundred years after Christ.

LORD CHANCELLOR.

Why didst thou then ac|knowledge king Henry the eighth to be supreme head of the church, if Christ be the only head?

ROGERS.

I never granted him to have any su|premacy in spiritual things, as are the forgiveness of sins; giving of the Holy Ghost; authority to be a judge above the word of God.

LORD CHANCELLOR.

Yea, said he, and Tonstall bishop of Durham, and N. bishop of Worcester, if thou hadst said so in his days,

(and they nodded the head at me with a laughter)

thou hadst not been a|live now.

ROGERS.

Which thing I denied, and would have told how he was said and meant to be supreme head. But they looked and laughed one upon another, and made such a business, that I was constrained to let it pass. There lieth also no great weight thereupon; for all the world knoweth what the meaning was. The lord chancellor also said to the lord William Haward, that there was no inconvenience therein, to have Christ to be supreme head, and the bishop of Rome also: and when I was ready to have an|swered, that there could not be two heads of one church, and have more plainly declared the vanity of that his reason, the lord chancellor said, What sayest thou? make us a direct answer whether thou wilt be one of this catholic church or not, with us in that state in which we are now?

ROGERS.

My lord, without fail I cannot believe, that ye yourselves do think in your hearts that he is supreme head in forgiving of sins, &c. (as is before said) seeing you, and all the bishops of the realm have now twenty years long preached, and some of you also written to the contrary, and the parliament hath so long ago condescended unto it. And there he interrupted me thus:

LORD CHANCELLOR.

Tush, that parliament was with most great cruelty constrained to abolish and put away the primacy from the bishop of Rome.

ROGERS.

With cruelty? why then I perceive that you take a wrong way with cruelty to persuade men's consciences. For it should appear by your doings now, that the cruelty then used hath not per|suaded your consciences. How would you then have our consciences persuaded with cruelty?

LORD CHANCELLOR.

I talk to thee of no cruelty, but that they were so often and so cruelly called up|on in that parliament, to let the act go forward; yea, and even with force driven thereunto, whereas in this parliament it was uniformly received.

ROGERS.

Here my lord Paget told me more plainly, what my lord chancellor meant. Unto whom I answered: My lord, what will you conclude thereby? that the first parliament was of less au|thority, because that few condescended unto it? And this last parliament of great authority, because more condescended unto it? It goeth not, my lord, by more or lesser part, but by the wiser, truer, and godlier part: and I would have said more, but the lord chancellor interrupted me with his question, willing me once again to answer him. For, said he, we have more to speak with than thee, which must come in after thee. And so there were indeed ten persons more out of Newgate, besides two that were not called. Of which ten, one was a citizen of London, who granted unto them, and nine were contrary: who all came to prison again, and refused the cardinal's blessing, and the authority of his holy church, saying that one of these nine was not asked otherwise than thus, whether he would be an honest man as his father was before him: he answering yes, was discharged by the friendship of my lord William Haward, as I have understood. He bade me tell him what I would do; whether I would enter into the one church with the whole realm as it is now, or not? No, said I, I will first see it proved by the scriptures. Let me have pen, ink, and books, &c. and I shall take upon me plainly to set out the matter, so that the contrary shall be pro|ved to be true, and let any man that will, confer with me by writing.

LORD CHANCELLOR.

Nay, that shall not be per|mitted

thee; thou shalt never have so much prof|fered thee as thou hast now, if thou refuse it, and will not now condescend and agree to the catholic church. Here are two things, mercy and justice: if thou refuse the queen's mercy now, then shalt thou have justice ministered unto thee.

ROGERS.

I never offended, nor was disobedient unto her grace, and yet I will not refuse her mer|cy. But if this shall be denied me to confer by writing, and to try out the truth, then it is not well, but too far out of the way. Ye yourselves (all the bishops of the realm) brought me to the knowledge of the pretended primacy of the bishop of Rome, when I was a young man twenty years past; and ye will now without collation have me to say and do the contrary? I cannot be so persua|ded.

LORD CHANCELLOR.

If thou wilt not receive the bishop of Rome to be supreme head of the catholic church, then thou shalt never have mercy, thou mayest be sure. And as touching conferring and trial, I am forbidden by the scriptures to use any conferring and trial with thee. For St. Paul teacheth me, that I should shun and eschew an heretic after one or two monitions, knowing that such an one is overthrown, and is faulty, inasmuch as he is condemned by his own judgment.

ROGERS.

My lord, I deny that I am an here|tic: prove you that first, and then alledge the aforesaid text. But still the lord chancellor played on one string, saying:

LORD CHANCELLOR.

If thou wilt enter into one church with us, &c. tell us that; or else thou shalt never have so much proffered thee again as thou hast now.

ROGERS.

I will find it first in the scripture, and see it tried thereby, before I receive him to be supreme head.

WORCESTER.

Why, do you not know what is in your creed: "I believe in the holy catholic church?"

ROGERS.

I find not the bishop of Rome there. For [catholic] signifieth not the Romish church: it signifieth the consent of all true teaching churches of all times, and all ages. But how should the bishop of Rome's church be one of them, which teacheth so many doctrines that are plainly and di|rectly against the word of God? Can that bishop be the true head of the catholic church, that doth so? That is not possible.

LORD CHANCELLOR.

Shew me one of them, one; let me hear one.

ROGERS.

I remembered myself, that amongst so many, I were best to shew one; and said, I will shew you one.

LORD CHANCELLOR.

Let me hear that; let me hear that.

ROGERS.

The bishop of Rome and his church, say, read, and sing, all that they do in their con|gregations in Latin, which is directly and plainly against the 1st to the Corinthians, the xiv. chapter.

LORD CHANCELLOR.

I deny that; I deny that is against the word of God. Let me see you prove that: how prove you that?

ROGERS.

Thus I began to say the text from the beginning of the chapter, "He that speaketh in an unknown tongue," &c. To speak with tongues, is to speak with a strange tongue, as Latin or Greek, &c. and so to speak, is not to speak unto men, but to God. But ye speak in Latin, which is a strange tongue, wherefore ye speak not unto men, but unto God (meaning God only at the most). This he granted, that they spake not unto men but unto God.

LORD CHANCELLOR.

Well, then it is in vain unto men.

ROGERS.

No, not in vain. For one man speak|eth in one tongue, and another in another tongue; and all well.

LORD CHANCELLOR.

Nay, I will prove then, that he speaketh neither to God nor to man, but unto the wind.

ROGERS.

I was willing to have declared how

and after what sort these two texts do agree (for they must agree, they are both the sayings of the Holy Ghost, spoken by the apostle Paul), as to wit, to speak not to men, but unto God, and to speak unto the wind; and so to have gone forward with the proof of my matter begun: but here arose a noise and a confusion. Then said the lord chan|cellor:

LORD CHANCELLOR.

To speak unto God, and not unto God, were impossible.

ROGERS.

I will prove them possible.

LORD HAWARD.

No, said my lord Haward to my lord chancellor: now I will bear you witness that he is out of the way: for he granted first, that they which speak in a strange speech, speak unto God: and now he saith the contrary, that they speak neither to God nor to man,

ROGERS.

I have not granted nor said (turning me to my lord HAWARD) as you report. I have alledged the one text, and now I come to the other. They must agree, and I can make them agree. But as for you, you understand not the matter.

LORD HAWARD.

I understand so much, that that is not possible.

THIS is a point of sophistry, quoth secretary Bourne.

THEN the lord chancellor began to tell the lord Haward, that when he was in High-Dutchland, they at Hale, which had before prayed and used their service all in Dutch, began then to turn part into Latin, and part into Dutch.

WORCESTER.

Yes, and at Wittenberg too.

ROGERS.

Yes (but I could not be heard for the noise), in an university, where men for the most part understand the Latin, and yet not all in Latin. And I would have told the order, and have gone forward both to have answered my lord, and to have proved the thing that I had ta|ken in hand; but perceiving their talk and noise to be too clamorous, I was fain to think this in my heart, suffering them in the mean while to talk one of them one thing, and another another. Alas! neither will these men hear me if I speak, nei|ther yet will they suffer me to write. There is no remedy, but let them alone, and commit the matter to God. Yet I began to go forward, and said, that I would make the text to agree, and prove my purpose well enough.

LORD CHANCELLOR.

No, no; thou canst prove nothing by the scripture. The scripture is dead; it must have a lively expositor.

ROGERS.

No, the scripture is alive. But let me go forward with my purpose.

WORCESTER.

All heretics have alledged the scriptures for them; and therefore we must have a lively expositor for them.

ROGERS.

Yes, all heretics have alledged the scripture for them; but they were confuted by the scriptures, and none other expositor.

WORCESTER.

But they would not confess that they were overcome by the scriptures; I am sure of that.

ROGERS.

I believe that: and yet they were overcome by them, and in all councils they were disputed with, and overthrown by the scriptures. And here I would have declared how they ought to proceed in these days, and so have come again to my purpose, but it was impossible: for one asked one thing, another said another; so that I was fain to hold my peace, and let them talk. And even when I would have taken hold on my proof, the lord chancellor ordered me to prison again; and away, away, said he, we have more to talk withal: if I would not be reformed (so he termed it), away, away. Then up I stood, for I had kneeled all the while.

THEN sir Richard Southwell, who stood by in a window, said to me, Thou wilt no•• born in this cause when it cometh to the purpose; I know well that.

ROGERS.

Sir, I cannot tell, but I trust in my

Lord God, yes, lifting up mine eyes unto heaven.

THEN my lord of Ely told me much of the queen's majesty's pleasure and meaning, and set out with large words, saying, That she took them that would not receive the pope's supremacy, to be unworthy to have her mercy, &c.

ROGERS.

I said I would not refuse her mercy; and yet I never offended her in all my life: and that I besought her grace, and all their honours, to be good to me, reserving my conscience.

DIVERS spake at once.

No? quoth they then, a great many of them, and especially secretary Bourne, a married priest, and not have offended the law?

ROGERS.

I said, I had not broken the queen's law, nor yet any point of the law of the realm therein: for I married where it was lawful.

DIVERS at once.

Where was that? said they: thinking that to be unlawful in all places.

ROGERS.

In Dutchland. And if ye had not here in England made an open law that priests might again: for I brought a wife and eight children with me: which thing ye might be sure that I would not have done, if the laws of the realm had not permitted it before.

THEN the•••• was a great noise, some saying that I was come too soon with such a sort; I should find a sour coming of it: and some one thing, and some another. And one said (I could not well perceive who) that there was never a catholic man or country, that ever yet granted that a priest might have a wife.

ROGERS.

I said, the catholic church never de|nied marriage to priests, nor yet to any other man: and therewith was I going out of the chamber, the serjeant which brought me thither, having me by the arm.

THEN the bishop of Worcester turned his face towards me, and said, that I knew not where that church was or is.

ROGERS.

I said, yes, that I could tell where it was: but therewith the serjeant went with me out of the door.

THIS was the very true effect of all that was spoken unto me, and of all that I answered there|unto.

AND here would I gladly make a more perfect answer to all former objections, as also a due proof of that which I had taken in hand; but at this pre|sent I was informed, that I should to-morrow come to further answer. Wherefore I am compelled to leave out that which I would most gladly have done, desiring here the hearty and unfeigned help of the prayers of all Christ's true members, the off|spring of the true unfeigned catholic church, that the Lord God of all consolation will now be my comfort, aid, strength, buckler, and shield: as also of all my brethren that are in the same case and distress, that I and they all may despise all manner of threats and cruelty, and even the bitter burning fire, and the dreadful dart of death, and stick like true soldiers to our dear and loving captain Christ, our only Redeemer and Saviour, and also the only true head of the church, that doth all in us all, which is the very property of an head (and is a thing that all the bishop•• of Rome cannot do), and that we do not traitorously run out of his tents, or out of the plain field from him, in the most jeopardy of the battle, but that we may persevere in the fight (if he will not otherwise deliver us) till we be most cruelly slain of his enemies. For this I most hear|tily, and at this present with weeping tears, most instantly and earnestly desire and beseech you all to pray: and also if I die, to be good to my poor and most honest wife, being: poor stranger, and all my little souls, her's and my children. Whom, with all the whole faithful and true catholic congregation of Christ, the Lord of life and death, save, keep, and defend, in all the troubles and assaults of this vain world, and bring at the last to everlasting sal|vation, the true and sure inheritance of all sincere christians. Amen. Amen.

January 27, at night.

The SECOND EXAMINATION of the Rev. Mr. JOHN ROGERS, on the 28th of January, 1555.

BEING asked again by the lord chancellor, whe|ther I would come into one church, with the bishops and whole realm, as now was concluded by parliament (in which all the realm was converted to the catholic church), I answered, that I had, and would be able, by God's grace, to prove that all the doctrines, which I had ever taught, were true and catholic, both from the scriptures and the authority of the fathers, who lived in the fourth century. He answered, that should not, might not, and ought not to be granted me: for I was but a private man, and might not be heard against the determination of the whole realm. When a parliament, said he, hath concluded a thing, should any single, or private person, have authority to discuss, whether they had done right or wrong? No, that may not be.

I replied shortly, that all the laws of men might not, neither could rule the word of God, but that they all must be discussed and judged thereby▪ and neither my conscience, nor any christian man's, could be satisfied with such laws at disagreed from that word: and so was willing to have said much more. Bu•• the lord chancellor began a long tale to very small purpose, concerning mine answer; that there was nothing in me wherefore I should be heard, but arrogancy, pride, and vain-glory. I also granted mine ignorance to be greater than I could express, or than he took it: but yet that I feared not, by God's assistance and strength, to be able by writing to perform my word; neither was I (I thanked God) so utterly ignorant as he would make me; but all was of God, to whom be thanks ren|dered. Proud man was I never, nor yet vain-glorious. All the world know well, where and on which side pride, arrogancy, and vain-glory were. It was a poor pride, that was or is in us, God knoweth.

THEN he said, that I, at the first dash, condemn|ed the queen and the whole realm to be of the church of Antichrist. I answered, That the queen's ma|jesty (God save her grace) would have done well enough, if it had not been for his counsel. He said, the queen went before him, and it was her own motion. I said, I neither could, nor would I ever believe it.

THEN said Dr. Aldrise, bishop of Carlisle, that they the bishops would bear him witness. Yes, said I, that I believe well: and with that the people laughed; for that day there were many: but on the morrow they kept the doors shut, and would let none in, but the bishop's adherents and servants. Then Mr. Comptroller, and secretary Bourne, would have stood up also to ••ear witness, and did.

I said it was no great matter; and to say the truth, I thought that they were good helpers there|unto themselves: but I ceased to say any more, knowing that they were too strong and mighty of power, and that they should be believed before me, yes, and before our Saviour Christ, and all his pro|phets and apostles too, in these day••.

AFTER many words, he asked me what I thought concerning the blessed sacrament, and stood up, and put off his cap, and all his fellow bishop•• (of which there were a great sort, new men, of whom I knew few), whether I believed in the sacrament to be the very body and blood of our Saviour Christ, that was born of the Virgin Mary, and hanged on the cross, really and substantially.

I answered, I had often told him that it was a matter in which I wa•• no 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and therefore suspected my brethren to be of a contrary opinion. Notwithstanding, even as the most part of your doctrine in other points is false, and the defence thereof only by force and cruelty▪ so in this matter I think it to be as false as the rest. For I cannot understand [really and substantially] to signify other|wise than corporally: but corporally Christ is only in heaven, and so cannot Christ be corporally also in your sacrament. And here I somewhat set out his charity after this sort: My l••••d, said I, you have dealt with me most cruelly: for you have put me in prison without law, and kept me there now al|most a year and a half: for I was almost half a year in my house, where I was obedient to you, God knoweth, and spake with no man. And now have I been a full y••••r in Newgate, 〈…〉〈…〉 and charges, having a wife and ten children to provide

for, and have not received a penny from my livings, which was against the law.

HE replied, that Dr. Ridley, who had given them me, was an usurper; and therefore I was the un|just possessor of them.

WAS the king then an usurper, said I, who gave Dr. Ridley the bishopric?

YES, said he, and began to set out the wrongs that the king had done to the bishop of London, and to himself also. But yet I do misuse my terms, said he, to call the king usurper. But the word was gone out of the abundance of the heart before, and I think that he was not very sorry for it in heart. I might have said more concerning that matter, but I did not.

I asked him wherefore he put me in prison. He said, because I preached against the queen.

I answered, that it was not true; and I would be bound to prove it, and to stand to the trial of the law, that no man should be able to disprove it, and thereupon would set my life. I preached, I con|fessed, a sermon at the Cross, after the queen came to the Tower: but therein was nothing said against the queen, I take witness of all the audience, which not small. I alledged also, that he had, after an examination, let me go at liberty after the preach|ing of that sermon.

BUT you did read lectures after, said he, against the commandment of the council?

THAT I did not, said I: let that be proved, and let me die for it. Thus have you now against the law of God and man handled me, and never sent for me, never conferred with me, never spoke of any learning, till now that you have gotten a whip to whip me with, and a sword to cut off my head, if I will not condesecend to your mind. This charity doth all the world understand.

I might and would have added, if I could have been suffered to speak, that it had been time enough to take away men's livings, and then to have im|prisoned them, after that they had offended laws: for they are good citizens which break not laws, and worthy of praise, and not of punishment. But their purpose is to keep men in prison, until they may catch them in their laws, and so kill them. I could and would have added the example of Daniel, who by a crafty devised law was cast into the lion's den. I might also have declared, that I most hum|bly desired to be set at liberty, sending my wife to him with a supplication, being great with child, and with her eight honest women, or thereabout, to Richmond, at Christmas was a twelve-month, while I was yet in my house.

I wrote likewise two supplications to him out of Newgate, and sent my wife many times to him. Mr. Gosnold also, that worthy man, who is now departed in the Lord, laboured for me, and so did divers other worthy men also take pains in the matter. These things declare my lord chancellor's antichristian charity, which is, that he hath and doth seek my blood, and the destruction of my poor wife and ten children.

THIS is a short sum of the words which were spoken on the 28th of January, in the afternoon, after that Mr. Hooper had been the first, and Mr. Cardmaker the second in examination before me. The Lord grant us grace to stand together, fight|ing lawfully in his cause, till we be smitten down together, if the Lord's will be so. For there shall not a hair of our heads perish against his will. Whereunto the same Lord grant us to be obedient unto the end, and in the end, Amen: sweet, mighty, and merciful Lord Jesus, the Son of David and of God: Amen, Amen, let every true christian say and pray.

THEN the clock being as I guessed, about four, the lord chancellor said, that he and the church must yet use charity with me, (what manner of charity it is, all true christians do well understand, the same that the fox doth with the chickens, and the wolf with the lambs) and gave me respite till to-morrow, to see whether I would recollect, and whether I would return to the catholic church again, (for so he called his antichristian false church, and repent, and they would receive me to mercy.

I said th•••• I was never out of the true catholic

church, nor would be: but into his church would I, by God's grace, never come.

WELL, said he, then is our church false and antichristian?

YES, said I.

AND what is the doctrine of the sacrament?

FALSE; and I cast my hands abroad.

THEN one said that I was a player. To whom I answered not; for I took no notice of his mock.

COME again, said the lord chancellor, to-mor|row, between nine and ten.

I am ready to come again, whensoever you call.

AND thus was I brought up by the sheriffs to the compter in Southwark, Mr. Hooper going be|fore me, and a great multitude of people being present, so that we had much ado to go in the streets. Thus much was done January 28.

The THIRD EXAMINATION, and CON|DEMNATION, of the Rev. Mr. JOHN ROGERS, on ••he 29th of JANUARY, 1555.

THE next day, January 29, we were sent for in the morning about nine o'clock, and by the sheriffs fetched from the compter in Southwark, to St. Mary Overy's; and when Mr. Hooper was condemned, as I understood afterwards, then seat they for me. My lord chancellor said:

ROGERS, here thou wast yesterday, and we gave thee liberty to remember thyself last night, whe|ther thou would•••• come to the holy catholic church of Christ again or not. Tell us now what thou hast determined, whether thou wilt be repentant and sorry, and wilt return again and take mercy.

MY lord, said I, I remember well what you yesterday said to me, and desire you to give leave to declare my mind, what I have to say thereunto; and that done, I shall answer to your demanded question.

WHEN I yesterday desired that I might be suf|fered by the scripture and authority of the first, best, and purest church, to defend my doctrine by writing, (meaning not only of the primacy, but also of all the doctrine that ever I had preached) you answered, that it might not, and ought not to be granted me, for I was a private person; and that the parliament was above the authority of all private persons, and therefore the sentence thereof might not be found faulty and useless by me, be|ing but a private person. Yet, my lord, I am able to shew examples, that one man hath come into a general council, and after the whole had determined and agreed upon one act or article, some one man coming in afterwards, hath by the word of God proved so clearly that the council had erred in decreeing the said article, that he caused the whole council to change and alter their act or article before determined. And of these examples, I am able to shew two. I can also shew the au|thority of St. Augustine; that when he disputed with an heretic, he would neither himself, nor yet have the heretic to lean unto the determination of two former councils, of which the one made for him, and the other for the heretic that disputed against him: but said, that he would have the scriptures to be their judge, which were common and indifferent for them both, and not to either of them.

I could also shew the authority of a learned law|yer, Panormitanus, who saith, That unto a simple lay-man that bringeth the word of God with him, there ought more credit to be given, than to a whole council gathered together. By these things will I prove that I ought not to be denied to speak my mind, and to be heard against a whole parliament, bringing the word of God for me, and the authority of the old church 400 years after Christ, albeit that every man in the parliament had willingly and with|out respect of fear and favour agreed thereunto, which thing I doubt not a little of; especially see|ing the like had been permitted in the old church, even in general councils, yea, and that in one of the chiefest councils that ever was, unto which neither any acts of this parliament, nor yet any of the late general councils of the bishops of Rome ought to be compared. For if Henry VIII. were alive, and should call a parliament, and begin to determine a

thing, (and here I would have alledged the example of the act of making the queen a bastard, and of making himself the superior head; but I could not, being interrupted by one, whom God forgive) then would you (pointing to my lord chancellor) and ye, and all (pointing to the rest of the bishops) say, Amen: yea, and it please your grace, it is meet that it be so enacted.

HERE my lord chancellor would suffer me to speak no more; but bade me sit down, mockingly, say|ing, That I was sent for to be instructed of them, and I would take upon me to be their instructor.

MY lord, said I, I stand, and sit not: shall I not be suffered to speak for my life?

SHALL we suffer thee to tell a tale, and prate? said he. And with that he stood up, and began to face me, after his old arrogant proud fashion, for he perceived that I was in a way to have touched them somewhat, which he thought to hinder by dashing me out of my tale, and so he did: for I could never be suffered to come to my tale again, no not to one word of it; but he had much like communication with me as he had the day before, and, as his man|ner is, taunt upon taunt, and check upon check. For in that case, being God's cause, I told him he should not make me afraid to speak.

LORD CHANCELLOR.

See what a spirit this fel|low hath, saith he, finding fault at mine accustomed earnestness, and hearty manner of speaking.

ROGERS.

I have a true spirit, agreeing to, and obeying the word of God, and further have said, that I was never the worse, but the better, to be earnest in a just and true cause, and in my master Christ's matters; but I could not be heard. And at length he proceeded towards his excommunica|tion and condemnation, after that I had told him, that his church of Rome was the church of Anti|christ, meaning the false doctrine and tyrannical laws, with the maintenance thereof by cruel perse|cutions used by the bishops of the said church (of which the bishop of Winchester, and the rest of his fellow bishops that are now in England, are the chief members): of laws I mean, said I, and not all men and women which are in the pope's church. Likewise, when I was said to have denied their sa|crament (whereof he made his wonted reverent mention, more to maintain his kingdom thereby, than for the true reverence of Christ's institution; more for his own and his popish generation's sake, than for religion or God's sake; I told him after what order I did speak of it, (for the manner of his was not agreeing to my words, which are before recited in the communication that we had January 28, (wherewith he was not contented, but asked the audience, whether I had not simply denied the sacrament. They would have said, and did what he desired, for most of them were of his own ser|vants on this day. At last I said, I will never deny what I said, that your doctrine of the sacrament is false; but yet I tell you after what order I said it.

TO be short, he read my condemnation before me, particularly mentioning therein but two articles; first, that I affirmed the Romish catholic church to be the church of Antichrist; and that I denied the reality of their sacrament. He caused me to be degraded and condemned, and put into the hands of the laity, and so he gave me over into the she|riff's hands, which were much better than his.

THE following is a copy of the sentence of con|demnation. passed upon the Rev. Mr. John Rogers, by Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, at St. Mary Overy's church, Southwark, January 29th, 1555; which we have here inserted to the intent, that the same may be referred to, as being the com|mon form of all condemnatory sentences used by popish bishops against the Martyrs, throughout the whole of this history.

The SENTENCE CONDEMNATORY, passed upon the Rev. Mr. JOHN ROGERS, in a COUNCIL, of BISHOPS, whereof WIN|CHESTER was PRESIDENT, January 29th, 1555.

IN the name of God, Amen: We Stephen, by the permission of God, bishop of Winchester, lawfully and rightly proceeding with all goodly fa|vour by authority and virtue of our office, against thee John Rogers, priest, otherwise called Matthew, before us personally here present, being accused and detected, and notoriously slandered of heresy, having

heard, seen, and understood, and with all diligent deliberation weighed, discussed, and considered the merits of the cause, all things being observed, sit|ting in our judgment seat, the name of Christ being first called upon, and having only God before our eyes, because by the acts enacted, propounded and exhibited in this matter, and by thy own confession judicially made before us, we do find that thou hast taught, holden and affirmed, and obstinately de|fended divers errors, heresies, and damnable opi|nions, contrary to the doctrine and determination of the holy church, as namely these; "That the ca|tholic church of Rome is the church of Antichrist. Item, That in the sacrament of the altar there is not substan••ially or re••lly the natural body and blood of Christ." The which aforesaid heresies and damn|able opinions, being contrary to the law of God, and determination of the universal and apostolical church, thou hast arrogantly, stubbornly, and wittingly maintained, held and affirmed, and also defended before us, as well in this judgment, as also otherwise, and with the like obstinacy, stubbornness, malice and blindness of heart, both wittingly and willingly hast affirmed, that thou wilt believe, maintain and hold, affirm and declare the same: We therefore, S. Winchester, bishop, ordinary, and diocesan afore|said, by the consent and assent as well of our rever|end brethren the lords bishops here present and assistant, as also by the counsel and judgment of di|vers worshipful lawyers and professors of divinity, with whom we have communicated in this behalf, do declare and pronounce thee the said John Ro|gers, otherwise called Matthew, through thy deme|rits, transgressions, obstinacies and wilfulness, (which through manifold ways thou hast incurred by thine own wicked and stubborn obstinacy) to have been and to be guilty of the detestable, horrible, and wicked offences of heretical pravity and execrable doctrine, and that thou hast before us sundry times spoken, maintained, and wittingly and stubbornly defended the said cursed and excerable doctrine in the sundry confessions, asser••ions, and recognitions here judicially before us of••entimes repeated, and yet still dost maintain, affirm and believe the same, and that thou ••••st been, and art lawfully and ordi|narily convicted in this behalf: We therefore, I say, albeit following the example of Christ, "which would not the death of a sinner, but rather that he should convert and live;" we have gone about oftentimes to correct thee, and by all lawful means that we could, and all wholesome admonitions that we did know, to reduce thee again unto the true faith and unity of the universal catholic church, notwithstanding have found thee obstinate and stiff|necked, willingly continuing in thy damnable opi|nions and heresies, refusing to return again unto the true faith and unity of the holy mother church; and as the child of wickedness and darkness, so to have hardened thy heart, that thou wilt not understand the voice of thy shepherd, which with a fatherly affection doth seek after thee, nor wilt be allured with his fatherly and godly admonitions: We there|fore, Stephen, the bishop aforesaid, not willing that thou which art wicked shouldst now become more wicked, and infect the Lord's flock with thine he|resy, (which we are greatly afraid of) with sorrow of mind, and bitterness of heart, do judge thee, and definitively condemn thee the said John Rogers, otherwise called Matthew, thy demerits and faults being aggravated through thy damnable obstinacy, as guilty of most detestable heresies, and as an ob|stinate impenitent sinner, refusing penitently to re|turn to the lap and unity of the holy mother church, and that thou hast been and art by law excommuni|cated, and do pronounce and declare thee to be an ex|communicate person. Also we pronounce and declare thee, being a heretic, to be cast out from the church, and left unto the judgment of the secular power, and now presently so do leave thee as an obstinate heretic, and a person wrapped in the sentence of the great curse, to be degraded worthily for thy demerits (requiring them notwithstanding, in the bowels of our Lord Jesus Christ, that this execution and pu|nishment worthily to be done upon thee, may so be moderated, that the rigour thereof be not too ex|treme, nor yet the gentleness too much mitigated, but that it may be to the salvation of thy soul, to the extirpation, terror, and conversion of the here+tics to the unity of the catholic faith) by this our sentence definitive which we here lay upon and a|gainst thee, and do with sorrow of heart promulgate in this form aforesaid.

AFTER this sentence was read, bishop Gardiner sent Mr. Hooper and me to the Clink, there to re|main till night; and when it was dark, they carried us▪ Mr. Hooper going before with one sheriff, and

I coming after with the other, with bills and wea|pons enough, out of the Clink, and led us through the bishop's house, and St. Mary Overy's church|yard, and so into Southwark, and over the bridge in procession to Newgate, through the city. But I must observe, that when the bishop had read the condemnation, he declared that I was in the great curse, and what a dangerous matter it was to eat and drink with us that were accursed, or to give us any thing; for all that did so, should be partakers of the same great curse.

WELL, my lord, said I, here I stand before God and you, and all this honourable audience, and take him to witness, that I never knowingly, or willing|ly taught any false doctrine; and therefore have I a good conscience before God and all good men: I am sure that you and I shall come before a judge that is righteous, before whom I shall be as good a man as you; and I nothing doubt but I shall be found there a true member of the true catholic church of Christ, and everlastingly saved. And as for your false church, you need not to excommunicate me from it, I have not been found in it th••se twenty years, the Lord be thanked; but now you have done what you can, my lord, I pray you yet grant the one thing.

WHAT is that? said he.

THAT my poor wife, being a stranger, may come and speak with me so long as I live; for she hath ten children, and somewhat I would counsel her, what were the best for her to do.

NO, said he, she is not thy wife.

YES, my lord, and hath been these eighteen years.

SHOULD I grant her to be thy wife? said he.

CHUSE you, whether you will or not; she shall be so nevertheless.

SHE shall not come at thee.

THEN I have tried out all your charity, said I. You make yourself highly displeased with the ma|trimony of priests, but you maintain open whore|dom: as in Wales, where every priest hath his whore openly dwelling with, and lying by him; even as your holy father suffereth all the priests in Dutchland, and in France, to do the like. Thereto he answered not, but looked as it were asquint at it; and thus I departed and saw him no more.

The WRITINGS of the Rev. Mr. ROGERS, while in Prison, containing the Substance of what he intended, might he have been permitted to plead in his Defence, when examined by the Bench of Popish Bishops.

DEARLY beloved, ye have heard what was said: now hear what I purposed the night be|fore to have said, if I could have been permitted. Two things I purposed to have touched upon. The one, how it was lawful for a private man to reason and write against a wicked act of parliament, or un|godly council, which the lord chancellor the day be|fore denied me; the other was to prove, that pro|sperity was not always a token of God's love.

AND this I purposed to speak of, because the lord chancellor boasted of himself, that he was delivered forth of prison, as it were by miracle, and preserved of God to restore true religion, and to punish me and such others, whom he termed heretics. Concerning these two points, in this manner I purposed to have proceeded. It is not unknown to you, that king Henry VIII. in his time made his daughter, the queen that now is, a bastard: he abolished the au|thority of the bishop of Rome: he pulled down abbeys: and all this he did by the consent of par|liament.

KING Edward VI. in his time made lawful the marriage of priests, turned the service into English, abolished the idolatrous mass, with all like supersti|tious trumpery, set up the holy communion, and all by consent of parliament.

THE queen that now is, hath repealed the act that made her a bastard; hath brought in the bishop of Rome, and set him in his old authority; beginneth to set up abbeys again; hath made the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of priests unlawful; hath turned the English service

into Latin again; hath set up mass again, and pull|ed down the holy communion: and all this is done by consent of parliament.

IF the acts of parliament, made in king Henry's time, and in king Edward's, had their foundation upon God's word, whereupon all positive law ought to be grounded; then these which are established in the queen's time, being clean contrary to the others, as they are not warranted by God's word, so are they wicked, and therefore to be spoken and written against of all men, as well of private as of public persons.

IF your acts, my lord chancellor, which you have lately coined, (I call them your's, because you only bear the sway, devise, and decree what you list, and all other men are forced to follow) be good, and according to God's word, then the for|mer acts were naught, which thing you seem to say, in utterly taking of them away, and setting up of the contrary▪ if the former were naught, why then did you consent unto them, and confirm them to be good by your voluntary and advised writing? as it appeareth, and will to the world's end, in your book "Of true obedience," where you prove the queen a bastard, and the bishop of Rome to be an usurper, and to have no authority in the realm of England.

YOU must needs confess, that the most part of your acts of parliament in these latter days have been according to the fantasies of a few. King Henry in his time established by parliament in a manner what he pleased, and many things that might well have been amended.

IN king Edward's days, the dukes of Somerset and Northumberland bare a great sway in things, and did not all things sincerely. Even so, since the queen, that now is, came to the government of the realm, all things are ordered by your device and head, and the whole parliament-house is led as you please; by reason whereof they are compelled to condescend to things both contrary to God's manifest word, and also to their own consciences; so great is your cruelty.

FOR to bring your wicked purposes to pass, and to establish your antichristian kingdom, (which, I trust, the Lord with the breath of his mouth will speedily blow over) you have called three parlia|ments in one year and an half, that what you could not compass by subtil persuasion, you might bring to pass by tyrannical threatning: for if you had not used cruel force in your doings, you had never brought to pass such things as this day you have, to the utter defacing and abolishing of God's true religion, and to the casting away and destruc|tion of your natural country, so much as in you lieth.

AND as it is most true, that acts of parliament have in these latter days been ruled by the fantasies of a few; and the whole parliament-house, contra|ry to their minds, was compelled to such things as a few have conceived: so it must needs be granted, that the papists at all times were most ready to apply themselves to the present world, and like men-pleasers to follow the fantasies of such as were in authority, and turn with the state, which way soever it turned. Yes, if the state should change ten times in one year, they would ever be ready at hand to change with it, and so follow the cry, and rather utterly forsake God, and be of no religion, than they should forego lust or living, for God or for religion.

KING HENRY by parliament, according to God's word, put down the pope▪ the clergy consented, and all men openly by oath refused his usurped supremacy, knowing, by God's word, Christ to be the head of the church, and every king in his realm to have, under and next unto Christ, the chief sovereignty.

KING EDWARD also by parliament, according to God's word, set the marriage of priests at liberty, abolished the popish and idolatrous mass, changed the Latin service, and set up the holy communion; the whole clergy consented hereunto; many of them set it forth by their preaching; and they all by practising confirmed the same.

NOTWITHSTANDING, now when the state is al|tered, and the laws changed, the papistical clergy, with other worldlings, as men neither fearing God neither flying worldly shame, neither yet

regarding their consciences, oaths or honesty, like wavering weather-cocks turn round about, and putting on harlot's foreheads, sing a new song, and cry with an impudent mouth, Come again, come again to the catholic church, meaning the antichristian church of Rome, which is the syna|gogue of Satan, and the very sink of all supersti|tion, heresy, and idolatry.

OF what force, I pray you, may a man think these parliaments to be, which scarcely stand a year in strength? Or what credit is to be given to these law-makers, who are not ashamed to establish contrary laws, and to condemn that for evil, which before (the thing itself and the circumstances remain|ing all one) they affirmed and decreed to be good. Truly you are so ready, contrary to all right, to change and turn for the pleasure of man, that at length, I fear, God will use you like changelings, and both turn you out of his kingdom, and out of your own country.

YE charge the gospel-preachers with the undo|ing of this realm: nay, it is the turning papists, which have not only set to sale their country like traitors, but also troubled the simple people, so that they cannot tell what they may believe. For that which they affirmed in king Edward's days, now they cry against it, as it were most abominable heresy. This fault, I trust, you shall never find at our hands.

THEREFORE to conclude that which I purposed, forasmuch as the acts of parliament of these latter times are one contrary to another, and those which you now have established in your time are contrary to God's most manifest word, as is the usurped su|premacy of the bishop of Rome, the idolatrous mass, the Latin service, the prohibiting of lawful marriage, (which St. Paul calleth the doctrine of devils) with many other things: I say, it is not only lawful for any private man, which bringeth God's word for him, and the authority of the pri|mitive and best church, to speak and write against such unlawful laws; but it is his duty, and he is bound in very conscience to do it. Which thing I have proved by divers examples before, and now will add but one other, which is written in the fifth of the Acts, where it appeareth that the high priests, elders, scribes, and pharisees, decreed in their council, and gave the same commandments to the apostles, that they should not preach in the name of Christ, as you have also forbidden us; notwithstanding when they were charged therewith|al, they answered, We ought rather to obey God than man: even so do we answer you; God is more to be obeyed than man; and your wicked laws cannot so tongue-de us, but we will speak the truth.

THE apostles were beaten for their boldness, and they rejoiced that they suffered for Christ's cause. You have also provided rods for us, and bloody whips: yet when you have done that which God's hand and counsel hath determined that you shall do, be it life or death, I trust that God will so assist us by his holy spirit and grace, that we shall patiently suffer it, and praise God for it: and whatsoever become of me and others, which now suffer for speaking and professing of the truth, yet be you sure, that God's word will prevail and have the upper hand, when your bloody laws and wick|ed decrees, for want of sure foundation, shall fall in the dust: and that which I have spoken of your acts of parliament, the same may be said of the ge|neral councils of these latter days, which have been within these five hundred years, where the Anti|christ of Rome, by reason of his usurped authority, ruled, and decreed such things as made for his gain, not regarding God's glory: and therefore are they to be spoken, written, and cried out against of all such as fear God and love his truth.

AND thus much I purposed to have said concern|ing the first point.

NOW touching the second point. That whereas my lord chancellor had the day before said his pleasure of them that ruled the realm while he was in prison, and also rejoiced as though God had made this alteration, even for his sake, and his catholic church, as he called it, and to declare as it were by miracle, that we were before in a schism and heresy, and the realm was now brought unto an unity, and to a truth▪ to which I was fully purposed to have spoken. Secondly, my lord, whereas you, yesterday, so much dispraised the go|vernment of them that ruled in innocent king

Edward's days, may it please your lordship to un|derstand, that we poor preachers, whom you so evil treat, did most boldly and plainly rebuke their evil government in many things, especially their covetousness, and neglect to live after the gospel, as also their negligence to occasion others to live there|after, with more things than I can now rehearse. This all London can testify with us. I would also have told him, what I myself for my part did once at Paul's-Cross, concerning the mis-use of abbeys, and other church goods: and I am right well as|sured, that never a papist of them all did ever so much therein as I did, I thank the Lord therefore: I was also, as is well known, fain to answer before all the council, and many of my brethren did the like, so that we, for the not rebuking of their faults, shall not answer before God, nor be blame|worthy before men. Therefore let the gentlemen and courtiers themselves, and all the citizens of London, testify what we did.

BUT, my lord, you could not abide them, for that which they did unto you, and for that they were of a contrary religion unto you. Wherefore in that you seem so inveterate against them, it is neither any just or public cause, but it is your own private hate that maketh you to report so evil of their governance, and you may now say what you please of them, when they are partly dead and gone, and partly, by you, put out of office.

BUT what shall be said of you when your fall shall follow, you shall then hear. And I must say my conscience to you: I fear, you have, and will, with your governance, bring England out of God's blessing into a warm sun. I pray God you do not.

I am an Englishman born, and, God knoweth, do naturally wish well to my country. And my lord, I have often proved that the things, which I have much feared would come to pass, have indeed followed I pray God I may fail of my guessing in this behalf: but truly, that will not be with expelling the true word of God out of the realm, and with the shedding of innocent blood.

AND as touching your rejoicing, as though God had set you aloft to punish us by miracle, (for so you report and brag openly of yourself) and to mi|nister justice, if we will not receive your holy father's mercy, and thereby do declare your church to be true, and our's false; to that I answer thus: God's works are wonderful, and are not to be comprehended and perceived by man's wisdom, nor by the wit of the most wise and prudent.

BUT here they will cry out. Lo these men will be still John Baptist, the apostles, and prophets, &c.

I answer, We make not ourselves like unto them, in the singular virtues and gifts of God given unto them; as of doing miracles, and of many other things. The similitude and likeness of them and us consisteth not in all things, but only in this, that is, that we be like them in doctrine, and in the suffering of persecution and infamy for the same.

WE have preached their very doctrine, and no other thing: that we are able sufficiently to declare by their writings; and by writing for my part, I have proffered to prove the same, as is often said. And for this cause we suffer the like reproach, shame, and rebuke of the world, and the like perse|cution, losing of our lives and goods, forsaking (as our master Christ commandeth) father, mother, sister, brethren, wives, children, and all that there is, being assured of a joyful resurrection, and to be crowned in glory with them, according to the infal|lible promises made unto us in Christ, our only and sufficient mediator, reconciler, priest, and sacrifice, which hath pleased the Father, and quieted and pa|cified his wrath against our sins, and made us with|out spot or wrinkle in his fight by imputation, al|though we, of and in ourselves, are blotted with many filthy sins, which if the great mercy granted in Christ did not put away, by not imputing them unto us of his unspeakable mercy and love to save us, they would have brought us to everlasting dam|nation: and herein, and in no other, do we affirm ourselves to be like unto our head Christ, and all his apostles, prophets, martyrs, and saints. And herein ought all christian men to be like them, and herein are all true christian men and women like them, every one according to the measure of the fa••th that God hath dealt unto them, and to the di|versity

of the gifts of the Spirit given unto them. But let us now consider, that if it be God's good will and pleasure to give his own beloved heart, that is, his beloved church, and the members thereof, into the hands of their enemies, to chasten, try, and prove them, and to bring them to the true unseign|ed acknowledging of their own natural stubborn|ness, disobedience towards God and his command|ments, as touching the love of God and of their brethren or neighbours, and their natural inclina|tion, readiness, and desire to love creatures, to seek their own lust, pleasures, and things forbidden of God, to obtain a true and earnest repentance, and sorrowfulness thereof, and to make them sigh and cry for forgiveness of the same, and for the aid of the Spirit, daily to mortify and kill the said evil de|sires and lusts: yea, and often falling into gross outward sins, as did David, Peter, Magdalen, and others, to rise again also, with a mighty crying for mercy, with many other causes. Let us also consi|der, what he hereafter doth with the same enemies, into whose hands he hath given his render beloved dearlings to be chastened and tried: whereas he but chasteneth and crosseth them for a small while, accord|ing to his good pleasure, as all fathers do with their children, Heb. xii. Prov. iii. he utterly destroyeth, yea, and everlastingly damneth the unrepentant ene|mies. Let Herod tell me what he got by killing James and persecuting Peter and his church. Ve|rily God thought him not worthy to have death ministered unto him by men or angels, or any wor|thy creatures; but those small, yet vile vermin, lice and worms, must consume and kill his beastly, vile, and tyrannous body. Pharaoh and Nebuchadnez|zar, for all their pride and most mighty power, must at length let God's dearlings go freely away out of their land, yea, out of their bands and tyranny. For when it could not be obtained of their hands, that God's congregation might have true mercy ministered unto them, but the counterfeit mercy of these our days, that is to say, extreme cruelty, and even the most horrible and cruel death, God arose and awoke out of his sleep, and destroyed those enemies of his flock with a mighty hand, and stretched-out arm. Pharaoh did with most great and intolerable labours and burdens oppress and bring under the poor Israelites, and yet did the courtiers undoubtedly noise abroad, that the king was merciful unto them, to suffer them to live in the land, and to set them to work, that they might get them their livings. If he should thrust them out of his land, whither should they go, like a sort of vagabonds and runagates? This title and name of mercy would that tyrant have, and so did his flattering false courtiers spread his vain praise abroad. Have not we the like example now-a-days? O that I had now time to write certain things pertaining to our Winchester's mercy! How merciful he hath been to me and my good brethren, I will not speak of, neither yet unto the duke of Suffolk's most in|nocent daughter, and to her as innocent husband. For although their fathers were faulty, yet had their youth and lack of experience deserved a pardon by all true merciful men's judgments. O that I had time to paint out this matter aright▪ but there are many alive that can do it much better when I am dead. Pharaoh had his plagues: and his most flourishing land was, in consequence of his counter|feit mercy, which was indeed right cruelty and ty|ranny, utterly destroyed. And think you that bloody butcherly bishop of Winchester, and his most bloody brethren shall escape? Or that England shall for their offences, and especially for the maintenance of their idolatry, and wilful following of them, not abide as great brunts? yes undoubtedly.

AFTER Mr. Rogers had been long and straitly imprisoned, and lodged in Newgate among thieves, often examined, and very uncharitably treated, and at length unjustly and most cruelly condemned by Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester: on the fourth of February, being Monday in the morning, he was suddenly warned by the keeper of Newgate's wife, to prepare himself for the fire; who being then sound asleep, could scarce be awaked. At length being raised and awaked, and bid to make haste, Then, said he, if it be so, I need not tie my points; and so was had down, first to bishop Bon|ner to be degraded; which being done, he craved of Bonner but one petition; and Bonner asking what that should be? Mr. Rogers replied, that he might speak a few words with his wife before his burning. But that could not be obtained of him. Then, said he, you declare what your charity i••: and so he was brought into Smithfield by Mr. Chester and Mr. Woodroofe, then sheriffs of London, there to be burnt; where he shewed the most constant patience, not using many words, for he could not be permit|ted,

but only exhorting the people constantly to re|main in that faith and true doctrine which he before had taught, and they had learned, and for the con|firmation whereof he was not only content patiently to suffer and bear all such bitterness and cruelty as had been shewed him, but also most gladly to resign up his life, and to give up his flesh to the consum|ing fire, for the testimony of the same.

IN few words, to comprehend the whole order of his life, doings and martyrdom: First, this good man, Mr. Rogers, was committed to prison, and there continued a year and half. In prison he was chearful and earnest in all he went about. Wrote much; his examinations he penned with his own hand, which else had never come to light. Wherein is to be noted, by the way, a memorable working of God's providence. You heard how Mr. Ro|gers craved of bishop Bonner, going to his burning, that he might speak a few words with his wife, which could not be granted. What these words were it is for no man certainly to determine. It may be supposed that his purpose was, amongst other things, to signify unto her of the book of his examinations and answers, which he had written and privily hid in a secret corner of the prison where he lay. But where man's power lacketh, see how God's providence worketh. For that notwith|standing that during the time of his imprisonment, there was strict search made to take away his letters and writings; yet after his death, his wife and one of her sons, called Daniel, coming into the place where he lay, to seek for his books and writings, and now ready to go away, it chanced her son, cast|ing his eye aside, to spy a black thing, (for it had a black cover, probably because it should not be known) lying in a dark corner under a pair of stairs. Who desiring his mother to see what it was, found it to be the book written with him own hand, con|taining his examinations and answers, with other matters above specified. In the latter end whereof, this also was contained; which because it concern|eth a prophetical fore-warning of things pertaining to the church, I thought (says Mr. Fox) to place the same in his own words, as they are written, which are these: "If God look not mercifully up|on England, the seeds of utter destruction are sown in it already by these hypocritical tyrants, and anti|christian prelates, popish priests, and double traitors to their natural country. And yet they speak of mercy, of blessing, of the catholic church, of unity, of power, and strengthening of the realm. This double dissimulation will shew itself one day when the plague cometh, which undoubtedly will fight upon these crown-shorn captains, and that shortly, whatsoever the godly and the poor realm suffer in the mean while by God's sufferance and will.

"SPITE of Nebuchadnezzar's beard, and mau|gre his heart, the captive, thrall, and miserable Jews must come home again, and have their city and temple built up by Zerubbabel, Esdras, and Nehe|miah, &c. and the whole kingdom of Babylon must go to ruin and be taken of strangers, the Persians and Medes. So shall the dispersed English flock of Christ be brought again into their former state, or to a better, I trust in the Lord God, than it was in innocent king Edward's days; and our bloody Ba|bylonical bishops, and the whole crown-shorn com|pany brought to utter shame, rebuke, ruin, decay, and destruction. For God cannot, and undoubt|edly will not, suffer for ever their abominable ly|ing, false doctrine, their hypocrisy, blood-thirst, whoredom, idleness, their pestilent life, pampered in all kind of pleasure, their vain boasting pride, their malicious, envious, and poisoned stomachs, which they bear towards his poor and miserable christians. Peter truly warneth, that "If judg|ment beginneth in the house of God, what shall be the end of them that believe not the gospel? If the righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the ungod|ly and sinful appear?" Some shall have their pun|ishment here in this world and in the world to come; and they that do escape in this world, shall not es|cape everlasting damnation. This shall be your end, O ye wicked papists, make ye merry as long as ye may."

AMONGST other words and sayings, which may seem prophetically to be spoken by him, this also may be added, and is notoriously to be marked, that he spake, being then in prison, to the printer of Mr. Fox's book, who then also was laid up for like cause of religion: "Thou," said he, "shalt live to see the alteration of this religion, and the gospel to be freely preached again." And there|fore have me commended to my brethren, as well in exile as others, and bid them be circumspect in

displacing the papists, and putting good ministers into churches, or else their end will be worse than our's. And for lack of good ministers to furnish ch••rches, his device was, (Mr. Hooper also agree|ing to the same) that for every ten churches, some one good and learned superintend••nt should he ap|pointed, which should have under him faithful readers, such as might well be got, so that popish priests should clean be put out, and the bishop once a year to oversee the profiting of the parishes; and if the minister did not his duty, as well in profiting himself in his book, and his parishioners in good instructions, so that they may be trained by little and little to give a reckoning how they do 〈◊〉〈◊〉 then he to be expelled, and another put in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 place: and the bishop to do the like with the su+perintendant: this was his counsel and re|quest: shewing moreover, and protesting in his commendations to his brethren by the printer a|foresaid, that if they would not do so, their end, he said, would be worse than theirs.

BESIDES divers things, touching Mr. Rogers, this is not to be forgotten, how in the days of king Edward VI. there was a controversy among the bishops and clergy, for wearing of priests caps, and other attire belonging to that order. Mr. Rogers being of that number which never went otherwise than in a round cap, during all the time of king Edward, affirmed that he would not agree to that decreement of uniformity, but upon this condi••••on, that if they would needs have such an uniformity of wearing the cap, tippet, &c. then it should also be decreed withal, that the papists, for a difference betwixt them and others, should be constrained to wear upon their s••eeves a chalice with an host up|on it. Whereupon if they would consent, he would agree to the other; otherwise he would not, he said, consent to the setting forth of the same, nor ever wear the cap, as indeed he never did

ON the 4th of February, as we have before ob|served, Mr. Rogers was taken out of Newgate, to be led to the place of execution, when the sheriff asked him, if he would recant his opinions? To this he answered, "That what he had preached, he would seal with his blood." Then, said the sheriff, thou art an heretic. To which Mr. Rogers replied, "That shall be known at the day of jud••ment." Well, said Mr. Woodroofe, I will never pray for thee. But I will pray for you, said Mr. Rogers; and so he was brought the same day, Monday Fe|bruary 4th, by the sheriffs towards Smithfield, say|ing the Psalm Mis••rere by the way, all the people wonderfully rejoicing at his constancy, with great praises and thanks to God for the same. And there, in the presence of Mr. Rochester, comptroller of the queen's houshold, sir Richard Southwell, both the sheriffs, and a great number of people, he was burnt to ashes, washing his hands in the flames as he was burning. A little before his burning, his pardon was brought, if he would have recanted; but he utterly refused it. He was the first martyr, of all the blessed company that suffered in queen Mary's time, that gave the first adventure upon the fire. His wife and children, bring eleven in number, te•• able to go, and one sucking at her breast, met him by the way as he went towards Smithfield▪ this sorrowful sight of his own flesh and blood could nothing move him, but he constantly and chearfully took his death with wonderful patience, in the de|fence of the gospel of Christ.

The LIFE and MARTYRDOM of the Rev. Mr. LAURENCE SAUNDERS, who was burned at COVENTRY, February 8th, 1555.

AFTER queen Mary, by public proclamation, in the first year of her reign, had prohibited the sincere preaching of God's holy word, several pious ministers, who had the cure and charge of souls committed to them, did notwithstanding, ac|cording to their duty, feed their flock faithfully, not as preachers authorized by public authority, (as the godly order of the realm was in the happy days of blessed king Edward) but as the private pastors of particular flocks, among whom Laurence Saunders was one, a man of good parentage. His bringing up was in learning from his youth, in places meet for that purpose, as in the school of Eaton. From whence (according to the manner there used) he was chosen to go to the king's college in Cambridge, where he continued a scholar three whole years, and profited in knowledge and learning very much for that time: shortly after, he did forsake the univer|sity, and went to his parents, upon whose advice he minded to become a merchant, for that his mother, who was a gentlewoman of good estimation, being

lest a widow, and having a good portion for him among his other brethren, she thought to set him up wealthily and so he coming up to London, was bound 〈…〉〈…〉 with a merchant, named sir Wil|liam 〈…〉〈…〉 ••fterwards chanced to be sheriff of London the same year that Saunders was burnt at Coventry.) Thus, by the mind of his friends, Laurence should needs have been a merchant; but Almighty God, who hath his secret working in all things, saw better for his servant, as it fell out in the end: for although that Saunders was bound by in|denture, yet the Lord so wrought inwardly in his heart, th•••• he could find no liking in his vocation: so that when his other fellows were busily occupied about their trade, he would secretly withdraw him|self into some privy corner, and there fall into soli|tary lamentations, as one not pleased with that kind of life.

IT happened that his master, being a good man, and hearing his 'prentice thus in his secret prayers inwardly to mourn by himself, called him unto him, to know what the cause was of his solitariness and lamentations: who then perceiving him not to fan|cy that kind of life, (for so Saunders declared unto him) and perceiving also his whole purpose to be bent to the study of books, and spiritual contempla|tion, like a good man, directed his letters unto his friends, and giving him his indentures, set him free. Thus Mr. Laurence Saunders being ravished with the love of learning, and especially with the read|ing of God's word, tarried not long in the traffic of merchandize, but shortly returned to Cambridge again to his study, where he began to add to the knowledge of the Latin, the study of the Greek tongue, wherein be profited very much in a little time; therewith also he joined the study of the Hebrew. Then he gave himself wholly to the study of the holy scripture, to furnish himself for the office of a preacher.

IN study he was diligent and painful, in godly life he declared the fruits of a well exercised consci|ence; he prayed often, and with great fervour, and in his prayers, as also at other times, he had his part of spiritual exercises, in which, when any special assault did come, he felt present relief: then was his company marvellous comfortable. For as his exer|cises were special teachings, so in the end they proved singular consolations: wherein he became so ex|pert, that within short space he was able to comfort others who were in affliction, by the consolation wherewith the Lord did comfort him. Thus con|tinued he in the university, till he became master of arts, and a long space after.

IN the beginning of king Edward's reign, when God's true religion was introduced, after licence obtained, he began to preach, and was so well liked of them who then had authority, that they had ap|pointed him to read a divinity lecture in the college at Fothringam, where, by doctrine and life, he edi|fied the pious, drew many ignorant to the true knowledge of God, and stopped the mouths of ad|versaries. He married about that time, and in the married state led a life unblameable before all men. The college of Fothringam being dissolved, he was placed to be a reader in the minster at Litchfield: where he so behaved himself in teaching and living, that his very adversaries did give a full report as well of his learning as of his piety. After a cer|tain space, he departed from Litchfield to a benefice in Leicestershire, called Church-langton, where he keeping residence, taught diligently, and kept a liberal house. From thence he was orderly called to take a benefice in the city of London, named Al|hallows in Bread-street. Then he was minded to give over his cure in the country: and therefore after he had taken possession of his benefice in Lon|don, he departed from thence into the country, clearly to discharge himself thereof. And even at that time began the broil about the claim that queen Mary made to the crown, by reason whereof he could not accomplish his purpose.

IN this trouble, and even among the beginners of it, (such I mean as were for the queen) he preached at Northampton, nothing meddling with the state, but boldly uttered his conscience against popish doc|trines, which were like to spring up again in Eng|land, as a just: plague for the little love which the English nation did bear to the blessed word of God, which had been so plentifully offered unto them. The queen's party who were there, and heard him, were highly displeased with him for his sermon, and for it kept him among them as a prisoner. But partly for love of his brethren and friends, who were chief doers for the queen among them, partly

because there was no law broken by his preaching, they dismissed him. He, seeing the dreadful day•• at hand, inflamed with the fire of godly real, preach+ed with diligence at both those benefices, as time could serve him, seeing he could resign neither of them now, but into the hands of a papist.

THUS passed he his time in preaching, until that proclamation was put forth, of which mention has been made, at which time he was at his bene|fice in the country, where he (notwithstanding the proclamation) taught diligently God's truth, con|firming the people therein, and arming them against false doctrines, until he was not only commanded to cease, but also with force resisted, so that he could not proceed there in preaching. Some of his friends, perceiving such fearful menacing, coun|selled him to fly out of the realm, with he refus|ed to do. But seeing he was with violence kept from doing good in that place, he returned to|wards London to visit the flock, of which he had there the charge.

ON Saturday, October 14th, as he was coming nigh to the city of London, sir John Mordant, a counsellor to queen Mary, did overtake him, and asked him whither he went. I have, said Saun|ders, a cure in London, and now I go to instruct my people, according to my duty. If you will follow my counsel, said Mr. Mordant, let them alone, and come not at them. To this Saunders answered: How shall I then be discharged before God, if any be sick, and desire consolation, if any want good counsel, and need instruction? or if any should slip into error, and receive false doctrine? Did you not, said Mordant, preach such a day, and named the day, in Bread-street, London? Yes ve|rily, said Saunders, that same is my cure. I heard you myself, said Mr. Mordant: and will you preach now there again? If it please you, said Saunders, to-morrow you may hear me again in that same place, where I will confirm, by the autho••ity of God's word, all that I said then, and whatsoever be|fore that time I taught them.

I would counsel you, said the other, not to preach. If you can and will forbid me by lawful authority, then I must obey, said Saunders. Nay, said he, I will not forbid you, but I do give you counsel. And thus entered they both the city, and departed each from the other. Mr. Mordant, of an uncharitable mind, went to give warning to Bonner, bishop of London, that Saunders would preach in his cure the next day. Saunders resorted to his lodging, with a mind bent to do his duty. Where because he seemed to be somewhat troubled, one who was there about him, asked him how he did. In very deed, said he, I am in prison, till I be in prison; meaning, that his mind was unquiet until he had preached, and that he should have quietness of mind though he were put in prison.

THE next day, which was Sunda•• in the after|noon, he made a sermon in his parish, treating on that place which St. Paul writeth 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Corinthians, "I have coupled you to one man, that ye should make yourselves a chaste virgin unto Christ. But I fear lest it come to pass, that as the serpent beguil|ed Eve, even so your wi•••• should be corrupt from the singleness which ye had towards Christ." He recited the sum of that true christian doctrine, thro' which they were coupled to Christ, to receive of him free justification through faith in his blood. The papistical doctrine he compared to the serpent's de|ceiving: and lest they should be deceived by it, he made a comparison between the voice of God, and the voice of the popish serpent; descending to more particular declaration thereof, as it were to let them plainly see the difference that is between the order of the church service, set forth by king Edward in the English tongue, and comparing it with the po|pish service then used in the Latin tongue.

THE first he said was good, because it was accord|ing to the word of God, 1 Cor. xiv. and the order of the primitive church. The other, he said, was evil, and though in that evil, be intermingled some good Latin words, yet was it but as a little honey or 〈◊〉〈◊〉 mingled with a great deal of poison. This was the sum of his sermon.

IN the afternoon he was ready in his church to have given another exhortation to his people. But the bishop of London interrupted him by sending an officer for him. This officer charged him, upon p••in of disobedience and contumacy, forthwith to come to the bishop his master. Thus, as the apos|tles were brought out of the temple, where they

were teaching, unto the rulers of the priests, so was Laurence Saunders brought before the bishop of London, who had in his company the aforenamed sir John Mordant and some of his chaplains. This bishop laid no more to Laurence Saunders's charge, but treason for breaking the queen's proclamation, heresy and sedition for his sermon.

THE treason and sedition, his charity was content to let slip until another time. But an heretic he would now prove him, and all those, he said, who did teach and believe that the administration of the sacrame•••• and all orders of the church are most pure, which do come most nigh to the order of the primitive church. For the church was then but in her infancy, and could not abide that perfection which was afterwards to be furnished with ceremo|nies. And for this cause Christ himself, and after him the apostles, did in many things bear with the rudeness of that church. To this Laurence Saun|ders answered with the authority of St. Augustine, "That ceremonies were even from the beginning invented and ordained for the rude infancy and weak infirmity of man, and therefore it was a token of the more perfection of the primitive church, that it had few ceremonies, and of the rudeness of the pa|pistical church, beca••se it had so many ceremonies, partly blasphemous, partly unsavoury and unpro|fitable.

AFTER much talk concerning this matter, the bishop desired him to write what he believed of transubstantiation. Laurence Saunders did so, say|ing. My lord, you do seek my blood, and you shall have it: I pray God that you may be so baptized in it, that you may thereafter loathe blood sucking, and become a better man. This writing the bishop kept for his purpose, even to cut the writer's throat, as shall appear hereafter. The bishop, when he had his will, sent Laurence Saunders to the lord chancellor, ••s Annas sent Christ to 〈◊〉〈◊〉: and like favour found Saunders as Christ his master did before him▪ But the chancellor being not at home, Saunders was con••trained to tarry for him the space of four 〈…〉〈…〉 outer chamber, where he found a chaplain of the bishop's very merrily disposed, with certain gentlemen playing at tables, with divers others of the same family or house occupied there in the same exercise.

ALL this time Saunders stood very modestly and soberly at the screen or cub-board bare-headed, sir John Mordant his guide or leader walking up and down by him: who (as I said before) was then one of the council. At last the bishop returned from the cou•••• whom, as soon as he was entered, a great many suiters met and received; so that ••••fore he could get out of one house into another, ••alf an hour was passed. At last he came into the chamber where Saunders was, and went through into another chamber: where in the mean time, sir John Mor|dant gave him a writing, containing the cause, or rather the accusation of the said Saunders: which when he had perused, where is the man? said the bishop. Then Saunders, being brought forth to the place of examination, first most lowly and meekly kneeled down, and made courtesy before the table where the bishop sat; unto whom the bishop spoke on this wise:

HOW happeneth it, said he, that, notwithstanding the queen's proclamation to the contrary, you have attempted to preach?

SAUNDERS denied not that he did preach; saying, that forasmuch as he saw the perilous times now at hand, he did but (according as he was admonished, and warned by Ezekiel the prophet) exhort the flock and parishioners to persevere and stand stedfastly in the doctrine which they had learned; saying also, that he was moved thereunto by the place of the apostle, wherein he was commanded rather to obey God than man; and moreover, that nothing more moved him thereunto than his own conscience.

A goodly conscience, surely, said the bishop. This your conscience could make our queen a bast|ard, or misbegotten; would it not, I pray you.

WE, said Saunders, do not declare, or say that the queen is base, or misbegotten, neither go about any such matter. But for that, let them care whose writings are yet in the hands of men, witnessing the same, not without the great reproach and shame of the author: privily taunting the bishop himself, who had before (to get the favour of Henry VIII.) written and set forth in print a book of true obedi|ence, wherein he had openly declared queen Mary to be a bastard: now Mr. Saunders going forward

in his purpose, said, We do only profess and teach the sincerity and purity of the word; which, though it be now forbidden us to preach with our mouths, yet notwithstanding, I do not doubt, but that our blood hereafter shall manifest the same. The bishop being touched, said, Carry away this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 fool to prison. Unto whom Mr. Saunders answered, that he did give God thanks, which ••••d given him at the last a place of rest and quietness, where he might pray for the bishop's conversion.

FURTHERMORE, he that did lie with him after|wards in prison, in the same bed, reported, that he heard him say, that even in the time of his exami|nation he was wonderfully comforted, insomuch as not only in spirit, but also in body, he received a certain taste of that holy communion of saints, whilst a most pleasant refreshing did issue from every part and member of the body unto the seat and place of the heart, and from thence did ebb and flow to and fro unto all the parts again.

MR. SAUNDERS continued in prison one year and three months. In all which space he sent several letters to divers men; as one to Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer; another to his wife, and also to others, certifying them both of the public calamity of the time, and also of his private afflictions, and of his sundry conflicts with his adversaries: and in writing to his friend, he speaketh of Dr. Weston's conferring with him in prison. In the mean time, Gardiner, the chancellor, sent him to the prison of the Marshalsea, where he was kept prisoner one year and a quarter. During which time he sent a letter, part of which is as follows, to Gardiner, bishop of Winchester.

LETTER I. Which the Rev. Mr. SAUNDERS sent to Bishop GARDINER, exculpating himself from CERTAIN CHARGES laid against him.

TOUCHING the cause of my imprisonment, I doubt whether I have broken 〈…〉〈…〉 proclamation. In my doctrine I did not, forasmuch as at that 〈…〉〈…〉 was per|mitted by the proclamation to use, according to our co••••••i|ences, such service as was then established. My doctrine was then agreeable unto my conscience and the ••ame 〈◊〉〈◊〉 then used. The act which I did 〈…〉〈…〉 of God's word in his own parish, called Alhallows in Bread-street, in the city of London) was such as being in|differently weighed, sounded to no breaking of the procla|mation, or at least no wilful breaking of it, forasmuch as I caused no bell to be ••ung, neither occupied I any place in the pulpit, after the order of sermons or lectures. But be it that I did break the proclamation, this long time of conti|nuance in prison may be thought to be more than a suffi|cient punishment for such a fault.

TOUCHING the charging of me with my religion, I say with St. Paul; this I confess, "That after the way which ••••ey call heresy, so worship I the God of my forefathers, be|lieving all things which are written in the law and the pro|phets, and have hope towards God," &c. 〈…〉〈…〉. And herein study I to have always a clear conscience towarde God and towards men, so that God I call to witness, I have a conscience. And this my conscience is not ground|ed upon vain fantasy, but upon the infallible verity of God's word, with the witnessing of his chosen church agreeable unto the same.

IT is an easy thing for them which take Christ for their true pastor, and be the very sheep of his pasture, to discern the voice of their true shepherd, from the voice of wolves, hirelings, and strangers: forasmuch as Christ saith, "My sheep hear my voice," John x. yea, and thereby they shall have the gift to know the right voice of the true shepherd, and so to follow him, and to avoid the contrary, as he also saith, "The sheep follow the shepherd, for they know his voice: a stranger they will not follow, but will fly from him, for they know not the voice of a stranger." Such inward inspiration doth the Holy Ghost put into the children of God, being indeed taught of God, but otherwise unable to understand the true way of their salvation. And altho' the wolf (as Christ saith) cometh in sheep•• clothing, yet by their fruits ye shall know them. That the Romi••h religion is ravening and wolfish, is apparent in three prin|cipal points.

FIRST, It robbeth God of his due and only honour.

SECONDLY, It taketh away the true comfort of consci|ence, in obscuring, or rather bu••••ing of Christ and his office of salvation.

THIRDLY, It spoileth God of his true worship and ser|vice 〈◊〉〈◊〉 spirit and truth, appointed in his commandments, ••••d d••••eth men unt•• that inconvenience, against which Christ with the prophet Isaiah doth speak sha••ply: "This p••••ple honoureth me with their lips, but their 〈…〉〈…〉 me. They worship me in ••ain, teaching 〈…〉〈…〉 and precepts of men." And in another plac••, "Ye ••••st 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the commandments of God, to maintain your own traditions."

WHEREFOR•• I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 conscience weighing the Romish reli|gion,

and by indifferent discussing thereof finding the foun|dation unstedfast, and the building thereupon but vain: and on the other side, having my conscience framed after a right and uncorrupt religion, ratified and fully established by the word of God, and the consent of his true church, I neither may, nor do intend, by God's gracious assistance, to be pulled one jot from the same; no, though an angel out of heaven should preach another gospel than that which I have received of the Lord.

AND although that for lack either of such d••ep know|ledge and profound judgment, or of readily uttering what I do know and judge, as required in an excellent clerk, I shall not be able sufficiently to answer, for the convinci•••• of the gainsayer: yet nevertheless this my protestation shall be of me premised, that for the respect of the grounds and causes before considered, albeit I cannot conceive all that is to be conceived, neither can discuss all that is to be discussed, nor can effectually express all that can be expressed in the discourse of the doctrine of this most true religion, where|unto I am professed: yet I do bind myself, as by my humble simplicity, by faith in generality, to wrap my belief in the credit of the same, that no authority of that Romish reli|gion repugnant thereunto, shall by any means remove me from the same, though it may be that our adversaries will labour to beguile us with inticing words, and seek to spoil us through philosophy and deceitful vanity, after the tradi|tions of men, and after the ordinances of the world, and not after Christ, &c.

AND thus much of Mr. Saunders's letter, so much as re|maineth thereof: it is sufficient to understand, how good was his cause and state, being prisoner for Christ's cause. For the defence whereof, he wholly bestowed and so resign|ed himself, that he forbad his wife to sue for his delivery▪ and when others of his friends had by suit almost obtained it, he discouraged them, so that they did not follow their 〈◊〉〈◊〉, as by his letter following may appear.

LETTER II. From the Rev. Mr. SAUNDERS to his WIFE.

GRACE, mercy, and peace in Christ our Lord, intire|ly beloved wife, even as unto my 〈◊〉〈◊〉 soul and body, so do I daily in my hearty prayer with unto you; for I do daily, twice at least, in this sort remember you. And I do not doubt, dear wife, but that both I and you, as we are written in the book of life, so we shall together enjoy the same everlastingly, through the grace and mercy of God our d••••r father, in his Son our Christ. And for this present life, let us wholly appoint ourselves to the will of our good God, to glorify him either by life or by death; and even that same merciful Lord make us worthy to honour him eith••r way as pleaseth him. Amen. I am chearful, I thank my God and my Christ, in whom and through whom I shall (I know) be able to fight a good fight, and finish a good course, and then receive the crown, which is laid up in store for me, and all the true soldiers of Christ. Wherefore, wife, let us, in the name of our God, fight lustily to over|come the flesh, the devil, and the world. What our har|ness and weapons ••e in this kind of fight, look in the sixth chapter unto the Ephesians, and pray, pray, pray. I would that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••ake no suit for me in any wise. Thank you know whom, for her most sweet and comfortable putting me in remembrance of my journey whither I am passing. God send us all good speed, and a joyful meeting. I have too few such friends to further me in that journey, which is indeed the greatest friendship. The blessing of God be with you all. Amen.

A prisoner in the Lord. L. SAUNDERS.

THE constancy of this faithful servant of Christ, even unto the death, is sufficiently manifested and declared by his valiant contest with those two power|ful enemies, Antichrist and Death: to neither of these did he give place, and in the end got the vic|tory over them both. One of his conflicts was with Dr. Weston, in the Marshalsea, of which he thus writeth to one of his friends.

"DR. WESTON came to confer with Mr. Gri|moad: what he hath concluded with him I know not: I wish it may be to God's glory. Amen. Mr. Weston of his gentleness visited me, and offer|ed me friendship in his worldly wily sort, &c. I had not so much good manners as to take it at his ha••d: for I said, that I was well enough, and ready chearfully to abide any extremity, to keep thereby a good conscience. You are asleep in sin, said he. I would awake, said I, and do not forget Vigilate et crate, i. e. "Watch and pray." What church was there thirty years past, said he? What church was there, said I, in Elias's time? Joan of Kent, said he, was of your church. No, said I, we did condemn her as an heretic. Who was of your church said he, thirty years past? Such, said I, as the Romish Antichrist, and his rabble, have reputed and condemned as heretics. Wickliff, said he, Thorp, Oldcastle, &c. Yes, said I, with many more. The bishop of Rome hath, said he, a long time played a part in your railing sermons▪ but now, be ye sure, he must play another manner of part. The more pity, said I, and yet some comfort it is to see how that the most learned, wisest, and holiest of you all▪ have heretofore had him to play

a part likewise in your sermons and writings, tho' now, to please the world, you do turn with the weather-cock. Did you ever, said he, hear me preach against the bishop of Rome? No, said I, for I never heard you preach. But I think you have been no wiser than others, &c. with more about the sacrament. Pray, pray. God 〈◊〉〈◊〉 your family, and bless it."

IN order more fully to shew what blessed taste this good man and heroic martyr had of God's holy Spirit, we shall here insert two more of his letters, which he wrote in the Marshalsea, the first of which is addressed to Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer, prisoners for the like cause of Christ in Oxford.

LETTER III. From the Rev. Mr. SAUNDERS, to Archbishop CRAN|MER, Bishop RIDLEY, and the Rev. Mr. LATIMER, then Prisoners in Oxford.

IN my most humble wise I salute you, most reverend fathers in Christ Jesus our Lord. Immortal thanks and everlasting praises be given unto our Father of mer|cies, "which hath made us meet to be partakers of the Inheritance of the saints in light, which hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, by whom we have redemption through his blood," &c. Coloss. i. & iii. O most happy estate, that in an unspeakable wise our life is hid with Christ in God: but whensoever Christ which is our life shall shew himself, then shall we also appear with him in glory. Coloss. iii.4. In the mean season, as our sight is but in a glass, even in a dark speaking, so we walk in faith, not after outward appearance: which faith although for want of outward appearance, reason reputeth but as vain, yet the chosen of God do know the effect thereof, to bring a more substantial state and lively fruition of very felicity and perfect blessedness, then reason can reach, or senses re|ceive. By this faith we have in our possession all good things, yea even those "which the eye hath not seen, and the ear hath not heard, neither can enter into the heart of man," &c. 1 Cor. ii.9. Then if hereby we do enjoy all good things, it followeth, that we must needs possess, have, and enjoy you, most reverend fathers, who are no small part of our joy and good things given us of God.

WE heretofore have had the fruition of you by bodily presence to our inexplicable benefit, praised be that our most gracious God therefore. And now in spirit we have the experience of unspeakable comfort by your reverend father|hoods, for that in this so glorious sort ye are become a town set upon a hill, a candle upon a candlestick, a spectacle unto the world, both to the angels and unto men. Matt. v. So that as we to our great comfort do feel, you also may as|su••••dly, with St. Paul, 2 Cor. iv. say, that the things which happen unto us, do tend to the furtherance of the gospel; so that our bonds in Christ are manifest, not only through|out all the judgment-hall, but in all Europe; insomuch that many of the brethren in the Lord, being encouraged thro' our bonds, dare more boldly speak the word without fear, Phil. i. And herein as you have with St. Paul greatly to rejoice, so we rejoice with you, and we do indeed with you give thanks for this worthy excellent favour of our God towards you, that Christ is thus magnified in you, yea, and hereafter shall be magnified in your bodies, whether it be through life or death. Of which thing truly we are assured in our prayers for you, and ministering of the Spirit, Phil. ii. And although for your own parts, Christ is unto you in life and death advantage, and that your desire is (as in|deed it were better for you) to be loosed, and to be with Christ, yet for the church of Christ were it much more necessary, that ye should abide in the flesh. Yea, that mer|ciful God, even for Christ's sake, grant that you may abide and continue for the furtherance of the church, and increas•• of faith, that the rejoicing thereof may be the more abun|dant through Christ by your restoring. Amen, Amen.

BUT if it seem better otherwise unto the divine wisdom, that by speedy death he hath appointed you to glorify him, the Lord's will be done. Yea, even as we do rejoice both on your behalfs, and also on our own, that God is magnifi|ed by life, and should be more abundantly glad for the con|tinuance thereof; so we shall no less rejoice to have the same wrought by death. We shall give thanks for this honour given unto you, rejoicing that ye are accounted worthy to suffer for the name of Christ, and that "it is given to you of God, not only that ye should believe in him, but also that ye should suffer for his sake." And herein we shall have to rejoice in behalf of the church of Christ, whose faith may be the faster fixed upon God's verity, be|ing confirmed with three such worthy witnesses. O thanks be to God for this his unspeakable gift!

AND now, most reverend fathers, that you may under|stand the truth of us, and our estate how we stand in the Lord; I do assure your reverences, partly by what I per|ceive by such of your brethren as be here in bonds with me, partly by what I hear of them which be in other pla|ces, and partly by the inward experience which I, most un|worthy, have of God's good comfort, (more abundance whereof I know there is in others) you may be assured (I say) by God's grace, that you shall not be frustrated of your hope of our constant continuance in the chearful con|fession of God's everlasting verity. For even as we have received the word of truth, even the gospel of our salvation, wherein we believing are sealed with the holy Spirit of pro|mise,

which is the earnest of our inheritance (which Spirit certifieth our spirit, that we are the children of God, and therefore God hath sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, Abba, Father), so after such portion as God measureth unto us, we with the whole church of Christ, and with you reverend fathers, receiving the same spirit of faith, according as it is written, "I believed, and therefore I have spoken," 1 Cor. iv. we also believe, and therefore speak. For which we in this dangerous bondage and other afflictions, having even such a sight as we have seen in you, and have heard of you, are in no wise afraid of our ad|versaries.

AND forasmuch as we have such an office, even as God hath had mercy on us, we go not out of kind, but even with you, after our little power, we labour to maintain the faith of the gospel, knowing most certainly, that though "we have this measure in earthen vessels, that the excel|lency of this power might be God's, and not our's, 2 Cor. iv. yet shall we not be dashed in pieces; for the Lord will put his hand under us. When "we are troubled on every side, yet are we not without shift: when we are in poverty, we are not utterly without something: when we suffer persecu|tion, we are not forsaken therein: when we are cast down, yet we shall not perish:" but to communicate with our sweet Saviour Christ in bearing the cross, it is appointed unto us, that even with him also we shall be glorified: for it is a true saying; "If we be dead with him, we shall also live with him; if we be patient, we shall also reign with him: if we deny him, he shall also deny us," 1 Tim. ii. Wherefore are we of good cheer, "always bearing about in our body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus might appear also in our body: for we know, that he which raised up the Lord Jesus, shall raise up us also by the means of Jesus, and shall join us to himself together with you," 2 Cor. iv. Wherefore we are not wearied; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward ma•• is re|newed day by day. For our tribulation which is ••omen|tary and light, prepareth an exceeding and eternal weight of glory unto us, while we look not on the things which are seen, but on the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen, are temporal; but the things which are not seen, are eternal.

WE testify unto you, reverend fathers, that we draw these matters with joy out of the wells of the Saviour. And I trust we shall continually with you bless the Lord, and give thanks unto the Lord out of the wells of Israel; we trust to be merry together at that great supper of the Lamb, whose spouse we are by faith, and there to sing that song of everlasting Hallelujah, Amen. Yea, come Lord Jesus. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you, Amen.

LETTER IV. From the Rev. Mr. LAURENCE SAUNDERS to his WIFE.

GRACE and comfort in Christ Jesus, our only comfort in all extreme assaults, Amen. Fain would this flesh make strange of that which the spirit doth embrace. Oh! Lord, how loth is this loitering sluggard to pass forth in God's path? It fancieth much fear, and were it not for the force of faith, and of hope, great likelihood there were of fainting by the way. But blessed, and everlastingly blessed be that heavenly Father of our's, who in his Christ, our sufficient Saviour, hath vouchsafed to shine in our hearts, that he giveth us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ: and having "this trea|sure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power might be God's, and not our's; we are (according to his good will) troubled on every side, yet are we not without shift; we are in poverty, but yet not without what is suffi|cient; we s••ffer persecution, but are not forsaken therein; we are cast down, nevertheless we perish not; we bear in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus might also appear in our body." Wherefore by the grace of our Christ we shall not be wearied, neither be dismayed by this our probation through the fire of affliction, as tho' some strange thing had happened unto us: but by his power we shall rejoice, inasmuch as we are partakers of Christ's passion, that when he doth appear, we may be merry and glad, knowing that "our tribulation, which is momentary and light, prepareth an exceeding and eternal weight of glory unto us, while we look not on the things which are seen, but on the things which are not seen. They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. For he that goeth on his way weeping and scattering his good seed, shall doubtless come again with joy, and bring his whole sheaves with him." Then, then shall the Lord wipe away all tears from our eyes. Then, then shall be brought to pass that saying which is written, "Death is swallowed up in victory. Death, where is thy sting? Hell, where is thy victory? Yea, thanks be to God, which hath given the victory thro' our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen."

IN the mean season it remaineth for us to follow St. Pe|ter's advice: "Let them (saith he) that are troubled, ac|cording to the will of God, commit their souls to him with well-doing, as a faithful creator and maker." He is our maker, we are his handy-work and creatures, whom now when he hath made, he doth not leave and forsake, as the shipwright doth the ship, leaving it at all adventures to be tossed in the tempest, but he comforteth us his creatures, and in him we live, move, and have our being: yea, not only that, but now that he hath in his dear Christ repaired us, being before utterly decayed, and redeem•••• us, purging

us unto himself as a peculiar people by the blood of his Son; he hath put on a most tender good will and fatherly 〈…〉〈…〉 to fo••get us: unto whom by such promises he hath ••••light•••• such faith, that though it were possible that the mother could forget her infant, and not be tender-hearted to the child of her womb ye•• may not it be, that his faithful believers should be fo••gotten of him. He exhorteth us to cast all our care on him, and saith, that assuredly he careth for us. And what though for a season he doth suffer us to be tossed in the turbulent tempests of temptation, and seemeth as in much anger to have given us over, and forgotten us? Let not us for all that leave off to put our trust in him, but let us with godly Job conclude in ourselves and say, "Even though he kill me, yet will I put my trust in him." Let us with the blessed Abraham in hope, even contrary to hope, by belief lean unto that our loving Lord, who, though for our pro|bation he suffereth us to be afflicted, yet "will he not be always chi••ling, neither keepeth he his anger for ever: for he knoweth whereof we are made; he remembereth that we are but dust. Wherefore, look how high the heaven is in comparison of the earth, so great is his mercy towards them which fear him. Look how wide the east is from the we•••• so far hath he set our sins from us. Yea, like as a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••••tieth his own children, even so is the Lord mer|ciful un••o them that fear him." Oh! what great cause of rejoicing have we in our most gracious God? We cannot but burst forth in the praising of such a bountiful bene|factor, and say with the same Psalmist; "Praise the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me praise his holy name. Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits."

Dear wife, riches I have none to leave behind me, where|with to endow you after the worldly manner: but th•••• treasure of tasting how sweet Christ is unto hungry co••••sciences, (whereof I thank my Christ, I do feel part, and would feel more) that I bequeath unto you, and to the rest of my beloved in Christ, to retain the same in sense of heart always. Pray, pray. I am merry, and I trust I shall be merry, in spite of all the devils in hell. I utterly refuse my|self, and resign myself unto my Christ, in whom I know I shall be strong, as he seeth needful. Pray, pray, pray.

LAURENCE SAUNDERS.

WHEN Mr. Saunders was in prison, an order was sent to the keeper, that no person should speak with him; but his wife coming to the prison-gate with her young child in her arms, to visit her hus|band, the keeper, though he durst not, on account of his charge, suffer her to come into the prison, yet took the infant out of her arms, and brought him unto his father. Mr. Saunders, seeing the child, said. That he rejoiced more to have such a boy, than he should if two thousand pounds were given him. And to the stande•••• by, who praised 〈◊〉〈◊〉 goodliness of the child, he said, "What 〈◊〉〈◊〉 fear|ing God, would not lose this life, rather, than by prolonging it, ••he should adjudge this boy to be a bastard, his wife a wh••re, and himself a whore|monger? Yea, if there 〈…〉〈…〉 other cause, for which a man of my estate should lose his life, yet who would not give it, to vouch this child to be legitimate, and his marriage to be lawful and holy."

I do, good reader, (says Mr. Fox) recite this say|ing, not only to let you see what he thought of priests' marriage; but chiefly to let all married couples and parents learn to bear in their boso•••• true affection: natural, but yet seasoned with the true salt of the Spirit, unfeignedly and thoroughly mortified to do the natural works and offices of married couples and parents, so long as with their doings they may keep Christ with a free confessing faith in a clear conscience: otherwise both they and their own lives are so to be forsaken, as Christ re|quired them to be denied, and given in his cause.

AFTER this good and faithful martyr had been kept in prison one year and a quarter, the bishops at length called him, as they did his fellow-prisoners, openly to be examined; and the purport of his examination, as written by himself, here followeth:

The EXAMINATION of the Rev. Mr. SAUNDERS before the QUEEN'S COUNCIL, GARDINER, Bishop of Winchester, the then Chancellor, and other Bishops, being present.

In this Examination the Lord Chancellor thus spake:

L. CHAN.

IT is not unknown that you have been a prisoner, for such abominable here|sies and false doctrine as have been sown by you; and now it is thought good that mercy be shewed to such as seek for it. Wherefore if now you will shew yourself conformable, and come home again, mercy is ready. We must say that we have fallen in manner all: but now we are risen again, and re|turned to the catholic church; you must rise with us, and come home unto it. Give us forthwith a direct answer.

SAUND.

My lord, and my lords all, may it please your honours to give me leave to answer with deliberation.

CHAN.

Leave off your painting and pride of speech: for such is the fashion of you all, to please yourselves in your glorious words. Answer yes, or no.

SAUND.

My lord, it is no time for me now to paint. And as for pride, there is no great cause why it should be in me; my learning I confess to be but small; and as for riches or worldly wealth I have none at all▪ Notwithstanding, it standeth me in hand to answer your demand circumspectly, con|sidering that one of these two extreme perils are like to fall upon me, the losing of a good conscience, or the losing of this my body and life. And I tell you truth, I love both life and liberty, if I could enjoy them without the hurt of my conscience.

CHAN.

Conscience? you have none at all, but pride and arrogancy, dividing yourselves by singu|larity from the church.

SAUND.

The Lord is the knower of all men's consciences. And where your lordship layeth to my charge this dividing myself from the church, (as you do mean, and is now among you concluded upon, and I do understand) I do assure you that I live in the faith wherein I have been brought up since I was fourteen years of age; being taught that the power of the bishop of Rome is but usurp|ed, with many other abuses springing thereof. Yes, this I have received even at your hands that are here present, as a thing agreed upon by the catholic church and public authority.

CHAN.

But have you received by consent and authority all your heresies of the blessed sacrament of the altar?

SAUND.

My lord, it is less offence to cut off an arm, hand, or joint of man, than to cut off the head. For the man may live though he doth lose an arm, hand, or joint; but he cannot without his head. Now you, all the whole sort of you, had agreed to cut off the supremacy of the bishop of Rome, whom now you will have to be the head of the church again.

BP. OF LONDON.

And if it please your lordship, I have his hand against the blessed sacrament. How say you to that?

SAUND.

What I have written, that I have writ|ten, and farther I will not accuse myself. Nothing have you to burden me withal, for breaking of your laws since they were in force.

CHAN.

Well, you are obstinate, and refuse li|berty.

SAUND.

My lord, I may not buy my liberty at such a price: but I beseech your honours to be means to the queen's majesty for such a pardon for us, that we may live and keep our consciences un|clogged, and we shall live as most obedient subjects. Otherwise, I must say for myself, that by God's grace I will abide the utmost extremity that man may do against me, rather than act against my con|science.

CHAN.

Ah sirrah, you will live as you like. The Donatists did desire to live in singularity: but indeed they were not fit to live on earth: no more are you, and that you shall understand within these seven days; and therefore away with him.

SAUND.

Welcome be it, whatsoever the will of God shall be, either life or death. And I tell you truly, I have learned to die. But I exhort you to be|ware of shedding of innocent blood▪ Truly it will cry. The Spirit of God rest upon all your honours, Amen. This is the sum and form of my first ex|amination. Pray, &c.

THIS examination being ended, the officers led him out of the place, and stayed until the rest of his fellow-prisoners were likewise examined, that they might have them altogether to prison. Laurence Saunders, standing among the officers, seeing there a great multitude of people, spoke freely, warning them all of that which by their falling from Christ to Antichrist they deserved; and therefore exhort|ing them by repentance to rise again, and to em|brace

Christ with stronger faith, to confess him to the end, in the defiance of Antichrist, sin, death, and the devil: so should they retain the Lord's favour and blessing.

THE copies of his other examination and excom|munication came to the hands of such as do keep them still in secret. But in them, as he defended Christ's cause stoutly, so warned he the pharisaical bishops and papists of their hypocrisy and tyranny, and cleared himself of their unjust accusations.

HAVING been excommunicated and delivered over to the secular power, he was brought by the sheriff of London to the Compter, a prison in his own parish of Bread-street, whereat he rejoiced greatly, both because he found there a fellow-pri|soner, Mr. Cardmaker, with whom he had much christian and comfortable discourse; and because out of prison, as before out of a pulpit, he might have an opportunity of preaching to his parish|ioners.

ON the 4th day of February, Bonner, bishop of London, came to the prison to degrade him; which when he had done, Mr. Saunders said to him, "I thank God I am none of your church."

THE day following in the morning, the sheriff of London delivered him to certain of the queen's guard, which were appointed to carry him to the city of Coventry, there to be burned. The first night they came to St. Alban's, where Mr. Gri|moald (a man who had more store of good gifts, than of great constancy) did speak with him.

AFTER Mr. Saunders had given him a lesson meet for his lightness, he took a cup in his hand, and asked him if he would pledge him of that cup, of which he would begin to him. Grimoald, shew|ing by his shrugging and shrinking what he was, said, Of that cup which is in your hand I will pledge you: but of that other which you mean, I will not promise you. Well, said Mr. Saunders, my dear Lord Jesus Christ hath drunk to me of a more bitter cup than mine shall be, and shall I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 pledge my most sweet Saviour? Yes, I hope.

WHEN they were arrived at Coventry, a poor shoemaker, who used to serve him with shoes, came to him, and said, O my good master, God strengthen and comfort you. Good shoemaker, (Mr. Saun|ders replied) and I desire thee to pray for me, for I am the most unfit man for this high office, that ever was appointed to it but my gracious God and dear Father is able to make me strong enough. The same night he was put into the common jail among other prisoners, where he slept little, but spent the night in prayer, and instructing of others.

THE next day, being the 8th of February, he was led to the place of execution in the park, without the city, going in an old gown and a shirt, bare-footed, and often times fell f••••t on the ground, and prayed. When he was come nigh to the place, the officer appointed to see the execution done, said to Mr. Saunders, that he was one of them that marred the queen's realm with false doctrine and heresy, wherefore thou hast deserved death; but yet if thou wilt revoke thine heresies, the queen hath pardoned thee; if not, yonder fire is prepared for thee. To whom Mr. Saunders answered, It is not I, nor my fellow-preachers of God's truth that have hurt the queen's realm, but it is yourself, and such as you are, which have always resisted God's holy word; it is you who have and do marr the queen's realm. I do hold no heresies, but the doctrine of God, the blessed doctrine of Christ; that hold I, that believe I, that have I taught, and that will I never revoke. With that, this tormenter cried, Away with him. And away from him went Mr. Saunders, with a chearful courage, towards the fire. He fell on the ground, and prayed: he rose up again and took the stake to which he should be chained, in his arms, and kissed it, saying, Welcome the cross of Christ, welcome everlasting li••e: and being fastened to the stake, and fire put to him, full sweetly he slept in the Lord.

WELL might the apostle say, that if we only in th••s life have h••pe, we are of all men the most mi|serable. And what will the reader think, when he is told that this martyr was of a timid disposition? And yet here we see with what constancy he died. This is a strong proof that there must be ••n almigh|ty

power, working through faith in the hearts of those who are punished for the truth.

MR. SAUNDERS often told his friends, that many would suffer, if ever Mary ascended the throne. He knew the temper of that princess, and probably it was that which made him expect sufferings. It is for the benefit of succeeding ages, that God gives strength to the heart of man to suffer. It is to pro|mote many valuable purposes, by teaching us to set a proper value on the many national blessings we enjoy in the present age; and there is no way of making a better use of them, than to live in the practice of every virtuous and religious duty; to bless the Almighty for having delivered us from a worse than Egyptian darkness; for certainly po|pery, both in its spirit and tendency, can be called by no other name. We live in an age when, per|haps, our own wickedness has so much displeased God, that he has suffered the enemy to sow tares among us.

TO what other cause can we ascribe the increase of popery, which has not been confined to the capi|tal, but has even extended to the remotest parts of the kingdom? In Scotland, where, about thirty years ago, there were not, perhaps, two hundred papists, there are now as many thousands.

WE must impute much of this to our own re|missness in our duty. The popish priests use all the means they can think of to seduce our people, and they even have recourse to bribes. They get money from their gentry, part of which they give away to the poor; and those who are, in a manner, unprincipled in religion, will soon turn to any thing.

ANOTHER method used by them is, to spread a|mongst the poor small treatises on religious subjects; and these are generally filled with such bewildering notions, that the vulgar are easily caught in the s••are. Why should we not be as exact in preser|ving our people from these wolves in sheep's cloath|ing? Let us take an example from this pious martyr, whose life was a comment on his doctrine, and who lived as he preached. This will do more towards suppressing popery and deism, than the best discourses that can be formed.

SOME modern unbelievers have said, that the martyrs had good hearts, but confused heads; and to this they have added, that they were madmen. Supposing we should turn the argument against the deists, by begging the question, and asking them, whether Socrates, whom they so much glory in, was a madman, for asserting that there was but one divine being? For this crime (if it was one) So|crates suffered death, by being condemned to drink the hemlock. Now let any man read the Phaedon of Plato, and then let him answer whether Socrates did not die an enthusiast.

WHEN his friend came to visit him the day before he suffered, and told him the ship would return that day which would decide his fate: Socrates told him, that the ship would not arrive that day, for he had had a dream, which informed him of the contrary. Was not this a real sign of weakness, or rather of super|stition? Nay, did not Socrates with his last words desire, that a cock should be offered up to Escula|pius? Did ever a christian martyr make such a speech, when all the horrors of death presented themselves to his view? The answer is obvious, there is not an instance of it upon record. Thus the deist's argument falls to the ground.

IT is also said, they had good hearts, but their heads were not clear. Let us admit the assertion to be true, and let us consider the circumstances from which it took its rise. The whole truth will appear from a careful attention to the following things:

FIRST, Many of these men had, from motives of conscience, left that system of superstition in which they had been educated, and embraced the truth perhaps in a more violent manner than was consist|ent with that calmness of reflection, which must, at all times, conduct those to the knowledge of the truth, who would willingly obey the gospel. Un|der such circumstances men's minds must have been confused; they loved knowledge perhaps, but it was not in their power to find out the road that led towards it.

SECONDLY, It may be observed, that however desirable it may be to have a head well informed, it is much better to have a good heart. A man may

have much knowledge, and at the same time be destitute of piety. There have been many learned 〈◊〉〈◊〉 who were strangers to religion; there have been sufferers for the truth, who knew but little of what is commonly called human knowledge. Men may speak these things, at this distance of time, in what manner they please; but if they look back to history, they will be enabled to form more just opinions.

LASTLY, Let them consider the circumstances of the times: light breaking out from darkness is apt to bewilder the rational faculties; and men are fre|quently led into extravagancies, without any inten|tion to deceive. Indeed, the martyrs knew they had nothing to expect but sufferings, and therefore they thought they might, with a becoming pro|priety, avow their sentiments. It was their duty to do so, and it will remain a monument of their everlasting honour, that they were sincere in all their declarations.

THIS may serve to shew, that all the objections which, from time to time, have been brought against the martyrs, are extremely insignificant, and not worthy of a serious answer. Let those who live in the present age emulate the conduct of these men, and let them never forget, that however respectful knowledge may be, yet piety is much better. Those who really love God, never make any dis|play, in an ostentatious manner, of religion; but those who have no religion at heart, have generally a great deal of it in their mouths.

AND the better to understand what the grace of Christ worke•••• in his servants, and again, how weak man is in himself without the assistance of divine grac••, we shall here relate a conversation which passed between Mr. Saunders, in the beginning of his troubles, and Dr. Pendleton; to which we shall su••join a few more letters of the Rev. Mr. Saun|ders, full of godly instruction and consolation.

A CONVERSATION between the Rev. Mr. LAURENCE SAUNDERS and Dr. PENDLETON, in the beginning of QUEEN MARY'S Reign.

AT the change of religion in this realm, and the beginning of queen Mary's reign, doctor Pendleton and Mr. Saunders, men known to the world, not only to be learned, but also earnest preachers of God's word in the time of blessed king Edward, met together in the country, where by oc|casion they were at that time, and as the case re|quired (by reason of the persecution that was then at hand) sell to debate what was best for them to do in so dangerous a season. Whereunto Mr. Saun|ders, whether through very frailty of his weak fle••••, that was loth to taste the bitter cup, though his spirit were ready thereunto; or whether it were upon the mistrust of his own strength, that he might receive the greater power from above; or whether it were not for any one of the said causes alone▪ but for both together, or such like; seemed so fearful and feeble spirited, that he shewed himself in ap|pearance, like either to fall quite from God and his word, which he had taught, or at least, to fly the land, rather than to stick to his profession. Where|as Dr. Pendleton took upon him to comfort Mr. Saunders all that he might, (who on the contrary side appeared not so big of body, but as bold in courage, nor so earnest before in the pulpit, but as ready now to seal the same with his blood) admo|nishing him, as he could do it very well, not to for|sake cowardly his flock when he had most need ••o defend them from the wolf; neither having put his hand to God's plough, to start now aside and give it over; nor yet (what is worst of all) having once forsaken Antichrist, to fall either himself, or suffer others by his example to return to their vomit again.

AFTER which, and such like persuasions, bidding him be of good comfort, and to take a good heart unto him; What! man, (said he) there is a great deal more cause in me to be afraid th••n in you, for|asmuch as you see, I carry a greater mass of flesh upon my back than you do, and being so laden with a heavier lump of this vile carcase, ought therefore of nature to be more frail than you: and yet, said he, I will see the last drop of this grease of mine melted away, and the last particle of this flesh con|sumed to ashes, before I will forsake God and his truth. Whereunto the other answered but little, wishing that God would give him more strength than he then felt in himself, acknowledging his own weakness; but consented notwithstanding, though it were somewhat faintly, to join with him

in the profession of the gospel, and so to go up to London, and set forth the same; whereupon they gave each other their hands.

NOW when they were come to London, behold, what a great change was there between these two persons! The poor, feeble, and faint-hearted Saun|ders, by the goodness of Almighty God, taking heart of grace to him, seeking the same in humility, boldly and stoutly confirmed his flock out of the pulpit, where his charge lay, mightily beating down Antichrist, and zealously preaching Christ his master, for which he afterwards suffered most willingly, as is before declared. Whereas, on the other side, Dr. Pendleton the proud (who as it appeared by the sequel, had been more stout in words than con|stant in deeds, and a greater boaster than a good warrior) no sooner came to London than he changed his mind, and played the apostate, preaching instead of sound doctrine nothing almost but errors and lies, advancing Antichrist, and overthrowing Christ with all his might: so his former boldness came to nothing, unless it were a contrary key, becoming of a faithful pastor, a false runagate; and of a true preacher, a sworn enemy to God's everlasting testa|ment; to the great offence of his brethren, the hurt of his flock, and the utter undoing, without God's 〈◊〉〈◊〉 mercy, of his own soul. Wherein is espe|cially to be considered the deep and marvellous judgment of God, who as he can and doth make strong whom he pleaseth, when he seeth his time, and most commonly such as appear most feeble: so on the other hand, he throweth down others, seem they ever so stout, stand they ever so much in their own conceits. Wherefore let him that standeth take heed he fall not, and let us pray continually to Almighty God, though we have faith, that he will help and increase our faith, that in him it may be made strong, which of itself is so weak, that it is soon overthrown.

WHILE this good man was confined in prison, he did not pass his time in unfruitful idleness, but still from time to time did visit his friends, (as is said) and especially his wife, with many letters; some of which we thought not improper here to insert.

LETTER V. From the Rev. Mr. LAURENCE SAUNDERS, to Bishop FERRAR, Dr. TAYLOR, Mr. BRADFORD, and Mr. PHILPOT.

GRACE, mercy, and peace in Jesus Christ our Lord, &c. Good fathers, and dear brethren, be thankful unto our most gracious God, which hath preserved us, and shall (I doubt not) from blaspheming his blessed name: yea, not only that, but also "Out of the mouths of very babes and sucklings shall be set forth his praise." They offer us our liberty and pardon, so that we will rise with them into that faith which we with them were fallen from. Yes, or no, must be answered in haste. They will not admit any needful circumstances, but all (as heretofore) most detesta|ble and abominable. Rise with them we must unto the unity. And pardon, I say, of me must not so dearly be purchased. A pardon I desire, to live with an unclogged conscience. The Donatists, they say, sought for such sin|gularity, but they were not meet •••• live in a common|wealth, no more be you, as you shall shortly understand. Wherefore away with him: yea, the time was named with|in this se'nnight. There are twelve hours in the day. Death shall be welcome, say I, as being looked for long since; and yet to do justice ye were best, for Abel's blood cried, ye know what. The Spiri•• of God be upon you, and save your honours. Thus departed I from them. Pray, pray. I am a child, I cannot speak. My brother Philpot shall shew you more herein. By him send me word what you have done. Farewel, and pray, pray. I would gladly meet with my good brother Bradford on the backside about eleven o'clock. Before that time I cannot start out, we have such out-walkers, but then will they be at dinner.

Your's as you know, LAURENCE SAUNDERS.

LETTER VI. From the Rev. Mr. LAURENCE SAUNDERS to his WIFE, and others of his Pastoral Flock, written in the Compter, the last day of January, 1555, after his Condemnation.

THE grace of Christ, with the consolation of the Holy Ghost, to the keeping of the faith and •• ••ood con|science, confirm, and keep you for ever vessels to God's glory. Amen.

OH! what worthy thanks can be given to our gracious God for his unmeasurable mercies plentifully poured upon us? And I most unworthy wr••••ch cannot but p••••r forth

at this present, even from the bottom of my heart, the be|wailing of my great ingratitude and unkindness towards so gracious a God and loving Father. I beseech you all, as for my other many sins, so especially for that sin of my un|thankfulness; crave pardon for me in your earnest prayers, commending me to God's great mercies in Christ.

TO number these mercies in particular, were to number the drops of water which are in the sea, the sands on the shore, the stars in the sky. O my dear wife, and ye the rest of my friends, rejoice with me, I say rejoice with thanksgiving for this my present promotion, in that I am made worthy to magnify my God, not only in my life, by my stow mouth and uncircumcised lips, bearing witness unto his truth, but also by my blood to seal the same, to the glory of my God, and confirming of his true church: and as yet I testify unto you, that the comfort of my sweet Christ doth drive from my mind the fear of death. Bu•• if Christ doth for my trial leave me alone a little to myself, alas! I know in what case I shall be then: but if for my proof he do so, yet I am sure he will not be long or far from me. He is a very tender-hearted Joseph; though he speak roughly to his brethren, and handle them hardly, yea, threat|en grievous bondage to his best beloved brother Benjamin; yet can he not contain himself from weeping with us, and upon us. Such, such a brother is our Christ unto all. Wherefore hasten to go unto him as Jacob did with his sons and family, leaving their country and acquaintance. Yea, this our Joseph hath obtained for us, that Pharaoh the infi|del shall minister unto us chariots, wherein at ease we may be carried to come unto him: as we have experienced how our adversaries do help us unto our everlasting bliss by their speedy dispatch: yea, and how all things have been helping hereunto; blessed be our God. Be not afraid. Fear ra|ther the everlasting fire: fear the serpent which hath that deadly sting, of which by bodily death they shall be brought to taste which are not grafted in Christ, wanting faith and a good conscience, and so are not acquainted with Christ the killer of death. But oh, my dear wife and friends! we, we whom God hath delivered from the power of darkness, and hath translated into the kingdom of his dear Son, by putting off the old man, and by faith putting on the new, even our Lord Jesus Christ, his wisdom, holiness, righte|ousness, and redemption; we, I say, have to triumph against the terrible spiteful serpent the devil, sin, hell, death, and damnation. For Christ, our brazen serpent, hath pulled away the sting of this serpent, so that now we may boldly, in beholding it spoiled of its sting, triumph; and with our Christ and all his elect say, "Death where is thy sting? Hell, where is thy victory? Thanks be to God, who hath given us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ."

WHEREFORE be merry, my dear wife, and all my dear fellow heirs of the everlasting kingdom, always remember the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be p••tient in tribulation, con|tinue in prayer; and pray for us now appointed to the slaughter, that we may be unto our heavenly Father a fat offering, and an acceptable sacrifice. I may hardly writ▪ to you. Wherefore let these few words be a witness of my commendations to you and all them which love us in the faith; and namely, unto my flock, among whom I am resident by God's providence, but as a prisoner.

AND although I am not so among them, as •• have be••••, to preach to them out of a pulpit, yet doth God now preach unto them by me, by this my imprisonment and captivity which now I suffer among them for Christ's gospel's sake, bidding them b••ware of the Romish antichristian religion and kingdom, requiring and charging them to abide in the truth of Christ, which is shortly to be sealed with the blood of their pastor; who though unworthy of such a ministry, yet Christ thei•• high pastor is to be regarded, whose truth hath been taught them by me, is witnessed by my chains, and shall be by my death, through the power of that high pastor. Be not careful, good wife, cast your care upon the Lord, and commend me unto him in repentant prayer, as I do you and our Samuel; whom, even at the stake, I will offer as myself unto God. Farewel all in Christ, in hope to be joined with you in joy everlasting. This hope is put up in my bosom, Amen, Amen. Pray, pray.

LETTER VII. To Mrs. LUCY HARRINGTON.

GRACE and mercy, &c. It happeneth oftentimes that abundance of matter bringeth with it much vehe|mency of friendly affection, maketh men dumb, and even then chiefly when there is most eager purpose of speaking, silence doth suppress, and causeth the party so affected im|perfectly to express what he goeth about to utter. Such impediment by much matter, mingled with fervency of affection, feel I sometimes in myself, hindering the utter|ance, either by tongue or writing, of the abundance of the heart. The love of our most gracious God and heavenly Father, bestowed upon us in the merits of Christ our Sa|viour, who may, by conceit of mind, comprehend, passing indeed all understanding' Much less may the same by any means be expressly uttered. And as such heavenly bles|sings, which by faith we fetch from above, are inexplicable, so it is hard to utter, when the faithful are set o•• fire by love, their readiness to reach forth and to give by charity, as by faith they have received. "But, alas! we carry this trea|sure in earthen vessels." Many times faith is feeble, and then love loseth her favour. Pray we therefore, Lord in|crease our faith, and love forthwith will be on fire. And immortal thanks be given unto our God, who in our Christ hath bestowed upon us the first fruits of his Spirit, who crieth in our hearts, Abba, Father. And, as St. Paul saith, "Seeing we have the sam•• Spirit of ••aith, according as it is written; I believed, and therefore have I spoken: we also believe, and therefore we speak." Yea, G••d knoweth, this Spirit putteth us in a mind to speak, but in attempting

thereof we are driven with Moses to say, "O Lord, I am slow in speech and of uncircumcised lips; and with Jeremy, "O Lord, I cannot speak."

BUT though this infancy restraineth the opening of such abundance of heart, in my tender christian duty to be de|clared towards you, yet I beseech you, let this be settled in your understanding; that as St. Paul expresseth unto his Corinthians, they wer•• in his heart either to live or to die, with many other such sayings uttered unto them and the Galatians, expressing his vehement affection towards them; so in some part I would be like affected towards all God's children, and especially towards you whom I know in Christ, and to whom I will not say how much I am indebt|ed. I thank you for your great friendship and tender good will towards my wife: yea, that good gracious God recom|pense you, which may worthily with the more countervail the same, and fulfil that which lacketh of thankful duty in us. And because of that which heretofore I have conceived of you, and o•• your more than natural love towards me and mine; I make myself thus bold to lay this burden upon you, even the care and charge of my said poor wife; I mean, to be unto her a mother and mistress to rule and di|rect her by your discreet counsel. I know she conceiveth of you the same that I do, and is thankful unto God for such a friend; and therefore I beseech you even for Christ's sake, put never from you this friendly charge over her, whether I live longer, or shortly depart. But to charge you otherwise, thanks be to God, neither I nor she have any such extreme need: if we had, I would be as bold with you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 my own mother. I beseech you, give my hearty 〈◊〉〈◊〉 unto Mr. Fitz•• Williams, and my good lady, with thanks also for my poor wife and child: the Lord re|compense them.

L. SAUNDERS.

LETTER VIII. To his WIFE, exhorting her with him to commend their Child SAMUEL to the Blessing of GOD.

GRACE and comfort, &c. Wife, you shall do best not to come often unto the grate where the porter may see you. Put not yourself in danger where it needs not; you shall, I think, shortly come far enough into danger by keeping faith and a good conscience: which, dear wife, I trust you do not 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to make reckoning and account upon, by exercising your inward man in meditation of God's most holy word, being the sustenance of the soul, and also by giving yourself to humble prayer, for these two things are the very means how to be made members of our Christ meet to inherit his kingdom.

DO this, dear wife, in earnest, and not leaving off, and s•• we two shall with our Christ and all his chosen children, enjoy the merry w••rld in that everlasting immortality; whereas here will nothing else be found but extreme mise|ry, even of them which most greedily seek this worldly wealth: and so, if we two continue God's children grafted in our Christ▪ the same God's blessing which we receive shall also settle upon our Samuel. Though we do shortly depart hence and leave the poor infant (to our seeming) at all adventures, yet shall he have our gracious God to be his God: for so hath he said, and he cannot lye; I will be thy God, saith he, and the God o•• thy seed. Yea, if you leave him in the wilderness destitute of all help, being called of God to do his will, either to die for the confession of Christ, or any work of obedience; that God which heard the cry of the little poor infant of Hagar, Sarah's hand|maiden, and did succour it, will do the like to your child, or any other fearing him, and putting your trust in him.

AND if we lack saith, as we do indeed many times, let us call for it, and we shall have the increase both of it and also of any other good grace needful for us; and be merry in God, in whom also I am very merry and joyful. O Lord, what great cause of rejoicing have we, to think upon that kingdom, which he vouchsafeth for his Christ's sake freely to give us, forsaking ourselves and following him▪ Dear wife, this is truly to follow him, even to take up the cross and follow him; and then as we suffer with him here, so shall we reign with him everlastingly, Amen.

LETTER IX. To his WIFE, Mr. HARRINGTON, and other FRIENDS.

GRACE and comfort, &c. Dear wife, rejoice in our gracious God, and his and our Christ; and give thanks most humbly and heartily to him for this day's work, that in any part I most unworthy wretch should be made worthy to bear witness unto his everlasting verity, which Antichrist with his main force, I perceive, and by most im|pudent pride and boasting will go about to suppress. Re|member God always, my dear wife, and so shall God's bles|sing light upon you and your Samuel. O remember al|ways my words for Christ's sake; be chearful, grudge not against God, and pray, pray. We are all merry 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thanks be unto our God, who in his Christ hath given us great cause to be merry, by whom he hath prepared for us such a kingdom, and doth and will give unto us some little taste thereof, even in this life, and to all such as are desirous to take it. "Blessed (saith our Christ) are they which hun|ger and thirst after righteousness, for such shall be satisfied." Let us go▪ yea, let us run to seek such treasure, and that with whole purpose of heart to cleave unto the Lord, to find such riches in his heavenly word through his Spirit obtained by prayer. My dear friends and brethren, Mr. Harrington and Mr. Hurland, pray, pray. "The spirit is ready, but the flesh is weak." When I look upon myself, being astonished and confounded, what have I else to say but those words of Peter, "Lord, go from me, for I am a sinful man?" But then I feel that sweet comfort, "The

word of the Lord is a lanthorn unto my feet, and a light unto my paths:" and this is my comfort in my trouble. Then am I bold with the same Peter to say, "Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of everlasting life." This comfort have I, when the giver thereof doth give it. But I look for battles, which the root of unfaith|fulness, which I feel in me, will most eagerly give unto my conscience, when we come once to the combat. We are (I think) within the sound of the trump of our enemies. Play ye that are abroad the part of Moses, "Praying in all places, lifting up pure hands:" and God's people shall pre|vail: yea, our blood shall be their perdition who do most triumphantly spill it, and we then being in the hands of our God, shall shine in his kingdom, and shall stand in great stedfastness against them which have dealt extremely with us: and when these our enemies shall thus see us, they shall be vexed with horrible fear, and shall wonder at the hasti|ness of the sudden health▪ and shall say with themselves, having inward sorrow and mourning for very anguish of mind: "Th••se are they whom we some time had in deri|sion and jested upon: we fools thought their lives to be very madness, and their end to be without honour: but lo! how are they accounted among the children of God." The blessing of God be with you all, &c.

LAURENCE SAUNDERS.

LETTER X. To his WIFE, a little before his Martyrdom.

GRACE and comfort in Christ, Amen. Dear wife, be merry in the mercies of our Christ, and also you my dear friends. Pray, pray for us every body. We are shortly to be dispatched hence unto our good Christ, Amen, Amen. Wife, I would have you send me my shirt, which you know whereunto it is consecrated. Let it be sewed down on both sides, and not open. O my heavenly Father, look upon me in the face of thy Christ, or else I shall not be able to abide thy countenance; such is my filthiness. He will do so, and therefore I shall not be afraid what sin, death, hell, and damnation can do against me, O wife, always re|member the Lord. God bless you, yea, he will bless thee, good wife, and thy poor boy also: only cleave unto him, and he will give thee all things. Pray, pray, pray.

LAURENCE SAUNDERS.

TO the foregoing letters of the Rev. Mr. Saun|ders, which were dispersed among the faithful con|gregation of Christ, we shall add two other letters, written by Mr. Edward Saunders, the justice, his brother, and sent to our martyr while in prison; to the intent that our readers may see, how in these two brethren, joined in consanguinity, but divided in religious sentiments, the word of the Lord was verified in them, which saith, "Brother shall 〈◊〉〈◊〉 up and be against brother," &c.

LETTER I. From Justice SAUNDERS to his Brother, the Rev. Mr. LAURENCE SAUNDERS, prisoner in the Compter.

AFTER my most hearty commendations, these are to ascertain you, that I have spoken with Mr. Basset, who hath shewed me, that four pounds (all deductions being allow|ed) is the whole that hath come to his hands of the profit of the prebendary at York, the which you shall have, altho' as he thinketh, it was not due unto you by reason of your deprivation before it was due. As concerning your con|science in religion, I beseech God it may be lightened by the Holy Ghost, and that you also may have the grace of the Holy Ghost to follow the counsel of St. Paul to Timothy, ch. ii. "To handle rightly the word of truth." Wherein you dissenting from many holy and catholic men, especially in the sacrament, it maketh me in my conscience to condemn your's. For although I have not hitherto fancied to read Peter Martyr, and other such, &c. yet have I had great desire to see Theophylact and divers others of this sort and opinion▪ both notable and holy fathers, (if any credit be to be given to the writings of our ancient fathers before us) and surely the sentences and judgments of two or three of them have more confirmed my conscience, than three hundred of the Zuinglians, or as many Lutherans can or should do. Th•••• in haste, willing to relieve you, to the end you might con|vert, if you shall need towards your finding, if you shall re|quire it of me, you shall unfeignedly find my money ready, as knoweth our Lord, who sends us all things good for us. Scribbled this Thursday by your brother and petitioner to God.

EDW. SAUNDERS.

LETTER II. From the same to the ••ame▪ wherein the Justice endea|vours to gain over his Brother to Popery, by sending him the Meditations of St Bernard.

AS nature and brotherly love with godly charity requir|eth, I send you by these letters most hearty commen|dation, being sorry for your fault and disobedient handling of yourself towards my lord chancellor, who, I assure you, mindeth your good and preservation, if you can so consider and take it. I would be glad to know whether you have not had with you of late some learned men to talk with you by my lord chancellor's appointment, and how you can frame yourself to reform your error in the opinion of the most blessed and our most comfortable sacrament of the altar. Wherein I assure you, I was never in all my life better

affected than I am at this present, using to my great com|fort hearing of mass and somewhat before the sacrament time, the meditation of St. Bernard, set forth in the third leaf of this present book. The accustomable using whereof I am fully professed unto, during my life, and to give more faith unto that confession of holy Bernard, than to Luther, &c. or Latimer, &c. for that the antiquity, the universality of the open church, and the consent of all saints and doc|tors do confirm the same, ascertaining you, that I have been earnestly moved in my own conscience these ten or twelve days past, and also between God and myself, to move you to the same, most earnestly desiring you, and as you tender my natural, godly, and friendly love towards you, that you would read over this book this holy time, at my request, although you have already seen it, and let me know wherein you cannot satisfy your own conscience. Thus fare you well for this time.

By your's from Serjeant's-Inn, EDW. SAUNDERS.

CHAP. II. The LIFE and MARTYRDOM of JOHN HOOPER, Bishop of WORCESTER and GLOUCES|TER, who was burned for maintaining and defending the TRUE RELIGION, February 9th, 1555.

JOHN HOOPER, student and graduate in the university of Oxford, after the study of the sciences, wherein he had abundantly profited and proceeded, was stirred with fervent desire to the love and knowledge of the scriptures. Growing more and more, by God's grace, in ripeness of spi|ritual understanding, and shewing withal some sparkles of his fervent spirit, being then about the beginning of the six articles, in the time of king Henry VIII. fell quickly into displeasure, and ha|tred of certain doctors at Oxford, who by and by began to stir coals against him, whereby, and espe|cially by the procurement of Dr. Smith, he was compelled to quit the university; and removing from thence, was retained in the house of Sir Thomas Arundel, and there was his steward, till the time that Sir Thomas Arundel, having intelli|gence of his opinions and religion, which he in no case did favour, and yet exceedingly favouring the person and conditions of the man, found the means to send him with a message to the bishop of Win|chester, writing his letter privily to the bishop, by conference of learning to do some good unto him, but in any case requiring him to send home his ser|vant to him again.

WIN••H••STER, after long conference with Mr. Hooper, four or five days together, at length per|ceiving, that neither he could do that good which he thought to him, nor that he would take any good at his hand, according to Mr Arundel's re|quest, he sent home his servant again, right-well commending his learning and wit, but yet bearing in his breast a grudge against Mr. Hooper.

NOT long after this, as malice is always working mischief, intelligence was given to Mr. Hooper to provide for himself, for danger was working a|gainst him: whereupon Mr. Hooper left Mr. A|rundel's house, and borrowing a horse of a certain friend (whose life he had saved a little before from the gallows), took his journey to the sea-side to go to France, sending back the horse again by one, who indeed did not deliver him to the owner. Mr. Hooper being at Paris, tarried there not long, but in a short time returned to England again, and was retained by Mr. Sentlow, till the time ••hat he was again molested and fought for; whereby he was compelled (under the pretence of being captain of a ship going to Ireland) to take to the seas, and so escaped (although not without extreme peril of drowning) thro' France, to the higher parts of Germany. Where, commencing acquaintance with learned men, he was by them friendly and

lovingly entertained, both at Basil, and especially at Zurich, by Mr. Bullinger, being his singular friend. Where also he married his wife, who was a Bur|gonian, and applied very studiously to the Hebrew tongue.

AT length, when God saw it good to stay the bloody time of the six articles, and to give us king Edward to reign over this realm, with some peace and rest unto the church, amongst many other En|glish exiles, who then repaired homeward, Mr. Hooper also, moved in conscience, thought not to absent himself, but seeing such a time and occasion, offered to help forward the Lord's work, to the ut|termost of his ability. And coming to Mr. Bullin|ger, and other of his acquaintance in Zurich, (as duty required) to give them thanks for their singu|lar kindness and humanity towards him many ways declared, with like humanity again purposed to take his leave of them at his departing, and so he did. Unto whom Mr. Bullinger (who had always a special favour to Mr. Hooper) spake on this wise; "Mr. Hooper, (saith he) although we are sorry to part with your company for our own cause, yet much greater cause have we to rejoice, both for your sake, and especially for the cause of Christ's true religion, that you shall now return out of long banishment into your native country again, where not only you may enjoy your own private liberty; but also the cause and state of Christ's church by you may fare the better, as we doubt not but it will. Another cause moreover why we rejoice with you and for you, is this; that you shall remove not only out of exile into liberty, but you shall leave here a barren, a four, and an unpleasant country, rude and savage, and shall go into a land flowing with milk and honey, replenished with all pleasure and fertility. Notwithstanding, with this our rejoicing one fear and care we have, le••t you being absent, and so far distant from us, or else coming to such abundance of wealth and felicity, in your new wel|fare and plenty of all things, and in your flourish|ing honours, where you shall come peradventure to be a bishop, and where ye shall find so many new friends, you will forget us your old acquaintances and well-wishers. Nevertheless, howsoever you shall forget and shake us off, yet this persuade yourself, that we will not forget our old friend and fellow Mr. Hooper. And if you will please not to forget us, then I pray let us hear from you."

WHEREUNTO Mr. Hooper answering again, first gave to Mr. Bullinger and the rest hearty thanks, for that their singular good will and undeserved af|fection, appearing not only now, but at all times towards him; declaring moreover, that as the prin|cipal cause of his removing to his country was the matter of religion; so touching the unpleasant|ness and barrenness of that country of their's, there was no cause therein why he could not find in his heart to continue all his life there, as soon as in any place in the world, and rather than in his own na|tive country, if there were nothing else in his con|science that moved him so to do. And as touching the forgetting of his old friends, although, said he, the remembrance of man's country naturally doth delight him, neither could he deny but God had blessed his country of England with many great commodities; yet neither the nature of the country, nor pleasure of the commodities, nor newness of friends should ever induce him to the oblivion of such friends and benefactors, whom he was so en|tirely bound unto: and therefore you shall be sure, said he, from time to time to hear from me, and I will write unto you how it goeth with me. But the last news of all I shall not be able to write; for there, said he, (taking Mr. Bullinger by the hand) where I shall take most pains, there shall you hear of me to be burned to ashes; and that shall be the last news, which I shall not be able to write to you, but you shall hear of me, &c.

TO this also may be added another like prophe|tical demonstration, foreshewing the manner of his martyrdom wherewith he should glorify God, which was this: when Mr. Hooper being made bishop of Worcester and Gloucester, should have his arms given him by the herald, as the manner is here in England, every bishop to have his arms assigned unto him (whether by the appointment of Mr. Hooper, or by the herald, I have not certainly to say) but the arms which were to him allotted was this, A lamb in a fiery bush, and the sun beams from heaven descending down upon the lamb▪ rightly denoting, as it seemed, the order of his suf|ferings, which afterwards followed.

BUT to proceed: when Mr. Hooper had taken his farewel of Mr. Bullinger, and his friends in Zurich, he repaired again into England in the reign of king Edward the sixth, and coming to London, used continually to preach, most times twice, at least once every day.

IN his sermons, according to his accustomed manner, he corrected sin, and sharply inveighed a|gainst the iniquity of the world, and corrupt abuses of the church▪ the people in great flocks and com|panies daily came to hear his voice, as the most me|lodious sound and tune of Orpheus's harp, inso|much, that oftentimes when he was preaching, the church would be so full, that none could enter fur|ther than the doors thereof. In his doctrine he was earnest, in tongue eloquent, in the scriptures per|fect, in pains indefatigable.

MOREOVER, besides his other gifts and qualities, this is in him to be admitted, that even as he began, so he continued unto his life's end. For neither could his labour and pains-taking break him, pro|motion change him, nor dainty fare corrupt him. His life was so pure and good, that no kind of slan|der (although some went about to revile him) could fasten any fault upon him. He was of body strong, his health whole and sound, his wit very pregnant, his invincible patience able to sustain whatsoever sinister fortune and adversity could do. He was constant of judgment, spare of diet, sparer of words, and sparest of time. In house-keeping very liberal, and sometimes more free than his living would extend unto. Briefly, of all those virtues and qualities required of St. Paul in a good bishop, in his epistle to Timothy, I know not one in this good bishop lacking. He bare in co••••••••••|ance and talk always a certain reserve and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 grace, which might peradventure be wished 〈◊〉〈◊〉 time to have been a little more popular and vulgar-like i•• him; but he knew what he had to do 〈◊〉〈◊〉 himself.

ONCE an honest citizen, having in himself a cer|tain conflict of conscence, came to his door for coun|sel, but being abashed at his austere behaviour, durst not come in, but departing, seeking remedy for his troubled mind at other men's hands, which he afterwards, by the help of Almighty God, did find and obtain. Therefore, in my judgment, such as are appointed and made governors over the flock of Christ, to teach and instruct them, ought so to frame their life, manners, countenance, and external behaviour, as neither to shew themselves too fami|liar and light, whereby to be brought into contempt; nor on the other side again, that they appear more lofty and rigorous, than appertaineth to the edi|fying the simple flock of Christ. Nevertheless, as every man hath his peculiar gift wrought in him by nature, so this disposition of fatherly gravity in this man neither was excessive, nor did he bear that personage that was in him, without great consider|ation. For it seemed to him peradventure, that this licentious and unbridled life of the common sort ought to be chastened, not only with words and discipline, but also with the grave and severe coun|tenance of good men.

AFTER he had practised himself in this popular and common kind of preaching; at length, and that not without the great profit of many, he was called to preach before the king's majesty, and soon after made bishop of Gloucester by the king's com|mandment. In that office he continued two years, and behaved himself so well, that his very enemies (except it were for his good doings, and sharp cor|rection of sin) could find no fault with him, and after that he was made bishop of Worcester.

BUT I cannot tell what sinister and unlucky conten|tion concerning the ordering and consecration of bishops, and of their apparel, with such other like tri••••es, began to disturb the good beginning of this bishop. For notwithstanding that godly reforma|tion of religion that begun in the church of En|gland, besides other ceremonies more ambitious than profitable, or tending to edification, they used to wear such garments and apparel as the popish bish|ops were wont to do: first a chymer••, and under that a white ••ochet, then a mathematical cap with four angels, dividing the whole world into four parts. These trifles, tending more to su|perstition than otherwise, as he could never abide, so in no wise could he be persuaded to wear them. For this cause he made supplication to the king's majesty, most humbly desiring his highness, either to discharge him of the bishopric, or else to dispense with him for such ceremonial orders. Whose peti|tion

the king granted immediately, writing his let|ter to the archbishop after this purport.

KING EDWARD VI. his LETTER to the Archbishop of CANTERBURY, and other Bishops.

RIGHT reverend father, and right trusty and well-be|loved, we greet you well. Whereas we, by the ad|vice of our council, have called and chosen our right well-beloved and well worthy, Mr. John Hooper, professor of divinity, to be our bishop of Gloucester, as well for his great knowledge, deep judgment, and long study both in the scriptures, and prophane learning, as also for his good discretion, ready utterance, and honest life for that kind of vocation: to the intent all our loving subjects, which are in his said charge, and elsewhere, might by his sound and true doctrine learn the better their duty towards God, their obedience towards us, and love towards their neighbours: from consecrating of whom we understand you do stay, be|cause he would have you omit and let pass certain rites and ceremonies offensive to his conscience, whereby ye think ye should fall in premunire of laws; we have thought good, by the advice aforesaid, to dispense and discharge you of all manner of dangers, penalties, and forfeitures, you shall ••un and be in any manner of way, by omitting any of the same. And these our letters shall be your sufficient warrant and discharge therefore.

Given under our signet at our Castle of Windsor, the 5th of August, the fourth year of our reign.

• ED. SOMERSET
• W. WILTSHIRE
• W. NORTH
• W. PAGET
• AN. WINGFIELD
• N. WOOTON.

A LETTER from the Earl of WARWICK, to the Arch|bishop of CANTERBURY, to this effect, that Mr. HOOPER might not b•• burdened with the Oath, used commonly in the Consecration of Bishops.

AFTER my most hearty commendations to your grace, these may be to desire the same, that in such reasonable things, wherein this bearer, my lord elect of Gloucester, craveth to be borne withal at your hands, you would vouchsafe to shew him your grace's favour, the ra|ther at this my instance: which thing partly I have taken in hand by the king's majesty's own motion. The matter is weighed by his highness, none other but that your grace may easily condescend unto. The principal cause is, that you would not charge this said bearer with an oath bur|densome to his conscience. And so for l••ck of time I com|mit your grace to the tuition of Almighty God. From Westminster, July 23, 1550.

Your grace's most assured loving friend, J. WARWICK.

BUT notwithstanding this grant of the king, and also the earl's letter aforesaid, the bishops still stood earnestly in defence of the aforesaid ceremonies, saying, it was but a small matter, and that the fault was in the abuse of the things, and not in the things themselves; adding moreover, that he ought not to be so stubborn in so light a matter, and that his wilfulness therein was not to be suffered.

TO be short, while both parties thus contended about this matter more than reason would, in the mean time occasion was given, as to the true chris|tians to lament, so to the adversaries to rejoice. In conclusion, this theological contention came to this end, that, the bishops having the upper hand, Mr. Hooper was fain to agree to this condition, that sometimes he should in his sermon shew himself apparelled as the other bishops were. Wherefore, being appointed to preach before the king, as a new player in a strange apparel, he cometh forth on the stage. His upper garment was a long scarlet chy|mere down to the foot, and under that a white lin|nen rochet, that covered all his shoulders. Upon his head he had a geometrical, that is, a four-squar|ed cap, albeit that his head was round. What cause of shame the strangeness hereof was that day to that good preacher, every man may easily judge. But this private injury and reproach, in respect of the public profit of the church, which he only sought, he bore and suffered patiently.

IT now remaineth to record the godly reconci|liation of these good men, in time of persecution, as appeareth from the following letter, sent from bish|op Ridley to the bishop of Gloucester, of which, as it was written in Latin, the following is a faithful translation into English.

A LETTER of RECONCILIATION from Bishop RIDLEY, to JOHN HOOPER, Bishop of GLOUCESTER.

TO my dear brother and reverend fellow elder in Christ, John Hooper, grace and peace. My dearly beloved brother and fellow elder, whom I reverence in the Lord, pardon me I beseech you, that hitherto since your cap+tivity and mine, I have not saluted you by my letters: where|as I do indeed confess, I received from you (such was your gentleness) two letters at sundry times: but yet at such time as I could not be suffered to write to you again; or if I might, yet was I in doubt how my letters might safely

come into your hands. But now, my dear brother, foras|much as I understand by your words, which I have but su|perficially seen, that we thoroughly agree and wholly con|sent together in those things which are the grounds and substantial points of our religion, against which the world so furiously rageth in these our days, howsoever in time past by certain bye-matters and circumstances of religion, your wisdom and my simplicity (I grant) hath a little jarred, each of us following the abundance of his own sense and judg|ment; now, I say, be you assured, that even with 〈◊〉〈◊〉 whole heart, God is my witness▪ in the bowels of Christ I love you in the truth and for the truth's sake, which abideth in us, and, as I am persuaded, shall by the grace of God, abide in us for evermore.

AND because the world, as I perceive, brother, ceaseth not to play his pageant, and busily conspireth against Christ our Saviour, with all possible force and power, exalting high things against the knowledge of God; let us join hands together in Christ, and, if we cannot overthrow, yet to our power, and as much as in us lieth, let us shake those high altitudes, not with carnal, but with spiritual weapons; and with••l, brother, let us prepare ourselves to the day of our dissolution, by the which, after the short time of this bodily affliction, by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ we shall triumph together with him in eternal glory.

I pray you, brother, salute in my name your reverend fellow prisoner, and venerable father, D. C. by whom, since the first day that I heard of his most godly and fatherly con|stancy, in confessing the truth of the gospel, I have con|ceived great consolation and joy in the Lord. For the in|tegrity and uprightness of that man, his gravity and inno|cency, all England, I think, hath known long ago. Bles|sed be God therefore, which in such abundance of iniquity and decay of all godliness, hath given unto us, in this re|verend old age, such a witness for the truth of his gospel. Miserable and hard-hearted is he, whom the godliness and constant confession of so worthy, so grave, and innocent a man, will not move to acknowledge and confess the truth of God.

I do not now, brother, require you to write any thing to me again: for I stand much in fear, lest your letters should be intercepted before they can come to my hands. Ne|vertheless know you, that it shall be to me great joy to hear of your constancy and fortitude in the Lord's quarrel. And albeit I have not hitherto written unto you, yet have I twice, as I could, sent unto you my mind touching the matter which in your letters you required to know. Nei|ther can I yet, brother, be otherwise persuaded: I see me|thinks so many perils, whereby I am earnestly moved to counsel you not to hasten the publishing of your works, especially under the title of your own name. For I fear greatly, lest by this occasion both your mouth should be stopped hereafter, and all things taken from the rest of the prisoners, whereby otherwise, if it so please God, they may be able to do good to many. Farewel in the Lord, my most dear brother; and if there be any more in prison with you for Christ's sake, I beseech you, as you may, salute them in my name. To whose prayers I do most humbly and heartily commend myself and my fellow-prisoners and concaptives in the Lord, and yet once again, and for ever in Christ, my most dear brother, farewel.

N. RIDLEY.

AFTER this discord, and not a little vexation about vestures, at length, Mr. Hooper entering into his diocese, did there employ his time which the Lord lent him under king Edward's reign, with such di|ligence, as may be a spectacle to all bishops who shall ever hereafter succeed him, not only in that place, but in whatsoever diocese through the whole realm of England: so careful was he in his cure, that he left neither pains untaken, nor ways un|sought, how to train up the flock of Christ in the true word of salvation, continually labouring in the same. Other men commonly are wont, for lucre or promotion's sake, to aspire to bishoprics, some hunting for them, and some purchasing or buying them, as men use to purchase lordships; and when they have them, are loth to leave them, and thereupon also loth to commit that thing by world|ly laws, whereby to lose them.

TO this so•••• of men, Dr. Hoop••r w•••• quite con|trary, who abhorred nothing more 〈…〉〈…〉, labour|ing always to sa••e and ••••eserve the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of his flock; who, being bishop 〈◊〉〈◊〉 two dioceses, 〈…〉〈…〉 and guided either of then and 〈…〉〈…〉 though he had in charge but one fa••ily 〈…〉〈…〉 his houshold, no gardener in his garden, nor husband|man in his vineyard, was more or better occupied, than he in his diocese amongst his flock, going a|bout his towns and villages in teaching and preach|ing to the people there. The time that he had to spare from preaching, he bestowed either in hear|ing public causes, or else in private study, prayer, and visiting of schools: with his continual doctrine he adjoined due and discreet correction, not so much severe to any, as to those who for abundance of riches and wealthy state, thought they might do what they pleased. And doubtless he spared no kind of people, but was indifferent to all, as well rich as poor, to the great shame of many in th••se days; whereof we see so many addicted to the

pleasing of the great and rich, that in the mean time they have no regard to the meaner sort, whom Christ hath bought as dearly as the other. But to return to Dr. Hooper, whose life was such, that ••o the church and all churchmen, it might be a light and example, to the rest a perpetual les|son and sermon. Finally, how virtuous and good a bishop he was, you may conceive and know evi|dently by this, that even as he was hated by none but of them who were evil, yet the worst of them all could not reprove his life in any one particular. Nor was this good bishop less exemplary in his private, than in his public character. At home, in his domestic concerns, he exhibited an example of a worthy prelate's life; for he bestowed the most part of his care upon the flock and congrega|tion of Chri••t, for which also he spent his blood: yet nevertheless there was nothing wanting in him, ••o bring up his own children in learning and good manners; insomuch that it is difficult to say, whe|th•••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 deserved m••••e praise for his fatherly usage at ••ome, or for his public conduct abroad. For every-where he kept one religion in one uniform doctrine and integrity. So that if you entered in|to the bishop's pa••••ce, you would suppose yourself to have entered into some church or temple. In every corner thereof there was the beauty of virtue, good example, honest conversation, and reading of the holy scriptures. There was not to be seen in his house any courtly rioting or idleness; no pomp, no dishonest word, no swearing, could there be heard. As to the revenues of both his bishop|ri••s, if any thing surmounted thereof, he saved nothing, but bestowed it in hospitality. Twice I was (says Mr. Fox) in his house in Worcester, where, in his common-hall, •• saw a table spread with good store of meat, and beset full of beggars and poor people: and I asking his servants what this meant, they told me, that every day their lord and master's manner was, to have at dinner a certain number of the poor of said city by course, who were served by four at a mess, with whole|some me••ts: and when they were served, (being before examined by him or his deputies, of the Lord's prayer, and the articles of their faith, and ten commandments) then he himself sat down to dinner, and not before. In this manner Dr. Hoo|per executed the office of a most careful and vigi|••••••t pastor, for the space of two years and more, so long as the state of religion in king Edward•• time did safely flourish and take place: and would to God th•••• all other bishops would use the like dili|gence, care, and observance in their function. After this, in the reign of queen Mary, religion being subverted and changed, this good bishop was one of the first who was sent for by a pursui|vant to be at London; and that for two causes:

FIRST, To answer to Dr. Heath, then appoint|ted bishop of that diocese, who was deprived there|of in king Edward's days, for being a papist.

SECONDLY, To render an account to Dr. Bon|ner, bishop of London, for that he in king Edward's time was one of his accusers, in that he shewed himself not conformable to such ordinances as were prescribed to him by the king and his council, openly at St. Paul's Cross. And although the said bishop Hooper was not ignorant of the evils which should happen towards him, (for he was admonished by certain of his friends to get away, and shift for himself) yet he would not pre|vent them, but tarried still, saying, "Once did I flee, and take me to my feet; but now, because I am called to this place and vocation, I am tho|roughly persuaded to tarry, and to live and die with my sheep."

WHEN at the day of his appearance, the 〈…〉〈…〉 September, he was come to London, before he could see Dr. Heath and Dr. Bonner, he was intercepted, and commanded, violently, against his will, to appear before the queen and her coun|cil, to answer to certain bonds and obligations, wherein they said he was bound unto her. And when he came before them, Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, received him very opprobriously, rail|ing, and rating of him, and accused him of his re|ligion. He again freely and boldly answered, and cleared himself. But he was commanded to ward, (it being declared unto him at his departure, that the cause of his imprisonment was only for certain sums of money, for which he was indebted to the queen, and not for religion). This, how false and untrue it was, shall in its place mo••e plainly appear.

THE next year, being March 19, 1554, he was

called again to appear before Winchester, and o|thers of the queen's commissioners: where, what for the bishop, and what for the unruly multitude, when he could not be permitted to plead his cause, he was deprived of his bishoprics. Which how, and in what order it was done, may here be seen from the testimony and report of one, who being present at the doing, committed the same to wri|ting.

The REPORT of a PERSON of good credit, declaring the cause of depriving DR. JOHN HOOPER, Bi|shop of GLOUCESTER and WORCESTER, of his Bishoprics, March 19, 1554.

FORASMUCH as a rumour in spread abroad of the conversation at my lord chancellor's, between him with other commissioners there ap|pointed, and Dr. Hooper, quite contrary to the truth, and therefore to be judged rather to be risen of malice, for the discrediting of the truth by false suggestions and evil reports, than otherwise: I thought it my duty, being present thereat myself, in writing to set forth the whole effect of the same; partly that the verity thereof may be known to doubtful people; and partly also to advertise them, how uncharitably Dr. Hooper was handled at their hands, who with all humility used himself towards them, desiring, that with patience he might have been permitted to speak: so that had I been in a doubt, which of these two religions to have credit|ed, either that set forth by the king's majesty that is dead, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 else that now maintained by the queen's maje••••y▪ their irreverent behaviour towards Dr. Hooper, would have moved ••e more to credit his doctr••••e, than that which they with railing and cruel word•• defended, considering that Christ was so handled before. And that this which I have written here▪ was the effect of their discourse, as I acknowledge it to be true myself, so I appeal to all the hearers' consciences who were then present (so they put affection away) for the witness of the same.

The FIRST EXAMINATION of Bishop HOOPER, before the Bishops of WINCHESTER, LONDON, DURHAM, LANDA••F, and CHICHESTER, who were appointed Commissioners; according to the Report of the above-mentioned good man.

AT Dr. Hooper's coming in, the lord chan|cellor asked whether he was married.

HOOPER.

Yes, my lord, and will not be un|married, till death unmarry me.

DURHAM.

That is matter enough to deprive you.

HOOPER.

It is not, my lord, except you do against the law.

THE matter concerning marriage was no more talked of then for some time: but as well the commissioners, as such as stood by, began to make such outcries, and laughed, and used such gestures as were unseemly for the place, and for such a mat|ter. Dr. Day, bishop of Chichester, called bishop Hooper hypocrite, with vehement words, and scornful countenance. Bishop Tonstall called him beast; so did Smith, one of the clerks of the council, and several others that stood by. At length the bishop of Winchester said, that all m••n might live chaste who would, and brought in this text, "There are those that have become 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for the kingdom of heaven," Matt. xix.12.

BISHOP HOOPER said, that text proved not that all men could live chaste, but such to whom it was given; and read the context that goeth before. But there was a clamour and cry, mocking and scorning, with calling him beast, that the text could not be examined. Then bishop Hooper said, that it did appear by the old canons, that marriage was not forbidden unto priests, and named the de|crees. But the bishop of Winchester sent for ano|ther part, namely, the Clementines, or the Extra|vagants▪ But bishop Hooper said, that book was not i•• which he named.

THE bishop of Winchester replied, You shall not have any other, until you be judged by this. And then began such a noise, tumult, and sp••••k|ing together of a great many that favoured not the cause, that nothing was done or spoke orderly or charitably. Afterwards, judge Morgan began to rail at bishop Hooper a long time, with many opprobrious and foul words of his doing at Glouce|ster, in punishing of men, and said, there was never such a tyrant as he was. After that, Dr. Day, bishop of Chichester said, that the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Ancyra, which was before the council of Nice, was against the marriage of priests.

UPON which the lord chancellor cried out, and many with him, that bishop Hooper had never read the councils.

YES, my lord, said he, and my lord of Chiche|ster, Dr Day, knoweth, that the great council of Nice, by the means of one Paphnutius, decreed, That no minister should be separated from his wife. But such clamours and cries were used, that the Nice was not attended to.

AFTER long brutish talk, Tonstall, bishop of Durham, asked bishop Hooper, whether he be|lieved the corporal presence of the sacrament? Who said plainly, that there was none such, nei|ther of the council did he believe any such thing.

THEN the bishop of Durham would have read out of a book, (what book it was I cannot tell) but there was such a noise and confused talk on ev••ry side, that he did not read. Then the bishop of Winchester asked Dr. Hooper, What authority moved him not to believe the corporal presence? He said, the authority of God's word, and al|ledged this text, "Whom heaven must hold until the latter day." But the bishop of Winchester would have made that text to serve nothing for his purpose, and said, he might be in heaven, and in the sacrament also.

DR. HOOPER would have opened the text, but all those that stood next about the bishop prevented his speaking with clamours and cries, so that Dr. Hooper was not permitted to say any thing against the bishop. Whereupon they bade the notaries write, That he was married, and said, that he would not go from his wife; and that he believed not in the corporal presence in the sacrament; wherefore he was worthy to be deprived of his bishopric.

THIS is the truth of the matter (as far as I can re|member) of the confused and troublesome conver|sation between them, and except hasty and unchari|table words, it is the whole of their discourse at that time.

An ACCOUNT of the severe TREATMENT of Bi|shop HOOPER, during near eighteen months con|finement in the FLEET, written with his own hand, January 7, 1554.

THE first of September 1553, I was committed unto the Fleet, from Richmond, to have the liberty of the prison; and within six days after I paid five pounds sterling to the warden for fees, for my liberty; who imme|diately upon payment thereof, complained unto Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, and so I was committed to close prison one quarter of a year in the Tower-chamber of the Fleet, and used extremely ill. Then by the means of a good gentlewoman, I had liberty to come down to dinner and supper, not suffered to speak with any of my friends: but as soon as dinner and supper were done, to repair to my chamber again. Notwithstanding, whilst I came down thus to dinner and supper, the warden and his wife picked quarrels with me, and complained untruly of me to their great friend the bishop of Winchester.

AFTER one quarter of a year and somewhat more, ••a••ing|ton the warden and his wife, fell out with 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for the wick••d mass: and thereupon the warden refor•••• to the bis•••••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Winchester, and obtained to put me into the wards where I have continued a long time, having nothing appointed to me for my bed, but a little p••d of straw and a rotten cover|ing, with a tick and a few f••••thers therein, the chamber being vile and stinking, until by God's means good people sent me bedding to lie on. On one side of which prison, is the sink and filth of the house, and on the other the town ditch, so that the stench of the house hath infected me with sundry diseases.

DURING wh••ch time I have been sick, and the doors, bars, hasp••, and chains being all closed, and made fast up|on me, I have mourned, called and cried for help; but the warden when he hath known me many times ready to die, and when the poor men of the wards have called to help me, hath commanded the doors to be kept fast, and charg|ed that none of his men should come at me, saying, Let him alone, it were a good riddance of him. And, amongst many other times, he did thus October 18, 1553▪ as many can witness.

I paid always like a baron to the said warden, as well in fees, as for my board, which was twenty shillings a weak, besides my man's table, until I was wrongfully deprived of my bishoprics, and since that time, I have paid him as the best gentlemen doth in his house; yet hath he used me worse, and more vilely, than the veriest slave that ever came to the hall commons, (common side of the prison).

THE said warden hath also imprisoned my man, Wil|liam Downton, and stripped him out of his clothes to search for letters, and could find none, but only a little remem|brance of good people's names, that gave me their aims to relieve me in prison; and to undo them also, the warden

delivered the same bill unto the said Stephen Gardiner, God's enemy and mine.

I have suffered imprisonment almost eighteen months, my goods, my livings, friends, and comfort taken from me; the queen owing me, by just account, fourscore pounds or more. She hath put me in prison, and giveth no|thing to keep me, neither is there suffered any one to come at me, whereby I might have relief. I am with a wicked man and woman, so that I see no remedy (saving God's help, but I shall be cast away in prison before I come to judgment. But I commit my just cause to God, whose will be done, whether it be by life or death,

Second Examination of Dr. JOHN HOOPER, Bishop of Gloucester and Worcester, before the intolerant GAR|DINER, Bishop of Winchester.

THE twenty-second of January, 1555▪ Babing|ton, the warden of the Fleet, was command|ed to bring Mr. Hooper before the bishop of Win|chester, with other bishops and commissioners at the said Winchester's house, at St. Mary Overy's: where the bishop of Winchester, in the name of himself and the rest, moved Mr. Hooper earnestly to forsake the evil and corrupt doctrine (as he term|ed it) preached in the days of king Edward the sixth, and to return to the unity of the catholic church, and to acknowledge the pope's holiness to be head of the same church, according to the deter|mination of the whole parliament, promising, that as he himself, with other his brethren, had received the pope's blessing, and the queen's mercy; even so mercy was ready to be shewed to him and others, if he would arise with them, and condescend to the pope's holiness.

BISHOP HOOPER answered, That forasmuch as the pope taught doctrines altogether contrary to those of Christ, he was not worthy to be accounted as a member of his church, much less to be head thereof; wherefore he would in no wise condescend to any such usurped jurisdiction, neither esteemed he the church, whereof they call him head, to be the catholic church of Christ: for the church only heareth the voice of her spouse Christ, and flieth strangers. Howbeit (saith he) if in any point to me unknown, I have offended the queen's majesty, I shall most humbly submit myself to her mercy, if mercy may be had with safety of conscience, and without the displeasure of God.

ANSWER was made, that the queen would shew no mercy to the pope's enemies. Whereupon Ba|bington was commanded to carry him to the Fleet again: who did so, and shifted him from his for|mer chamber into another, near to the warden's own chamber, where he remained six days: and in the mean time his former chamber was searched by Dr. Martin and others, for writings and books, which Dr. Hooper was thought to have wrote, but none was found.

Third Examination of Bishop HOOPER, before the Bishop of Winchester, and other Commissioners.

JANUARY 28th, the bishop of Winchester, and other commissioners sat in judgment at St. Ma|ry Overy's, where bishop Hooper appeared before them in the afternoon, and there, after much rea|soning and disputation, he was commanded aside, till the Rev. Mr. Rogers (who was then come) had been likewise examined. Examinations being end|ed, the two sheriffs of London were commanded, about four o'clock, to carry them to the Compter in Southwark, there to remain till to-morrow at nine o'clock, to see whether they would relent and come home again to the catholic church. So bishop Hooper went before, with one of the sheriffs, and Mr. Rogers came after with the other; and being out of the church door, Dr. Hooper looked back, and stayed a little till Mr. Rogers drew near, unto whom he said, Come brother Rogers, must we two take this matter first in hand, and begin to fry these faggots? Yes, sir, said Mr. Rogers, by God's grace. Doubt not, said Dr. Hooper, but God will give strength. So going forwards, there was such a press of people in the streets, who rejoiced at their constancy, that they had much ado to pass.

BY the way, the sheriff said to the bishop, I won|der you was so hasty and quick with my lord chan|cellor, and did use no more patience: he answered, Mr. Sheriff, I was nothing at all impatient, although I was earnest in my master's cause, and it standeth me so in hand, for it goeth upon life and death, not the life and death of this world only, but also of the

world to come. Then they were committed to the keeper of the Compter, and appointed to separate chambers, with command that they should not be suffered to speak one with another, neither any other permitted to come to them that night.

UPON the next day following, January 29, at the hour appointed, they were brought again by the sheriffs before the said bishop and commissioners in the church, where they were the day before. And after long and earnest talk, when they perceived bishop Hooper would by no means condescend unto them, they condemned him to be degraded, and read unto him his condemnation. That done, the Rev. Mr. Rogers was brought before them, and treated in like manner; and both were delivered to the secular power, the two sheriffs of London, who were ordered to carry them to the Clink, a prison not far from the bishop of Winchester's house, and there to remain till night.

WHEN it was dark, bishop Hooper was led by one of the sheriffs, with many bills and weapons, through the bishop of Winchester's house, and over London-bridge, through the city to Newgate, and by the way some of the serjeants were sent before, to put out the costermongers' candles, who used to sit with lights in the streets: either fearing, that the people would have made some attempt to have taken him away from them by force, if they had seen him go to that prison; or else, being burdened with an evil conscience, they thought darkness to be a most fit season for such a business.

BUT notwithstanding this device, the people hav|ing some foreknowledge of his coming, many of them came forth to their doors with lights, and sa|luted him, praising God for his constancy in the true doctrine which he had taught them, and desiring God to strengthen him in the same to the end. The bishop required the people to make their earnest prayers to God for him, and so went through Cheap|side to the place appointed, and was delivered as close prisoner to the keeper of Newgate, where he remained six days, nobody being permitted to come to him, or talk with him, saving his keepers, and such as should be appointed thereto.

DURING this time, Bonner, bishop of London, and others at his appointment, as Fecknam, Ched|sey, Harpsfield, &c. resorted several times unto him, to try if, by any means, they could persuade him to relent, and become a member of their antichristian church. All the ways they could devise, they at|tempted. For, besides the disputations and allega|tions of testimonies of the scriptures, and of ancient writers wrested to a wrong sense, according to their accustomed manner; they used also all outward gentleness and significations of friendship, with many great promises of worldly wealth; not omit|ting also most grievous threatenings, if with gentle|ness they could not prevail; but they found him always the same man, stedfast and immoveable. When they perceived that they could by no means reclaim him to their purpose, with such persuasions and offers as they used for his conversion, then went they by false rumours and reports of recantations (for it is well known that they and their servants did first spread it abroad) to bring him, and the doctrine of Christ which he professed, in discredit with the peo|ple. Which being thus spread abroad, and believed by some of the weaker sort, by reason of the often resort of the bishop of London and others, it in|creased more, and at last came to bishop Hooper's ears, who was greatly grieved thereat, that the peo|ple should give credit to such false rumours, having so simple a ground; as may appear by the following letter, which he wrote upon that occasion.

A LETTER, From Bishop HOOPER, concerning false Rumours spread abroad of his Recantation.

THE grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with all them, who unfeignedly look for the coming of our Saviour Christ. Amen.

DEAR brethren and sisters in the Lord, and my fellow-prisoners for the cause of God's gospel, I do much rejoice and give thanks unto God for your constancy and perseve|rance in afflictions, unto whom I wish continuance unto the end. And as I do rejoice in your faith and constancy in afflictions that be in prison; even so do I mourn and lament to hear of our dear brethren that yet have not felt such dan|gers for God's truth, as we have and do feel, and are daily likely to suffer more, yea, the very extreme and vile death

of the fire: yet such is the report abroad, (as I am credibly informed) that I John Hooper, a condemned man for the cause of Christ, should now after sentence of death, (being prisoner in Newgate, and looking daily for execution) re|cant and abjure that which heretofore I have preached. And this talk ariseth from this, that the bishop of London and his chaplains resort unto me. Doubtless, if our brethren were as godly as I could wish them, they would think, that in case I did refuse to talk with them, they might have just occasion to say that I was unlearned, and durst not speak with learned men, or else proud and disdained to speak with them. Therefore to avoid just suspicion of both, I have, and do daily speak with them when they come, not doubting but they report that I am neither proud nor unlearned. And I would wish all men to do as I do in this point. For I fear not their arguments, neither is death terrible unto me, praying you to make true report of the same, as occa|sion shall serve; and that I am more confirmed in the truth which I have heretofore preached by their coming.

THEREFORE, you that may send to the weak brethren, pray them that they trouble me not with such reports of recantations as they do. For I have hitherto left all things of the world, and suffered great pains and imprisonment, and I thank God I am as ready to suffer death, as a mortal man can be. It were better for them to pray for us, than to credit or report such rumours that are untrue. We have enemies enough of such as know not God truly. But yet the false report of weak brethren is a double cross. I wish you eternal salvation in Jesus Christ, and also require your continual prayers, that he which hath begun in us, may con|tinue it to the end.

I have taught the truth with my tongue, and with my pen heretofore, and hereafter shortly shall confirm the same by God's grace with my blood. From Newgate, Febr. 2, 1555.

Your brother in Christ, JOHN HOOPER.

MONDAY morning, Bonner, bishop of London, came to Newgate, and degraded bishop Hooper; the sentence of his degradation here followeth.

The Degradation of Dr. HOOPER, Bishop of Gloucester and Worcester.

IN the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen. Whereas by a definitive sentence from the reverend father in Christ, Stephen, by divine permission, lord bishop of Winchester, against you John Hooper, pres|byter of his jurisdiction, on account of heresy and offence notoriously committed within his diocese of Winchester, and of late j••stly and legally proved; it plainly appears to us, Edmund, bishop of London, that you the aforesaid J••hn Hooper have been and still continue to be an open, obsti|nate, and incorrigible heretic; and it also appears by the aforesaid sentence, that you have been declared and pronoun|ced an heretic of this sort, and have likewise incurred the sentence of the greater excommunication; and it plainly and fully appears that you are to be deposed and degraded from your order, and for these your demerits are to be deli|vered to the secular power, according to the tenor of the aforesaid sentence, to which we refer ourselves in this affair. We therefore, the aforesaid Edmund, bishop of London, as it concerns us and the university to do our alternate endea|vours, in whose diocese you John Hooper have committed the same heresy then, and often times both before and after; for these, I say, and the aforesaid considerations, and that we may execute the aforesaid sentence in a better and more effica|cious manner, have thought fit to proceed to the actual de|gradation of you the aforesaid John Hooper, (your crime and justice so requiring) and so we do really proceed accord|ing to the direction of the law, and the laudable custom of former times, that we may rightly and legally ••eliver you to the secular power, who are unwilling to continue in the pale of the church; and that this ought to be done, we do by these presents declare and pronounce in this our sen|tence.

AFTER the sentence of degradation thus declared, now let us see the form and manner of their degrading, which here also followeth. But first is to be no••ed, that they, degrading this blessed bishop, did not pro|ceed against him as a bishop, but only as against a priest, as they termed him: for such as he was, these Baalamites accounted no bishop.

The Form and Manner of the said Degradation.

THE fourth day of February, the year abovementioned, in the chapel of Newgate, Gardiner, bishop of Lon|don, there sitting with his notary and several other witnesses, Alexander Andrew the gaoler came in, bringing with him bishop Hooper and the Rev. Mr. Rogers, being condemn|ed before by the lord chancellor, where the said bishop of London, at the request of the bishop of Winchester, pro|ceeded to the degradation of Mr. Hooper and Mr. Rogers, after this form and manner: first, he put upon him all the vestures and ornaments belonging to a priest, with all other things to the same order apper••aining, as though (being re|vested) they should solemnly execute their office. They b••ing thus apparelled and revested, the bishop beginneth to pluck off, first the outermost vesture, and so by degree and order coming down to the lowest vesture, which they had only in taking Benet and Collet; and so being stript and deposed, he deprived them of all order, benefit, and privilege belonging to the clergy; and consequently that being done, pronounced, decreed, and declared that the said parties so d••gr••ded, to be given personally to the secular power▪ as the

sheriffs being for that year, Mr. David Woodrooffe, and Mr. William Chester; who receiving first the Rev. Mr. Rogers at the hands of the bishop, had him away with them, bringing him to the place of execution where he suffered. The witnesses there present were Mr. Harpsfield, archdeacon of London, Robert Cosin, and Robert Willerton, canons St. Paul's, Thomas Montague, and George How, clerks, Tristram Swadock, and Richard Clumney, sumner, &c.

THE same Monday at night, February 4, his keeper gave the bishop a hint that he should be sent to Gloucester to suffer death, whereat he rejoiced very much, lifting up his eyes and hands unto hea|ven, and praising God that he saw it good to send him amongst the people, over whom he was pastor, there to confirm with his death the truth which he had before taught them; not doubting but the Lord would give him strength to perform the same to his glory: and immediately he sent to his servant's house for his boots, spurs, and cloak, that he might be in readiness to ride when he should be called.

THE next day following, about four o'clock in the morning, before day, the keeper with others came to him and searched him, and the bed wherein he lay, to see if he had written any thing, and then he was led by the sheriffs of London, and their offi|cers, from Newgate to a place appointed, not far from St. Dunstan's church in Fleet-street, where six of the queen's guard were appointed to receive, to carry him to Gloucester, there to be delivered unto the sheriff, who with the Lord Shandois, Mr. Wicks, and other commissioners, were appointed to see ex|ecution done. Which guard brought him to the Angel, where he brake his fast with them, eating his meat at that time more liberal than he had used to do a good while before. About break of day he leaped chearfully on horseback without help, having a hood upon his head, under his hat, that he should not be known, and so he took his journey joyfully towards Gloucester; and by the way the guard in|quired of him, where he was accustomed to bait or lodge, but always carried him to another inn.

ON the Thursday following, he came to a town in his diocese called Cirencester, 15 miles from Gloucester, about eleven o'clock, and there dined at a woman's house who had always hated the truth, and spoken all the evil she could of bishop Hooper. This woman, perceiving the cause of his coming, shewed him all the friendship she could, and lament|ed his case with tears, confessing that she before had often reported, that if he were put to the trial, he would not stand to his doctrine.

AFTER dinner he rode forwards, and came to Gloucester about five o'clock, and a mile without the town was much people assembled, who cried and lamented his state; insomuch that one of the guard rode post into the town, to require aid of the mayor and sheriffs, fearing lest he should have been taken from them. The officers and their retinue repaired to the gate with weapons, and commanded the people to keep their houses, &c. but there was no man that once gave any signification of a rescue or violence. He lodged at one Ingram's house in Gloucester, and that night (as he had done all the way) he did eat his meat quietly, and slept his first sleep soundly, as it was reported by the guard and others. After his first sleep, he continued in prayer until morning; and all the day, except a little time at meals, and when conversing with such as the guard permitted to speak to him, he spent in prayer.

SIR Anthony Kingston, at one time Dr. Hooper's good friend, was appointed by the queen's letters to attend at his execution. As soon as he saw the bishop, he burst into tears. At first sight, Dr. Hooper did not know him; the knight therefore addressing the bishop, said, "Why, my lord, do you not know me, an old friend of your's, Anthony Kingston?"

YES, sir Anthony Kingston, I do know you well, and am glad to see you in health, and do praise God for the same.

B••T I am sorry to see you, my lord, in this case; for as I understand, you are come hither to die. But, alas▪ consider that life is sweet, and death is bitter. Therefore seeing life may be had, desire to live; for life hereafter may do good.

INDEED it is true Mr. Kingston, I am come hithe•• to end this life, and to suffer death here, because I will not gainsay the truth that I have heretofore

taught amongst you in this diocese, and elsewhere; and I thank you for your friendly counsel, although it be not so friendly as I could have wished it. True it is, that death is bitter, and life is sweet: but, alas! consider that the death to come is more bit|ter, and the life to come is more sweet. Therefore for the desire and love I have to the one, and terror and fear of the other, I do not so much regard this death, nor esteem this life, but have settled myself, through the strength of God's holy Spirit, patiently to pass through the torments and extremities of the fire now prepared for me, rather than to deny the truth of his word, desiring you and others, in the mean time, to commend me to God's mercy in your prayers.

WELL, my lord, returned sir Anthony, then I perceive there is no remedy, and therefore I will take my leave of you: and I thank God that ever I knew you, for God did appoint you to call me, being a lost child: and by your good instructions, where before I was both an adulterer and a fornica|tor, God hath brought me to the forsaking and de|testing of the same.

IF you have had the grace so to do, I do highly praise God for it: and if you have not, I pray God you may have, and that you may continually live in his fear. After these and many other words, they took leave of each other, Mr. Kingston with bitter tears, Dr. Hooper with tears also trickling down his cheeks. At his departure, bishop Hooper told him, that all the troubles he had sustained in prison, had not caused him to utter so much sorrow.

THE same day in the afternoon, a blind boy, after long intercession made to the guard, obtained leave to be brought into Dr. Hooper's presence. The same boy not long before had suffered imprisonment at Gloucester for confessing of the truth. Dr. Hooper, after he had examined him of his faith, and the cause of his imprisonment, beheld him stedfastly, and (the water appearing in his eyes) said unto him, "Ah! poor boy, God hath taken from thee thy outward sight, for what reason he best knoweth: but he hath given thee another sight much more precious, for he hath endued thy soul with the eye of knowledge and faith. God give thee grace conti••nually to pray unto him, that thou lose not that sight, for then wouldst thou be blind both in body an soul."

AFTER him another came, whom the bishop knew to be a papist, and a wicked man, who appeared to be sorry for Dr. Hooper's troubles, saying, Sir, I am sorry to see you thus. To see me! Why art thou sorry? To see you (said the other) in this case▪ for I hear say, you are come hither to die. Be sor|ry for thyself, man, (said Dr. Hooper) and lament thine own wickedness; for I am well, I thank God, and death to me, for Christ's sake, is welcome.

THE same night the bishop was committed by the guard, (their commission being then expired) into the custody of the sheriffs of Gloucester, Jen|kins and Bond, who, with the mayor and alder|men, repaired to Dr. Hooper's lodging, and at the first meeting saluted him, and took him by the hand. Unto whom Dr. Hooper spake in this manner. "Mr. Mayor, I give most hearty thanks to you, and to the rest of your brethren, that you have vouchsafed to take me, a prisoner, and a con|demned man, by the hand; whereby, to my rejoi|cing, it is very apparent that your old love and friendship towards me is not altogether extinguish|ed: and I trust also that all the things I have taught you in times past, are not utterly forgotten, when I was your bishop and pastor. For which most true and sincere doctrine, because I will not now account it falshood and heresy, as many other men do, I am sent hither (as I am sure you know) by the queen's commands, to die, and am come where I taught it, to confirm it with my blood. And now, Mess. Sheriffs, I understand by these good men, and my good friends (meaning the guard) at whose hands I have found so much favour and gentleness on the road hither, as a prisoner could reasonably require, (for which also I most heartily thank them) that I am committed to your custody, as unto them that must see me brought to-morrow to the place of execution. My request therefore to you shall be only, that there may be a quick fire, shortly to make an end; and in the mean time I will be as obedient unto you, as you yourselves could wish. If you think I do amiss in any thing, hold up your finger, and I have done. For I am not come hither as one forced or compell|ed to die; for it is well known, I might have had

my life with worldly gain; but as one willing to offer and give my life for the truth, rather than to consent to the wicked papistical religion of the bish|op of Rome, received and set forth by the magis|trates in England, to God's high displeasure and dishonour; and I trust, by God's grace, to-mor|row to die a faithful servant of God, and a true obedient subject to the queen."

THESE, and such like words in effect, bishop Hooper used to the mayor, sheriffs, and aldermen, whereat many mourned and lamented. Notwith|standing, the two sheriffs went aside to consult, and were determined to have lodged him in the common gaol of the town, called Northgate, if the guard had not made earnest intercession for him; who declared at large, how quietly, mildly, and patient|ly, he had behaved himself on the way, adding thereto, that any child might keep him well e|nough, and that they themselves would rather take pains to watch with him, than that he should be sent to the common prison. So it was determined at length he should still remain at Robert Ingram's house; and the sheriffs and the serjeants and other officers did appoint to watch with him that night themselves. His desire was, that he might go to bed that night betime, saying, that he had many things to remember: and so he did at five o'clock, and slept one sleep soundly, and spent the rest of the night in prayer. After he had got up in the mor|ning, he desired that no man should be suffered to come into the chamber, that he might be solitary till the hour of execution.

ABOUT eight o'clock came sir John Bridges, lord Shandois, with a great band of men, sir An|thony Kingston, sir Edmund Bridges, and other commissioners appointed to see execution done. At nine, Dr. Hoope•• prepared himself to be in readi|ness, for the time was at hand. Immediately he was brought down from his chamber by the sheriffs, who were accompanied with bills, and other wea|pons. When he saw the multitude of weapons, he spake to the sheriffs on this wise; Mess. She|riffs (said he) I am no traitor, neither needed you to have made such a business to bring me to the place where I must suffer: for if you had suffered me I would have gone alone to the stake, and troubled none of you. Afterwards looking on the multitude of people that were assembled, being by estimation to the number of 7000, (for it was mar|ket-day, and many came to see his behaviour) he spake unto those who were about him, saying, "Alas! why are these people assembled and come together? Peradventure they think to hear some|thing of me now, as they have in times past: but alas! speech is prohibited me. Notwithstanding, the cause of my death is well known unto them. When I was appointed here to be their pastor, I preached unto them true and sincere doc|trine, and that out of the word of God: because I will not now account the same to be heresy and untruth, this kind of death is prepared for me." Having said this, he went forward, led between two sheriffs, (as it were a lamb to the place of slaughter) in a gown of his host's, his hat upon his head, and a staff in his hand to stay himself with|al; for the grief of the Sciatica, which he had taken in prison, caused him somewhat to halt. All the way, being straitly ••harged not to speak, he could not be perceived once to open his mouth; but beholding the people, who mourned bitterly for him, he would sometimes lift up his eyes to|wards heaven, and look very chearfully upon such as he knew: and he was never known, during the time of his being amongst them, to look with so chearful and ruddy a countenance as he did at that present. When he came to the place appointed where he should die, he smilingly beheld the stake and preparation made for him, which was near unto the great elm-tree over-against the college of priests, where he was wont to preach. The place round about the houses, and the boughs of the tree were filled with spectators; and in the chamber over the college gate stood the priests of the col|lege. Then he kneeled down (forasmuch as he could not be suffered to speak unto the people) to prayer, and b••ckoned six or seven times unto one whom he well knew, that he might hear his pray|er, and report faithfully the same. When this person came to the good bishop, he (pouring tears upon his shoulders and in his bosom) continued his prayer for the space of half 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hour; which prayer was drawn from the whole creed

NOW after he was entered into his prayer, a box was brought and laid before him upon a stool, with his pardon (or at least-wise it was feigned to be his pardon) from the queen, if he would turn. At the sight whereof he cried, If you love my soul, away with it. The box being taken away, the lord Shandois said, Seeing there is no remedy, dis|patch him quickly. Mr Hooper replied, Good my lord, I trust your lordship will give me leave to make an end of my prayers.

THEN the lord Shandois said to sir Edmund Bridges' son, who gave ear before to Mr. Hooper's prayer, at his request: Edmund, take heed that he do nothing else but pray: if he do, tell me, and I shall quickly dispatch him.

IN the mean time, one or two persons, uncalled, stepped up, who heard the bishop speak the words following.

Bishop HOOPER'S PRAYER.

LORD, I am hell, but thou art heaven; I am a sink of sin, but thou art a gracious God and a merciful redeemer. Have mercy therefore upon me a most miserable and wretched offender, after thy great mercy, and accord|ing to thine inestimable goodness. Thou art ascended into heaven, receive me hence to be partaker of thy joys, where thou fittest in equal glory with thy Father. For well know|est thou, Lord, wherefore I am come hither to suffer, and why the wicked do persecute this thy poor servant; not for my sins and transgressions committed against thee, but because I will not allow their wicked doings, to the con|taminating of thy blood, and to the denial of the knowledge of thy truth, wherewith it did please thee by thy Holy Spirit to instruct me: which, with as much diligence as a poor wretch might, (being thereto called) I have set forth to thy glory. And well seest thou, my Lord and G••d, what terrible pains and cruel torments are prepared for thy creature; such, Lord, as without thy strength none is able to bear, or patiently to pass. But all things that are im|possible with man, are possible with thee. Therefore strengthen me of thy goodness, that in the fire I break not the rules of patience; or else assuage the terror of the pains, as shall seem most to thy glory.

AS soon as the mayor saw those men, who report|ed the foregoing words, they were commanded a|way, and could not be suffered to hear any more. Prayer being done, bishop Hooper prepared him|self for the stake, and put off his host's gown, and delivered it the sheriffs, requiring them to see it res|tored unto the owner, and put off the rest of his ap|parel unto his doublet and hose, wherein he would have burned. But the sheriffs would not permit that, (such was their greediness) unto whose plea|sures (good man!) he very obediently submit|ted himself; and his doublet, hose, and waistcoat were taken off. Then being in his shirt, he took a point from his hose himself, and trussed his shirt between his legs, where he had a pound of gun-pow|der in a bladder, and under each arm the like quan|tity delivered him by the guard. So desiring the people to say the Lord's prayer with him, and to pray for him, (who performed it with tears, during the time of his pains) he went up to the stake; when he was at it, three irons, made to him thereto, were brought; one for his neck, another for his middle, and the third for his legs. But he refusing them said, "You have no need thus to trouble yourselves. I doubt not, God will give me strength sufficient to abide the extremity of the fire, without bands: notwithstanding, suspecting the frailty and weakness of the flesh, but having assured confidence in God's strength, I am content you do as you shall think good."

THEN the hoop of iron prepared for his middle was brought, which being made somewhat too short, (for his belly was swoln with imprisonment) he shrank and put in his belly with his hand, until it was fastened: but when they offered to have bound his neck and legs with the other too hoops of iron, he refused them, and would have none, saying, I am well assured I shall not trouble you.

THUS being ready, he looked upon, the people, of whom he might be well seen, (for he was both tall, and stood also upon a high stool) and beheld round about him, that in every corner there was nothing to be seen but weeping and sorrowful peo|ple. Then lifting up his eyes and hands to hea|ven, he prayed in silence. By and by, he that was appointed to make the fire, came to him, and did ask him forgiveness. Of whom he asked why he should forgive him, saying, that he never knew any offence he had committed against him. O sir, said the man, I am appointed to make the fire. Therein said Mr. Hooper, thou dost nothing offend me: God forgive thee thy sins, and do thine office I pray thee.

Then the reeds were cast up, and he received two bundles of them in his own hands, embraced them, kissed them, put one of them under each arm, and shewed with his hand how the rest should be bestowed, and pointed to the place where any were wanting.

COMMAND was now given that the fire should be kindled. But because there were not fewer green faggots, than two horses could carry, it kindled not speedily, and was a pretty while also before it took the reeds upon the faggots. At length it burned about him, but the wind having full strength in that place (and being a lowring cold morning) it blew the flame from him, so that he was in a a manner little more than touched by the fire.

WITHIN a space after, a few dry faggots were brought, and a new fire kindled with faggots, (for there were no more reeds) and that burned at the nether parts, but had small power above, because of the wind, saving that it did burn in his hair, and scorch his skin a little. In the time of which fire, even as at the first flame, he prayed, saying mildly, and not very loud, (but as one without pains) O Jesus, son of David, have mercy upon me, and re|ceive my soul. After the second fire was spent, he wiped both his eyes with his hands, and beholding the people, he said with an indifferent loud voice, For God's love, good people, let me have more fire: and all this while his nether parts did burn; but the faggots were so few, that the flame did not burn strongly at his upper parts.

THE third fire was kindled within a while after, which was more extreme than the other two: and then the bladders of gun-powder brake, which did him little good, they were so placed, and the wind had such power. In this fire he prayed with a loud voice, Lord Jesus have mercy upon me! Lord Je|sus have mercy upon me! Lord Jesus receive my spirit! And these were the last words he was heard to utter. But when he was black in the mouth, and his tongue swoln, that he could not speak, yet his lips went till they were shrunk to the gums: and he knocking his breast with his hands, until one of his arms fell off, and then knocked still with the the other, while the fat, water, and blood dropped out at his finger ends, untill by renewing of the fire his strength was gone, and his hand did cleave fast in knocking to the iron upon his breast. So immediately, bowing forwards, he yielded up his spirit.

THUS was he three quarters of an hour or more in the fire; even as the lamb, patiently bearing the extremity thereof, neither moving forwards, back|wards, nor to any side; but having his neither parts burned, and his bowels fallen out, he died as quiet|ly as a child in his bed: and he now reigneth as a blessed martyr in the joys of heaven, prepared for the faithful in Christ before the foundations of the world: for whose constancy all christians are bound to praise God.

A POEM by CONRADE GESNER, on the Martyrdom of Dr. JOHN HOOPER, Bishop of GLOUCESTER and WORCESTER.

HOOPER, unvanquish'd by Rome's cruelties, (Confessing Christ in his last moments) dies: While flames his body rack, his soul doth fly, Inflam'd with faith, to immortality: His constancy on earth has rais'd his name, And gave him entrance at the gates of fame, Which neither storms, nor the cold north-winds blast, Nor all-devouring time shall ever waste: For he whom God protects shall sure attain That happiness, which worldlings seek in vain. Example take by him, you who profess Christ's holy doctrines; ne'er the world caress In hopes of riches▪ or if fortune frown With inauspicious looks, he not cast down▪ For man ne'er saw, nor can his heart conceive, What God bestows on them that righteous live.

LETTER I. From Bishop HOOPER, when in Prison, to some of his Friends.

THE grace of God be with you, Amen. I did write unto you of late, and told you what extremity the parliament had concluded concerning religion, suppressing the truth, and setting forth the untruth, intending to cau•••• all men by extremity to forswear themselves, and to take again, for the head of the church, him that is neither head nor member of it, but a very enemy, as th•• word of Go•• and all ancient writers do record: and for lack of law and

authority, they will use force and extremity, which have been the arguments to defend the pope and popery, since their authority first began in the world. But now is the time of trial, to see whether we fear more God or man. It was an easy thing to hold with Christ whilst the prince and world held with him: but now the world hateth him, it is the true trial who be his.

WHEREFORE in the name, and in the virtue, strength, and power of his Holy Spirit, prepare yourselves in any case to adversity and constancy. Let u•• not run away when it is most time to fight; remember none shall be crowned, but such as fight manfully; and he that endureth to the end shall be saved. Ye must now turn all your thoughts from the peril you see, and mark the felicity that followeth the peril; either victory in this world of your enemies, or else a sur|render of this life to inherit the everlasting kingdom. Be|ware of beholding too much the felicity or misery of this world, for the consideration and too earnest love or fear of either of them draweth from God.

WHEREFORE think with yourselves as touching the feli|city of this world, it is good; but yet no otherwise than as it standeth with the favour of God. It is to be kept; but yet so far forth as by keeping of it we lose not God. It is go•••• abiding and tarrying still among our friends here; but yet so, that we tarry not therewithal in God's displeasure, and hereafter dwell with the devils in fire everlasting. There is nothing under God but may be kept, so that God, being above all things we have, be not lost.

OF adversity judge the same. Imprisonment is painful, but yet liberty upon evil conditions is more painful. The prisons stink; but yet not so much as sweet houses, where the fear and true honour of God is wanting. I must be a|lone and solitary: it is better so to be and have God with me, than to be in company with the wicked. Loss of goods is great: but loss of God's grace and favour is great|er. I am a poor simple creature, and cannot tell how to an|swer before noble, learned, and wise men: it is better to make answer before the pomp and pride of wicked men, than to stand naked in the sight of all heaven and earth before the just God at the latter day. I shall die then by the hands of the cruel man: he is blessed that loseth his life full of miseries, and findeth the life of eternal joys. It is pain and grief to depart from goods and friends: but yet not so much, as to depart from grace and heaven itself. Wherefore there is neither felicity nor adversity of this world, that can appear to be great, if it be weighed with the joys or pains in the world to come.

I can do no more, but pray for you; do the same for me, for God's sake. For my part, (I thank the heavenly Father) I have made mine accounts, and appointed myself unto his will; and as he will, so I will by his grace. For God's sake, as soon as ye can, send my poor wife and children some letter from you, and my letter also which I sent of late to D. As it was told me she never had a letter from me since the coming of M. S. unto her, the more to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the messengers, for I have written divers times. The Lord comfort them, and provide for them; for I 〈…〉〈…〉 do nothing in worldly things. She is a godly and wise wo|man. If my meaning had been accomplished, she should have had necessary things: but what I meant. God can per|form, to whom I commend both her and you all. I am a precious jewel now being close and daintily kept: for nei|ther mine own man, nor any of the servants of the house may come to me, but my keeper alone, a simple rude man, God knoweth; but I am nothing careful thereof. Fare you well.

January 21, 1555.

Your bounden, JOHN HOOPER.

LETTER II. From the same to certain GODLY PROFESSORS, instruct|ing them how to behave in the time of Trial, under a woful alteration and change of RELIGION.

THE grace, mercy, and peace of God the Father through our Lord Jesus Christ, be with you, my dear brethren, and with all those that unfeignedly love and em|brace his holy gospel, Amen.

IT is told me, that the wicked idol, the mass, is establish|ed again by law, and passed in the parliament-house. Learn the truth of it, I pray you, and what penalty is appointed in the act to such as speak against it: also whether there be any compulsion to constrain men to be at it. The statute thoroughly known, such as be abroad and at liberty may provide for themselves, and avoid the danger the better. Doubtless there hath not been seen before our time such a parliament as this is, that as many as were suspected to be favourers of God's word, should be banished out of both houses. But we must give God thanks for that truth he hath opened in the time of his blessed servant king Edward VI. and pray unto him that we deny it not, nor dishonour it with idolatry; but that we may have strength and patience rather to die ten times than deny him once. Blessed shall we be, if ever God makes us worthy of that honour to shed our blood for his name's sake: and blessed then sh••••l we think the parents which brought us into the world, that we should from this mortality be carried into immortality. If we follow the command of St. Paul, that saith, "If ye then be risen again with Christ, seek those things which are a|bove, where Christ sitteth at the right hand of God;" we shall neither depart from the vain transitory goods of this world, nor from this wretched and mortal life, with so great pain as others do.

LET us pray to our heavenly Father, that we may know and love his blessed will, and the glorious joy prepared for us in time to come, and that we may know and hate all things contrary to his blessed will, and also the pain prepar|ed for the wicked in the world to come. There is no bet|ter way to be used in this troublesome time for your consola|tion, than many times to have assemblies together of such men and women as be of your religion in Christ, and there to take and renew amongst yourselves the truth of your re|ligion, to see what you are by the word of God, and to re|member what you were before you came to the knowledge thereof, to weigh and confer the dreams and false lies of the preachers that now preach, with the word of God that retaineth all truth; and by such talk and familiar resorting together, you shall the better find out all their lies that now go about to deceive you, and also both know and love the truth that God hath opened unto us. It is much requisite that the members of Christ comfort one another, make prayers together, confer one with another; so shall you be the stronger, and God's Spirit shall not be absent from you, but in the midst of you, to teach you, to comfort you, to make you wise in all godly things, patient in adversity, and strong in persecution.

YOU 〈◊〉〈◊〉 how the congregation of the wicked, by helping one another, make their wicked religion and themselves strong against God's truth and his people. If you may have some learned man, that can out of the scripture speak unto you of faith, and true honouring of God, also that can shew you the descent of Christ's church from the beginning of it until this day, that you may perceive by the life of our fore-fathers these two things: the one that Christ's words, who said that all his must suffer persecution and trouble in the world, be true: the othe••, that none of all his, before our time, escaped trouble: then shall you perceive, that it is but a folly for one that professes Christ truly, to look for the love of the world.

THUS shall 〈◊〉〈◊〉 learn to bear trouble, and to exercise your religion, an•• ••eel indeed that Christ's words be true, "In the world you shall suffer persecution." And when you shall feel your religion indeed, say, you be no better than your fore-fathers; but be glad, that you may be count|ed soldiers for this war: and pray to God when come to|gether, that he will use and order you and your doings in these three ends, which you must take heed to: the first, that you glorify God; the next, that you edify the church and congregation; the third, that you profit your own souls.

IN all your doings beware you be not deceived. For although this time be not so bloody and tyrannous, as the time of our fore-fathers, that could not bear the name of Christ, without danger of life and go••••s; yet is our time more perillous both for body and soul. Therefore of us Christ said, "Think ye when the Son of man cometh, he shall find faith upon earth▪ He said not, Think ye, ye shall find any man or woman christened, and in name a christian? but he spake of the faith that saveth the christian man in Christ: and doubtless the scarcity of faith is now more (and will, I fear increase) than it was in the time of the greatest tyrants that ever were; and no marvel why. Read the sixth chapter of St. John's Revelation, and ye shall perceive amongst other things, that at the opening of the fourth seal came out a pale horse, and he that sat upon him was called death, and hell followed. This horse is the time wherein hypocrites and dissemblers entered into the church under the pretence of true religion, as monks, friers, nuns, massing-priests, with such others, that hath killed more souls with heresy and superstition, that all the tyrants, that ever killed bodies by fire, sword, o•• banishment, as it appeareth by his name that sitteth upon the horse, who is called Death: for all that love not Christ, and trust to these hypocrites, live to the devil in everlasting pain, as is de|clared by him that followeth the pale horse which is hell.

THESE pale hypocrites have stirred the earthquakes, that is to say, the princes of the world, against Christ's church, and have also darkened the sun, and made the moon bloody, and have caused the stars to fall fr••m heaven, that is to say, have darkened with mine, 〈…〉〈…〉 do darken (as you hear by their sermons) the clear sun of God's most pure word: the moon, which be God's true preachers, which fetch only light at the sun of God's word, are turned into blood, pri|sons, and chains, that their light cannot shine into the world as they would: whereupon it cometh to pass, that the stars, that is to say, christian people, fall from heaven, that is, from God's most true word to hypocrisy, most devilish su|perstition, and idolatry. Let some learned man shew you all the articles of your belief and monument of christian faith, from the time of Christ hitherto, and you shall per|ceive that there was never mention of such articles as these hypocrites teach. God bless you, and pray for me as I do for you.

Out of the Fleet by your brother in Christ, JOHN HOOPER.

LETTER III. To Dr. ROBERT FERRAR, Bishop of St DAVID'S, the Rev. Dr. ROWLAND TAYLOR, the Rev. Mr. JOHN BRADFORD, and Arch-deacon PHILPOT, Pri|soners in the King's Bench, Southwark.

THE grace of God be with you, Amen. I am adver|tised by divers, as well such as love the truth, as also by such as yet be not come into it, that you and I shall be carried shortly to Cambridge, there to dispute for the faith, and for the religion of Christ, (which is most true) that we have and do profess. I am (as I doubt not you be) in Christ ready, not only to go to Cambridge, but also to suffer, by God's help, death itself in the maintenance thereof.

Weston and his accomplices have obtained forth the com|mission already, and speedily (most like) he will put it in execution. Wherefore, dear brethren, I do advertise you of the thing before for divers causes. The one to com|fort you in the Lord, that the time draweth near and is at hand, that we shall testify before God's enemies God's truth. The next, that you should prepare yourselves the better for it. The third, to shew you what ways I think ourselves were best to use in this matter, and also to hear of you your better advice, if mine be not good. Ye know, such as shall be censors and judges over us thirst for our blood, and whether we, by God's help, overcome after the word of God, or by force, and subtility of our adversaries be overcome, this will be the conclusion; our adversaries, will say, they overcome, and you perceive how they report of those great learned men and godly personages at Oxford.

WHEREFORE I mind never to answer them, except I have books present, because they use not only false allega|tion of the doctors, but also a piece of the doctors against the whole course of the doctors mind. The next, that we may have sworn notaries, to take things spoken indifferent|ly: which will be very hard to have, for the adversaries will have the oversight of all things, and then make their's better than it was, and our's worse than it was. Then if we see that two or three, or more will speak together, or with scoffs and taunts illude and mock us; I suppose it were best to appeal, to be heard before the queen and the whole council, and that would much set forth the glory of God. For many of them know already the truth, many of them err rather of zeal than malice, and the others that be obdu|rate should be answered fully to their shame, (I doubt not) although to our smart and blood-shedding. For of this I am assured, that the commissioners appointed to hear us and judge us, mean nothing less than to hear the cause indiffer|ently; for they be enemies unto us and our cause, and be at a point already to give sentence against us: so that if it were possible with St. Stephen to speak so that they could not resist us, or to use such silence and patience as Christ did, they will proceed to revenging.

WHEREFORE, my dear brethren, in the mercy of Jesus Christ, I would be glad to know you•• advice this day or to|morrow; for shortly we shall be gone, and I verily suppose that we shall not company together, but he kept one apart from another. They will deny our appeal, yet let us chal|lenge the appeal, and take witness thereof, of such as be present, and require for indifferency of hearing and judg|ment, to be heard either before the queen and the council, or else before all the parliament, as they were used in king Edward's days. Further, for my part I will require both books and time to answer. We have been prisoners now three quarters of a year, and have lacked our books; and our memories by close keeping and ingratitude of their parts, be not so present and quick as their's be. I trust God will be with us, yea, I doubt not but he will▪ and teach us to do all things in his cause godly and constantly. If our adversaries, that shall be our judges, may have their purpose, we shall dispute one day, be condemned the next day, and suffer the third day. And yet is there no law to condemn us, (as far as I know) and so one of the convoca|tion-house said this week to Dr. Weston. To whom Weston made this answer, It mattereth not (quoth he) for a law, we have our commission to proceed with them; when they be dispatched, let their friends sue the law.

NOW how soon a man may have such a commission at my lord chancellor's hand, you know. It is as hard to be ob|tained as an indictment for Christ at Caipha's hand. Be|sides that the bishops having the queen so upon their sides, may do all things both without the advice, and also the knowledge of the rest of the lords of the temporality; who at this present have found out the mark that the bishops shot at, and doubtless be not pleased with their doings. I pray you help, that our brother Saunders and the rest in the Marshelsea may understand these things, and send me your answer betime. Judas sleepeth not; neither know we the day nor the hour. The Lord Jesus Christ with the Holy Spirit comfort and strengthen us all. Amen.

May 6, Anno 1554.

Your's and with you unto death in Christ, JOHN ••••••••ER.

LETTER IV. From the Bishop to his Wife ANNE HOOPER, whereby all the true Members of Christ may take Comfort and Courage to suffer Affliction for the Profession of his holy Gospel.

OUR Saviour Jesus Christ (dearly beloved, and my godly wife) in St. Matthew's gospel said unto his disciples, that it was necessary scandals should come: and that they could not be avoided, he perceived as well by the condition of those that should perish and be lost for ever in the world to come, as also by their affliction that should be saved. For he saw the greatest part at the people would contemn and neglect whatsoever true doctrine or godly ways should be shewed unto them, or else receive and us•• it as they thought good to serve their pleasures, without any profit to their souls, not caring whether they lived as they were commanded by God's word or not; but would think it sufficient to be counted to have the name of a christian man, with such works and fruits of his profession and christianity, as his fathers and elders, after their custom and manner, esteem and take to be good fruits and faithful works, and will not try them by the word of God. These men, by the just judgment of God, be delivered unto the craft and subtlety of the devil, that they may be kept by one scandalous stumbling-block or other, that they never come unto Christ, who came to save those that were ••o••t, as you may see how God delivereth wicked men up unto their own

lusts, to do one mischief after another, careless, until they come into a reprobate mind, that forgetteth itself, and can|not know what is expedient to be done, or to be left un|done, because they close their eyes, and will not see the light of God's word offered unto them: and being thus blinded, they prefer their own vanities before the truth of God's word. Where such corrupt minds be, there are also cor|rupt notions and choice of God's honour: so that the mind of man taketh falsehood for truth, superstition for true reli|gion, death for life, damnation for salvation, hell for heaven, and persecution of Christ's members for God's service and honour. And as these men wilfully and voluntarily reject the word of God; even so God most justly delivereth them up to blindness of mind and hardness of heart, that they cannot understand, nor yet consent to any thing that God would have preached, and set forth to his glory, after his own will and word: wherefore they hate it mortally, and of all things most detest God's holy word. And as the devil hath entered into their hearts, that they themselves cannot nor will come to Christ, to be instructed by his holy word; even so can they not abide any other man to be a christian man, and to lead his life after the word of God, but hate him, persecute him, rob him, imprison him, yea, and kill him, whether he be man or woman, if God suffer it. And so much are these wicked men blinded, that they regard no law, whether it be God's or man's, but persecute such as never offended, yea, do evil to those that have prayed daily for them, and wish them God's grace.

IN their blind fury they have no respect to nature. For the brother persecuteth the brother, the father the son, and most dear friends, in devilish slander and offence, are be|come most mortal enemies. And no marvel; for when they have chosen sundry masters, the one the devil, the other God, the one shall agree with the other, as God and the de|vil agree between themselves. For this cause (that the more part of the world doth use to serve the devil under cloaked hypocrisy of God's title) Christ said, it is expe|dient and necessary, that scandals should come, and many may be advised to keep the little babes of Christ from their heavenly Father. But Christ saith, Wo be unto him by whom the offence cometh: yet is there no remedy, man being of such corruption and hatred towards God, but that the evil shall be deceived, and persecute the good; and the good shall understand the truth, and suffer persecution for it unto the world's end. For as he that was born after the flesh, persecuted in times past him that was born after the Spirit, even so it is now. Therefore forasmuch as we live in this life amongst so many great perils and dangers, we must be well assured by God's word how to bear them, and how patiently to take them as they be sent to us from God. We must also assure ourselves, that there is no other reme|dy for christians in the time of trouble, than Christ himself hath appointed us. In St. Luke he giveth us this com|mandment, Ye shall possess your lives in patience, saith he. In whi••h words he giveth us both commandment what to do, and also great comfort and consolation in all troubles. He showeth what is to be done, and what is to be hoped for in trouble: and when troubles happen, he biddeth us be patient; and in no case violently nor seditiously to resist our persecutors, because God hath such care and charge of us, that he will keep in the midst of all troubles the very hairs of our head, so that one of them shall not fall away without the will and pleasure of our heavenly Father. Whether the hair therefore tarry on the head, or fall from the head, it is the will of the Father. And seeing he hath such care for the hairs of our head, how much more doth he care for our life itself? Wherefore let God's adversaries do what they list, whether they take life or take it not, they can do us no hurt: for their cruelty hath no further power than God permit|teth them; and that which cometh unto us by the will of our heavenly Father can be no harm, no loss, neither de|struction unto us, but rather gain, wealth, and felicity. For all troubles and adversity that chance to such as be of God, by the will of the heavenly Father, can be none other but gain and advantage.

THAT the spirit of man may feel these consolations, the giver of them, the heavenly Father, must be prayed unto for the merits of Christ's passion: for it is not the nature of man that can be contented, until it be regenerated and possessed with God's Spirit, to bear patiently the troubles of the mind or of the body. When the mind and heart of a man seeth on every side sorrow and heaviness, and the worldly eye beholdeth nothing but such things as be trou|bles, and wholly bent to rob the poor of what he hath, and also take from him his life: except the man weigh these brittle and uncertain treasures that be taken from him, with the riches of the life to come, and this life of the body with the life in Christ's blood, and so for the love and certainty of the heavenly joys contemn all things present, doubtless he shall never be able to bear the loss of goods, life, o•• any other thing of this world.

THEREFORE St. Paul giveth a godly and necessary lesson to all men in this short and transitory life, and therein shew|eth how a man may best bear the iniquities and troubles of this world; "If ye be risen again with Christ, (saith he) seek the things which are above, where Christ sitteth at the right hand or God the Father." Wherefore, the christian man's faith must be always upon the resurrection of Christ, when he is in trouble; and in that glorious resurrection he shall not only see continual and perpetual joys and conso|lation, but also the victory and triumph over all persecution, trouble, sin, death, hell, and the devil, and all other tyrants and persecutors of Christ, and of Christ's people▪ the tears and weeping of the faithful dried up, their wounds healed, their bodies made immortal in joy, their fouls for ever praising the Lord, in conjunction and society everlasting with the blessed company of God's elect in perpetual joy. But the words of St. Paul in that place, if they be not marked, shall do little profit to the reader or hearer, and give him no patience at all in this impatient and cruel world.

IN this first part St. Paul commandeth us, "to think or set our affections on things above." When he biddeth us seek the things that are above, he requireth that our minds never cease from prayer and study in God's word, until we see, know, and understand the vanities of this world, the shortness and misery of this life▪ and the treasures of the world to come, the immortality thereof, the joys of that life, and so never cease seeking, until such time as we know cer|tainly and be persuaded, what a blessed man he is, that seek|eth the one and sindeth it, and careth not for the other tho' he lose it; and in seeking, to have right judgment between the life present and the life to come, we shall find how little the pains, imprisonment, slanders, lies, and death itself is in this world, in respect of pains everlasting, the prison infer|nal, and dungeon of hell, the sentence of God••s just judge|ment, and everlasting death.

WHEN a man hath▪ by seeking the word of God, found out what the things above be, then must he (as St. Paul saith) set his affections upon them. And this command|ment is more hard than the other. For man's knowledge many times seeth the best, and knoweth there is a life to come, better than this life present, (as you may see how daily men and women can praise and commend, yea, and wish for heaven, and to be at rest there) yet they set not their affec|tions upon it: they do more affect and love indeed a trifle of nothing in this that pleaseth their affection, than the trea|sure of all treasures in heaven, which their own judgment saith is better than all worldly things. "Wherefore we must set our affections on the things that be above;" that is to say, when any thing worse than heaven, upon the earth, offereth itself to be our's, if we will give our good wills to it, and love it in our hearts, then ought we to see by the judgment of God's word, whether we may have the world without offence to God, and such things as be for this world|ly life without his displeasure. If we cannot, St. Paul's commandment must take place▪ "Set your affections on things that are above." If the riches of this world may not be gotten nor kept by God's law, neither our lives be con|tinued without the denial of his honour, we must set our affections upon the riches and life that is above, and not upon things that are on the earth. Therefore this second commandment of St. Paul requireth, that our minds judge heavenly things to be better than things upon the earth, and the life to come better than the life present; so we should chuse them before the other, and prefer them, and have such affection to the best, that in no case we set the worst before it, as the most part of the world doth and hath done, for they chuse the best and approve it, and yet follow the worst.

BUT these things, my godly wife, require rather thought, meditation, and prayer, than words or talk. They are easy to be spoken of, but not so easy to be used and practised. Wherefore seeing they be God's gifts, and none of our's, to have as ou•• own when we would, we must seek them at our heavenly Father's hand, who ••••••th, and is privy how poor and wretched we be, and how naked, how spoiled, and destitute of all his blessed gifts we be by reason of sin. He did command therefore his disciples, when he shewed them that they should take patiently the state of this present life full of troubles and persecution, to pray that they might well escape those troubles that were to come, and be able to stand before the Son of Man. When you find yourself too much oppressed (as ••••ery man shall be sometimes with the fear of God's judgment) use the 77th Psalm that beginneth, "I will cry unto God with my voice, and he shall hearken unto me." In which Psalm is both godly doctrine and great consolation unto the man or woman that is in anguish of mind.

USE also in such trouble the 88th Psalm, wherein is con|tained the prayer of such a man, that was brought to extreme anguish and misery, and being vexed with adversaries and persecutions, saw nothing but death and hell. And although he felt in himself, that he had not only man, but also God angry towards him; yet he by prayer humbly resorted unto God.

WE must not also murmur against God, but always say his judgments are right and just, and rejoice that it pleaseth him by troubles to use us as he used heretofore such as he most loved in this world. "Be glad, and rejoice, for your reward is great in heaven." His promises shall (by God's grace) work both consolation and patience in afflicted chris|tians. And when our Saviour Christ hath willed men in trouble to be content and patient, because God in the end of trouble in Christ hath ordained eternal consolation; he useth also to take from us all shame and rebuke, as though it were not an honour to suffer for Christ, because the wicked world doth curse and abhor such poor troubled chris|tians. Wherefore Christ placeth all his honourably, and saith, "Even so persecuted they the prophets that were before you." We may also see with whom the afflicted for Christ's sake be esteemed, by St. Paul to the Hebrews, where the number of the blessed and glorious company of saints ap|pear now to our faith in heaven, in joy: yet in the letter, for the time of this life, in such pains and contempt as was never more. Let us therefore consider both them and all other things of the world since the fall of man, and we shall perceive nothing to come to perfection, but with such con|fusion and disorder to the eye of the world, as though things were rather lost for ever, than like to come to any perfec|tion at all. For of godly men, who ever came to heaven (no not Christ himself) until such time as the world had thought verily, that both he and all his had been clean de|stroyed and cast away: as the wise man saith of the wicked people, "We thought them to be fools, but they are in peace."

WE may learn by things that nourish and maintain us, both meat and drink, what loathsomeness and (in a manner) abhorring they come unto, before they work their perfection in us. From life they are brought to the fire, and clean altered from what they were when they were alive; from

the fire to the trencher and knife, and all hacked; from the trencher to the mouth, and as small ground as the teeth can grind them; and from the mouth into the stomach, and there so boiled and digested before they nourish, that whosoever saw the same, would loath and abhor his own nourishment, before it came to its perfection.

IS it then any marvel if such christians as God delighteth in, be so mangled and defaced in this world, which is the kitchen and mill to boil and grind the flesh of God's people in, till they atchieve their perfection in the world to com••? And as a man looketh for the nutriment of his meat when it is full digested, and not before: so must he look for his salvation when he has passed this troublesome world, and not before. Raw flesh is not meat wholesome for man: and unmortified men and women be no•• creatures meet for God. Therefore Christ saith, that his people must be broken, and all be torn in the mill of this world, and so shall they be most fine meal unto the heavenly Father. And it shall be a christian man's part, and the duty of a mind re|plenished with the Spirit of God, to mark the order of God in all his things, how he dealeth with them, and how they suffer, and be content to let God do his will upon them, as St. Paul saith, "They wait until the number of the elect be fulfilled, and never be at rest, but look for the time when God's people shall appear in glory".

WE must therefore patiently suffer, and willingly attend upon God's doings, although they seem clean contrary, after our judgment, to our we••lth and salvation▪ as Abra|ham did, when he was bid to offer up his son Isaac, in whom God promised the blessing and multiplying of his seed. Joseph at the last came to that which God promised him, although in the mean time, after the judgment of the world, he was never like to be (as God said he should be) lord over his brethren. When Christ would make the blind man to see, he put clay upon his eyes, which after the judge|ment of man, was a means rather to make him double blind, than to give him his sight; but he obeyed, and knew that God could work his desire, what means soever he used con|trary to man's reason▪ and as touching this world, he useth all his after the same sort. If any smart, his people be the first▪ if any suffer shame, they begin; if any be subject to slander, it is those that he loveth: so that he sheweth no fare or favour, nor love, almost in this world outwardly to them, but layeth clay upon their sore eyes that be sorrow|ful; yet the patient man seeth, (as St. Paul saith) life hid under th••se miseries and advertities, and sight under the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 clay; and in the mean time he hath the testimony of a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 conscience, and believeth God's promises to be his consolation in the world to come, which is more worthy unto him, than all the world is worth besides: and blessed as the man in whom God's Spirit beareth record that he is a child of God, whatsoever troubles he suffer in this trouble|some world.

AND judge things indifferently, my good wife, the troubles be not yet generally, as they were in our good father's time, soon after the death and resurrection of our Saviour Jesus Christ, whereof in St. Matthew. Of which place you and I have taken many times great conso|lation, and especially of the latter part of the chapter, wherein is contained the last day and end of a••l troubles (I doubt not) both for you and me, and for such as love the coming of our Saviour Christ 〈◊〉〈◊〉 judgment. Remember therefore that place, and mark it again, and you shall in this time se•• this great consolation, and also learn much patience. Were there ever such troubles, as Christ threatened upon Jerusalem? Was there since the beginning of the world such affliction? Who was then best at ease? The apostles that suffered in body persecution, and gathered of it ease and quietness in the promises of God. And no marvel, for Christ saith, "Lift up your heads, for your redemption is at hand▪" that is to say, your eternal rest approacheth and draweth near. The world is stark blind, and more foolish than fool••shness itself, and so are the people of the world. For wh••n God saith, trouble shall come, they will have ease. And when God saith, be merry and rejoice in trouble▪ we lam••nt and mourn, as though we were cast-away. But this our flesh (which is never merry with virtue, nor sorry with vice; never laugheth with grace, no•• ever weepeth w••th sin) holdeth fast with the world, and letteth God slip. But, my dearly beloved wife, you know how to perceive and to be|ware of the vanity and crafts of the devil well enough in Christ. And that you may the better have patience in the Spirit of God, read again the 24th of St. Matthew, and mark what difference is between the destruction of Je|rusalem, and the destruction of the whole world, and you shall see, that then there were l••ft alive many of••enders to repent: but at the latter day there shall be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 judg|ment, and sentence (never to be revoked) of et••rnal life and eternal death upon all men 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and yet towards the end of the world we have nothing so much extremity as they had then, but even as we are able to bear. So doth the mer|ciful Father lay upon us now imprisonment, (and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 I suppose for my part shortl••, death) now spo•••• of goods▪ loss of friends, and the greatest loss of all, the knowledge of God's word. God's will be done. I wish in Christ Jesus our only Mediator and Saviour, your 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and consolation, that you may 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for ever and ever, whereof in Christ I doubt not; to whom, for his most bless••d and pa••nful passion, I commit you. Amen▪ Octob•••• 13. 1553.

LETTER V. To a PIOUS WIDOW.

THE grace of God, and the comfort of his Holy Spi|rit be with you, and all them that un••••ign••dly love his holy gospel, Amen. I thank 〈…〉〈…〉 your most loving remembrance▪ and alth••••gh I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 re••••mpense the same, yet do I wish with all ••y heart, that God would do it, requiring you not to forget your duty

towards God in these perilous days, in which the Lord will try us. I trust you do increase, by reading of the scriptures, the knowledge you have of God, and that you diligently apply yourself to follow the same: for the know|ledge helpeth not, except the life be according thereunto. Further, I do heartily pray you, to consider the state of your widowhood, and if God shall p••t it in your mind to change it, remember the saying of St. Paul, 1 Cor. vii. "It is lawful for the widow or maiden to marry whom they list, so it be in the Lord:" that is to say, to such a one as is of Christ's religion. Dearly belov|ed in Christ, remember these words, for you shall find thereby great joy and comfort, if you change your state. Whereof I will, when I have better leisure, (as now I have none at all) further advertise you. In the mean time I commend you to God, and the guiding of his good Spirit, who establish and confirm you in all well-doing, and keep you blameless to the day of the Lord. Watch and pray, for this day is at hand.

Your's, assured in Christ, JOHN HOOPER.

LETTER VI. From the Bishop of GLOUCESTER, to all his Bre|thren, Relievers, and Helpers, in the City of LONDON.

THE grace of God be with you, Amen. I have re|ceived from you (dearly beloved in our Saviour Jesus Christ) by the hands of my servant William Down|••••••▪ your liberality, for the which I most heartily thank you, and I praise God highly in you and for you, who hath moved your hearts to shew this kindness towards me, pray|ing him to preserve you from all famine, scarcity, and lack of the truth of his word, which is the lively food of your souls, as you preserve my body from hunger, and other necessities which should happen unto me; were it not cared for by the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and charity of godly people. Such as have taken all worldly goods and lands from me, and spoiled me of all that I had, and have imprisoned my body, and appointed not a halfpenny to feed or relieve me withal: but I do forgive them and pray for them daily in my poor prayer unto God, and from my heart I wish their salvation, and quietly and pa|tiently bear their injuries, wishing no farther extremity to be used towards us. Yet if the contrary seem best unto our heavenly Father, I have made my reckoning, and fully resolved myself to suffer the uttermost that they are able to do against me, yea, death itself, by the aid of Christ Jesus, who di••d the mo•••• ••vile death of the cross for us wretches and miserable sinners. But of this I am assured, that the wicked world, with all their force and power, shall not touch one of the haus of our heads without leave and li|cence of our heavenly Father, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 will be don•• in all things. If he will 〈◊〉〈◊〉, ••se be it▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he will 〈◊〉〈◊〉, death be it. Only we pray, that our wills may be subject unto his will, and then although both we and all the world see no other thing but death, yet if he think life best, we shall not die, no, although the sword be drawn out over our heads: as Abraham thought to kill his son Isaac, yet when God perceived that Abraham had surrendered his will to God's will, and was content to kill his son, God then sa|ved his son.

DEARLY beloved, if we are contented to obey God's will, and for his commandment's sake to surrender our goods and our lives to be at his pleasure, it maketh no matter whether we keep goods and life, or lose them. Nothing can hurt us that is taken from us for God's cause, nor can any thing at length do us good, that is preserved contrary to God's commandment. Let us wholly suffer God to use us and our's after his holy wisdom, and beware we neither use nor govern ourselves to his will by our own wisdom: for if we do, our wisdom will at length prove fool|ishness. It is kept to no good purpose, that we keep con|trary unto his commandments. It can by no means be taken from us, that he should tarry with us. He is no good christian that ruleth himself and his, as worldly means serve: for he that so doth shall have as many changes as chanceth in the world. To-day with the world he shall like and praise the truth of God, to-morrow as the world will, so will he like and praise the falshood of man; to-day with Christ, and to-morrow with Antichrist. Where|fore, d••ar breth••••n, as touching your behaviour towards God, use both your inward spirits and your outward bodies, your inward and your outward man (I say) not after the manners of men, but after the infallible word of God.

RESTRAIN from evil in both; and glorify your heavenly Father in both. For if you think you can inwardly in the heart serve him, and yet outwardly serve with the world in external service the thing that is not God, you deceive yourselves; for both the body and the soul must together concur in the honour of God, as St. Paul plainly teacheth, 1 Cor. vi. For if an honest wife be bound to give both heart and body to faith and service in marriage, and if an honest wife's faith in the heart cannot stand with a whorish or defiled body outwardly; much less can the true faith of a christian, in the service of christianity, stand with the bodily service of external idolatry: for the mystery of marriage is not so honourable between man and wife, as it is between Christ and every christian man, as St. Paul saith.

THEREFORE, dear brethren, pray to the heavenly Fa|ther, that as he spared not the soul nor the body of his dearly beloved Son, but applied both of them with ex|treme pain, to work our salvation both of body and soul; so he will give us all grace to apply our bodies and souls to be servants unto him: for doubtless he requireth as well the one as the other, and cannot be discontented with the one and well-pleased with the other. Either he hateth both, or loveth both; he divideth not his love to one, and his hatred to the other. Let us not therefore, good brethen,

divide ourselves, and fay our souls serve him, whatsoever our bodies do to the contrary for civil order and policy.

BUT, alas! I know by myself, what troubleth you, that is, the great danger of the world, that will revenge (you think) your service to God with sword and fire, with loss of goods and lands. But, dear brethren, weigh of the other side, that your enemies shall not do so much as they would, but as much as God shall suffer them, who can trap them in their own counsels, and destroy them in the midst of their furies. Remember you be the workmen of the Lord, and called into his vineyard, there to labour till the evening-tide, that you may receive your penny, which is more worth than all the kingdoms of the earth. But he that calleth us into his vineyard, hath not told us how sore and how fervently the sun shall trouble us in our labour: but hath bid us labour, and commit the bitterness thereof unto him; who can and will so mo|derate all afflictions, that no man shall have more laid upon him, than in Christ he shall be able to bear. Unto whose merciful tuition and defence I commend both your souls and bodies. September 2, anno 1554.

Your's, with my poor prayer, JOHN HOOPER.

LETTER VII. To a MERCHANT, from whom the Bishop received great Consolation and Comfort, during the time of his Imprisonment in the FLEET.

GRACE, mercy, and peace in Christ Jesus our Lord. I thank God and you for the great help and consola|tion I have received in the time of adversity by your chari|table means; but most rejoiced that you be not altered from truth, although falsehood cruelly seeketh to destroy her. Judge not, my brother, truth by outward appearance; for truth now worse appeareth, and more vilely is rejected than falsehood. Leave the outward shew, and see by the word of God what truth is, and accept truth and dislike her not, though man call her falsehood. As it is now, so it hath been heretofore, the truth rejected and falsehood re|ceived. Such as have professed truth, for truth have smart|ed, and the friends of falsehood laughed them to scorn. The trial of both hath been by contrary success: the one having the condemnation of truth by man, but the con|demnation of falsehood by God, flourishing for a time, with endless destruction; the othe•• afflicted a little season, but ending with immortal joys. Wherefore, dear brother, ask and demand of your book, the testament of Jesus Christ, in those woful and wretched days, what you should rely up on for a certain truth, and whatsoever you hear taught, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it by your book, whether it be true or false. The days are dangerous and full of peril, not only for the world and worldly things, but for heaven and heavenly things. It is a trouble to lose the treasure of this life, but yet a very pain, if it be kept with the offence of God. Cry, call, pray, and in Christ daily require help, succour, mercy, wisdom, grace, and defence, that the wickedness of this world pre|vail not against us. We began well, God preserve us until the end. I would write more often unto you, but I do perceive you are at so much charges with me, that I fear you would think when I write, I crave. Send me nothing till I send to you for it: and so tell the good men your part|ners: and when I need, I will be bold with you. Decem|ber 3, 1554.

Your's, with my prayer, JOHN HOOPER.

LETTER VIII. From the same, to Mrs. WILKINSON, a Woman hearty in God's Cause, and who afterwards died in Exile, at Franckfort.

THE grace of God, and the comfort of his Holy Spirit be with you. Amen.

I am very glad to hear of your health, and do thank you for your loving tokens. But I am a great deal more glad to hear how christianly you avoid idolatry, and prepare yourself to suffer the extremity of the world, rather than to endanger yourself to God. You do as you ought to do in this behalf; and in suffering of transitory pains, you shall avoid perman••nt torments in the world to come. Use your life, and keep it with as much quietness as you can, so that you offend not God. The case that cometh of his displea|sure, turneth at length to unspeakable pains; and the gains of the world, with the loss of his favour, are beggary and wretchedness. Reason is to be amended in this cause of religion; for it will chuse and follow an error with the multitude, if it may be allowed, rather than turn to faith and follow the truth with the people of God. Moses found the same fault in himself, and did amend it, chusing rather to be afflicted with the people of God, than to use the liber|ty of the king's daughter, that accounted him as her son. Pray for contentment and peace of the spirit, and rejoice in such troubles as shall happen to you for the truth's sake: for in that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 saith, You are happy. Pray also for me, I pray you, that I may do in all things the will of our hea|venly Father: to whose tuition and defence I commend you.

LETTER IX. To Mr. HALL and his WIFE, whom the Bishop stiles his Dear Friends in God, and exhorts to stand fast in the Truth.

THE grace of God be with you, Amen. I think you for your loving and gentle friendship at all times,

praying to God to shew unto you such favour, that whatsoever trouble and adversity happen, you go not back from him. These days are dangerous and full of peril: but yet let us comfort ourselves in calling to remembrance the days of our forefathers, upon whom the Lord sent such troubles, that many hundreds, yea, many thousands, died for the testi|mony of Jesus Christ, both men and women, suffering with patience and constancy as much cruelty as tyrants could de|vise, and so departed out of this miserable world to the bliss everlasting, where they now remain for ever, looking al|ways for the end of this sinful world, when they shall re|ceive their bodies again in immortality, and see the number of the elect associated with them in full and consummate joys: and as virtuous men suffering martyrdom, and tarry|ing a little while in this world with pains, by and by rested in joys everlasting; and as their pains ended their sorrows, and began ease, so did their constancy and stedfastness ani|mate and confirm all good people in the truth, and gave them encouragement even to suffer the like, rather than to close with the world and consent unto wickedness and ido|latry. Wherefore, my dear friends, seeing God of his part hath illuminated you with the same gift and knowledge of true faith, wherein the apostles and evangelists, and all mar|tyrs suffered most cruel death; thank him for his grace in knowledge, and pray unto him for strength and perseve|rance, that through your own fault you be not ashamed or afraid to confess it. Yet you are in the truth, and the gates of hell shall never prevail against it, nor Antichrist with all his imps can prove it to be false. They may kill and persecute, but never overcome. Be of good comfort, and fear God more than man. This life is short and miserable; happy are they that can spend it to the glory of God. Pray for me, as I do for you, and commend me to all good men and women. December 22, 1554.

Your brother in Christ, JOHN HOOPER.

LETTER X. To Mrs. ANNE WARCOP, whom the Bishop stiles his Dearly beloved Sister in the LORD.

THE grace of God be with you, Amen. I thank you for your loving token. I pray you burden not your|self too much. It were meet for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 rather to bear a pain, than to be a hindrance to many. I did rejoice at the com|ing of this bearer, to understand of your constancy, and how that you are fully resolved, by God's grace, rather to suffer extremity, than to go from the truth of God which you have professed. He that gave you grace to begin so infalli|ble a truth, will follow you in the same unto the end. But, my loving sister, as you are travelling this perilous journey, take this lesson with you, practised by wise men; whereof you may read in the second of St. Matthew's gospel. Such as travelled to find Christ, followed only the star, and as long as they saw it, they were assured they were in the right way, and had great mirth in their journey. But when they entered into Jerusalem, whereas the star led them not thi|ther, but unto Bethlehem, and there asked the citizens the thing that the star shewed before; as long as they tarried in Jerusalem, and would be instructed where Christ was born; they were not only ignorant o•• Bethlehem, but also lost the sight of the star that led them before. Whereof we learn, in any case, whilst we are going in this life to seek Christ that is above, to beware that we lose not the star of God's word, that is the only mark that sheweth us where Christ is, and which way we may come unto him. But as Jeru|salem stood in the way, and was an impediment to these wise men; so doth the synagogue of Antichrist, that beareth the name of Jerusalem, which by interpretation is called the vision of peace, and amongst the people now is called the catholic church, stand in the way that pilgrims must go by through this world to Bethlehem, the house of saturity and plentifulness, and is an impediment to all christian travel|lers; yea, and except the more grace of God be, will keep the pilgrims still in her, that they shall not come where Christ is at all. And to stay them indeed, they take away the star of light, which is God's word, that it cannot be seen: as you may see how the celestial star was hid from the wise men, when they asked of the pharisees at Jerusalem, where Christ was born. You may see what great dangers happened unto these wise men, whilst they were learning of liars where Christ was. First, they were out of their way, and next they lost their guide and conductor, the heavenly star. Christ is mounted from us into heaven, and there we see•• him, (as we say) let us go thitherward by the star of his word, and beware we happen not to come into Jerusa|lem, the church of men, and ask for him. If we do, we go out of the way, and loose also our conductor and guide that only leadeth us straight thither.

THE poets write in fables, that Jason, when he fought with the dragon in the isle of Co•• his, was preserved by the medicines of Medea, and so won the golden fleece. And they write also that Phaeton, whom they fain to be the son and heir of the hig•• god Jupiter, would needs upon a day have the conduction of the sun round about the world; but, as they feigned, he missed of the accustomed course: where|upon when he went too high, he burned heaven; and when he went too low, he burned the earth and the water. These profane histories do shame us that are christian men. Jason against the poison of the dragon used only the medicine of Medea. What a shame is it for a christian man against the poison of the devil, heresy, and sin, to use any other remedy than Christ and his word? Phaeton, for lack of knowledge, was afraid of every sign of the Zodiack, that the sun passed by: wherefore he went now too low, and now too high▪ and at length fell down and drowned himself in the sea. Christian men for lack of knowledge, and for fear of such dangers as they must needs pass by, go clean out of order, and at length fall into the pit of hell.

SISTER, take heed; you shall in your journey towards

heaven meet with many a monstrous beast: have salve of God's word therefore ready. You shall meet husband, children, lovers, and friends, that shall, if God be not with them, (as God be praised he is, I would it were with all other alike) be very lets and impediments to your purpose. You shall meet with slander and contempt of the world, and be accounted ungracious and ungodly; you shall hear and meet with cruel tyranny to do you all extremities; you shall now and then see the troubles of your own conscience, and feel your own weakness; you shall hear that you be cursed by the sentence of the catholic church, with such like terrors: but pray to God, and follow the star of his word, and you shall arrive at the port of eternal salvation, by the merits only of Jesus Christ: to whom I commend you, and all your's most heartily.

Your's in Christ, JOHN HOOPER.

TO these letters of bishop Hooper, we shall annex one written by the famous Henry Bullinger, of whom mention has been made in the beginning of the bishop's life.

A LETTER, From the learned HENRY BULLINGER, chief Superin|tendant in the City of Zurich, in Switzerland, to Bishop Hooper.

TO the most Rev. Father, Dr. John Hooper, Bishop of Worcester and Gloucester, and now a prisoner for the gospel of Jesus Christ, my fellow elder, and most dear brother in England. The heavenly Father grant unto you, and to all those which are in bonds and captivity for his name's sake, grace and peace through Jesus Christ our Lord, with wisdom, patience, and fortitude of the Holy Ghost.

I have received from you two letters, my most dear bro|ther, the former in the month of September of the year past, the latter in the month of May in this present year, both written out of prison. But I doubting lest I should make answer to you in vain, whilst I f••ared that my letters should never come into your hands, or else increase and double your sorrow, did refrain from the duty of wr••••••ng. In which thing I doubt not but you will have me excused, especially seeing you did no•• vouchsafe▪ no not once in a whole year, to answer to my whole wh••res▪ rather than letters, whereas I continued still notwithstanding in writing unto 〈◊〉〈◊〉 as also at this present, after I heard you were cast in prison, I did not refrain from continual prayer, beseeching our hea|venly Father, through our 〈…〉〈…〉 Jesus Christ, to 〈…〉〈…〉 you and your 〈◊〉〈◊〉-prisoners, faith and 〈…〉〈…〉 the 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Now is that thing 〈◊〉〈◊〉 unto you, my broth••••, the which we did oftentimes pr••ph••sy un|to ourselves, at your being with us, should come to pass, especially when we 〈◊〉〈◊〉 talk of the power of Antichrist, and of his felicity and victories. For you know the saying of Daniel, his power shall be mighty, but not in his strength, and he shall wonderfully destroy and make havock of all things, and shall prosper and practise, and he shall destroy the migh|ty and the holy people after his own will. You know what the Lord warned us of before-hand by Matthew, in the 10th chapter, by John in the 15th chapter, and the 16th, and also what that chosen vessel St. Paul hath written in the second of Timothy and the third chapter. Wherefore I do nothing doubt (by God's grace) of your faith and patience, whilst you know that those things which you suffer are not unlooked for, or come by chance; but that you suffer them in the best, truest, and most holy quarrel: for what can be more true and holy than our doctrine, which the papists, those worshippers of Antichrist, do persecute? All things touching salvation we attribute unto Christ alone, and to his holy institutions, as we have been taught of him and of his disciples: but they would have even the same things to be communicated, as well to their Antichrist, and to his institutions. Such we ought no less to withstand, than we read that Elias withstood the Baalites. For if Jesus be Christ, then let them know, that he is the fulness of his church, and that perfectly: but if Antichrist be king and priest, then let them exhibit unto him that honour. How long do they halt on both sides? Can they give unto us any one that is better than Christ? or who shall be equal with Christ, that may be compared with him, except it be he whom the apostle calleth the adversary? But if Christ be sufficient for his church, what needeth this patching and piecing? But I know well enough, I need not use th•••• disputations with you, who are sincerely taught, and have taken root in Christ, being persuaded that you have all things in him, and that we in him are made perfect.

GO forward therefore constantly to confess Christ, and to defy Antichrist, being mindful of this most holy and most true saying of our Lord Jesus Christ: He that overcometh shall possess all things, and I will be his God and he shall be my son; but the fearful, and the unbelieving, and the murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone, which is the second death. The first death is soon overcome, although a man must burn for the Lord's sake: for they say well that do affirm this our fire to be scarcely a shadow of that which is prepared for unbelievers, and them that fall from the truth. Moreover, the Lord granteth unto us, that we may easily overcome by his power the first 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the which he himself did 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and overcome, promising withal such joys as shall never have an end, unspeakable, and passing all understand, the which we shall possess as soon as ever w••••d part hence. For so again saith the angel of the Lord: If 〈◊〉〈◊〉 man worship the beast and his ima••e, and receive h••s 〈…〉〈…〉 in his 〈…〉〈…〉, or 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his hand, the same shall drink 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the wrath of God▪ yea, of the wine which is poured into the cup of his wrath,

and shall be tormented in fire and brimstone before the holy angels, and before the Lamb: and the smoke of their tor|ment shall ascend evermore, and they shall have no rest day nor night, which worship the beast and his image, and who|soever receiveth the print of his name. Here is the pa|tience of saints; here are they that keep the commandments of God, and the faith of Jesus. To this he addeth by and by; I heard a voice saying to me, Write, blessed are the dead that die in the Lord, from henceforth, or speedily, they be blessed, John v. even so saith the Spirit; for they rest from their labours, and their works do follow them: for our labour shall not be frustrate or in vain.

THEREFORE seeing you have such a large promise, be strong in the Lord, fight a good fight, be faithful to the Lord unto the end: consider that Christ the Son of God is your captain, and fighteth for you, and that all the prophets, apostles, and martyrs, are your fellow-soldiers. They that persecute and trouble us, are men sinful and mortal, whose favour a wise man would not buy with the value of a farth|ing: and besides that, our life is frail, short, brittle, and transitory. Happy are we, if we depart in the Lord, who grant unto you, and to all your fellow-prisoners, faith and constancy. Commend me to the most reverend fathers and holy confessors of Christ, Dr. Cranmer, bishop of Canter|bury, Dr. Ridley, bishop of London, and the good old father Dr. Latimer. Them and all the rest of the prisoners with you for the Lord's cause, sal••te in my name, and in the name of all my fellow-ministers, the which do speak unto you the grace of God, and constancy in the truth.

CONCERNING the state of our church, it remaineth even as it was when you departed from us into your country. God grant we may be thankful to him, and that we do not only profess the faith with words, but also express the same effectually with good works, to the praise of our Lord. The word of God increaseth daily in that part of Italy that is near unto us, and in France.

IN the mean while the godly sustain grievous persecutions, and with great constancy and glory, through torments they go unto the Lord. I and all my houshold, with my son-in-law and kinsmen, are in good health in the Lord. They do salute you, and pray for your constancy, being sorrowful for you and the rest of the prisoners. There came to us English students, both godly and learned. They are re|ceived of our magistrate. Ten of them dwell together, the rest remain here and there with good men. Amongst others, Mr. Thomas Lever is dear unto me, and familiar. If there be any thing wherein I may do any service to your wife and children, they shall have me wholly at command|ment: whereof I will write also to your wife, for I under|stand she abideth at Franckfort. Be strong and merry in Christ, waiting for his deliverance, when, and in what sort it shall seem good unto him. The Lord Jesus shew pity upon the realm of England, and illuminate the same with his Holy Spirit, to the glory of his name, and the salvation of souls. The Lord Jesus preserve and deliver you from all evil, with all them that call upon his name. Farewel, and farewel eternally. The 10th of October, Anno 1554, from Zurich,

You know the hand, H. B.

CHAP. III. HISTORY of the LIFE, SUFFERINGS, and MARTYRDOM, of the Rev. Dr. ROWLAND TAYLOR, Vicar of HAD••••Y▪ in SUFFOLK, under the cruel Tyranny of STEPHEN GARDINER, Bishop of WINCHESTER, and in the bloody Reign of MARY I. This valiant MARTYR was burned at ALDHAM-COMMON, February 9. 1555.

〈…〉〈…〉 of Hadley was one of the first that received the word of God, at the preaching of the Rev. Thomas Bilney; by whose industry the gospel of Christ took such root there, that a great number became exceedingly well learned in the ho|ly scriptures, as well women as men.

IN this parish, Dr. Rowland Taylor was a vicar, a man of eminent learning, and who had been admit|ted to the degree of doctor of the civil and canon law.

HIS attachment to the pure and uncorrupted principles of Christianity recommend him to the favour and friendship of Dr. Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury, with whom he lived a considerable

time, till through his interest he obtained the living of Hadley. This charge he attended with the ut|most diligence and assiduity, recommending and en|forcing the doctrines of the gospel not only by his judicious discourses from the pulpit, but also by the whole tenor of his life and conversation. His ••aith was sound and consequently productive of good works; that faith indeed which in scripture is deemed the gift of God, is always known by it's fruits, according to James ii.26. "For as the bo|dy without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also."

THUS continued Dr. Taylor promoting the in|erest of the great Redeemer, and the souls of man|kind, both by his preaching and example during the reign of king Edward VI. but on his demise and the succession of queen Mary to the throne, he escaped not the cloud that burst on so many beside; for two of his parishioners, Foster, an attorney, and Clark, a tradesman, out of blind zeal, resolved that mass should be celebrated in all its superstitious forms, in the parish church of Hadley, on Monday before Easter; nay, they had even caused an altar to be built in the chancel for that purpose, which being pulled down by the protestant inhabitants, they erected another, and prevailed with the minis|ter of an adjacent parish to celebrate mass in the passion-week.

THE doctor being employed in his study, was a|larmed at the ringing of bells at an unusual time, but went to the church to enquire the cause. He found the great doors fast, but lifting up the l••tch of the chancel-door, he entered and was not a little surprised, to see a priest in his habit prepared to ce|lebrate mass, guarded by a party of men under arms, to prevent interruption.

DR. TAYLOR being vicar of the parish, demand|ed of the priest the cause of such proce••••ing without his knowledge or consent; and how he dared pro|fane the temple of God with abominable idola…tries. Foster, the lawyer, insolently replied▪ "Thou traitor, how darest thou to int••••cept the execution of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 orders." but the doctor und••••••ntedly denied 〈…〉〈…〉 of traitor, and assert|ed his mission as a minister of Christ, and del••gation to that part of his flock, commanding the priest, as a wolf in sheep's clothing, to depart, nor infect the pure church of God with popish idolatry. A very violent altercation then ensued, between Foster the lawyer, and Dr. Taylor, the former asserting the queen's prerogative, and the other the authority of the canon-law, which commanded that no mass be said, but at a consecrated altar.

THE priest, intimidated by the intrepid beha|viour of the protestant minister, would have depart|ed without saying mass, but Clark said to him, Fear not, you have a supre altare, (which is a consecrated stone, commonly about a foot square, which the popish priests carry instead of an altar, when they say mass in gentlemen's houses) proceed and do your duty.

THEY then forced the doctor out of the church, celebrated mass, and immediately informed the lord chancellor, bishop of Winchester, of his behaviour, who summoned him to appear before him, and an|swer the complaints that were alledged against him.

THE doctor, upon receipt of the summons, chearfully prepared to obey the same; and on some of his friends advising him to fly beyond sea, in or|der to avoid the cruelty of his ••••veterate enemies, he told them that he was determined to go to the bishop, being ready and willing to declare the mo|tives of his behaviour to the popish emissaries, and defend the doctrines he had taught, as well as per|suaded that he could not die in a better cause; so having committed his people to the care of a pious and faithful minister of Christ, he repaired to Lon|don, and waited on the bishop.

NOW when bishop Gardiner saw Dr. Taylor, he▪ according to his common custom, reviled him, cal|ling him knave, traitor, heretic, with many other vil••••••nous reproaches, which Dr. Taylor heard pa|tiently, and it last said unto him▪

MY lord, I am neither traitor nor hereti••, but a true sub••ect, and a faithful christian man, and a•••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ according to your cammandment, to know what is the cause that your lordship hath sent for me.

THEN, said the bishop, art thou come, thou vil+lian?

How darest thou look me in the face for shame? Knowest thou not who I am?

YES, said Dr. Taylor, I know who you are, Dr. Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, and lord chancellor, and yet but a mortal man. But if I should be afraid of your lordly looks, why fear you not God, the Lord of us all? How dare you for shame look any christian man in the face, seeing you have forsaken the truth, denied our Saviour Christ and his word, and done contrary to your own oath and writing? With what countenance will you appear before the judgment seat of Christ, and answer to your oath made first unto king Henry the eighth, and afterwards unto king Edward the sixth, his son.

THE bishop answered, that was Herod's oath unlawful; and therefore worthy to be broken: I have done well in breaking it; and I thank God, I am come home again to our mother, the catholic church of Rome, and so I would thou shouldst do.

DR. TAYLOR answered, Should I forsake the church of Christ, which is founded upon the true foundation of the apostles and prophets, to approve those lies, errors, superstition, and idolatries, that the popes and their company at this day so plasphe|mously do approve? nay, God forbid. Let the pope and his followers return to our Saviour Christ and his word, and thrust out of the church such a|bominable idolatries as he maintaineth, and then will christian men turn unto him. You wrote truly against him, and were sworn against him.

I tell thee, said the bishop of Winchester, it was Herod's oath, unlawful; and therefore ought to be broken, and not kept: and our holy father the pope hath discharged me of it.

THEN said Dr. Taylor, But you shall not be so discharged before Christ, who doubtless will require it at your ••ands, as a lawful oath made to our liege and sovereign lord the king, from whose obedience no man can quit you.

I see, said the bishop, thou art an arrogant knave, and a very fool.

MY lord, Dr. Taylor replied, leave off your rail|ing at me, which is not seemly for such a one in au|thority as you are. For I am a christian man, and you know, that "He that saith to his brother, Racha, is in danger of a council, and he that saith, Thou fool, is in danger of hell fire."

THE bishop answered, You are false, and liars all the sort of you.

NAY, said Dr. Taylor, we are true men, and know that it is written, "The mouth that lieth, slayeth the soul;" and again, "Lord God, thou shalt destroy all that speak lies." And therefore we abide by the truth of God's word, which you, con|trary to your own consciences, deny and forsake.

THOU art married, said the bishop. Yes, I thank God I am, and have had nine children, and all in lawful matrimony, and blessed be God that ordain|ed matrimony, and commanded that every man, that hath not the gift of continency, should marty a wife of his own, and not live in adultery or whore|dom.

THEN said the bishop, Thou hast resisted the qeeen's proceedings, and would not suffer the mi|nister of Aldam, Mr. John Averth, a virtuous and devout priest, to say mass in Hadley. Dr. Tay|lor answered, My lord, I am vicar of Hadley, and it is against all right, conscience, and laws, that any man should come into my charge, and presume to infect the flock committed unto me, with venom of the popish idolatrous mass.

WITH that the bishop waxed very angry, and said, Thou art a blasphemous heretic indeed, that blasphemest the blessed sacrament, (and put off his cap) and speakest against the holy mass, which is made a sacrifice for the quick and the dead.

DR. TAYLOR answered, Nay, I blaspheme not the blessed sacrament which Christ instituted, but I reverence it as a true christian man ought to do, and confess, that Christ ordained the holy communion in the remembrance of his death and passion, which when we keep according to his ordinance, we, through saith, eat the body of Christ, and drink his blood, giving thanks for our redemption, and this is our sacrifice for the quick and the dead, to give

thanks for his merciful goodness shewed to us, in that he gave his Son Christ to die for us.

THOU sayest well, said the bishop. It is all that thou hast said, and more too; for it is a propitiato|ry sacrifice for the quick and the dead.

THEN answered Dr. Taylor, Christ gave himself to die for our redemption upon the cross, whose bo|by there offered was the propitiatory sacrifice full, perfect, and sufficient unto salvation for all them that believe in him. And this sacrifice did our Saviour Christ offer in his own person once for all, neither can any priest any more offer him, nor need we any more propitiatory sacrifice: and therefore I say with Chrysostom, and all the doctors: Our sacri|fice is only memorative, in the remembrance of Christ's death and passion, a sacrifice of thanksgiv|ing; and therefore the fathers called it Eucharistia: and no other sacrifice hath the the church of God.

IT is true, said the said bishop, the sacrament is called Eucharistia, a thanksgiving, because we there give thanks for our redemption; and it is also a sa|crifice propitiatory for the quick and the dead, which thou shalt confess ere thou and I have done. Then the bishop called his men, and said, Have this fel|low hence, and carry him to the King's-Bench, and charge the keeper he be straitly kept.

DR. TAYLOR kneeling down, held up both his hands and said, "Good Lord, I thank thee; and from the tyranny of the bishop of Rome, and all his detestable errors, idolatries, and abominations, good Lord deliver us: and God be praised for good king Edward." So they carried him to prison to the King's-Bench, where he lay prisoner almost two years.

THIS is the sum of their first discourse, as men|tioned in a letter that Dr. Taylor wrote to a friend of his, thanking God for his grace, that he had con|fessed his truth, and was found worthy for truth to suffer prison and bonds, beseeching his friends to pray for him, that he might presevere constant unto the end.

BEING in prison, Dr. Taylor spent all his time in prayer, reading the holy scriptures, writing, preaching, and exhorting the prisoners, and such as resorted to him, to repentance, and amendment of life, and within a few days after, several other learn|ed and godly men in sundry counties of England were committed to prison for religion, that almost all the prisons in England were become chistian schools and churches; so that there was no greater comfort for protestants, than to come to the prison•• to behold their virtuous deportment, and to hear their prayers, preachings, most godly exhorta|tions, and consolations.

WHEN Dr. Taylor was come into the King's-Bench, he found therein the virtuous and vigilant preacher of God's word, Mr. Bradford; which man for his innocent and pious living, his devout and virtuous preaching, was worthily counted a miracle of his time, as even his adversaries must needs con|fess. Finding this man in prison, he began to ex|hort him to faith, strength, and patience, and to persevere constant unto the end. Mr. Bradford hearing this, thanked God that he had provided him such a comfortable fellow-prisoner; and they both together praised God, and continued in prayer, reading, and exhorting one another; insomuch that Dr. Taylor told his friends that came to visit him, that God had most graciously provided for him, to send him to that prison where he found such an angel of God, to be in his company to comfort him.

AFTER that Dr. Taylor had lain some time in prison, he was cited to appear in the arches of Bow-church, to answer unto such matter as should be there objected against him. At the day appointed he was led thither, his keeper waiting upon him. Where when he came, he stoutly and strongly de|fended his marriage, affirming by the scriptures of God, by the doctors of the primitive church, by both laws civil and ca••on, that it is lawful for priests to marry, and that such as have not the gift of continency are bound in pain of damnation to marry. This he did so plainly prove, that the judge could give no sentence of divorce against him, but gave sentence he should be deprived of his benefice, because he was married.

YOU do me wrong then, said Dr. Taylor, and al|ledged many laws and constitutions for himself, but

all availed not; for he was again carried to prison and his livings taken away, and given to another. As for Hadley benefice, it was given or sold (I know not which) to one Mr. Nowealle, whose great vir|tues were altogether unlike to Dr, Taylor's, his predecessor, as the poor parishioners full well have found.

AFTER a year and three quarters, or thereabouts, the papists got certain old laws, which were annulled by Henry VIII. and Edward VI. to be again re|vived by parliament; so that now they might, by authority, cite whom they would, upon their own suspicion, and charge him with what articles they pleased, and, except they in all things agreed to their purpose, burn them. When these laws were once established, they sent for Dr. Taylor, with several other prisoners, who were convened before the chan|cellor and other commissioners in January.

AFTER having been several times before the chan|cellor, with whom he had warmly contended, the following articles were exhibited against him:

(1) MAINTAINING the validity and legality of the marriage of priests.

(2) DENYING the presence of Christ's natural body and blood in the sacrament of the altar, or that it was a propitiatory sacrifice both for the quick and dead, or that it ought to be worshipped with divine honour.

(3) AFFIRMING his holiness the pope to be Anti|christ, and popery antichristianity.

A RECAPITULATION out of Dr. TAYLOR'S causes, whereby our Readers may plainly see, how the Papists act against found Knowledge and sacred Truth, in forbiding Priests to marry.

1. THEY know that matrimony in the Old Testament, agreeable to its first institu|tion, indifferently permitted to all men without any exception.

2. THEY know that in the Old Testament, both priests, levites, prophets, patriarchs, and all others actually had their wives.

3. THEY know that matrimony was permitted and instituted by God for two principal ends: to wit, for procreation, and avoiding of sin.

4. THEY know that in the Old Testament, God not only instituted and permitted matrimony to be free, but also induceth and appointed men to mar|ry and take wives, in these words, "it is not good for a man to be alone," &c.

5. THEY know that in the New Testament St. Paul permitteth the state of matrimony free to all men, having not the gift of continency, and for|biddeth none.

6. THEY know that in the New Testament the said St. Paul not only permitteth, but also ex|pressly willeth and chargeth men, having not the gift, to marry, saying, "For avoiding fornication, let every man have his wife," &c.

7. THEY know that in the New Testament the said St. Paul not only permitteth and command|eth, but also commendeth and praiseth the state of matrimony, calling it honourable, and the bed-company to be undefiled, &c.

8. THEY know that in the New Testament, Christ himself not only was not conceived nor born of the virgin before she was espoused in matrimo|ny, but also that both he and his blessed mother did beatify and honour the state of matrimony with their presence▪ yea, in the same began his first miracle.

9. THEY know both by the Old Testament and New, that marriage is no impediment to walk in the obedience of God's commandments; for both Abraham carried into the land of Canaan his old, yea, barren wife, the virtuous woman Sarah, with him: and also to Isaac, Jacob, Moses, David, and others, their marriage was no impediment to them to walk with God; neither to other levites, bishops, and priests, in the time of both the Old Testament, and of the New. Again, neither was it an hindrance to Peter, Philip, and others, both to have their wives with them, and also to supply the office of apostleship.

10. THEY know both by the Old Testament and New, that sinful fornication and adultery depriveth man of God's favour and graces of the Holy Ghost, which graces especially be requisite in men of the church.

11. THEY know in their own secret con••••ience, and by experience, that neither they who enjoin this vow of chastity, nor they who take it, do ob|serve the vow of chastity. Whereupon rise incon|veniences more than can be expressed; but the Lord above knoweth all, besides the secret mur|ders, peradventure, of many a poor infant, &c.

12. THEY know by St. Cyprian, Epist. 11. and St. Augustine to Julian in his book on mar|riage, that a vow is no impediment sufficient to hinder matrimony, or to divorce the same.

13. THEY know that St. Chrysostom affirmeth it to be an heresy to say, that a bishop may not have a wife.

14. THEY know that St. Ambrose says, Inte|grity will have no commandment, but counsel only to be given touching the observing of virgin|ity.

15. THEY know that before the time of pope Hildebrand, that is, during the time of 1000 years after Christ, marriage was never restrained, by any forcible necessity of vow, from men of the church.

16. THEY know that St. Paul calleth it the doc|trine of devils, to forbid meats and marriage, which God hath left free, with thanksgiving, for necessity of man and woman.

WHEN Dr. Taylor had with great spirit and courage answered for himself, and rebuked his adversaries for breaking their oath made before to king Henry, and to king Edward his son, and for betraying the realm into the power of the Ro|man bishop; they perceiving, that in no case he could be drawn to their wills and purpose, that is, to turn with them from Christ to Antichrist, com|mitted him thereupon to prison again, where he remained till the end of January.

The FOURTH and LAST EXAMINATION of Dr. ROW|LAND TAYLOR, who with Mr. BRADFORD and Mr SAUNDERS were brought before the Bishop of WINCHESTER and other Prelates.

IN January, 1555, the Rev. Dr. Taylor, Mr. Bradford, and Mr. Saunders, were again cal|led to appear before the bishop of Winchester, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 bishop•• of Norwich, London, Salisbury, and Durham, and there were again charged with her••|sy and schism, and therefore a determinate answer was required, whether they would submit them|selves to the Roman bishop, and abjure their errors, or else they would according to their laws proceed to their condemnation.

WHEN Dr. Taylor, Mr. Bradford, and Mr. Saunders, heard this, they answered boldly, that they would not depart from the truth which they had preached in king Edward's days, neither would they submit themselves to the Romish Antichrist; but they thanked God for so great mercy, that he would call them to be worthy to suffer for his word and truth.

WHEN the bishops saw them so bold, and immoveably fixed in the truth, they read the sen|tence of death upon them, which when they heard, they most joyfully gave God thanks, and said unto the bishops: "We doubt not but God the righteous judge will require our blood at your hands; and the proudest of you all shall repent this receiving again of Antichrist, and your tyranny that you now shew against the flock of Christ.

DR. TAYLOR being condemned, was commit|ted to the Clink, and the keepers were charged to keep him straitly: for you have now another manner of charge, said the lord chancellor, than you had before; therefore look you, take heed to it.

WHEN the keeper brought him towards the prison, the people flocked about to gaze upon him; unto whom he said, God be praised, good people, I am come away from them undefiled, and will confirm the truth with my blood. He was confined in the Clink till it was toward night, and then he was removed into the Poultry Compter.

WHEN Dr. Taylor had lain in the Compter a week or thereabouts, on the fourth of February, 1555, Edward Bonner, bishop of London, with others, came to degrade him, bringing with them such ornaments as do appertain to their massing-mummery. Now being come, he called for the said Dr. Taylor to be brought unto him; the bishop being then in the chamber where the keeper of the Compter and his wife lay. So Dr. Taylor was brought down from the chamber above that, to the said Bonner. And at his coming the bishop said, Doctor, I wish you would remember your|self, and turn to your mother holy church, so may you do well enough, and I will sue for your pardon. Whereunto Dr. Taylor answered, I wish you and your fellows would turn to Christ. As for me, I will not turn to Antichrist. Well, said the bish|op, I am come to degrade you: wherefore put on these vestures. No, said Dr. Taylor, I will not. Wilt thou not, said the bishop? I shall make thee ere I go. Said Dr. Taylor, you shall not, by the grace of God. Then he charged him upon his obe|dience to do it, but he would not.

SO he ordered another to put them upon his back, and being thoroughly furnished therewith, he set his hands to his side, walking up and down, and said; How say you, my lord, am not I •• goodly fool? How say you, my masters? If I were in Cheapside, should I not have boys to laugh at these apish toys, and trumpery? So the bishop scraped his fingers, thumbs, and the crown of his head, with the rest of such like childish observances.

AT last, when he would have given Dr Tay|lor a stroke on the breast with his crosier-staff, the bishop's chaplain said, My lord, strike him not, for he will certainly strike again. Yes, by St. Pe|ter will I, said Dr. Taylor. The cause is Christ's, and I were no good christian, if I would not fight in my master's quarrel. So the bishop laid his curse upon him, but struck him not. Then said Dr. T••ylor. Though you do curse me, yet God doth bless 〈◊〉〈◊〉: I have the witness of my conscience, that you have done me wrong and violence, and yet I pray God, if it be his will, forgive you. But from the tyranny of the bishop of Rome, and his detestable enormities, good Lord deliver us. And ••n his g••ing up to his chamber, he sti••l said, God deliver me from you, God deliver me from you. And when he came up, he told Mr. Brad|ford (for they both lay in one chamber) that he had made the bishop of London afraid; for, saith he, laughingly, his chaplain gave him counsel not to strike me with his crosier-staff, for that I would strike again; and, by my troth, said he, rubbing his hands, I made him believe I would so indeed.

THE night after he was degraded, his wife and his son Thomas resorted unto him, and were by the gentleness of the keepers permitted to sup with him. For this difference was ever found between the keepers of the bishop's prison, and the keepers of the king's prisons; that the bishops' keepers were ever cruel, blasphemous, and tyrannous like their masters; but the keepers of the king's prisons shewed, for the most part, as much favour as they possibly might.

WHEN Dr. Taylor's wife, his son, and John Hull his servant, came to sup with him, at their coming, they kneeled down and prayed, saying the litany.

AFTER supper walking up and down, he gave God thanks for his grace, that had so called him, and given him strength to abide by his holy word: and turning to his son Thomas, "My dear son, said he, Almighty God bless thee, and give thee his Holy Spirit, to be a true servant of Christ, to learn his word, and constantly to stand by his truth all thy life long. And, my son, see that thou fear God always. Flee from all sin, and wicked living: be virtuous, serve God with daily prayer, and apply to thy book. In any wise see that thou be obedient to thy mother, love her and serve her: be ruled by her now in thy youth, and follow her good counsel in all things Beware of lewd com|pany, of young men that fear not God, but follow their lewd lusts and vain appetites. Fly from whoredom, and hate all filthy living, remember|ing that I thy father do die in the defence of holy marriage. Another day, when God shall bless thee, love and cherish the poor people, and count that thy chief riches are, to be rich in alms: and when thy mother is waxen old, forsake her not; but provide for her to thy power, and see that she lack nothing: for so will God bless thee, and give

thee long life upon earth and prosperity: which I pray God to grant thee."

THEN turning to his wife, "My dear wife, said he, continue stedfast in the fear and love of God; keep yourself undefiled from their popish idolatries and superstitions. I have been unto you a faith|ful yoke-fellow, and so have you been unto me, for which I pray God to reward you, and doubt not, dear wife, but God will reward it. Now the time is come that I shall be taken from you, and you discharged of the wedlock bond towards me: therefore I will give you my counsel what I think most expedient for you. You are yet a child-bear|ing woman, and therefore it will be most conveni|ent for you to marry. For doubtless you shall never be at a convenient stay for yourself and your poor children, nor out of trouble till you be married. Therefore as soon as God will provide it, marry with some honest faithful man that feareth God. Doubt you not, God will provide an honest husband for you, and he will be a merciful father to our chil|dren, whom I pray you bring up in the fear of God, and in learning, to the utmost of your power, and keep them from this Romish idolatry." When he had thus said, they with weeping tears prayed together, and kissed one another: and he gave to his wife a book of the church-service, set out by king Edward, which he in the time of his impri|sonment daily used. And unto his son Thomas he gave a Latin book, containing the notable sayings of the old martyrs, gathered out of the Ecclesiastical history; and in the end of that book he wrote his testament and last farewel, as here followeth.

The LAST WILL and TESTAMENT of Dr. ROW|LAND TAYLOR, Vicar of HADLEY, in SUFFOLK.

I Say to my wife, and to my children; The Lord gave you unto me, and the Lord hath taken me from you, and you from me: blessed be the name of the Lord. I believe they are blessed who die in the Lord. God careth for sparrows, and for the hairs of our heads. I have ever found him more faithful and favourable, than is any fa|ther or husband. Trust ye therefore in him by the means of our dear Saviour Christ's merits: believe, love, fear, and obey him: pray to him, for he hath promised to help. Count me not dead, for I shall certainly live, and never die. I go before, and you follow after, to our long home. I go to the rest of my children, Susan, George, Ellen, Robert, and Zachary: I have bequeathed you to the only Omnipotent.

I say to my dear friends of Hadley, and to all others who have heard me preach, that I depart hence with a quiet conscience, as touching my doc|trine, for which I pray you thank God with me. For I have, after my little talent, declared to o|thers those lessons that I gathered out of God's book, the blessed Bible. Therefore if I, or an angel from heaven should preach to you any other gospel than that ye have received, God's great curse be upon that preacher.

BEWARE for God's sake that ye deny not God, neither decline from the word of faith, lest God decline from you, and so ye do everlastingly perish. For God's sake beware of popery, for though it appear to have in it unity, yet the same is vanity and antichristianity, and not in Christ's faith and verity.

BEWARE of the sin against the Holy Ghost, now after such a light opened so plainly and so simply, truly, thoroughly, and generally to all England.

THE Lord grant all men his good and holy Spirit, increase of his wisdom, contemning the wicked world, hearty desire to be with God and the heavenly company, through Jesus Christ, our only mediator, advocate, righteousness, life, sanc|tification, and hope, Amen, Amen. Pray, pray.

ROWLAND TAYLOR departing hence in sure hope, without all doubting of eternal salvation, I thank God my heavenly Father, through Je|sus Christ my certain Saviour, Amen.

February 5, 1555.

"THE Lord is my light and my salvation: whom then shall I fear?" Psalm xxvii.1.

"GOD is he that justifieth: who is he that can condemn?" Rom. viii.33, 34.

"IN thee, O Lord, have I trusted, let me ne|ver be confounded." Psal. xxxi.1.

ON the morning after Dr. Taylor had supped with his wife in the Compter, which was the fifth day of February, the sheriff of London with his officers came by two o'clock, and brought forth Dr. Taylor, and without any light led him to the Woolpack, an inn without Aldgate. Dr. Tay|lor's wife, suspecting that her husband would that night be carried away, watched all night in St. Botolph's church-porch without Aldgate, having with her two children, the one named Elizabeth, of thirteen years of age, (who being left without father or mother, Dr. Taylor had charitably brought up from three years old) the other named Mary, Dr. Taylor's own daughter.

WHEN the sheriff and his company came against St. Botolph's church, Elizabeth cried, saying, O my dear father! mother, mother, here is my fa|ther led away. Then his wife said, Rowland, Rowland, where art thou? For it was a very dark morning, that the one could not see the other. Dr. Taylor answered, Dear wife, I am here, and stopped. The sheriff's men would have led him forth; but the sheriff said, Stay a little, masters, I pray you, and let him speak to his wife, and so they staid.

THEN she came to him, and he took his daugh|ter Mary-in his arms; and he, his wife, and Eli|zabeth, kneeled down and said the Lord's prayer. At which sight the sheriff wept much, and so did several others of the company. After they had prayed, he rose up and kissed his wife, and shook her by the hand, and said, Farewel, my dear wife, be of good comfort, for I am quiet in my con|science. God shall stir up a father for my children. And then he kissed his daughter Mary, and said, God bless thee, and make thee his servant: and kissing Elizabeth, he said, God bless thee. I pray you all stand strong and stedfast unto Christ and his word, and beware of idolatry. Then said his wife, God be with thee, dear Rowland, I will with God's grace meet thee at Hadley.

AND so he was led forth to the Woolpack, and his wife followed him. As soon as they came to the Woolpack, he was put into a chamber, where|in he was kept with four yeomen of the guard, and the sheriff's men. Dr. Taylor, as soon as he was come into the chamber, fell down on his knees, and gave himself wholly to prayer. The sheriff then seeing Dr. Taylor's wife there, would in no case grant her to speak any more with her husband, but gently desired her to go to his house and take it as her own, and promised her she should lack no|thing, and sent two officers to conduct her hither. Notwithstanding, she desired to go to her mother's, whither the officers led her, and charged her mo|ther to keep her there till they came again.

DR. TAYLOR remained at the Woolpack, kept by the sheriff and his company, till eleven of the clock; at which time the sheriff of Essex was ready to receive him: and they set him on horseback within the inn, the gates being shut.

AT coming out of the gates, John Hull stood at the rails with Thomas, Dr. Taylor's son. When Dr. Taylor saw them, he called them, say|ing, Come hither, my son Thomas. And John Hull lifted the child up, and set him on the horse before his father: and Dr. Taylor put off his hat, and said to the people that stood there looking on him, Good people, this is mine own son, begotten of my body in lawful matrimony; and God be blessed for lawful matrimony. Then he lifted up his eyes towards heaven and prayed for his son, laid his hat upon his head and blessed him, and so delivered the child to John Hull, whom he took by the hand and said, Farewel John Hull, the faithfullest servant ever man had. And so they rode forth, the sheriff of Essex, with four yeoman of the guard, and the sheriff's men leading them.

WHEN they were come almost to Burntwood, one Arthur Faysy, a man of Hadley, who formerly had been Dr. Taylor's servant, met with them, and he, supposing him to have been at liberty, said, Master, I am glad to see you again at liberty, and came to him and took him by the hand. Sir, returned the sheriff, he is a prisoner; what hast thou to do with him? I crave your mercy, said Arthur, I knew not

so much, and I thought it no offence to talk to a true man. The sheriff was very angry with this, threatened to carry Arthur with him to prison; not|withstanding he bid him get quickly away, and so they rode forth to Burntwood; where they caused to be made for Dr. Taylor a close hood, with two holes for his eyes to look out at, and a slit for his mouth to breathe at. This they did, that no man should know him, nor he speak to any man. Which practice they used also with others. Their own consciences told them, that they led innocent lambe to the slaughter. Wherefore they feared, lest if the people should have heard them speak, or have seen them they might have been much more strengthened by their pious exhortations to stand stedfast in God's word, and to fly the superstitions and idolatries of the papacy.

ALL the way Dr. Taylor was joyful and merry, as one that accounted himself going to a most plea|sant banquet or marriage. He spoke many nota|ble things to the sheriff and yeomen of the guard that conducted him, and often moved them to weep through his much earnest calling upon them to re|pent, and to amend their evil and wicked living. Oftentimes also he caused them to wonder and re|joice, to see him so constant and stedfast, void of all fear, joyful in heart, and glad to die. Of these yeomen of the guard, three used him very friendly, but the fourth (whose name was Holmes) used him very unkindly, and churlishly.

AT Chelmsford the sheriff of Suffolk met them, there to receive him, and to carry him into Suffolk. Being at supper, the sheriff of Essex very earnestly besought him to return to the popish religion, think|ing with fair words to persuade him, and said, Good Doctor, we are right sorry for you, considering what the loss is of such a man as you might be. God hath given you great learning and wisdom; wherefore you have been in great favour and repu|tation in times past with the council and highest of this realm. Besides this, you are a man of goodly personage, in your best strength, and by nature like to live many years, and without doubt, you would in time to come be in as good reputation as ever you were, or rather better, for you are well beloved of all men, as well for your virtues as for your learning: and it were great pity you should cast away your|self willingly, and so come to such a painful and shameful death. You would do much better to re|voke your opinions, and return to the catho•••••• uni|versal church of Rome, acknowledge the pope's holiness to be the supreme head of the ch••••••h, and reconcile yourself to him. Yow may do well yet if you will: doubt you not but you shall find favour at the queen's hands. I and all these your friends, will be suitors for your pardon, which, no doubt, you will obtain; this council I give you, good Doctor, of a good heart, and good-will towards you: and thereupon I drink to you. In like man|ner said all the yeomen of the guard, Upon that con|dition, Doctor, we will all drink to you.

WHEN they had all drank to him, and the ••up was come to him, he staid a little, as one studying what answer he might give. At the last thus he answered and said, Mr. Sheriff, and my masters all, I heartily thank you for your good-will; I have hearkened to your words, and marked well your counsels. And to be plain with you, I do perceive that I have been deceived myself, and am like to de|ceive a great many of Hadley of their expectation. With that word they all rejoiced. Yes, Doctor, said the sheriff, God's blessing on your heart; hold you there still. It is the most comfortable word that we heard you speak yet. What? should you cast away yourself in vain? Play a wise man's part, and I dare warrant you will find favour. Thus they rejoiced very much at the word, and were very merry.

AT last, Good Doctor, said the sheriff, what meant you by this, that you say you have been de|ceived yourself, and think you shall deceive many in Hadley? Would you know my meaning plainly, said he? Yes, said the sheriff, tell it us plainly.

THEN said Doctor Taylor, I will tell you how I have been deceived, and, as I think, I shall deceive a great many. I am, as you see, a man that hath a very great carcass, which I thought should have been buried in Hadley church-yard, if I had died in my bed, as I well hoped I should have done▪ but herein I see I was deceived; and there are a

great number of worms in Hadley church-yard, which should have had jolly feeding upon this car|rion, which they have looked for many a day. But now I know we be deceived, both I and they; for this carcass must be burned to ashes, and so they shall lose their bait and feeding, that they looked to have had of it.

WHEN the sheriff and his company heard him say so, they were amazed and looked one on another, marvelling at the man's constant mind, that thus without all fear made but a jest of the cruel torment, and death now at hand prepared for him. Thus was their expectation clean disappointed. And in this appeareth what was his meditation in wealth and prosperity; namely, that he should shortly die, and feed worms in his grave; which meditation if all our bishops, and spiritual men had used, they had not for all wordly glory forsaken the word of God and truth, which they in king Edward's days had preached and set forth, nor yet to maintain the bishop of Rome's authority, have committed so many to the fire as they did.

BUT let us return to Dr. Taylor, who at Chelms|ford was delivered to the sheriff of Suffolk, and by him conducted to Hadley, where he suffered. When they were come to Lanham, the sheriff staid there two days▪ and thither came to him a great number of gentlemen and justices, who were ap|pointed to aid the sheriff. These gentlemen en|deavoured very much to reduce Dr. Taylor to the Romish religion, promising him his pardon, which, said they, we have here for you. They promised him great promotions, even a bishopric if he would take it: but all their labour and flattering words were in vain. For he had not built his house upon the sand in peril of falling at every puff of wind, but upon the sure and immoveable rock, Christ. Wherefore he abode constant and immoveable to the end.

AFTER two days, the sheriff and his company led Dr. Taylor towards Hadley, and coming within two miles of the town, he desired to light off his horse to make water: which done, he leapt, as men commonly do in dancing. Why, Doctor, said the sheriff, how do you now? He answered, Well, God be praised, good sheriff, never better: for now I know I am almost at home. I lack not past two stiles to go over, and I am even at my father's house. But Mr. Sheriff, said he, shall we not go through Hadley? Yes, said the sheriff. Then said he, O good Lord, I thank thee, I shall yet once ere I die see my flock, whom thou Lord knowest I have most heartily loved, and truly taught: good Lord bless them, and keep them sted|fast in thy word and truth.

WHEN they were come to Hadley, and riding over the bridge, at the bridge-foot waited a poor man with five small children: who when he saw Doctor Taylor, he and his children fell down upon their knees, and held up their hands, and cried with a loud voice, and said, O dear father and good shep|herd Dr. Taylor, God help and succour thee, as thou hast many a time succoured me and my poor children. Such witness had the servant of God of his virtuous and charitable alms given in his life|time. For God would now the poor should testify of his good deeds to his singular comfort, to the example of others, and confusion of persecutors and adversaries. For the sheriff and others that led him to death, were wonderfully astonished, and and rebuked the poor man for so crying. The streets of Hadley were beset on both sides the way with men and women of the town and country, who waited to see him: whom when they beheld so led to death, with weeping eyes and lamentable voices they cried, saying one to another, Ah good Lord! there goeth our good shepherd from us, that so faithfully hath taught us, so fatherly hath cared for us, and so godly hath governed us! O merciful God! what shall we poor scattered lambs do? What shall come of this most wicked world? Good Lord strengthen him, and comfort him: with such other most lamentable and piteous voices. Wherefore the people were rebuked by the sheriff and his men, that led him. And Dr. Taylor repeatedly said to the people; I have preached to you God's word and truth, and am come this day to seal it with my blood.

COMING against the alms-houses, which he well knew, he cast to the poor people money, which re|mained out of what had been given him in the time of his imprisonment. As for his living, they took it from him at his first going to prison, so that he

was sustained all the time of his imprisonment by the charitable alms of good people that visited him.

THEREFORE the money that now remained he put into a glove, ready for the same purpose, and gave it to the poor alms-men standing at their doors to see him. And coming to the last of the alms-houses, and not seeing the poor that dwelt there ready at their doors as the others were, he asked, Is the blind-man and blind-woman that dwelt here, alive? It was answered, Yes, they are within. Then he threw the glove and all in at the window, and rode on.

THUS this good father and provider for the poor now took his leave of those, for whom all his life he had a singular care and love. For this was his custom, once in a fortnight at least, to call upon sir Anthony Doyl, and others of the rich cloth-makers, to go with him to the alms-houses, and there to see how the poor lived; what they lacked in meat, drink, clothing, bedding, or any other necessaries. The like did he also to other poor men that had many children, or were sick. Then would he ex|hort and comfort them, and where he found cause, rebuke the unruly, and what they wanted, that gave he after his power: and what he was not able, he caused the rich and wealthy men to minister unto them. Thus shewed he himself in all things an example to his ••••ock, worthy to be followed; and taught by his deeds, what a great treasure alms is to all such as chearfully for Christ's sake do bestow them.

WHEN Dr. Taylor was arrived at Aldham-Com|mon, the place where he should suffer, seeing a great multitude of people, he asked, What place ••s this, and what meaneth it that so much people are gather|ed hither? It was answered▪ It is Aldham-Com|mon, the place where you must suffer; and the people are come to look upon you. Then said he, Thanked be God, I am even at home, and so a|lighted from his horse, and with both his hands rent the hood from his head.

NOW was his head notched and clipped much like as a man would clip a fool's; which cost the good bishop Bonner had bestowed upon him, when he degraded him. But when the people saw his reverend and ancient face, with a long white beard, they burst out with weeping tears, and cried, say|ing, God save thee, good Dr. Taylor! Jesus Christ strengthen thee, and help thee! the Holy Ghost comfort thee! with such other like good wishes. Then would he have spoken to the people, but the yeomen of the guard were so busy about him, that as soon as he opened his mouth, one or other thrust a tipstaff into his mouth, and would in no wise per|mit him to speak.

THEN he desired licence of the sheriff to speak; but the sheriff denied it to him, and bade him re|member his promise to the council.

WELL, said Dr. Taylor, promise must be kept. What this promise was is unknown: but common fame was, that after he and others were condemned, the council sent for them, and threatened they would cut their tongues out of their heads, except they would promise, that at their deaths they would ke••p silence, and not speak to the people. Wherefore they, desirous to have the use of their tongues, to call upon God as long as they might live, promised silence. For the papists feared much, lest this change of religion, from truth to lies, from Christ's ordinance to th•• popish traditions, should not so quietly have been received as it was, especially this burning of the peachers: but they measuring others minds by their own, feared lest any tumult or ••p|roar might have been stirred, the people having so just a cause not to be contented with their doings, or else (as they most feared) that the people should more have been confirmed, by their pious exhorta|tions, to stand stedfast against their vain popish doc|trine and idolatry. But thanks be to God, who gave to his witnesses, faith and patience, with stout and manly hearts to despise all torments: neither was there so much as any one man that shewed any sign of disobedience towards the magistrates. They shed their blood gladly in defence of the truth, so leaving example unto all men of true and perfect obedience: which is to obey God more than men, and if need require it, to shed their own blood rather than to depart from God's truth.

Dr. TAYLOR perceiving that he could not be suf|fered

to speak, sat down, and seeing one named Soyce, he called him, and said, Soyce, I pray thee come and pull of my boots, and take them for thy labour: thou hast long looked for them, now take them. Then he rose 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and put off his clothes unto his shirt, and gave them away. Which done, he said with a loud voice, Good people, I have taught you nothing but God's holy word, and those lessons that I have taken out of God's blessed book, the Holy Bible: and I am come hither this day to seal it with my blood. With that word, Homes, yeo|man of the guard, who used Dr. Taylor very cruel|ly all the way, gave him a great stroke upon the head, and said, Is that the keeping of thy promise, thou heretic? Then he, seeing they would not permit him to speak, kneeled down and prayed, and a poor woman that was among the people step|ped in and prayed with him; but her they thrust away, and threatened to tread her down with their horses: notwithstanding, she would not remove, but abode and prayed with him. When he had prayed, he went to the stake and kissed it, and set himself into a pitch-barrel, which they had set for him to stand in, and so stood with his back upright against the stake, with his hands folded together, and his eyes towards heaven, and continually prayed.

THEN they bound him with chains, and the she|riff called one Richard Donningham a butcher, and commanded him to set up the faggots: but he re|fused to do it, and said, I am lame, sir, and not able to lift a faggot. The sheriff threatened to send him to prison: notwithstanding, he would not do it.

THEN he appointed one Mulleine of Carsey, a man for his virtues fit to be a hangman, and Soyce a very drunkard, and Warwick, who, in king Ed|ward's days, lost one of his ears for his seditious talk, amongst whom was also one Robert King, a deviser of interludes, who was there present, and had doings there with the gun-powder; what he meant and did therein (he himself said he did it for the best and for quick dispatch) the Lord knoweth, who shall judge all. More of this I have not to say.

THESE four were appointed to set up the faggots, and to make the fire, which they most diligently did; and this Warwick cruelly cast a faggot at him, which struck him on his head, and cut his face, that the blood ran down. Then said Dr. Taylor, O friend, I have harm enough, what needed that?

SIR John Shelton standing by, as Dr. Taylor was speaking, and saying the Psalm Miserere in English, struck him on the lips; You knave, said he, speak Latin, I will make thee. At last they kindled the fire; and Dr. Taylor, holding up both his hands, called upon God, and said, Merciful Father of hea|ven, for Jesus Christ my Saviour's sake, receive my soul into thy hands. So he stood still without either crying or moving, with his hands folded together, till Soyce with an halberd struck him on the head that his brains fell out, and the corps fell down into the fire.

THUS rendered this man of God his blessed soul into the hands of his merciful Father, and to his most dear Saviour Jesus Christ, whom he most in|tirely loved, faithfully and earnestly preached, obe|diently followed in living, and constantly glorified in death.

THEY that were present and familiarly conversant with Dr. Taylor, reported of him, that they never did see in him any fear of death, but especially, and above all the rest who besides him suffered at the same time, always shewed himself merry and chear|ful in the time of his imprisonment, as well before his condemnation, as after: he kept one countenance and like behaviour. Whereunto he was the rather confirmed by the company and presence of Mr. John Bradford, who was in the same prison and chamber with him.

THE morning when he was called up by the she|riff to go to his burning, being suddenly awaked out of his sound sleep, he sat up in his bed, and, putting on his shirt, had these words, speaking somewhat thick after his accustomed manner; Ah vile thieves, ah vile thieves, rob God of his honour? After|wards being risen and tying his points, he cast his arms about a great beam which was in the chamber between Mr. Bradford's bed and his; and there hanging by the hands, said to Mr. Bradford, O Mr. Bradford, what a notable sway I should give if I were hanged! meaning for that he was a corpulent

and big man. These things I thought good here to note, to set forth and declare to those who shall read this history, what a notable and singular gift of spirit and courage God had given to this blessed martyr.

ABOUT the time Dr. Taylor was deprived of his benefice of Hadley, Sir Robert Bracher a pretended protestant in king Edward's days, and afterwards a deadly enemy to the same religion, was one of them that so unmercifully thrust Dr. Taylor's wife and children out of the doors, as she herself hath testi|fied: and notwithstanding the same, since became a protestant again.

A LETTER, From the Rev. Dr. ROWLAND TAYLOR, to his WIFE.

DEAR WIFE, I pray God to be ever with us, through Christ, our only Mediator, Amen.

I am glad that Hadley has skill in judging of such packing ware as was brought thither, the first of May last. The preacher, or rather packer, said, as I hear, that the scripture is full of dark sentences; but it is called of David a candle to our feet, and a light to our paths. Our Saviour calleth his word, the light which evil doers do flee from and hate, lest their deeds should be reproved thereby. St. Paul would have ••s walk as children of light; and not, in any wise, to continue in ignorance or darkness.

NOW as to the packs of this peacher, I fear they were, as all other wares be, changed into stocks, even his very finest packing stuff against justification by faith only, and for the corporal presence of Christ's body, for praying for souls de|parted, and for auricular confession. Abraham's justifica|tion by faith, by grace, by promise, and not by works, is plainly set forth in the epistle to the Romans, chap. iv. and to the Galatian, chap. iii. and Abraham's works of obedi|ence, in offering up his son so long after his justification, must needs be taken as a fruit of a good tree justifying be|fore m••n, and not of justification before God; for then had man to glory in, then did Christ die in vain.

AND whereas chap. vi. of St. John, was alledged to prove, that Christ did give his body corporally in his supper, even as he had promised in the same chapter, it is most untrue, for he only gave his body sacramentally, spiritually, and effectually in his supper to the faithful apostles, and corpo|••••lly he gave it in a bloody sacrifice for the life of the world upon the cross once for all. There in his own person, in his own natural body, he bore all our sins. By whose stripes we are healed, as St. Peter sheweth, 1 Peter ii, and Isa. liii. Indeed receiving Christ's sacrament accordingly as it was instituted, we receive Christ's body and Christ's blood, even as I said before th•• ••postles did.

BUT the popish mass is another matter. The mass, as it is now, is but one of Antichrist's youngest daughters, in which the devil is rather present and received, than our Sa|viour, the second person in the Trinity, God and Man. O Lord God, heavenly Father, for Christ's sake, we beseech thee to turn again England to the right way it was in, in king Edward's time.

BUT to return again to the packer, rather than preacher, he bringeth St. Chrysostom, where he maketh a comparison between Christ's flesh and Elias's cloak cast down to Eli|zeus, when Elias was taken up in the fiery chariot; at length he saith, that Christ, ascending up to heaven, took his flesh with him, and also left his flesh behind him on earth.

THE meaning is, he did ascend with his flesh, and left a memorial cloak of the same body and flesh, which he calleth his flesh, as he in the sacramental phrase calleth bread his body, because it representeth his body: and as in like man|ner of sacramental speech, a lamb was called the passover, the circumcision, God's covenant. He took up his flesh corporally, and left his flesh in mystery and sacrament spi|ritually. Or it may be said, that he left his flesh upon earth, that is, his mystical body, his faithful people; whom St. Paul calleth the members of his body, of his flesh, of his bones, Ephes. v. In the xlix. chapter of Genesis, there is no word of Christ's sacrament, but there is a prophesy of Christ's passion. And where he speaketh there of grapes and wine, it is what is spoken of Christ in another place, where he saith, "I alone did tread the wine-press," mean|ing thereby, that Christ alone suffered painful passion for the remission of sins, and for the consolation of his faithful soldiers.

IT is not true, as the packer said, that Christ's infinite power may make his body to be in a thousand places at once, as a loaf in a thousand bellies: for then may Christ divide the parts of his body, as a loaf is divided, and so con|sumed, and then might scripture be false, appoin••ing Christ's body to be but in one place, Acts iii. Phil. iii. Heb. iii. The articles of our faith tell us sufficiently where Christ's body is. It was never in two places at once, neither ever shall be, neither ever can be corporally and naturally, nei|ther ever was, is, can, o•• shall be eaten so with any corporal mouths, as the Capernaites and the papists most erroneous|ly and heretically do judge. If our Saviour Jesus Christ hath no other body natural than is made of the substance of bread, and is in a thousand places at once, as I have oft••n said in Hadley, we are not yet redeemed, neit••er shall our

bodies rise again, and be made like unto his glorious body. We are sure that our Saviour Christ's body is made of none other substance than of his mother the blessed virgin Mary's substance. We are sure that he taketh not the nature of angels, much less of bread. He only taketh on him the seed of Abraham, Heb. ii. In all things like unto us, sin only excepted. And this is a comfortable doctrine to us christians, believing stedfastly, as the true catholic faith is, that Christ hath but two natures, perfect God, and perfect man. Upon this rock Christ's church is built, and the gates of hell shall never prevail against it, Matt. xvi.

I speak nothing now of auricular confession, and praying for souls departed, because I do not hear what authors the packer brought in for this purpose. Sure I am, that he can bring no authentical and canonical warrant for such his pack-ware. He may say what he will of Hebricians and Grecians, and the flesh under forms, and not above forms, or above the board. He may conjure and convey, pass and repass, even what he will in such clouds and mists. He reproved the scriptures as full of darkness, and yet is full of darkness himself. He did wittily, to bring proofs out of Jewry, Turkey, and other strange places, for his round white cake, for that such his pedlary pelf-pack is contrary to the plain simplicity of Christ's supper. He glanced at priests' marriage. He might against that have brought as ancient a doctor as any alledged out of Hebrew, for his mass and wafer cake, that is Dr. Devil. 1 Tim. 4.

I wonder that he did not confute and confound St. Paul for the sentences written above the altar, of which he made mention in the pulpit. For he and his fellows are so pro|found, so excellent, so glorious, and triumphant clerks, that they can easily prove a man an ass, and writers in the bible ignorant, simple, full of errors, full of heresies, and beggarly fools. Yet they will be called loving, faithful, and true christian people, defenders of the holy mother the church: but truly they take part with the prince of darkness, with Antichrist, with Jezebel, Apoc. ii. They will not be call|ed Papists, Pharisees, Jews, Turks, Heretics, and so forth: but whatsoever they will be called, God's religion had never more evident adversaries, and that in all the chief points of it; no not then, when our Saviour Christ whipt such mer|chants out of the temple, calling them a company of thieves, Matt. xxi. God give them grace to repent. God be thanked that the nobility something of late hath spied and stopped their tyranny. O unhappy England! O more un|grateful people! sooner bewitched than the foolish Gala|tians. We have now no excuse.

WE have undoubtedly seen the true trace of the prophe|tical, apostolical, primitive catholic church. We are warn|ed to beware, lest we are led out of that way, society, and rule of religion. Now we shall shew what countrymen we are, whether spiritual an heavenly, or carnal and worldly. We had as true knowledge as ever was in any country, or at any time, since the beginning of the world, God be praised therefore. If Hadley, being so many years persuaded in such truth, will now forsake the same, and defile itself with the cake-god, idolatry, and other antichristianity thereunto belonging, let it surely look for many and wonderful plagues of God shortly. Though another have the bene|fice, yet, as God knoweth, I cannot but be careful for my dear Hadley. And therefore as I could not but speak, after the first abominable mass begun there, I being present no more, cannot but write now being absent, hearing of the wicked profanation of my late pulpit by such a wiley wolf. God's love, mercy, goodness, and favour, hath been un|speakable, in teaching us the right way of salvation and justi|fication: let us all have some zeal, some care how to serve him according to his good will written. The God of love and peace be ever in Hadley, through Christ our only ad|vocate. Amen.

CHAP. IV. An Affecting Narrative, and Historical Account of the several PROTESTANTS, namely, Judge HALES, THOMAS TOMKINS, WILLIAM HUNTER, THOMAS CAUSTON, THO|MAS HIGBED, WILLIAM PYGOT, STEPHEN KNIGHT, and JOHN LAURENCE; who was persecuted, tormented, and most of them burned, under the bloody Tyranny of BONNER, Bishop of LONDON.

STEPHEN GARDINER, having condemned and burned several great and learned men, he presumed, that these examples would deter any one from speaking against, and opposing the popish reli|gion, and his tyrannical proceedings; but in this imagination he found himself deceived: for within

eight or nine days after sentence had passed against bishop Hooper and others, being the 8th of Febru|ary, six other good christians were likewise brought before the bishops, to be examined for the same cause of religion. Stephen Gardiner seeing this became discouraged; and from that day meddled no more in such kind of condemnations; but referred the whole of this cruel business to Bonner, bishop of London; who supplied that part, as in the further process of this history will evidently appear. Bishop Bonner having taken the matter in hand, called be|fore him in his consistory at St. Paul's (the lord mayor, and several aldermen sitting with him) the six persons, upon the 8th day of February, and on the next day, being the 9th, read the sentence of condemnation upon them, as appeareth in bishop Bonner's own registers: such quick speed these men could make in dispatching their business at once. But because the death of these condemned martyrs did not follow before the next month of March, we will defer the prosecuting of their matter, till we come to the time and day of their suffering.

WHAT was the cause that their execution was so long deferred after their condemnation, we cannot precisely say, unless peradventure the sermon of Al|phonsus, the Spanish friar, and the king's confessor▪ did some good; for when those six persons were cast upon Saturday the 9th of February, upon the day following, the 10th of February, the said Al|phonsus preached before the king; in which sermon he did earnestly inveigh against the bishops for burning of men, saying plainly that they learned it not in scripture, to burn any for his conscience; but the contrary, that they should live and be convert|ed: with many other things more to the same purport.

FEBRUARY 14, Dr. Robert Ferrar, bishop of St. David's, was sent towards St. David's, there to be condemned and executed. Touching whose mar|tyrdom, forasmuch as it fell not before the month of March, we will defer the history thereof till we come to the day and time of his sufferings.

ON the 14th day of February, the lord chancellor, and other bishops, caused the image of Thomas Becket to be set up over the mercer's chapel door, in Cheapside, London, in the form and s••ape of a bishop, with mitre and cross. But within two days after his erection, his two blessing fingers were first broken away, and on the next day (being the 17th of February) his head also was taken off: where|upon arose great trouble, and many were suspected: among whom one Mr. John Barnes, mercer, dwel|ling over-against the said chapel, was vehemently by the lord chancellor charged withal, as the doer thereof, and the rather for that he was a professor of the truth. Wherefore he and three of his servants were committed to prison; and at his delivery, al|though it could not be proved upon him, he was bound in a great sum of money, as well to build it up again as often as it should be broken down, as also to watch and keep the same. And therefore the image was again set up the 2d day of March ensuing; but the 14th day of the same month, i•• the night, the head was again the second time broke off: which thing was so heinously taken, that the next day, being the 15th, there was a proclamation made in London, that whosoever would tell who did strike off his head, (though he were of counsel, and not the principal doer) he should have not only his pardon, but also one hundred crowns of gold, with hearty thanks. But it was not known who did it.

FEBRUARY 18th, queen Mary at length, after long delay, made full answer to the king of Den|mark's letters, who had written before two letters to the queen, in the behalf of Mr. Cove••dale▪ for his deliverance, who at that time went under sure|ties, and was in great danger, had he not been rescued by the suit and letters of the said king of Denmark.

THE matter and copy of his suit and letters, as they came to our hands, we have here set forth and expressed, whereby the singular love of this good king, towards the truth of God's word, and the professors thereof, might the better appear to the world.

FIRST, This virtuous and pious king Christianus, hearing of the captivity of Miles Coverdale, of whom he had had some knowledge before▪ (being there in Denmark in king Henry the eighth's time) and lamenting his dangerous case, and partly thro' the intercession of Mr. Machabaeus, superintendant

in Denmark, who was somewhat related to Mr. Co|ver dale's wife, made intercession by letter, to queen Mary, desiring and requesting the said Miles Co|verdale to be sent unto him. The date of which his letters was about the month of May, 1554. The copy whereof, now translated into English, here followeth.

LETTER I. From CHRISTIANUS, King of DENMARK, to MARY I. Queen of ENGLAND, &c. in behalf of the Rev. Dr. MILES COVERDALE, Bishop of EXETER.

CHRISTIANUS, by the grace of God, King of Den|mark, Norway, &c. to the most noble and most migh|ty princess and lady Mary, queen of England, France, and Ireland, our most dea••ly-beloved cousin, wisheth prosperity. Most noble princess, considering the mutual affinity and alliance, not only of our royal name, but also of our kin|d••ed, especially for that it has for a long continuance of time been propagated and preserved on both sides in these our realms, as well as for the mutual commerce and faith|fulness which has been kept up by us in all kind offices; we cannot but write to your majesty in regard to the piety and excellent literature of the truly reverend Mr. John Machabaeus, doctor and egregious professor of divi|nity, our well-beloved subject and minister, being moved hereto by his humble supplications and intreaties; who has declared to us, that in the late disorder and commotion of the kingdom of England (which that it has happened we are hear••••ly sorry, and now hope it will prove for the better) ou•• Miles Coverdale, late of the diocese of Exon, of piou•• and laudable memory, constituted bishop by the authority of the last king your majesty's brother, and our dearly-beloved co••sin, that he [the said Miles 〈◊〉〈◊〉] is now involved in most dreadful cal••mity, in prison, and d••nger of his life, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 no heniou•• offence committed, but by reason of the fatal destruction of the times. Which things thi•• our trusty s••b|ject Machabaeus, being a-kin O him, and (which is more grievous) like him in piety, learning, and moralit••, as a kind brother, reckons to appertain to himself. And there|••••••e he implores our assistance to bestow upon him that favour and kindness he deserves, by endeavouring to ••id him from his afflictions because he is innocent. We are indeed (and not without reason) moved with compassion on the man, whom for his merit we greatly respect, and chiefl•• for the testimony he gives of the innocence and integrity of the imprisoned prelate; of which indeed there is so much the more reason to hope, because (though many guilt•• per|sons have already suffered death) you have still preserved him alive. Wherefore we have been easily p••••s••aded earnestly to beseech your majesty for our sake to deal gent|ly with your prisoner, Mr. Coverdale, and that it may please you to deliver him as well from the imputation of villainy, as from the fierceness of punishment, and that the offences of the times, whereat it is likely he is also troubled, through our intreaty, especially this being the first time, may be by you graciously forgiven: so far at least, that if peradventure in this state of affairs his presence seem griev|ous to you, he may with his friends be safely dismissed to our dominions. The granting of which will be taken as a very great favour by us, and will redound to your majesty's clemency throughout your flourishing kingdoms: which that they may be always prosperous, and profitable to your majesty, we heartily pray: and will do our endeavour, when we have understood what regard you pay to our royal amity and friendship, the more earnestly to labour to re••••|liate those favours, by expressing our gratitude in all kind offices to your majesty and your whole realm.

GOD grant that for his glory and the public safety, your majesty may be crowned with prosperous success in all things, and may yourself be in perpetual security.

Given at our Tower, at Colding, May 25, 1554.

Your cousin, brother, and friend, CHRISTIANUS, R.

TO this letter of the king, queen Mary answered again, declaring that the said Miles Coverdale was not imprisoned for religion, but for a certain debt; so neither plainly granting, nor expressly denying his request, but using a colourable excuse for shift|ing off the matter, as appeareth by his second let|ter sent to the queen, dated September 24, as fol|loweth.

LETTER II. From the same to the same, in behalf of the Rev. Dr. MILLS COVERDALE.

CHRISTIANUS, by the grace of God, king of Den|mark, Norway, &c. to the most noble princess and lady Mary, queen of England, France, and Ireland, our most d••a••ly beloved sister, and cousin, wisheth prosperity with good success of all things.

WE have received your majesty's letter, whereby an|swer is rendered, and that very graciously, unto our peti|tion which we made for the safeguard of Mr. Coverdale, late called bishop of Exon. So that we perceive, though he be in danger for another cause than was signified unto us be|fore, yet your majesty will so regard our intercession, that

Coverdale himself shall understand it to have done him good. To which regal promise, seeing we (as reason would we should do) attribute so much, that trusting unto the same, we doubt not, whereas he being in captivity, his friends, whom we especially tender, are therefore in heavi|ness and care, your good promise doth call them from such sorrow and solicitude, to the hope and expectation of his as|sured welfare: we could not do otherwise, but render thanks unto your majesty for such your ready and gracious good will, not only in respect of this benefit, but also of the con|versation and keeping of perpetual amity between us and our realms, and so, as much as in us lieth, to omit nothing that might conduce to the nourishing and continuance of these fortunate beginnings. Neither had we ever any doubt concerning the clemency and moderation of your goodness, whom we heartily beseech Almighty God ever more to prosper, unto the glory of his name, and profit of the common-wealth. Wherefore seeing your ma|jesty writeth, that Mr. Coverdale is in danger for certain accounts of money, and not for any other more grievous offence, we have cause on his behalf to rejoice: and there|fore we doubt so much the less, that at our request he shall graciously have his deliverance given him, and be out of danger. For as touching the bishopric, by reason whereof he came in debt, we understand he yielded it up, that no payment might thereof be required, specially seeing he is re|puted neither to have enjoyed it long, nor to have had at any time so great commodity of it. Moreover, though it be possible to find some perplexity in the account, or happily some other cause, yet your majesty's letters, offering such favour and benignity, have taken from us all carefulness and doubt: insomuch, that we think your majesty, as much as may be, will have more respect unto our honour, than to that which might of him be required. And therefore we purpose not to trouble your majesty by repeating of our petition, but to declare how greatly we esteem it, that your majesty would gratify us herein: whereof we plainly hope for an end, that Coverdale himself shall shortly in our pre|sence make declaration concerning the benefit of his wel|fare obtained of your majesty. And of this we desire your majesty to be specially assured again, that we will not only omit no occasion or opportunity to requite this benefit, but also to establish and amplify our mutual love and amity be|tween us and our realms on either side. Almighty God pre|serve your majesty in prosperous health and felicity.

Given at our city of Otton. Sept. 24, 1554.

Your brother and cousin, CHRISTIANUS, R.

IT was a great while before the queen made an|swer to these letters. At length after great suit made, the next year, February 18, she answered a|gain in this wise.

Queen MARY'S ANSWER, to the King of Denmark's LETTERS.

TO the most serene prince Christianus, by the grace of God, king of Denmark, &c. duke of Sleswick, &c. earl of Oldenburgh, &c. our most dear brother and friend.

MARY, by the grace of God, queen of England, France, Naples, Jerusalem, Ireland, &c. to the most serene prince Christianus, by the same grace of God, king of Den|mark, Norway, and of the Vandals; duke of Sleswick, Holston, Stormar, and Detmarsh; earl of Oldenburgh and Delmenhorst, &c. our most dear friend and brother, wish|eth health and increase of prosperity. When we under|stood by your letters (which this messenger has brought us) your desire of obtaining leave for Mr. Coverdale to depart from our kingdom into your's, we readily granted your desire; and although he is our born subject, and is not as yet discharged from a debt which he lawfully owes to our exchequer, yet we have regarded your desire before our own debt, and shall for our mutual friendship at all times when opportunity serves endeavour to gratify your majesty. May God long preserve your serene highness in health.

Given at our Court at Westminster, February, 18, 1555.

ON February 19, there was a certain intimation set forth, and printed in the name of bishop Bonner, wherein was contained a general monition, and strict charge given to every man and wowan within his diocese, to prepare themselves against Lent, then near approaching, to receive the glad tidings of peace and reconciliation sent from the pope, Ju|lius III. by Poole, his cardinal and legate.

The DECLARATION of the Bishop of London, to be published to the LAY-PEOPLE of his Diocese, con|cerning their RECONCILIATION.

EDMUND, by the permission of God, bishop of Lon|don, unto all and singular the lay-people of his dio|cese, doth send greeting in our Saviour Jesus Christ.

WHEREAS this noble realm of England, dividing itself from the unity of the catholic church, and from the agree|ment in religion with all other christian realms, hath been, besides many other miseries and plagues, which God's in|dignation hath poured upon it, grie••ously also vexed, and sore infected with many and sundry sorts of sects of heretics, as Arians, Anabaptists, Libertines, Zuinglians, Lutherans, and many others, all which sects are most repugnant, and contrary one against another, and all against God's truth, and Christ's catholic faith; whereupon hath grown such

slander to the realm, such malice and disagreement among ourselves, the inhabitants thereof, such treasons, tumults, and insurrections against our prince, such blasphemy and dishonour unto God, as no man's tongue or pen is able to express: it hath pleased the goodness of God to cast his eye of mercy and clemency upon us, and to move the pope's holiness to send his most godly messenger, the most reverend father in God, the lord cardinal Poole, legate to bring us the glad tidings of peace and reconciliation, and to reduce and bring home unto the fold the lost sheep that were gone astray: whose message, as it hath been honourably received of the king and queen's majesties, even so the lords spiritual and temporal, and commons at the last parliament, have re|ceived it, revoking all laws which in the time of schism were promulgated against the authority of the pope's holi|ness, and restoring the same, and the church of Rome to all that power which they had in this realm before the said schism; which reconciliation was also most gladly and joy|fully embraced, as well of all the clergy and convocation of the province of Canterbury, as also of many other per|sons, and being so great and necessary to be extended to e|very person of the realm, it hath pleased the said lord legate's grace to give and impart unto me the said bishop of Lon|don, for my said diocese, and to all such as I shall appoint in that behalf, power and authority to absolve and reconcile all and every person thereof, as well of the clergy and laity, and as well men as women, who will renounce their errors, and, being penitent, will humbly require to be restored to the unity of the catholic church, as by the letters of the said lord legate's grace sent unto me, and from me sent unto every of the archdeacons within my diocese, more at large may and doth appear. And forasmuch as in mine own per|son, as well for the multitude of people, as distance of pla|ces, I cannot minister this benefit unto every private person myself, and for that also the holy time of Lent is now at hand, in which every true christian man ought to come unto his own pastor and curate, to be of him confessed, and to receive at his hand wholesome council, penance, and ab|solution; these are therefore as well to give knowledge unto every one of you, as also to signify and declare, that for that purpose, I have by the said authority chosen, named, and deputed, and so by these presents do chuse and depute all and singular pastors and curates, having cure of souls within my diocese, and being themselves reconciled herein, that they and every of them, by authority hereof, shall have full power and authority to absolve all such as be lay-persons of their parishes from heresy and schism, and from the cen|sures of the church, into which they are fallen by occasion thereof also, and to reconcile to the church all such who shall declare themselves penitent, and desirous to enjoy the bene|fit of the said reconciliation. And whereas divers pastors and curates in sundry parishes peradventure be not able to satisfy the minds, and to app••ase the consciences of some of their parishioners in cases that shall trouble them, I have there|fore given also authority to every archdeacon of my diocese with his archdeacon••y, to name and appoint certain of the best learned in every deanery of their archdeaconry, to sup|ply that lack, so that every man so troubled may repair to any one of them within the said deanery, whom he shall like best, to be instructed and appeased in that behalf. And al|so I have appointed, that if this being done, there shall yet remain any scruple in the party's conscience, and himself not satisfied, then the said party shall repair unto one of my archdeacons or chaplains, unto whom his mind shall be most inclined, or else to repair unto mine own self, to be resolved in his said scruple or doubt, and to receive and take such or|der therein, as to one of the said archdeacons, or unto me, shall therein appear to be most expedient.

FURTHER certifying and declaring unto you, that I have given commandment herein to all my archdeacons, that they admonish and command every pastor and curate within their archdeaconries, that they, having knowledge hereof, do on the first holiday next then following, at the mass time, when the multitude of people is present, declare all these things unto the parishioners, and exhort them that they esteem this grace accordingly, and reconcile themselves to the church before the first Sunday after Easter next ensuing: which thing I also do command by the tenor hereof, with intimation that the said time being once past, and they not so reconciled, every one of them shall have process made against him, according to the canons, as the cause shall require: for which purpose the pastors and curates of every parish shall be commanded by the archdeacon, to certify to me in writing of every man and women's name that is not so reconciled.

FURTHER, herewith I do signify and declare unto you, that our holy father Pope Julius III. of that name, like a most tender and natural father, hearing of the return and recovery of his prodigal child, this realm of England, hath himself made much joy and gladness hereat, and also all other true christian realms have done the like. Exhorting you therefore in our Lord not to be unthankful yourselves, or negligent in this behalf, but diligently to seek for it, joy|fully to embrace it, and fruitfully to use it, remembering withal the monition and charge which came from me the last year, concerning your coming to confession in Lent, and receiving the sacrament at Easter: which monition to all effects and purposes I have now here repeated and re|newed, charging you, and also all your curates therewith. And because it is all our duties earnestly and devoutly to pray for the prosperous state of our sovereigns, the king and the queen of this realm, I do finally require and pray you, as heartily as I can, to pray for their majesties accordingly; and especially that it may please Almighty God, to send unto her grace a good time, and to make her a glad mother, which cannot be but unto us all great joy, much comfort, and inestimable profit. Given at London the 19th day of February, in the year of our Lord God, after the computa|tion of the church of England, 1554, and of my translation the 16th.

The FORM of ABSOLUTION, to be kept by the Pastors and Curates in private Confessions, concerning this RECONCILIATION.

OUR Lord Jesus Christ absolve you, and by the aposto|lic authority to me granted and committed, I absolve you from the s••ntences of excommunication, and from all other censures and pains, into which you are fallen by rea|son of heresy, or schism, or any other ways: and I restore you unto the unity of our holy mother the church, and the communion of all sacraments, dispensing with you for all manner of irregularity: and by the same authority I absolve you from all your sins, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

A remarkable and affecting Account of JUDGE HALES, whom the Cruelty of GARDINER drove to an Act of Desperation.

IN the life of bishop Hooper, mention was made of judge Hales, of whom we shall more parti|cularly speak in this place; beginning with the conference between the bishop of Winchester and him, declaring withal how false the excuse is of the papists, who so precisely by the law, defend themselves, and say that in all their do|ings they did nothing but by the law, to bear them out. Which if it be so, how did they to Anne Askew? What law had they, when they had condemned her, afterwards to rack her? By what law did they call up Mr. Hooper, and im|prison him for the queen's debt, when the queen owed him fourscore pounds, and kept him a year and a half in prison, and gave him never a penny? By what law did Bishop Bonner condemn and burn Richard Mekins, a lad of 15 years, when the first jury had acquitted him, and he at the stake revoked all heresies, and praised the said Bonner to be a good man; and also having him in prison, would not suffer his father and mother to come to him, to comfort their own child? What law had they to put Mr. Rogers in prison, when he did neither preach nor read lectures after the time of the queen's prohibition, and when they had kept him in his own house half a year, being not deprived of his living, yet would not let him have a shilling of his own livings to relieve him, his wife, and eleven children? By what law was Thomas Tomkins's hand burnt, and afterwards his body consumed to ashes? What good law or honesty was there to burn three poor women at Guernsey, with the in|fant child falling out of the mother's womb, when they all before their death had recanted their words and opinions, and were never abjured before? So here likewise in this case, what order or right of laws did Stephen Gardiner follow in troubling and imprisoning judge Hales, when he had done no|thing either against God's law or man's, in pro|ceeding by order of law against certain presumptu|ous persons, who both before the law, and against the law then in force, took upon them to say their mass? The truth of all which fully appears in the following facts and records.

A CONFERENCE between STEPHEN GARDINER, Bi|shop of WINCHESTER, the then LORD CHANCEL|LOR, and Judge HALES, he being in Westminster|hall, with other Judges, to take his Oath, October 6th, 1553.

LORD CHAN.

MR. Hales, you are to un|derstand, that as the queen's highness hath heretofore conceived a good opinion of you, especially for that you stood both faithfully, and lawfully in her cause of just succession, refusing to set your hand to the book among others that were against her grace in that behalf; so now, through your own late deserts against some of her highness's proceedings, you stand not well in her grace's favour; and therefore before you take any oath, it will be necessary for you to clear yourself.

J. HALES.

I pray you, my lord, for what cause.

L. CHAN.

Information is given, that you have indicted several priests in Kent for saying mass.

J. HALES.

My lord, it is not so, I indicted none; but certain indictments of the like nature were brought before me at the last asszes there held, and I gave order therein as the law required. For I have professed the law, against which, in cases of justice, I will never, God willing, proceed, nor in any wise dissemble, but with the same shew forth my conscience; and if it were to do again, I would do no less than I did.

L. CHAN.

Yes, Mr. Hales, your conscience

is known well enough; I know you want not conscience.

J. HALES.

My lord, you may do well to search your own conscience, for mine is better known to myself than to you: and to be plain, I did as well use justice in your said mas•• case by my conscience, as by law, wherein I am fully bent to stand trial to the uttermost that can be objected. And if I have herein done any injury or wrong, let me be judged by the law; for I will seek no better de|fence, considering that it is chiefly my profession.

L. CHAN.

Why, Mr. HALES, although you had the rigour of the law on your side, you might have had regard to the queen's highness's present doings in that case. And further, although you seem to be more than precise in the law, yet I think you would be very loth to yield to the extremity of such advantage as might be gathered from your proceedings in the law, as you have sometimes taken upon you in place of justice; and if it were well tried, I believe you should not well be able to stand honestly thereto.

J. HALES.

My lord, I am not so perfect, but I may err for want of knowledge. But both in conscience, and such knowledge of the law as God hath given me, I will do nothing but I will main|tain it, and abide in it: and if my goods and all that I have be not able to counterpoise the case, my body shall be ready to serve the turn; for they be all at the queen's highness's pleasure.

L. CHAN.

Ah sir, you be very quick and stout in your answers. But as it should seem, that which you did was more of favouring the opinion of your religion against the service now used, than for any occasion or zeal for justice, seeing the queen's highness doth set it forth as yet, wishing all her subjects to embrace it accordingly: and where you offer both body and goods in your trial, there is no such matter required at your hands▪ and yet you shall not have your own will neither.

J. HALES.

My lord, I desire not an obstinate will, but to shew my love to God, and obedience to the queen's majesty, in whose cause willingly for justice sake, all other respects set apart, I did of late, as your lordship knoweth, adventure as much as I had. And as for my religion, I trust it be such as pleaseth God, wherein I am ready to adventure as well my life as my substance, if I be called thereunto. And so instead of my own pow|er and will, the Lord's will, will be fulfilled.

L. CHAN.

Seeing you be at this point, Mr. Hales, I will presently make an end with you. The queen's highness shall be informed of your opinion and declaration. And as her grace shall thereunto determine, you shall have knowledge. Until such time you may depart as you came, without your oath; for as it appeareth, you are scarce worthy the place appointed.

J. HALES.

I thank your lordship: and as for my vocation, being both a burden and a charge more than ever I desired to take upon me; when|soever it shall please the queen's highness to ease me thereof, I shall most humbly with due content obey the same; and so he departed from the bar.

A few days after, Mr. Hales, at the command of the bishop, was committed to the King's-Bench, where he remained constant until Lent; then he was removed to the Compter in Bread-street, and from thence to the Fleet.

BEING in the Fleet, what it was that he had granted the bishops, by their fraudulent assaults and persuasions, (namely, of Dr. Day, bishop of Chester, and of judge Portman, as it is thought, overcome at last) I have not to say. This is cer|tain, that shortly after, he was brought to great repentance and terror of conscience: insomuch, that for very anguish of heart he was ready to kill himself with his penknife when he was in prison.

IT happened when supper-time came that he should be called down, but he having little or no stomach to eat or drink, went immediately to bed, where he lay all night sobbing and groaning, and took little rest or sleep. At length when morning came, about six o'clock, he sent his servant for a cup of beer, under pretence as though he was thirsty and desirous to drink; whether this cause were true or feigned, is unknown; but his man was scarce got out of the chamber, when he with his

penknife had wounded himself in divers places of his body, and, no doubt, intended to destroy him|self; but his man meeting the butler, just when he had passed the chamber-door, the latter was desired to fill the drink, and he taking the cup, the other returned again unto his master, at the very time when he was working his own destruction; whereby Mr. Hales was hindered of his purpose. When the bishop of Winchester had knowledge of it, he straightway thereby took occasion to blaspheme the doctrine of the gospel, which he openly called the doctrine of desperation. Mr. Hales being within a while after recovered of those wounds, and delivered out of prison, returned home to his house; where he, either for the great|ness of his sorrow, or for want of good counsel, or for that he would avoid the necessity of hearing mass, having all things set in order, a good while before that, pertaining to his last will and testa|ment, casting himself into a shallow river, was drowned therein.

THE unhappy end of this worthy judge was the cause of great sorrow and grief to all good men, and it likewise gave occasion to some divines to doubt with themselves, whether he was reprobate or saved. But notwithstanding God's judgments be secret, and we likewise in doubt upon what intent he did thus punish himself; neither again is any man certain, whether he did repent or not before the last breath went out of his body; I think (saith Mr. Fox) their opinion is more indifferent herein, who do rather disallow the example of the deed, than despair of his salvation.

OTHERWISE, if we will judge all those to hell that have departed the world after this sort, how many examples have we, in the first persecutions of the church, of those men and women, who be|ing registered in the works of worthy writers, have notwithstanding their praise and commendation? Or what shall we think of those young men, who being sought for to do sacrifice to idols, did cast themselves down headlong, and break their own necks, to avoid such horrible pollutions of them|selves? What shall we say of those virgins of An|tioch, who, to the end they might not defile themselves with uncleanliness and idolatry, through the per|suasion of their mother, casting themselves headlong into a river together with their mother, did destroy themselves, although not in the same water, yet after the same manner of drowning as this Mr. Hales did? What shall we say of the other two sisters, who for the same reason did violently throw themselves into the sea, as Eusebius doth record? In whom though perchance there was no less confidence to bear out the pains which should be ministered unto them by the wicked, yet, their good desire to keep their faith and religion unspot|ted was commended and praised.

WE mention these examples neither to excuse nor to defend the heinous act of judge Hales, which we could wish might be drowned in oblivion: and because we do not know, nor are we able to comprehend the bottomless depth of the graces and mercies which are in Christ Jesus our Saviour, we will leave therefore the final judgment of him, to the determination of him who is appointed judge both of the quick and dead.

A VERSE on Judge HALES.

HAD faith and piety sincere conjoin'd, Adorn'd the moral virtues of thy mind, Thy body sound and strong would yet remain, And thou 'mongst saints the chiefest place would gain. But who so leads his life from sin so free, That all his actions unpolluted be? Then seeing blemishes deform the best Thy own endeavour do, commit to God the rest.

The MARTYRDOM of the SIX PRISONERS before mentioned, namely, TOMKINS, PYCOT, KNIGHT, LAURENCE, HUNTER, and HIC••D.

I. The HISTORY and MARTYRDOM of THOMAS TOM|KINS, a Weaver in Shoreditch, who, having first his Hand burned by the bloody Bishop of LON|DON, was afterwards burnt in Smithfield, March 16th, 1555.

THIS plain honest christian was by trade a weaver, and lived in the parish of Shoreditch, till he was summoned before the inhuman Bonner,

and confined with many others, who renounced the errors of popery, in a prison in that tyrant's house at Fulham.

UNDER his confinement, he was treated by the bishop, not only unbecoming a prelate, but even a man: for the savage, because Tomkins would not assent to the doctrine of transubstantiation, had brui|sed him in the face, and plucked off the greatest part of the hair of his head.

ON another occasion, this scandal to humanity, because our martyr remained inflexible, nor would deviate in the least point from the pure and uncor|rupted truths of the gospel, in the presence of se|veral who came to visit him at his seat at Fulham, took this poor honest man by the fingers, and held his hand directly over the flame of a wax candle, having three or four wicks, supposing that, being terrified by the smart and pain of the fire, he would leave off the defence of the doctrine which he had received.

TOMKINS thinking no otherwise, but there pre|sently to die, began to commend himself unto the Lord, saying, O Lord into thy hands I commend my spirit, &c. In the time that his hand was burning, the same Tomkins afterwards reported to one James Hinse, that his spirit was so wrapt, that he felt no pain. In which burning he never shrunk, till the veins shrunk, and the sinews burst, and the waters did spurt in Mr. Harpsfield's face: in|somuch that Mr. Harpsfield, moved with pity, desired the bishop to stay, saying, that he had tried him enough.

The First Examinat•••••• ••f THOMAS TOMKINS.

AFTER that Thomas Tomki••s had been half a year in prison, about the ••th of February he was brought with several others before bishop Bonner sitting in his consistory, to be examined. To whom first was brought forth a certain bill or schedule subscribed ••a•• appeareth with his own hand, the 5th day of the same month, containing these words following.

"THOMAS TOMKINS of Shoreditch, and of the diocese of London, hath believed and doth believe, that in the sacrament of the altar, under the forms of bread and wine, there is not the very body and blood of our Saviour Jesus Christ in substance, but only a token and remembrance thereof, the very body and blood of Christ being only in heaven and no where else.

By me Thomas Tomkins."

WHEREUPON he was asked, whether he did ac|knowledge the same subscription to be of his own hand. To which he granted, confessing it so to be. This being done, the bishop went about to persuade him with fair words, rather than with reasons, to relinquish his opinions, and to return again to the unity of the catholic church, promising if he would do so, to remit all that was past. But he constantly refused so to do. When the bishop saw he could not so convince him, he brought forth and read to him another writing, containing articles and inter|rogatories, whereunto he should come the next day and answer; in the mean time he should deliberate with himself what to do: and so the next day, be|ing the 9th day of March, at eight o'clock in the morning to be present in the same place again, to give his determinate answer what he would do in the premises, and then either to revoke and reclaim him••elf, or else in the afternoon of the same day to come again and have justice (as he called it) admi|nistered unto him. The copy of which articles here followeth.

ARTICLES objected and administered the 8th Day of February, against THOMAS TOMKINS, with his own Hand subscribed to the same.

THOU dost believe, that in the sacrament of the altar, under the forms of bread and wine, there is not by the omnipotent power of Almighty God, and his holy word, really, truly, and in very deed, the very true and natural body of our Saviour Jesus Christ as touching the substance thereof, which was conceived in the womb of the virgin Mary, and hanged upon the cross, suffering death there for the life of the world.

I do so believe.

THOU dost believe, that after the consecration of

the bread and wine prepared for the use of the sa|crament of the altar, there doth remain the substance of material bread and material wine, not changed nor altered in substance by the power of Almighty God, but remaining as it did before.

I do so believe.

THOU dost believe, that it is an untrue doctrine, and a false belief, to think or say, that in the sacra|ment of the altar there is, after consecration of the bread and wine, the substance of Christ's natural body and blood, by the omnipotent power of Al|mighty God, and his holy word.

I do so believe.

THOU dost believe that thy parents, kinsfolks, friends, and acquaintance, and also thy godfathers and godmothers, and all people did err, and were deceived, if they did believe, that in the sacrament of the altar there was, after consecration, the body and blood of Christ, and that there did not remain the substance of material bread and wine.

I do so believe.

By me Thomas Tomkins.

The Second Examination of THOMAS TOMKINS.

THE next day being the 9th of February, at eight o'clock before noon, Thomas Tomkins was brought again before the bishop and his other assistants, where the aforesaid articles were pro|pounded unto him: whereunto he answered as followeth:

TO the first he said, that he did so believe, as in the same is contained.

TO the second he said, that it was only bread and a participation of Christ's death and passion, and so do the scriptures teach.

TO the third he said, he did believe it was a false doctrine, to believe and think as is contained in this article.

TO the fourth, he did also believe the same.

AFTER this answer, he did also subscribe his name to the said articles. Whereupon, the bishop draw|ing out of his bosom another confession subscribed with Tomkins's own hand, and also that article that was the first day objected against him, caused the same to be openly read, and then willed him to re|voke and deny his said opinions, which he utterly refused to do; and therefore he was commanded to appear before the bishop again in the same place at two in the afternoon.

AGREEABLE to this mandate, being brought be|fore the bloody tribunal of bishops, and pressed to recant his errors and return to the mother-church; he maintained his fidelity, nor would he swerve in the least from the articles he had signed with his own hand. Having therefore declared him an ob|stinate and damnable heretic, they delivered him up to the secular power, and he was burned in Smith|field, March 6th, 1555, triumphing in the midst of the flames, and adding to the noble company of martyrs, who had preceded him, through the path of the fiery trial to the realms of immortal glory.

II. The History and Martyrdom of WILLIAM HUNTER, an Apprentice in London, aged Nineteen Years, who was pursued to Death by JUSTICE BROWN, and burned March 27th, 1555.

THIS adherent to the cause of Christ had been trained to the doctrines of the reformation from his earliest youth, being descended from reli|gious parents, who carefully instructed him in the principles of true religion.

WHEN queen Mary succeeded to the crown, or|ders were issued to the priests of every parish, to summons all their parishioners to receive the com|munion at mass, the Easter after her accession; and Hunter who was then nineteen years of age, refu|sing to obey the summons, was threatened to be brought before the bishop.

HIS master fearful of incurring ecclesiastical cen|sure, desired him to leave him for a tim••; upon which he quitted his service, went do••n to Brentwood, and resided with his father ab••••t six weeks.

ONE day finding the chapel open, he entered and began to read in the English Bible, which lay upon the desk; but was severely reprimanded by an offi|cer of the bishop's court, who said to him, William, why meddlest thou with the Bible? Understandest thou what thou readest? Canst thou expound scrip|ture? He replied, I presume not to expound scrip|ture; but finding the Bible here, I read for my comfort and edification.

THE officer then informed a neighbouring priest of the liberty the young man had taken in reading the Bible; the priest therefore severely chid him, saying, Sirrah, who gave thee leave to read the Bible and expound it?

HE answered as he had done to the officer, and on the priest's telling him, that it became him not to meddle with the scriptures, he frankly declared his resolution to read them as long as he lived, as well as reproved the vicar for discouraging persons from that practice, which the scriptures so strongly enjoined.

THE priest then upbraided him as an heretic; he denied the charge, and being asked his opinion con|cerning the corporal presence in the sacrament of the altar; he replied, that he esteemed the bread and wine but as figures, and looked upon the sacra|ment as an institution in remembrance of the death and sufferings of our blessed Lord and Saviour Je|sus Christ.

WILLIAM HUNTER was then openly declared an heretic, for not believing the sacrament of the altar, and the vicar threatened to complain of him to the bishop.

A neighbouring justice, named Brown, having heard that he maintaind heretical principles, sent for his father and inquired of him concerning his son; the old man assured him that he had left him, that he knew not whither he was gone: and on the jus|tice's threatening to imprison him, unless he caused him to be apprehended and brought before him; he said with tears in his eyes, Would you have me seek out my son to be burned?

THE old man however was obliged to go, in pre|tence at least, in quest of him, and by accident meet|ing him, was asked by him, if he was seeking for him; he replied with tears, he was, and told him that it was by command of the justice who threat|ened to imprison him.

THE son, to prevent his father from incurring any danger, said that he was ready to accompany him home, on which they returned together.

THE following day, he was taken by the consta|ble, kept in the stocks four and twenty hours, and then brought before the justice; who called for a Bible, turned to the 6th chapter of St. John, and desired him to give his opinion of the meaning of it, as it related to the sacrament of the altar.

HAVING given the same explanation as he had done to the priest, and persisting in his denial of the corporal presence in the eucharist, the justice up|braided him with damnable heresy, and wrote to the bishop of London acquainting him with the same, to whom this valiant young martyr was conducted by a constable.

AFTER Bonner had read the letter, and the con|stable returned home again, the bishop caused Wil|liam to be brought into a chamber, where he began to reason with him in this manner:—I understand, William Hunter, by Mr. Brown's letter, how that you have had certain communications with the vicar of Welde, about the blessed sacrament of th•• altar, and how that you could not agree: whereupon Mr. Brown sent for thee to bring thee to the catholic faith, from which, he saith, that thou art gone. Howbeit if thou wilt he ruled by me, thou shalt have no harm for any thing that thou hast said or done in this matter.

WILLIAM answered, saying, I am not fallen from the catholic faith of Christ, I am sure, but do believe it, and confess it with all my heart.

WHY, said the bishop, how sayest thou to the blessed sacrament of the altar? Wilt thou not recant thy saying, which thou confessedst before Mr. Brown, that Christ's body is not in the sacrament of the al|tar, the same that was born of the virgin Mary?

TO which William answered, saying, My lord, I understand that Mr. Brown hath certified you of the talk which he and I had together, and thereby you know what I said to him, which I will not recant by God's help. Then said the bishop, I think thou art ashamed to bear a faggot, and recant openly; but if thou wilt recant thy sayings, I will promise thee that thou shalt not be put to open shame: but speak the word now here between me and thee, and I will promise thee it shall go no further, and thou shalt go home again without any hurt.

WILLIAM answered and said, My lord, if you let me alone, and leave me to my conscience, I will go to my father and dwell with him, or else with my master again, and so if nobody will disquiet nor trouble my conscience, I will keep my conscience to myself.

THEN said the bishop, I am content, so that thou wilt go to the church, and receive, and go to con|fession, and so continue a good catholic christian. No, said William, I will not do so for all the good in the world.

THEN, said the bishop, if you will not do so, I will make you sure enough, I warrant you. Wil|liam answered, You can do no more than God will permit you. Well, said the bishop, wilt thou not recant indeed by any means? No, returned Wil|liam, never while I live, God willing.

UPON this the bishop commanded his men to put William in the stocks in his gate-house, where he sat two days and nights, only with a crust of brown bread and a cup of water.

AT the two days end the bishop came to him, and finding the cup of water and the crust of bread still by him upon the stocks, said to his men, Take him out of the stocks, and let him break his fast with you. Then they let him out of the stocks, but would not suffer him to eat with them, but called him heretic. And he said, he was as loth to be in their company, as they were to be in his.

AFTER breakfast the bishop sent for William▪ and demanded whether he would recant or no. But William made answer, that he would never recant that which he had confessed before men, as concern|ing his faith in Christ.

THEN the bishop said that he was no christian, but he denied the faith in which he was baptized. But William answered, I was baptized in the faith of the Holy Trinity, which I will not go from, God assisting me with his grace.

THEN the bishop sent him to the convict prison, and commanded the keeper to lay irons upon him as many as he could bear; and moreover asked him, how old he was; and William said that he was nine|teen years of age.

WELL, said the bishop, you will be burned before you be twenty years old, if you will not yield your|self better than you have done yet. William an|swered, God strengthen me in his truth: and then he parted, the bishop allowing him a half-penny a day to live on in bread or drink.

THUS he continued in prison three quarters of a year. In which time he had been before the bishop five times, besides the time when he was condemned in the consistory in St. Paul's, the 9th day of Fe|bruary; at which time his brother, Robert Hunter, was present.

THEN the bishop calling William, asked him if he would recant, and so read to him his examination and confession, as is above related: and then re|hearsed how that William confessed he did believe, that he received Christ's body spiritually, when he did receive the communion. Dost thou mean, said the bishop, that the bread is Christ's body spiritually?

WILLIAM answered I mean not so, but rather when I receive the holy communion rightly and worthily, I do feed upon Christ spiritually through faith in my soul▪ and am made partaker of all the benefits which Christ hath brought unto all faithful believers thro' his precious death, passion▪ and r••surrection, and not that the bread is his body, either spiritually or corporally.

THE•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the bishop to William, Dost 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not think (holding up his cap) that for example here of

my cap, thou mayst see the squareness and colour of it, and yet that not to be the substance, which thou judgest by the accident?

WILLIAM answered, If you can separate the ac|cidents from the substance, and shew me the sub+stance without the accidents, I could believe. Then said the bishop, Thou wilt not believe that God can do any thing above man's capacity. Yes, said William, I must needs believe that; for daily ex|perience teacheth all men that thing plainly: but our question is not what God can do, but what he will have us to learn in his holy supper.

THE bishop said, I always have found thee at this point, and I see no hope to reclaim thee unto the catholic faith, but thou wilt continue a corrupt mem|ber, and then pronounced sentence upon him, that he should go from that place to Newgate for a time, and so from thence to Burntwood, where, said he, thou shalt be burned.

THEN the bishop called for another, and so when he had condemned them all, he called for William Hunter, and reasoned with him, saying, If thou wilt yet recant, I will make thee a free man in the city, and give thee forty pounds in good money to set up thine occupation withal▪ or I will make thee stew|ard of my house, and set thee in office; for I like thee well, thou hast wit enough, and I will prefer thee if thou recant.

BUT William answered, I thank you for your great offers▪ notwithstanding, my lord, said he, if you cannot persuade my conscience with scriptures, I cannot find in my heart to turn from God for the love of the world▪ for I count all worldly things but l••ss and ••ung, in respect of the love of Christ.

THEN said the bishop▪ If thou diest in this mind, thou art condemned for ever. William answered, God judgeth righteously, and justifieth them whom man condemneth unjustly.

THUS William and the bishop parted, William and the rest being committed to Newgate, where they remained 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a mo••th, who afterwards were sent down▪ William to Burntwood, and the others unto divers places of the country. Now when Wil|liam was come down to Burntwood, which was the Saturday before the annunciation of the Virgin Mary that followed on the Monday after, William remained till the next Tuesday, because they would not put him to death then, for the holiness of the day.

IN the mean time William's father and mother came to him, and desired heartily of God that he might continue to the end in that good way which he had begun, and his mother said to him, that she was glad that ever she was so happy to bear such a child, which could find in his heart to lose his life for Christ's name's sake.

THEN William said to his mother, For the little pain I shall suffer, which will soon be at an end, Christ hath promised me, mother, a crown of joy; may you not be glad of that? With that his mother kneeled down on her knees, saying, I pray God strengthen thee, my son, to the end: yea, I think thee as well bestowed as any child that ever I bare.

AT which words Mr. Higbed took her in his arms, saying, I rejoice (and so said the others) to see you in this mind, and you have good cause to rejoice. And his father and mother both said, that they always were of that mind, and praying for him, that as he had begun to confess Christ before men, he might likewise continue so to the end. Wil|liam's father said, I was afraid of nothing but that my son should have been killed in the prison by hunger and cold, the bishop was so hard to him. But William confessed, after a month that his father was charged with his board, that he lacked nothing, but had meat and clothing enough, yea even out of the court, both money, meat, clothes, wood and coals, and all things necessary.

THEY continued in the inn, being the Swan in Burntwood, whither resorted many people of the country to see those good men which were there; and many of William's acquaintance came to him, and reasoned with him, and he with them, exhort|ing them to come away from the abomination of popish superstition and idolatry.

THUS passing away Saturday, Sunday, and Mon|day, on Monday at night it happened, that William

had a dream, which was this: That he was at the place where the stake was pitched, where he should be burned, which (as he thought in his dream) was at the town's end where the butts stood, which was so indeed; and also he dreamed, that he met with his father as he went to the stake, and also that there was a priest at the stake, who went about to have him recant. To whom he said, (as he thought in his dream) Away false prophet; that he exhorted the people to beware of him, and such as he was: which things came to pass. It happened that Wil|liam made a noise to himself in his dream, which caused Mr. Higbed and the others to awake him out of his sleep, to know what he wanted. When he awaked, he told them his dream in order as is said.

NEXT morning the sheriff Mr. Brocket called to set forward to the burning of William Hunter; and the sheriff's son came to him, and embraced him in his right arm, saying, William, be not afraid of these men which are here with bows, bills, and weapons, ready prepared to bring you to the place where you shall be burned. To whom he replied, I thank God I am not afraid; for I have reckoned what it will cost me already.

THEN the sheriff's son could speak no more to him for weeping.

HUNTER then plucked up his gown, and went forward chearfully, the sheriff's servant taking him by one arm, and his brother by another; and going along he met with his father according to his dream, and he said to his son weeping, God be with thee, son William. And William said, God be with you, good father, and be of good comfort; for I hope we shall meet again when we shall be merry. He said, I hope so, William; and so departed. He then went to the place where the stake stood, even according to his dream, where all things were not ready; and taking a wet broom faggot, he kneeled down thereon, and read the 51st Psalm, till he came to these words, "The sacrifice of God is a contrite spirit, a contrite and a broken heart, O God, thou wilt not despise."

THEN said Mr. Tyrill of the Braches, called William Tyrill, Thou liest, heretic, thou readest false; for the words are an humble spirit. But William said, The translation saith a contrite heart. Yes, quoth Mr. Tyrill, the translation is false, you translate books as you please yourselves▪ like heretics. Well, said William, there is no great difference in those words. Then said the sheriff, Here is a letter from the queen: if thou wilt re|cant, thou shalt live; if not, thou shalt be burned. No, said William, I will not recant, God willing. He then rose up and went to stake, and stood up|right to it. And one Richard Ponde, a bailiff, came and made the chain fast about him.

THEN said Mr. Brown, Here is not wood e|nough to burn a leg of him: said William, Good people, pray for me; and make speed and dispatch me quickly: and pray for me while you see me live, good people, and I will pray for you like|wise.

NO, said Mr. Brown, pray for thee! I will pray no more for thee, than I will pray for a dog. To whom William answered, Mr. Brown, now you have that which you sought for, and I pray God it be not laid to your charge in the last day; howbeit I forgive you. Then Mr. Brown said, I ask no forgiveness of thee. Well, said William, if God forgive you, I shall not require my blood at your hands.

THEN said William, Son of God shine upon me; and immediately the sun in the element shone out of a dark cloud so full in his face, that he was con|strained to look another way; whereat the people mused, because it was so dark a little time before. Then William took up a faggot of broom, and embraced it in his arms.

THEN the priest, which William dreamed of, came to his brother Robert with a popish book to carry to William that he might recant, which book his brother would not meddle with.

WILLIAM seeing the priest, and perceiving how he would have shewed him the book, said, Away thou false prophet: beware of them, good people, and come away from their abominations, lest you be partakers of their plagues Then the priest said, Look how thou burnest here, so shalt thou burn in hell. William answered, Thou liest thou false prophet; away thou false prophet, away.

THERE was a gentleman present who said, I pray God have mercy upon his soul. The people said, Amen, Amen. Immediately the fire was made.

THEN William cast his psalter into his brother's hand, who said, William, think on the holy pas|sion of Christ, and be not afraid of death.

AND William answered, I am not afraid. Then lift he up his hands to heaven, and said, Lord, Lord, Lord, receive my spirit; and casting down his head again into the smothering smoke, he yield|ed up his life for the truth, sealing it with his blood to the praise of God.

III. The HISTORY and MARTYRDOMS of WILLIAM PY|GOT, STEPHEN KNIGHT, and the Rev. JOHN LAWRENCE: the two former were burned March 28th, the one at BRAINTREE, the other at MALDEN in ESSEX: and the latter at COLCHESTER, March 29th, 1555.

THESE two pious layman, and one protestant divine, having been pointed out by the emissa|ries of Bonner and Gardiner, information was given to those savage prelates, that they maintained reli|gious opinions contrary to the doctrine and practice of the holy mother church. In consequence of this they were all three summoned to appear before bishop Bonner, at his consistory court, at London, where they were severally questioned concerning their faith of the corporal presence in the sacrament.

HAVING respectively answered and subscribed that they were not substantially, but figuratively, the body and blood of Christ in that holy ordi|nance, they were severely reprimanded by the court, admonished to recant their heretical opinions, and for that time dismissed.

A few days after they were again examined con|cerning the same tenet, when they made the like declaration as before; in consequence of which the bi|shop addressed himself to the two laymen, and with an affected concern for their spiritual and temporal inter|ests, warmly exhorted them to reject their heresies, and not expose themselves to death here, and damnation hereafter, by obstinately persisting in disobedience to the holy see: but these plain and honest christians were too well grounded in the doctrines of Christ's pure gospel, to be moved from their adherence to the true faith. They, therefore, told the bishop, that they could not recant consistently with the dic|tates of their consciences, nor would they abjure the opinions to which they had subscribed.

AFTER this bishop Bonner entered into argu|ment with the Rev. Mr. Lawrence alone, and having demanded of what order he was, he an|swered, that he was admitted to the priest's orders eighteen years past, that he was some time a black friar, and that he was betrothed to a maid, whom he intended to mar••y.

THE bishop then asked him his opinion of the corporal presence in the sacrament: to which he replied, that it was an institution of our blessed Lord, in commemoration of his death and suffer|ings; and that those were grea••••y deceived, who believed that his body was verily prese•••• in the same, saying, that he had long before ascended into hea|ven, and was placed at the right hand of the glo|rious majesty of the Father.

MR. LAWRENCE was, for the present, dismissed; but a few days after he, with Pygot and Knight, was again summoned before the bishop, who, with his usual hypocrisy, exhorted them to recant, embrace the Roman catholic faith, and not be the wilful cause of their own destruction. But no ar|guments could induce them to recede in a single point; all of them declaring, they would abide by their opinions, because they were founded on the word of God; whereas the other was merely of human invention.

FROM this frank declaration, bishop Bonner pro|ceeded to pass sentence on them as irreclaimable heretics; and then degraded Mr. Lawrence with the usual ceremonies. After which, they were all three delivered to the sheriff, who conducted them to Newgate, where they remained with joy together, until they were carried down into Essex, and there the 28th day of March, the said William Pygot was burned at Braintree, and Stephen Knight at Maiden, who at the stake, kneeling

upon the ground, said this prayer which here fol|loweth.

O Lord Jesus Christ, for whose love I leave willingly this life, and desire rather the bitter death of thy cross, with the loss of all earthly things, than to abide the blasphemy of thy most holy name, or to obey men in breaking thy holy commandment: thou seest, O Lord, that where I might live in worldly wealth to worship a false God, and honour thine enemy, I chuse rather the tor|ment of the body, and the loss of this life, and have count|ed all things but vile, dust, and dung, that I might win thee; which death is dearer unto me, than thousands of gold and silver. Such love, O Lord, hast thou laid up in my breast, that I hunger for thee, as the wounded deer desireth the soyl. Send thy holy comforter, O Lord, to aid, comfort, and strengthen this weak peace of earth, which is empty of all strength of itself. Thou rememberest, O Lord, that I am but dust, and able to do nothing that is good; therefore, O Lord, as of thine accustomed good|ness and love thou hast invited me to this banquet, and ac|counted me worthy to drink of thine own cup amongst thine elect; even so give me strength, O Lord, against this raging element, which as to my sight it is most irk|some and terrible, so to my mind it may at thy command|ment (as an obedient servant) be sweet and pleasant, that through the strength of thy Holy Spirit, I may pass through the rage of this fire into thy bosom, according to thy pro|mise, and for this mortal receive an immortal, and for this corruptible put on incorruption: accept this burnt sacrifice and offering, O Lord, not for the sacrifice, but for thy dear Son's sake my Saviour, for whose testimony I offer this free-will offering with all my heart and with all my soul. O heavenly Father, forgive me my sins, as I for|give all the world. O sweet Son of God my Saviour, spread thy wings over me. O blessed and Holy Ghost, through whose merciful inspiration I am come hither, conduct me into everlasting life. Lord, into thy hands I commend my spirit. Amen.

THE next day, being the 29th of March, the said John Lawrence was brought to Colchester, and there being not able to go, (for his legs were much worn with heavy irons in prison, and also his body weakened with low keeping) was taken to the fire in a chair, and so sitting, was in his constant faith consumed with fire.

WHEN he was burning, the young children came about the fire, and cried, as well as young children could speak, saying, Lord, strengthen thy servant. and keep thy promise: which thing, as it is rare, so it is no small manifestation of the glory of God, which wrought this in the hearts of these little ones; nor yet a little commendation to their parents, who from their youth brought them up in the knowledge of God and his truth.

IV. The HISTORY of the FAITH, CONFESSION, and MARTYRDOM, of Mr. THOMAS CAUSTON, and Mr, THOMAS HIGBED, two worthy Gentlemen of Essex, who were burned, under the Tyranny of the bloody BONNER, the first at RAYLY, and the last at HORNDEN-ON-THE-HILL, both in the Coun|ty of ESSEX, March 26th, 1555.

MR. HIGBED and Mr. CAUSTON, two gentlemen in the county of Essex, the one at Hornden on the Hill, the other of the parish of Thundurst, being zealous and religious in the true service of God; as they could not dissemble with the Lord, nor flatter with the world, so in time of blind superstition and wretched idolatry, they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not long lie hid and obscure in such a number of ma|lignant adversaries, accusers, and servants of this world; but at length they were perceived, and discovered to Edmund Bonner, bishop of London, by whose command they were committed to the officers of Colchester, to be safely kept, and with them also a servant of Thomas Causton, who was nothing inferior to his master in true piety.

BISHOP BONNER perceiving these two gentlemen to be of good estate, and of great estimation in that country, lest any tumult should thereby arise, came thither himself, accompanied with Mr. Fe••knam and several others, thinking to reclaim them to his religion: so that great labour and diligence was taken therein, as well by terrors and threatenings, as by large promises and flatterings, and all fair means, to reduce them again to the unity (as they termed it) of the mother church.

IN fine, when nothing could prevail to make them to assent to their doings, at length they came to this point, that they required certain respite to consult with themselves what was best to do. Which time of deliberation being expired, and they remaining still constant and immoveable in their professed doctrine, and setting out also their con|fession in writing, the bishop seeing no good to be done in tarrying any longer there, departed thence,

and carried them both with him to London, and with them certain other prisoners also, who about the same time were apprehended in those parts.

AT length, when no persuasions would serve, they were brought forth to open examination at the consistory in St. Paul's, February 17, 1555, where they were demanded as well by the said bishop, as also by the bishop of Bath and others, whether they would recant their errors and perverse doctrine, as they termed it, and so come to the unity of the popish church. But on their refusing so to do, the bishop assigned them to appear again the next day, being the 18th of February.

ON which day, among many other things there said and passed, he read unto them several certain articles, and gave them respite until the next day to answer unto the same, and so committed them again to prison. The copy of which articles here followeth.

ARTICLES objected and ministered by Bishop BONNER, against THOMAS CAUSTON and THOMAS HIGBED.

FIRST, That thou Thomas Causton (or Tho|mas Higbed) hast been and art of the diocese of London, and also of the jurisdiction now of me E••m••nd, bishop of London.

ITEM, That thou wast in time past, according to the order of the church of England, baptized and christened.

Item, That thou hast godfathers and godmother, according to the said estate.

ITEM, That the said godfathers and godmo|ther did then promise for thee, and in thy name, the faith and religion that then was used in the realm of England.

ITEM, That that faith and religion which they did profess and make for thee, was accounted and taken to be the faith and religion of the church, and of the christian people: and so it was in very deed.

ITEM, Thou coming to the age of discretion, that is to say, to the age of 14 years, didst not dislike nor disallow that faith, that religion, or promise then used and approved, and promised by the said godfathers and godmother, but for a time didst con|tinue in it, as others (taking themselves for chris|tian people) did likewise.

ITEM, That at that time, and also before, it was taken for a doctrine of the church, catholic and true, and every-where in Christendom then allowed for catholic and true, and to be the profession of chris|tian men, to believe, that in the sacrament of the altar, under the forms of bread and wine, after the consecration, there was and is by the omnipotent power and will of Almighty God, and his word, without any substance of bread and wine there re|maining, the true and natural body and blood of of our Saviour Jesus Christ in substance, which was born of the virgin Mary, and suffered upon the cross, really, truly, and in very deed.

ITEM, That at that time thy father and mother, all thine ancestors, all thy kindred, acquaintance and friends, and thy said godfathers and godmo|ther did then so believe, and think in all the same as the said church did therein believe.

ITEM, That thyself hast had no just cause or law|ful ground to depart or swerve from the said reli|gion or faith, nor any occasion at all, except thou wilt follow and believe the erroneous opinion or no|tion, that hath been against the common order of the church, brought in by certain disordered per|sons of late, at the uttermost within these thirty or forty years last past.

ITEM, That thou dost know, or credibly hast heard, and dost believe, that John Hooper, late bishop of Gloucester, Laurence Saunders, priest, John Rogers, priest, Rowland Taylor, priest, John Lawrence, priest, William Pygot, Stephen Knight, William Hunter, and Thomas Tomkins, have been heretofore reputed, taken, and accounted as heretics, and also condemned as heretics, and so pronounced openly and manifestly; especially in holding and believing certain damnable opinions, against the verity of Christ's body and blood in the sacrament of the altar; and all the same persons have suffered pains of death by fire, for the main|tenance and defence of their said opinions and mis|belief.

ITEM, That thou dost know, or credibly hast heard, and dost believe, that Thomas Cranmer, late archbishop of Canterbury, and Nicholas Ridley, naming himself bishop of London, Robert Ferrar, late bishop of St. David's, and Hugh Latimer, sometime bishop of Worcester, have been, and are at this present reputed, accounted, and taken as he|retics and misbelievers, in maintaining and holding certain damnable opinions against the verity of Christ's body and blood in the sacrament of the altar.

ITEM, That thou hast commanded and praised all the said persons so erring and believing (or at leastwise some of them) secretly, and also openly, taking and believing them to be faithful and catho|lic people, and their said opinions to be good and true, and the same to the best and uttermost of thy power thou hast allowed, maintained, and defended at sundry times.

ITEM, That thou having heard, known, and un|derstood all the premises thus to be as is aforesaid, hast not regarded all or any part thereof, but contra|ry to the same and every part thereof, hast attempt|ed and done, condemning, transgressing, and break|ing the promise, faith, religion, order, and custom aforesaid, and hast become, and art an heretic and misbeliever in the premises, denying the verity of Christ's body and blood in the sacrament of the al|tar, and obstinately affirming, that the substance of the material bread and wine are there remaining, and that the substance of Christ's body and blood, taken of the virgin Mary, are not there in the said sacrament really and truly.

ITEM, That all the premises be true, notorious, famous, and manifest, and that upon all the same, there have and be amongst the said good people of the city of London, and diocese of the same, in great multitude, commonly and publicly, a common and public fame and opinion, and also in all places where thou hast been, within the said diocese of London.

THESE articles being given to them in writing by the bishop, the next day was assigned to them to give up and exhibit their answers unto the same.

ON the 1st of March, the said Thomas Causton and Thomas Higbed, gentlemen, being brought before the bishop in the consistory, they there exhi|bited their answers to the articles aforesaid; the tenor of which answers here followeth.

The ANSWERS of THOMAS CAUSTON and THOMAS HIGBED, to the aforesaid ARTICLES.

TO the 1st, 2d, 3d, and 4th articles they answer, and confess the same to be true.

TO the fifth, until this clause [and so was it in very deed] they answer and believe the same to be true. And unto that clause [and so was it in very deed], they answer negatively, and believe that it was not in very deed.

TO the sixth, seventh, and eighth, they answer and believe the same to be true.

TO the ninth, they answer and say, that they think they have a just and lawful cause and ground to swerve and go from the said faith and religion, because they have now read more scripture, than either themselves, or their parents and kinsfolk, godfathers or godmothers have read or seen hereto|fore in that behalf.

TO the tenth, they answer, say, and believe, that the said persons articulate, have been named, taken, and counted for heretics, and so condemned for he|retics; yet about three years past they were taken for good christian persons. And forasmuch as these respondents did never hear them preach concern|ing the sacrament of the altar, they say that they preached well, in that they said and preached that Christ is not present really and truly in the sacra|ment, but that there is remaining the substance of bread and wine.

TO the eleventh, they answer and say, that how|ever others do repute and take the said persons, yet these respondents themselves did never, nor yet do so account and take them. And further they say, that in case the said persons named in this article have preached, that in the sacrament of the altar is very material wine, and not the substance of Christ's body and blood under the forms of bread and wine, then they preached well and truly, and these res|pondents themselves do so believe.

TO the twelfth, they answer and say, that where other people have dispraised the said persons, and dis|allowed their opinions, these respondents (for ought that they at any time have heard) did like and allow the said persons, and their sayings.

TO the thirteenth, they answer and say, that they have not broken or condemned any promise made by their godfathers and godmothers for them at their baptism, and that they are no heretics nor misbelievers, in that they believe that there re|maineth only bread and wine in the sacrament of the altar, and that Christ's natural body is not there, but in heaven; for they say, that the scriptures so teach them.

TO the fourteenth, they answer and believe, that the premises before by them confessed be true, no|torious, and manifest.

AFTER these answers exhibited and perused, the bishop spake unto them after this manner; begin|ning first (as he did before) with Thomas Causton: because you shall not be suddenly trapped, and that men shall not say that I go about to seek snares to put you away; I have hitherto respited you, that you should weigh and consider with yourself your state and condition; and that you should, while you have time and space, acknowledge the truth, and return to the unity of the catholic church. Then the bishop, reading their former articles and an|swers to the same, asked them if they would recant: which when they denied, they were again dismissed, and commanded to appear the Wednesday after, at two o'clock in the afternoon, there to receive their definitive sentence: which (as it seemeth) was yet deferred.

The SECOND APPEARANCE and EXAMINATION of Mr. CAUSTON, and Mr. HIGBED, before the Bishop of LONDON, and in the presence of Mr. FECKNAM and Dr. STEMPE.

THE next Friday, being the 8th of March, the said Tomas Causton, was first called to exa|mination before the bishop, Mr. Fecknam and Dr. Stempe being in his palace, and there had read unto him his foresaid articles with his answers thereunto, and after some exhortations to recant his former profession, and to be conformable to the unity of their mother church, they promised him (so doing) willingly to receive him again thereunto. To whom he answered, You go about to catch us in snares and gins. But mark, by what measure you measure us, look you to be measured with the same again at God's hands. The bishop still persuaded him to recant. To whom he answered, No, I will not abjure. You said that the bishops that were lately burned are heretics: but I pray God make me such a heretic as they were.

THE bishop then leaving Mr. Causton, called for Mr. Higbed: using with him the like persuasions that he did with the other: but he answered, I will not abjure. For I hare been of this mind and o|pinion that I am now, these sixteen years, and do what you can, you shall do no more than God will permit you to do, and with what measure you mea|sure us, look for the same again at God's hands.

FECKNAM asked him his opinion in the sacrament of the altar. To whom he answered, I do not be|lieve that Christ is in the sacrament as you will have him, which is of man's making: both their answers thus severally made, they were again commanded to depart for that time, and to appear the next day in the consistory at St. Paul's, between the hours of one and three o'clock in the afternoon.

The THIRD and LAST APPEARANCE of Mr. CAUSTON, and Mr. HIGBED. before Bishop BONNER.

THE ninth of March, they were both brought thither: where the bishop caused Mr. Tho|mas Causton's articles and answers first to be read openly, and after persuaded him to recant and ab|jure his heretical opinions, and to come home now at the last to their mother the catholic church, and save himself.

BUT Mr. Thomas Causton answered again, and said, No, I will not abjure; for I came not hither for that purpose: and therewithal did exhibit in writing unto the bishop (as well in his own name, as also in Mr. Thomas Higbed's name) a confession of their faith, to which they would stand: and re|quired leave to read the same, which (after great suit) was obtained, and so he read it openly in the hearing of the people, as followeth.

The CONFESSION of FAITH, of THOMAS CAUSTON and THOMAS HIGBED, which they delivered to the Bishop of LONDON, before the Mayor and Sheriffs, and in the presence of all the People then assembled, March 9, 1555.

1. FIRST, we believe and profess in baptism, to forsake the devil and all his works and pomps, and the vanities of the wicked world, with all the sinful lusts of the flesh.

2. WE believe all the articles of our christian faith.

3. WE believe, that we are bound to keep God's holy will and commandments, and to walk in the same all the days of our life.

4. WE believe, that there are contained in the Lord's prayer all things necessary both for body and soul, and that we are taught thereby to pray to our heavenly Father, and not to any saint or angel.

5. WE believe, that there is a catholic church, even the communion of saints, "built upon the foundation of the prophets and apostles, (as St. Paul saith) Christ being the head corner-stone. For which church Christ gave himself, to make it to himself a glorious congregation without fault in his sight."

6. WE believe, that this church of herself, and by her own merits, is sinful, and must needs say, Father forgive us our sins: but through Christ and his merits, she is freely forgiven: "For he in his own person (saith St. Paul) hath purged her sins, and made her faultless in his sight. Besides whom, there is no Saviour, saith the prophet: Neither is there salvation, saith St. Peter, in any other name."

7. WE believe as he is our only Saviour, so he is our only Mediator. For the apostle St. Paul saith, "There is one God, one Mediator between God and man, even the Man Jesus Christ." Wherefore seeing none hath this name God and Man but Jesus Christ, therefore there is no Mediator but Jesus Christ.

8. WE believe, that this church of Christ is and hath been persecuted, by the words of Christ, say|ing, "As they have persecuted me, so shall they persecute you: for the disciple is not above his master. For it is not only given unto you to believe in Christ, (saith St. Paul) but also to suffer for his sake. For all that will live godly in Christ Jesus, must suffer persecution."

9. WE believe, that the church of Christ teach|eth the word of God truly and sincerely, putting nothing to, nor taking any thing from it: and also doth minister the sacraments according to the pri|mitive church.

10. WE believe, that this church of Christ suf|fereth all men to read the scriptures, according to Christ's commandment, saying, "Search the scrip|tures, for they testify of me." We read also in the Acts, that when St. Paul preached, the audience daily searched the scriptures, whether he preached truly or no. Also the prophet David teacheth all men to pray with understanding: "For how shall the unlearned (saith St. Paul) say Amen, at the giving of thanks, when they understand not what is said?" And what is more allowed than true faith, which (St. Paul saith) "cometh by hearing of the word of God?"

11. WE believe, that the church of Christ teach|eth that God ought to be worshipped according to his word, and not after the doctrine of men. "For in vain (saith Christ) you worship me, teaching noth|ing but the doctrine of men." Also we are com|manded of God by his prophet, saying, "Walk not in the traditions and precepts of your elders: but walk (saith he) in my precepts: do what I com|mand you: put nothing thereunto, neither take any thing from it." Likewise (saith Christ) "You shall forsake father and mother, and follow me." Whereby we learn, that if our elders teach other|wise than God commanded, in that point we must forsake them.

12. WE believe, that the supper of the Lord ought not to be altered and changed, forasmuch as Christ himself, being the wisdom of the Father, did institute it. For it is written, "Cursed is he that changeth my ordinances, and departeth from my commandments, or taketh any thing from them."

NOW we find by the scriptures, that this holy supper it sore abused.

FIRST, In that it is given in one kind, where Christ gave it in both.

SECONDLY, in that it is made a private mass, where Christ made it a communion. for he gave it not to one alone, but to all the apostles in the name of the whole church.

THIRDLY, In that it is made a sacrifice for the quick and the dead, whereas Christ ordained it for a remembrance of the everlasting sacrifice which was in his own body offered on the altar of the cross once for all, as the holy apostle saith, "Even the full and perfect price of our redemption: and where there is remission of sin, (saith he) there is no more sacrifice for sin."

FOURTHLY, In that it is worshipped contrary to the commandment. saying, "Thou shalt worship nothing that is made with hands.

FIFTHLY, In that it is given in an unknown tongue, whereby the people are ignorant of the right use thereof, how Christ died for our sins, and rose again for our justification, by whom we are set at peace with God, and received into his savour and mercy by his promise, whereof this sacrament is a sure seal and witness.

BESIDES this, it is hanged up, and shut in a box, many times so long, that worms breed in it, and so it putrifieth: whereby the rude people have an occa|sion to speak irreverently thereof, which otherwise would speak reverently.

THEREFORE they that thus abuse it, bring up the slander, and not we, which pray daily to God to re|store it to the right use, according to Christ's institu|tion.

NOW concerning Christ's words, "This is my body," we deny them not: but we say, that the mind of Christ in them must be searched out by other open scriptures, whereby we may come to the spiritual understanding of them, which shall be most to the glory of God: for as the holy apostle saith, "There is no scripture that hath any private inter|pretation." Besides this, the scriptures are full of the like figurative speeches: as for example: Christ saith, "This cup is the New Testament of my blood." "The rock is Christ," saith St. Paul. "Whosoever receiveth a child in my name, (saith our Saviour Jesus Christ) receiveth me." Which sentences must not be understood after the letter, lest we do err as the Capernaites did, which thought that Christ's body should be eaten with their teeth, when he spake of the eating thereof. Unto whom Christ said, "Such a fleshly eating of my body pro|fiteth nothing: it is the spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing: for my words are spirit and life."

THUS we see that Christ's words must be under|stood spiritually, and not literally. Therefore he that cometh to this worthy supper of the Lord, must not prepare his jaw, but his heart, neither tooth nor belly; but "Believe (saith St, Augustine) and thou hast eaten it;" so that we must bring with us a spi|ritual hunger, and as the apostle saith, "Try and examine ourselves, whether our conscience do testify unto us, that we do truly believe in Christ, accord|ing to the scriptures;" whereof if we be truly cer|tified, being new born from our old conversation in heart and mind, will, and deed, then may we boldly with this marriage garment of our faith come to the feast.

IN consideration whereof we have invincible scrip|tures, as of Christ himself; "This do in remem|brance of me." And St. Paul; "As often (saith he) as you eat of this bread, and drink of this cup, you shall remember the Lord's death until he come." Here is no change, but bread still. And St. Luke affirmeth the same. Also Christ hath made a just promise, saying, "Me you shall not have always with you, I leave the world, and go to my Father; for if I should not depart, the Comforter which I will send, cannot come unto you," So according to his promise he ascended, as the evangelists testify. Also St. Peter saith, "That heaven shall keep him until the last day also."

NOW as touching his omnipotent power, we con|fess and say with St. Auguistine, that Christ is both God and Man. In that he is God, he is every

where; but in that he is Man, he is in heaven, and can occupy but one place: whereunto the scriptures do agree. For his body was not in all places at once when he was here; for it was not in the grave when the woman sought it, as the angel saith: neither was it at Bethany where Lazarus died, by Christ's own words, saying, "I am glad I was not there." And thus we conclude with the scriptures, that Christ is in his holy supper sacramentally and spiritually in all them that worthily receive it, and corporally in heaven, both God and Man.

AND further, we make here our protestation be|fore God (whom we call to record in this matter) that this which we have said, is neither of stubborn|ness, nor wilful mind, as some judge of us; but even of very conscience, truly (we trust) grounded on God's holy word. For before we took this mat|ter in hand, we b••••ought God from the bottom of our hearts, that we might do nothing contrary to his holy and blessed word. And in that he has thus shewed his power in our weakness, we cannot suffi|ciently praise him, unto whom we give hearty thanks, through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.

WHEN they had thus delivered and read their confession, the bishop still persisting sometimes in fair promises, sometimes threatening to pronounce judgment, asked them whether they would stand to this their confession, and other answers? To whom Causton said, Yes, we will stand to our answers writ|ten with our hands, and to our belief therein con|tained. After which answer the bishop began to pronounce sentence against him.

THEN he said, that it was much rashness, and without love or mercy to give judgment without an swering to their confession by the truth of God's word, whereunto they submitted themselves most willingly. And therefore I, said Causton, (because I cannot have justice at your hand, but that you will thus rashly condemn me) do appeal from you to my lord cardinal.

THEN Dr. Smith said, that he would answer their confession. But the bishop (not suffering him to speak) desired Harpsfield to say his mind, who taking their confession in his hand, neither touched nor answered one sentence thereof.

WHICH done, the bishop pronounced sentence, first against the said Thomas Causton, and then call|ing Thomas Higbed, caused his articles and answers likewise to be read. In the reading whereof Hig|bed said, Ye speak blasphemy against Christ's pas|sion, and ye go about to trap us with your subtleties and snares. And though my father and mother, and other kinsfolk did believe, as you say, yet they were deceived in so believing.

AND further, where you say, that my lord Cran|mer (late archbishop of Canterbury) and others specified in the said articles, be heretics, I do wish that I were such an heretic as they were, and be. Then the bishop asked him again, whether he would turn from his error, and come to the unity of their church? To whom he said, No: I would you should recant; for I am in the truth, and you in error.

WELL, (said the bishop) if you will return, I will gladly receive you.

NO, (said Higbed) I will not return as you will have me, to believe in the sacrament of the altar of your God.

WHEREUPON the bishop proceeded, and gave judgment upon him, as he had done before upon Thomas Causton. They were then both delivered to the sheriffs, and so by them sent to Newgate, where they remained the space of fourteen days, praised be God, not so much in afflictions as in consolations.

FOR the increase of which they earnestly desired all their good brethren and sisters in Christ to pray, that God for his Son's sake, would continue that great mercy, which already he had begun in them, so that they might persevere unto the end, to the praise of the eternal God, and comfort of all their brethren.

FOURTEEN days, after their condemnation, being expired, they were the 23d of March taken from Newgate, at four o'clock in the morning, and so led through the city to Aldgate, where they were deli|vered unto the sheriff of Essex, and there being fast bound in a cart, were shortly after brought to their several appointed places of burning: that is to say,

Thomas Higbed to Hornden on the Hill, and Tho|mas Causton to Rayly (both in the county of Essex) where they did most constantly, the 26th day of the same month, seal their faith with shedding their blood by most cruel fire, to the glory of God, and great rejoicing of the godly.

AT the burning of which Mr. Higbed, justice Brown was also present, and divers gentlemen in the shire were commanded to be present, for fear lest they should be taken from them. And thus much touching the apprehension, examination, confession, condemnation, and burning of these two godly and constant martyrs of God.

CHAP. V. The Examinations, Condemnation, and Martyrdom, of Dr. ROBERT FARRAR, Bishop of St. DAVID'S, in WALES; who gave his Life for the Truth, and was burned in the Market|place of the Town of CAERMARTHEN, March 30th, 1555.

THIS worthy and learned prelate having in the former reign, as well as since the accession of Mary, been remarkably zealous in promoting the reformed doctrines, and exploding the errors of po|pish idolatry; was summoned, among others, before the popish and persecuting bishop of Winchester, (who was then likewise lord chancellor) and other commissioners set apart for the abominable work of devastation and massacre.

HIS principal accusers and persecutors were, George Constantine Walter, his servant; Thomas Young, chaunter of the cathedral, afterwards arch|bishop of York; Dr. Rowland Merrick, afterwards bishop of Bangor; Thomas Lee, and Hugh Raw|lins, &c. at whose instance, Hugh Rawlins, a priest, and Thomas Lee, brother-in-law to the said George Constantine, did exhibit to the king's most honour|able council, the following articles and informations, which, with the bishop's answer to the same, we here think good to insert.

A true Copy of Articles and Informations exhibited by HUGH RAWLINS, and THOMAS LE••, against Dr. ROBERT FARRAR, Bishop of St. David's.

1. IMPRIMIS, When the said bishop first came to his diocese, he appointed his chancellor by his letters of commission, omitting the king's ma|jesty's stile and authority, and grounded his said commission upon foreign usurped laws and autho|rity, by force of which authority his said chancellor did visit certain deanries of his said diocese, and ad|monished the chaunter and chapiter of the cathedral church of St. David's aforesaid, against a certain day and place, for like intent and purpose, contrary to the king's highness's laws and statutes, and in derogation of his highness's supremacy.

2. ITEM, That the said chaunter and chapiter, perceiving the fault of the said commission, took the same from the register into their custody, refusing to appear by virtue thereof, and by secret and cha|ritable ways and means, did admonish the said bishop of the unlawfulness and faults of the said commis|sion, and of the danger he had incurred for granting and executing the same; opening also unto him the effect of the statute made in the 28th year of our late sovereign lord Henry VIII. Which admoni|tions notwithstanding, the said bishop neglecting the same, and continuing in his malicious doing, or in|excusable ignorance; about the 20th day of August, in the fourth year of the reign of our sovereign lord that now is, did confer unto one John Evans, the vicarage of Pembrin, instituting him by authority of the old foreign usurped law, making no mention of the king's highness's authority, in contempt and derogation of the same.

3. ITEM, Whereas the chancellor and vicar gene|ral

to the said bishop, did upon a lawful title, and by the king's highness's supreme authority, admit and institute one John Gough into the rectory of Hask|ard with the appurtenances, and gave out in the king's name under his highness's seal ecclesiastical appointed for that office, with the test of the said bishop, and subscription of the said chancellor, a mandate to induct accordingly; by virtue whereof the said John Gough was inducted by the official there into the real possession of the same rectory, with the rights and appurtenances to the same be|longing; whereupon the register of the said diocese, at the request of the aforesaid chancellor, did signify the premises, with all the circumstances, before di|vers persons to the fore-named bishop: who not|withstanding did institute and cause to be inducted, one Harry Goddard, unto the same parsonage, making no mention of the king's majesty's authority nor supremacy; in contempt and derogation of the same his highness's crown and dignity, and in ex|tolling the foreign usurped authority, contrary to the form of the statute, &c.

4. ITEM, The said bishop, immediately after the unlawful institution and induction of Goddard, mo|lested the said John Gough, lawfully instituted and inducted as before, citing him from place to place, objecting no matter unto him of long season, till at length he articled: so taking upon him the cogni|tion of the title of the whole fruits and patronage, in contempt of the king's highness's regal crown and statutes of this realm.

5. ITEM, He hath commonly made his collations and institutions, as he did his first commission, in his own name and authority, without expressing the king's supremacy.

6. ITEM, He made under his seal one collation, two institutions, three mandates to induct, in one vacation of one benefice, three several persons, with|out order of law, or revocation of any of them, giving to every one like authority, title, and right. Whereby except good foresight, as well of justices of the peace, as of the friends, had not been, there had ensued much inconvenience amongst the parta|kers of the intitled incumbents in that behalf.

7. ITEM, The same bishop decreeing caveats to be made in benefices, thereby knowing the titles litigious, instituted and caused to be inducted with|out trial of any title or due order of law.

8. ITEM, He directed his mandates of induction unto private men, and not to the archdeacon nor his officials; contrary to the law and custom used in that behalf. Notwithstanding he hath been coun|selled to the contrary by learned men.

9. ITEM, Having no manner of knowledge nor practice in the law, he sitteth every day in harvest, and other times, upon causes, without the assistance of the learned in the law, having with him only an unlearned boy, who is no notary, to his scribe, neither observing the law, nor yet reasonable order: and therefore doth no good, but trifleth the time, as may appear by his acts, if he have them to shew.

10. ITEM, He and his officers, by his knowledge, used to dispense with marriages, to be solemnized without banns, contrary to the laws and ordinances in that behalf.

11. ITEM, Whereas one Thomas Prichard, a chaplain of his, solemnized matrimony in a private house without banns, and that between a priest and a sister of her's that was appointed to be married with the said priest that day; he also being a parson, and leaving his cure unserved that day being Sun|day: and notwithstanding that one of the king's council in the marches of Wales informed the said bishop of the same misdemeanors, requiring due re|formation thereof, he hath done nothing therein, but put the same chaplain in office, and made him commissary general since that time, bearing a spe|cial favour to the rest of the offenders.

12. ITEM, Whereas one Meredith ap Thomas his houshold-servant, was accused by one Sage Hughes, to have been father of her child; the said bishop, without acquittal of his servant, caused him to sue the parents of the said Sage of infamy, first in his principal consistory, and from thence before a commissary of his, being his houshold chaplain, and at last took the matter before himself, railing against all his officers, because they proceeded not after his partial affection, and against the law, that honest

men of Caermarthen, where he sat upon the cause, judged him to be, or at the least to have been dis|tracted of his wit; and by his partial handling, the cause remaineth unfinished, and the child with|out a father.

13. ITEM, Whereas one Jenkin Ph. accused William Chambers, a servant of the bishop's that found this William in an adulterous manner with his wife, by reason whereof the bishop expelled the wife out of his house, the said infamy not purged, the said parties have been both again in the bishop's house and service since that time, to the evil exam|ple of others.

14. ITEM, By his unlawful sequestration of the fruits of the benefices of Langattock and Lanvihan|gel, by the indiscreet handling of the same, there were raised the number of four hundred people or more, who made much disturbance, to the great danger of the inhabitants thereabout, had it not been pacified by the discreet means of sir John Vaughan, knight.

15. ITEM, By his unlawful collation of the pre|bend of Lanbister to one Stephen Green, a chaplain of his, by covenant and promise to maintain the suit, by whose crafty and indiscreet handling of the same, there was raised in the county of Radnor, the 19th day of August last past, about three or four hundred men to like danger, but that the matter was stayed by John Bradshaw, Rice ap Glin, and Stephen ap Rice, justices of the same county; who with great danger to themselves and their's, pacified the mat|ter, committing an hundred of the offenders to ward.

16. ITEM, Such as he owes displeasures unto, he citeth from place to place, and day to day, only for their vexation, laying no matter against them; and being divers times required the copy of his proceed|ings against them, to the intent they might answer accordingly, and be at their lawful defence; he de|nied to all such persons the copies of his proceed|ings.

17. ITEM, He and his officers wink at the mani|fest and open crimes of his favourers and adherents, to the evil example of the whole diocese, and abuse the censure of excommunication and suspension, making it an instrument of revenge against such as they do not favour.

18. ITEM, Having received payment of the king's majesty's subsidy, due in Oct. the fourth year of his grace's reign, of the foresaid chaunter of the cathe|dral church of St. David's, and Rowland Meyrike, two of the residentaries there, before Christmas last, he unjustly, of a premeditated mind and purpose, afterwards certified them for recusants, to their ruin, if they had not been admonished of his cruel pur|pose, and provided lawful defence for the same.

19. ITEM, The said bishop celebrating matrimony in his own person, dispensed, contrary to the book of ordinance, with the parties married, for not re|ceiving the holy communion; the parties both be|ing young and lusty persons, having no reasonable cause wherefore they should abstain. At which celebration the bishop communicated not himself. And further the communion was celebrated by a chaplain of his, with superstitious blowings, kneel|ings, and knockings both by the chaplain that mi|nistered, and by all the company, only one other priest communicating for the manner.

20. ITEM, Where the official of the archdeacon of Caermarthen, in his visitation within Caermar|then, found, contrary unto the said ordinance, an altar set up in the body of the church, for the cele|bration of the communion, and caused the said altar to be taken away, and a table to be set in the middle of the church; the bishop after the same command|ed the vicar of Caermarthen to set the table with|out the chancel again for the ministration of the communion.

21. ITEM, He being often in Caermarthen, and other places in the chancel at the time of the holy communion, not only tarried there himself, neither communicating nor ministering bare-headed and uncovered, reverently kneeling; but also permitting the people there to continue, the chancel and choir full, kneeling and knocking their breasts. Which manner is yet used in all the diocese, without any re|formation or gainsay of him or any his officers.

22. ITEM, Whereas superstitious praying upon

beads is not only ungodly, but reproved in the king's majesty's injunctions; the said bishop meet|ing many with beads in their hands never rebuked any of them.

23. ITEM, The said bishop being in the pulpit, and seeing divers corpses within the church, with a great number of lights upon them, never spoke against any of them.

24. ITEM, Whereas the ordinance willeth, that no children be baptized but upon the Sunday, or holy-day, (only cases of necessity excepted) he, ha|ving two children himself born without danger, caused one of them to be baptized on the week day. And by his example, without any contradiction o•• motion of reformation, it is used, as it hath been accustomed, in all the diocese commonly, contrary to the book of ordinance in that behalf.

25. ITEM, From his first coming into the dio|cese, he hath had, and yet hath his only study, labour, and practice, to survey land, and to look for mines, &c. neglecting his own bounden duty to ap|ply to his book and preaching.

26. ITEM, He keepeth no manner of hospitality, but hath his servants' table in one parlour with him, lest any strangers should approach his servants being at their meat.

27. ITEM, He is commonly talking not of godli|ness, but of worldly matters, as baking, brewing, inclosing, ploughing, mining of mill-stones, dis|charging of tenants, and such like, not only at his table, but also most commonly at other places.

28. ITEM, That he hath warned divers tenants out of their lands, which they and their ancestors have enjoyed for their rents, these hundred years and more, and occupied with tillage; which he said he would inclose, and being sued to by poor men, because of quietness, he answered, The crows shall eat the corn, rather than ye shall have any profit thereof.

29. ITEM, When the vicars choral of St. David's, for relief of their hospitality, had an island of his called the Bishop's-isle, for 40s. rent, which he let to a chaplain of his for 5l. by the year; and where, at the suit of the said vicars it was granted by the bishop in the whole chapter, that the vicars should have it for years at 40s. rent, and pay 20l. entry; he now covetously, and against his promise openly made, denieth the same, except the vicars would give 50l.

30. ITEM, He caused the curate of St. David's to warn the tenants out of their said lands in the pul|pit, to the great offence of the people, who were wont to have God's word preached there; and so they said to the curate at that time.

31. ITEM, To the ploughing of a pasture not a|bove ten days work, in lent, anno 1549, he had 32 ploughs in one day, and those ploughs the priest bade in the church, contrary to the statute of Go|mortha in that behalf provided, and to the evil ex|ample of gentlemen in that country.

32. ITEM, Where the king's majesty, of godly remembrance, Henry VIII. appointed at Brecknock a school-master, usher, reader of divinity, a minister, and certain scholars, and for the maintenance there|of appointed 40l. and 12l. of the pensions and reve|nues of Brecknock: the bishop finding it so furnish|ed, has neither reader nor minister there, covetously converting their stipends to his own use.

33. ITEM, The bishop was twice in one day pre|sented in the great court, held in the court of Caer|marthen, for inclosing and covetously incroaching on the king's high-way.

34. ITEM, He covetously continueth purchasing of lands, buying of cattle, merchandise, and other things, being indebted a notable sum to the king's majesty, as may appear by his accounts in the court of tenths and first fruits.

35. ITEM, Whereas one Lewis John Tho. Bool, putting from him his lawful wedded wife, upon Christmas-eve last, without banns, had marriage solemnized with a concubine of his in a church within three miles of the bishop's abode at that time: the bishop since knowing the premises, has not only of a covetous mind entered into a familiary with the said Lewis, and bought a piece of land of him, but also

ever since has (to have his lands cheap) left both the parties and priest unpunished, using him so familiar|ly, that whereas a sumner cited the parties to appear among other criminals for the same fact, the bishop commanded the said sumner to let him alone, and so they all remain unpunished.

36. ITEM, Whereas the whole chapter of St. David's, (as it was thought) was in assured amity with the bishop, they all being his officers or chap|lains, he procured them to be impleaded with a writ of quo warranto in the King's-bench, keeping the writ with him secretly, at least three months, not delivering it but only ten days before the day of their appearance, the parties being seven days jour|ney from London.

37. ITEM, He is a wilful wrong doer, and trou|bler of men in their rights, entering upon their law|ful possessions, stirring thereby much contention, and so notably known to the offence of the country.

38. ITEM, Whereas the bishop aforesaid was ap|pointed in August, 1547, and consecrated in Sep|tember following, he never came into the diocese himself, nor sent or appointed any officer there before the month of April, 1548, to the great disorder of the king's majesty's subjects, lack of reformation, and administration of justice.

39. ITEM, During his visitation, the said bishop did not endeavour himself to see reformation, but rode surveying of lands, appointing vain inclosures, and such other things. Which are no parts of the office to him committed, nor yet proper at that time.

40. ITEM, The visitation finished, he neither appointed his officers to examine the clergy of the places of scripture to them appointed to be studied in the same visitation, nor has hitherto effectually gone about any good reformation, according to the ordinances of this realm.

41. ITEM, The bishop since his coming to the diocese never administered the communion, saving only twice that he ordained certain deacons; but in every thing (save that he sometimes preaches) or|dereth himself like no minister, nor man of his vocation.

42. ITEM, He hath so alienated himself from study, that he preaches indiscreetly, discrediting the office, not only untruly reporting the scriptures, but also preaching the ten commandments in one place in declaration of the eighth of them, for lack of stuff, the pith of his matter was matrimony of priests.

43. ITEM, The 13th day of September last, he ordained certain deacons, and making his exhorta|tion, he taught that a man was not bound to forgive, but to him that asketh forgiveness: and being admo|nished by a letter better to declare the same, because that divers were offended with that doctrine; he hath hitherto deferred so to do, to the maintenance of malicious hearts in these parts.

44. ITEM, Since the first day of August, 1549, unto the feast of Candlemas last, he hath preached but two or three sermons, of which one was preach|ed at Aberguilly upon St. Stephen's day last, to a great audience that understood no English, being but a mile from Caermarthen, an English town, and chief of his diocese.

45. ITEM, Since his ordinary visitation which was finished in July 1548, he hath neither preached, nor caused to be preached in the towns of Tinby, Pembroke, nor Haverford, being English towns, not much distant from the place of his abode.

46. ITEM, The churches appropriated to the bishop have no paraphrases in English, and few of them Bibles.

47. ITEM, The churches of the diocese for the most part, and the clergy almost every one, lack paraphrases, notwithstanding there hath been these two years, and yet be a great number of them to be sold in the diocese.

48. ITEM, To declare his folly in riding, he useth a bridle with white studs and snaffle, white Scottish stirrups, with spurs, a Scottish pad, with a little staff of three quarters long, which he hath not only used superstitiously these four or ••••ve years, in conversa|tion oftentimes boasting wha•• ••ountries he has com|passed and measured with the same staff.

49. ITEM, He hath made a vow, that he will ne|ver

wear a cap: for he says, it is comely wearing of a hat, and so cometh in his long gown and hat, both into the cathedral church, and to the best town of his diocese, sitting in that sort in the king's great sessions, and in his consistories, making himself a mock to the people.

50. ITEM, He said that he would go to the parli|ament on foot: and to his friends that dissuaded him, alledging that it is not meet for a man in his place; he answered, I care not for that, it is no sin.

51. ITEM, Having a son, he went before the midwife to the church, presenting the child to the priest, and giving his name Samuel, with a solemn interpretation of the name, appointing also two god|fathers and two godmothers, contrary to the ordi|nances, making his son a monster, and himself a laughing-stock throughout all the country.

52. ITEM, He daily useth whistling to his child, and says that he understood his whistle when he was but three days old. And being advertised by his friends, that men laughed at his folly, he answered; They whistle to their horses and dogs, and I am contented: they might also be contented that I whistle to my child, and so whistleth to him daily, all friendly admonition neglected.

53. ITEM, In his ordinary visitation, among other his surveys, he surveyed Milford Haven, where he espied a seal-fish tumbling. And he crept down to the water side, and continued whistling there the space of an hour, persuading the company that laugh|ed at him, that by his whistling he made the fish to tarry there.

54. ITEM, Speaking of scarcity of herrings, he laid the fault to the covetousness of fishers, who in the time of plenty took so many, that they destroyed the breeders.

55. ITEM, Speaking of the alteration of the coin, he wished that what metal soever it was of, the penny should be in weight worth a penny of the same metal.

56. FOR a conclusion, The said bishop in all his doings, since he came to his diocese, hath behaved himself most unmeet for a man of his vocation, being for a minister of justice, an abuser of the authority to him committed; for a teacher of the truth, and reformer of superstition, a main|tainer of superstition without any doctrine of re|formation; for a liberal and hospitable, an insatia|ble covetous man; for a diligent overseer, wilful and negligent; for an example of godly wisdom, given wholly to folly; for merciful, a cruel re|venger; and further, for a peace maker, a sower of discord. And so in all his behaviour a discre|diter and slanderer of his vocation, and a deceiver of all men, that had hope he should do any reformation. For he yet hath neither brought into his diocese, nor hath belonging unto him, any learned preacher. But such learned preachers as he found in the diocese at his entry, he so vexeth and disquieteth, that they cannot attend to apply their preaching for the defence of their livings, against his quarrelsome inventions, and unjust pre|tensions.

AFTER these wrangling articles and informations were given up, then the bishop was called for to answer, the hearing whereof was committed unto Dr. Wotton, and sir John Mason, knight, who likewise received the bishop's answers to the afore|said articles, the copy and effect of which answers hereafter follow.

The ANSWER of Dr. ROBERT FARRAR, Bishop of St. DAVID'S, to the ARTICLES ministered against him.

TO the 1st article he says, That after lawful admonition in the king's majesty's name and authority, from the said bishop (being then at Lon|don) given to the chaunter and chapter of St. Da|vid's, for visitation at a certain day there to be entered; the said bishop himself for such purpose coming into the diocese, knowing also that the chaunter, and one of the canons of that church, and late before commissaries in that diocese, had not only by their own evil examples and winking at the faults of others, or neglecting to correct the same, left there among priests and others much detestable whoredom; but had also spoiled the cathedral church of crosses, chalices, and censers, with other plate, jewels, and ornaments of the

church, to the value of four or five hundred marks or more, for their own private lucre, (the church remaining even yet very vile, and in great decay) and had also made further under their chapter seal many blanks, to the number of twelve or more, vacant seats, without the king's mijesty's licence or knowledge; therefore he brought with him one Edmund Farlee, batchelor of law, commended by Dr. Young and Dr. Nevison to him, as a man sufficient in faithful truth, and learning, to be his chancellor. To whom he granted and sealed a commission for that purpose, giving credit to him in his faculty, conce••••••ng the draught and form thereof. But the king's majesty's stile of supre|macy was fully set forth in the same commission. Whether there were any default of formal words in setting forth of the king's authority therein, he is not certain; for he committed the doing thereof to his chancellor, who was commended to him for a learned man. And the bishop says, that he ne|ver did ground the commission upon any foreign usurped laws or authority: neither did his said chancellor by force of such authority visit any deanry of the said diocese, nor gave any admonition to the chaunter and chapter there, by force of that commission, for any like intent or purpose, but only offered in the king's majesty's name and authority (to the said bishop committed) to enter visitation of the chaunter and chapter of the cathe|dral church, at another day to be executed by the bishop himself, for the reformation of the chapter church, and ministers there, according to the king's gracious ordinances and injunctions in that behalf. But the aforesaid chaunter and canon of the church, before the fight of any commission, stubbornly an|swered the said chancellor, that they would not receive him, nor any other to visit them, except he were of their chapter. And further, desiring to see his commission, he delivered the same into their hands, who would not deliver it him again. And so it may appear that he did nothing by force of that commission.

2. TO the 2d articles he says, That they open|ed not unto him the danger of any statute, to his knowledge and remembrance. Nevertheless, he not knowing any default in the said commission, and certainly minding with all diligence the faithful execution of his office of preaching, and visiting the whole diocese in his own person, by the king's majesty's authority, for the conservation of God's peace and the king's, in that dangerous time of rebellion, then beginning to arise in other places, did neglect and laid aside the stubborn be|haviour and wicked doings of the said chaunter and canon, and agreed with them, omitting all contempts and reproaches towards him and his said chancellor, and all manner of contention by them done, fearing else that through their unquietness some tu••••lt might have risen among the people there; and did also make the said chaunter his chancellor, and canon his commissary, according to their ambitious desires, to appease their malice in that dangerous time. And further he says, that he made collation to sir John Evans of the vicarage of Penbrin, what day or time he remem|bereth not, by any old foreign usurped authority, but by the king's authority only, making full men|tion of the king's stile and authority in the same collation.

3. and 4. To the 3d and 4th he says, That whereas he had granted to George Constantine the office of a register, who brought unto him a com|mission for the chancellorship, to be sealed and deli|vered to the aforesaid chaunter of St. David's, desi|ring the said bishop to seal it, he utterly refused so to do, because the said George had put therein a clause of admitting clerks into benefices: which authority the said bishop would not in any wise grant, reserv|ing the examination and admission of clerks only to himself, for the avoiding of wicked bribery and partiality. Whereupon the said George and the chaunter promised the said bishop by their faith and truth, before three or four honest witnesses, not to execute that clause of institution into benefices, but only to those clerks whom the bishop did first examine and admit, and send unto them to be instituted and inducted; upon which promise the bishop sealed the said commission, and after that time the parsonage of Haskard being void, and by reason of lapse devolved to the bishop's gift for that time, he conferred it on one Henry Goddard, with a collation of institution by the king's autho|rity, not extolling any foreign usurped authority. In which collation or institution is fully mentioned the renunciation of the bishop of Rome, and all foreign power and authority, with the full stile

of his majesty's supremacy. And this collation of the church of Huskard he gave, before he under|stood or knew that his chancellor had given out the like, and he surely thinketh his collation was the first. That notwithstanding, the said George Con|stantine, and the said chaunter having a vowson determined by reason of lapse, admitted and insti|tuted one John Gough, to the said parsonage of Hask|ard, by virtue of their expired vowson, and sealed his institution with a wrong seal, (because they had not the right seal of office to that purpose) contrary to their former earnest promise, and the bishop's right, and without any manner of warning or fore-knowledge thereof to him given; which thing by them untruly done, the said George Constan|tine nevertheless came to the bishop's house and there did write with his own hand the letters of in|duction for the said Henry Goddard, priest, com|prising in the same the whole sum of the institution or collation which the said bishop had made, and the same George did seal the said letters of induc|tion with his own hand, finding no manner of fault therein, nor making any word or mention of his and the chaunter's former wrong doing, but so departed for that time. And afterwards he came again, and shewed the bishop what they had done before concerning the parsonage aforesaid. And further, the said defendant saith, that he did not molest the said John Gough, but lawfully did call him in the king's majesty's name, not for any title of patronage, but to know whether he was parson of Haskard, and how he was thereto admitted, instituted, and inducted, and by what authority he presumed to preach there, without the king's majesty's licence, with other like lawful demands; whereunto he sturdily refused to give answer, and saith, that the article contained in his accusation, namely, "Item, He is interrogated under what title he holds the rectory of Haskard," was not ministered unto the party in that sort, so far as he knoweth, but in these words or like, "How did he get admission into the rectory," &c.

5. TO the 5th he saith, That albeit George Constantine, register, did wilfully withdraw his bounden service due to the king's highness, and to the said defendant in the king's name, refusing to attend either by himself, or his sufficient deputy for writing of records and other instruments, yet the said defendant made his collations and institu|tions in his own name, not by his own authority, nor by another, save only the king's authority, accord|ing as he hath declared in his answer to the first arti|cle, expressing in them the king's supremacy with the bishop's own name and seal of office, as he ought to do, according to the provision of the king's statute in such a case.

6. TO the 6th he saith, That the vicarage of Penbrin being void he, as right patron thereof to his knowledge, conferred it to John Evans, clerk, with letters of institution and induction; and after, when the king's presentation came to him for one David Jenkin, clerk, he desired fourteen days re|spite at that time, either to shew ancient record for his right, and then the matter to stand to the determination of the law, or else if he shewed not, both he and his clerk to give place to the king's clerk, which condition was by sir Thomas Jones, knight, Dr. Meyrick, and the said David Jenkin, received; and an institution with an induction was made conditionally to be put in the hands of sir Thomas Jones, knight, for safe custody of the king's clerks' behalf, after the fourteen days to be executed at the hands of the said defendant, if he failed to shew. Within which time the said defend|ant did shew an old ancient record, declaring the full right of patronage on the said defendant's be|half, and so that institution and induction was never by the said defendant put in execution. Ne|vertheless, the said David Jenkin (contrary to his promise and oath, giving thereupon his right hand to the said sir Thomas Jones, knight) took advan|tage by the said writing, without knowledge of the said defendant. After which time the lord chancellor, by his letters written to the said defend|ant, advertised him, to admit one John ap Powell, clerk, presented by virtue of the vowson which the lord chancellor judged to be good▪ and so to be admitted notwithstanding his former presenta|tion, whereby he would not bar the other man's right. And so this defendant made one collation, two institutions, and three mandates, doing no wrong thereby to his knowledge. And further (he saith) that there was no business nor unquiet|ness about the possession of the said vicarage, but this defendant giving place, was content to lose his right for that time.

7. TO the 7th he saith, That as he now re|membereth, he never decreed any caveats to be made in benefices, neither did institute nor cause to be inducted any into benefices, being known to him litigious.

8. TO the 8th he saith, That because the arch|deacons be absent from their offices, and have not had faithful diligent officials, he hath directed his mandates to them or their officials, or to other law|ful persons in that behalf so far as he knoweth.

9 and 10. The 9th and 10th articles he denieth as very untrue.

11. TO the 11th, the saith, that whereas sir Tho|mas Jones, knight, advertised him, that Thomas Prichard had celebrated matrimony in a private house, betwixt a certain priest and woman, whose sister had refused the same, the said Prichard leav|ing his own cure unserved on that Sunday, this de|fendant did put the same Thomas Prichard to pe|nance for so doing, marrying them without banns. And whereas he made the said Thomas Prichard, who is a batchelor of law, his commissary, it was for the respect of learning in the law, thereby faith|fully to execute his office according to justice. And the said defendant did never favour nor bear with any man wittingly in his wrong doings. He con|fesseth that the matrimony was solemnized in a pri|vate church, and that the cure was that day unserv|ed.

12. TO the 12th he saith, That it is slanderous and utterly untrue. And that one John Hughes, priest, made Sage Hughes (daughter to his step|mother) a harlot at eleven years of age, and after married openly to another man, being minister thereof himself. After which doing he took her a|way from her husband again, and kept her alledging a former contract. And when the said John Hughes was lawfully convicted before the said bish|op, in open court at Caermarthen, of that his abo|minable adultery, claiming the king's pardon there|of, yet the said Sage confessed, that he had to do with her the night before that day of appearance. Which later crime he denied. Nevertheless she proved with child, affirming, both before the birth and after, the child to be his, the midwife and o|thers being witnesses thereof. Yet notwithstand|ing, George Constantine, as a wicked encourage•• of the said priest in his naughty doings, with the help of the aforesaid chaunter, first uttered 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Meredith Thomas was father of the said child: which matter was ordered in the ecclesiastical court according to justice, without any partial affection of the said bishop, or of any other to his knowledge.

13. TO the 13th he saith, It is utterly false so far as he knoweth.

14. TO the 14th he saith, That by lawful se|questration in the king's majesty's name, he com|mitted the custody of the fruits of Langatnoke and Lanvihangel to two honest men, for the behoof of the king's first fruits and tenths, and of the next in|incumbent, and further he did not meddle nor mi|nister any cause of unquietness in that behalf.

15. TO the 15th he saith, That he made a col|lation, (lawful, as he supposeth) of the prebend of Lanbister, to Stephen Greene, his chaplain, with|out any covenant or colour, and further he did not meddle in that behalf.

16. TO the 16th he saith, All is untrue as far as he knoweth.

17. TO the 17th he saith, It is untrue for his own part, and his officers, as far as he knoweth.

18. TO the 18th he saith, It is untrue as far as he knoweth, and that he did certify the recusants justly, as he thinketh, because they refused wilfully to pay the king's whole subsidy of their whole divi|dends, as it standeth in the king's book, pertaining to the canons resident.

19. TO the 19th he saith, That after a travel of fourteen miles, being not able fasting to celebrate the communion, in a chapel within the house of sir Thomas Jones, knight, one of the kings majesty's honourable council of the marches of Wales, this defendant celebrated matrimony without receiving the communion for the causes abovesaid, betwixt Mr. Griffith Rice, and the daughter of the said sir

Thomas Jones, according to the king's ordinances. And Thomas Prichard, priest administered the holy communion there without any superstition, to this defendant's knowledge: and the married persons not disposed to receive the holy communion, he could not compel them against their consciences, and saith, that he did not dispense with them, as it is contained in the article.

To the slanderous and untrue CHARGE of maintenance of SUPERSTITION, &c. he saith, that he did not main|tain any SUPERSTITION, contrary to the King's Ordinances and Injunctions, but abhorring in his Heart all SUPERSTITION, hath travelled and doth travel to abolish the same by True Doctrine, and do|ing as much as he can, with the King's Peace, among his People there.

20. TO the 20th he saith, That George Con|stantine, in the third year of his majesty's reign, not regarding the dangerous time of rebellion in other places, rashly caused to be pulled down, without any authority known to this defendant, the communion altar in Caermarthen church, by his own presumptuous mind, appointing the use thereof in another place of the church, not without grudge of the people. Wherefore the bishop fearing tu|mult, commanded the vicar to set up the commu|nion table (for the time) near to the place where it was before.

21. TO the 21st he saith, That he has been divers times in the quire of Caermarthen, and hath tarried there in the communion time, not communicating himself, and that in every church where he cometh on the holy-day to preach, or to pray, he kneeled in the quire bare-headed, as well at matins before the communion, as at evening song after, without any superstition: he thinketh it not necessary for the communion's sake to leave kneeling to Christ. But he hath diligently taught the people not to kneel nor knock to the visible shew, or external shew of the sacrament. And the choirs of Caermarthen and other places there, are not close at the sides, so that the people may come in and go out at their pleasure. Moreover the king's ordinances do not authorize him to rebuke the people for knocking on their breasts, in token of repentance of their sins; nor for kneeling, in token of submission to God for mercy in Christ.

22. TO the 22d he saith, That in the time of the rebellion in Devonshire and Cornwall, threat|ening to come into Wales, he teached the people the true form of prayer, according to God's holy word, and declaring the prayer upon the beads to be vain and superstitious, yet durst nor for fear of tumult forcibly take from any man his beads, with|out authority. And touching the not reproving of such as he should meet, wearing beads, he re|membereth not that he hath so done, unless it were in the rebellion time, at which time he durst not re|buke such offenders.

23. TO the 23d he saith, That he being in the pulpit, his face towards the people, did not see the lights, if any were set up about the corpse behind his back till after that he came down from the pul|pit. But he with George Constantine and the afore|said chaunter, fitting in the church, in Caermar|then, to ••ear causes, and seeing the vicar with other priests, with song and lights bringing a corpse up to the church, called forthwith the vicar and priests, and rebuked them in open court, as cormorants and ••avens, flying about the dead carcass for lucre and sake.

24. TO the 24th he saith, That he caused the one child being born with great peril of death to the mother, and itself lying for dead a certain space after, to be christened on the working day: the other child was christened on the working day, be|cause both father and mother, and all other people there were in peril of death by reason of the sudden sweat, which all men feared at that time. And touching the rest of the accusation, which is, that by that example, it is used after the old accustomed fashion, he knoweth no such thing.

To the CHARGE of COVETUOUSNESS be saith, His do|ings prove the contrary, as his Neighbours know.

25. AND the 25th article he utterly denieth.

26. TO the 28th he saith, That his hall at A|berguilly

being ruinous, he useth for his hall a great chamber adjoining, for himself and his servants, and all manner of strangers, and besides twenty persons in his house daily. What other hospitality he keep|eth, honest neighbours can testify.

27. TO the 27th he saith, That his talk is ac|cording to his hearers, that is to say, reverently and truly of faith, love, and honest life, according to scripture to like auditors; and to other irreverent and rash turmoilers of scripture and holy doctrine, he doth talk of honest worldly things with godly intent; and that he doth not most commonly talk of such things as are expressed in this article, but when he hath honest occasion so to do.

28. The 28th he saith, is untrue, and that he hath warned no man out of his lands; but where he is destitute of necessary provision▪ and would have part of his own domain from certain freehold|ers, having it only from year to year at pleasure, he cannot obtain it without brawling. Wherefore he suffereth them to keep it even still, against right and reason. And touching the rest, that he had rather the crows should eat it, &c, he never spake any such word.

29. TO the 29th he saith. That whereas his pre|decessor bishop Barloe, did let to farm the isle of Ramsey to one William Brown, after whose hands this defendant received it into his own possession, the vicars of St. David's being dispossessed of it long before; he did let it over to Strephen Green, for 40s. the ground, as it was before, and 3•• more for seals, coneys▪ and fowls there: and he knoweth of no right the vicar's choral had therein, who did re|fuse when this defendant did diligently upon rea|sonable conditions offer the same unto them: and this defendant made no promise unto them, as is contained in the article.

30. TO the 30th he saith▪ He knoweth not but that he advertized his bailiff to warn the freeholders, and others having his d••main in rent, during plea|sure, to leave it at a lawful day to this defendant's necessary use▪ but did not cause the curate to do as is contained in the article to his remembrance.

31. TO the 31st he saith, That he knoweth not what the priest bade in the church, nor how many ploughs there came, undesired of this defendant. But he knoweth certainly, that he desired no man's labour but for his money.

32. TO the 32d he saith, That he knoweth not any such appointment of schools and revenues there, but he found there (after the departing of bi|shop Barloe) a schoolmaster, an usher being a priest, and twenty scholars, which he hath hitherto maintained better than he found it, to his know|ledge: he did never convert any penny thereof to his own use, albeit he might lawfully have done the same.

33. THE 33d he saith, is all untrue, so far as he knoweth.

34. TO the 34th article he saith, He never pur|chased more than three parcels, whereof one was 2s. 8d. by the year; the second, 3s. 4d. and the third, 1l. 6s. 8d. or thereabout, by the year; the rest he denieth.

35. TO the 35th he saith, That he never bought of Lewis John Thomas, his good land cheap, but after 40 years purchase, not knowing at that time any such thing as is contained in the article against the said Lewis John Thomas. Neither bade he the sumner to ••et him alone, but as soon as he heard any thing of it, commanded the sumner to cite him; and so he was cited in this defendant's house, occa|sioning him to break his bargain: to which Lewis the defendant said these words. If you would give me your land with a house full of gold, I cannot, no•• will I suffer you to keep a woman. Then the said Lewis affirming the latter woman to be his wife, and the first unknown to the defendant, he brought the said Lewis to the consistory for trial, where it hangeth yet and also by lawful process excommu|nicated the first woman, for that she would not by any means appear in the court to claim or to confess marriage with the said Lewis, and so she standeth this day at the point of Significavit.

36. TO the 36th he saith, That whereas the chaunter, and R. M. with other canons there, would not obey the king's godly injunctions, concerning the finding of a school for poor men's children, a

lecture of divinity, sermons on the Sundays, repair|ing of their church and mansion houses, decent order and ministration there; but stubbornly counted themselves (with the chaunter) to be a body politic, without regard of the bishop and his lawful moni|tions, being himself named in their shire statutes a deacon, having also their dean-stall in the choir with a prebend thereunto annexed, and the chief place in the chapter-house, with a key of their chapter-seal, being also by the king's majesty's com|mission appointed their ordinary: yet would they not in any wise deliver unto him a book of their sta|tutes, for the better knowledge of his and their du|ties, nor shew unto him their records and monu|ments, for declaration of the king's right and his. For which cause this defendant, by writ of quo warranto▪ lawfully called them to answer, which yet lieth asleep, to the loss of the king's majesty's right. The time of delivery of the said writ▪ he remem|bereth not.

37. THE 37th, he saith, is all false, as far as he knoweth.

To the CHARGE of WILFUL NEGLIGENCE he saith that he hath used to his power Willing Diligence.

38. TO the 36th he saith, That he being attend|ant (according to his bounden duty) to serve the king's highness during the time of the par|liament, from the first unto the last day; then im|mediately after repaired into his diocese, and he might not trust R. M. the chaunter, and George Constantine to execute faithfully the jurisdiction, because they had before (through their slanderous life, and not punishing misdoers) left the country in great enormity of filthy whoredom. And saith, further, that one cause why he appointed not an officer, &c. was for that he lacked his letters of au|thority of jurisdiction.

39 and 40. THE 39th and 40th, he saith are un|true.

41. TO the 4••st he saith▪ That how often he did minister the communion he doth not remember▪ but in all other things so far as he knoweth, he hath studied to order himself according to his vocation, and as far as he believeth, acted like a minister.

42. TO the 42d he saith, That he hath not alie|nated himself from study, neither preached indis|creetly, nor reported the scriptures untruly to his knowledge: (but he hath been very much hinder|ed both from study and preaching, by the malicious, crafty, and covetous behaviour of the forenamed persons.) And that he did set forth the doctrine of honest marriage, as well of all other men as of priests, even as the scripture then rehearsed did mi|nister occasion.

43. TO the 43d he saith, That reciting the words of Luke, "If thy brother have offended against thee, blame him, and if he repent, forgive him, and if he have offended against thee seven times in one day, and seven times in the day he be converted unto thee, saying, I am sorry, forgive him:" he said farther these words in effect▪ It appeareth by this place of scripture, that we are not bound (ex|cept he repent) to forgive him; but we are bound to pray to God to forgive him, and to give him grace to repent, that he may forgive him.

44. TO the 44th he saith▪ That he hath preached right often at Caermarthen, as well as at other pla|ces▪ and, he saith, that a great number at Aber|guilly do understand English very well.

45. TO the 45th he saith, That after he had preached first at Brecknock, Caerma••then▪ Swansey, Laugharne, Tinby, Pembroke, Hereford, St. Da|vid's, Cardigan, with other notable towns; he hath since that time preached to •• g••eat many other poor churches, but not in Tinby nor Pembroke: but for Hereford he standeth in doubt. And whereas he brought with him at the first a learned preacher, of godly life, the ungodly stubborn behaviour of the persons before ••••••ned, wearied him away. And whereas he had engaged another learned man to come into his diocese to preach, George Constantine by his discouragement advised him from this de|fendant.

46. TO the 4••th he saith, That in all his churches appropriated, there is both Bible and paraphrases so far as he knoweth▪. and if the priests there would not shew him the lack thereof, yet should the offi|cials declare it unto him▪ that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 might be amended (by his will) without delay.

47. TO the 47th he saith, That George Constan|tine covetously ingrossed into his hands a great number of paraphrases; and this defendant hath admonished the clergy to buy every one, for his dis|charge: and if the said George being official of two archdeaconries, and other officials in their office would declare unto him what churches do lack Bi|bles and paraphrases, ••e would cause it to be amen|ded as much as in him lieth.

To the CHARGE of FOLLY he saith, That his desire is in true simple manner of his Words, Deeds, and Ho|nest Behaviour, through God's Grace, to shew Godly Wisdom.

48. TO the 48th he saith, that he thinketh no folly in the decent colour or fashion with honest use of saddle, bridle, stirrups, staff, and other like necessary or convenient things; and saith, that he used a saddle made after the Scottish fashion, with stirrups of iron unvarnished, and like spurs; and black bridle without studs, the bit and snaffle white as other men's are.

49. TO the 49th he saith, That when he goeth abroad in winter, he weareth a hat to bear off rain and snow, and in summer to shadow him from the sun, without any vow of superstition or offence to the people.

50. TO the 50th he saith, That all is one to him, to ride or walk, as cause requireth▪ and whether he said as is contained in the article or not, he remem|bereth not. Howbeit he doth use to go on foot.

51. TO the 51st he saith, That after lawful prayer it pleased God to give him a son begotten and born in honest marriage; whom he therefore caused to be named Samuel, presenting him to the minister to be received into Christ's church as a poor member of Christ: by the holy sacrament of baptism was this done openly in the cathedral church, with earnest gravity, and without offending any man; and also two wives, being before at variance, desired both to be godmothers, which were both received to make unity between them, not knowing any law to the contrary, nor any offence thereby conceived of the people.

52. TO the 52d he saith, That he doth use with gravity all honest loving entertainment to his child, to encourage him hereafter willingly at his father's mouth, to receive wholesome doctrine of the true fear and love of God: and saith, that he hath whistled to his child, but said not that the child un|derstood it, and that he answered to one that found fault with it, as is contained in the article.

53. TO the 53d he saith, That he was never sur|veyor, but went to see Milford-Haven for honest purpose, and not to survey it; and for that he at the sight of a seal whistled in his fist, such as meant folly might turn it to their purpose. But it is not true that he stood whistling an hour to the fish, nor that any fault was found with it, nor any such answer made by him to his knowledge.

54. TO the 54th he saith, That if he did say, the destroying of the fry hindereth plenty of fish, he thinketh the same not against reason: but he re|membereth not to have said as is contained in the article.

55. TO the 55th he saith, That he remembereth not that ever he said as they alledge.

56. TO the slanderous, untrue, and ungodly con|clusion he saith, That George Constantine▪ with other his adversaries before-armed, and their ad|herents, not regarding the fear of God, and their ••ounden duty of loving obedience towards God and the king, and his true ministers, have too much slanderously with false tongues, contumelious words, and spiteful deeds, laboured by all means to discre|dit and deface the king's gracious authority to him committed; who 〈…〉〈…〉 diocese, hath endeavoured himself to show his faithful mi|nistry by his true honest doing, and to use his au|thority according to his ••ocation to God's glory and the king's honour. And that he hath been diligent in teaching of truth, reforming of supersti|tion, free of hospitality, diligent in overseeing with godly wisdom, peace, and mercifulness, as he trust|eth in God, may be truly approved. And he is able justly to charge his adversaries with all the faults herein by them most unjustly and slanderous|ly against him objected. And he doth marvel great|ly,

that George Constantine, with other his adhe|rents, are not ashamed maliciously to object (for the intent to slander him) molesting of preachers found there. For truth it is that he hath molested none, but hath justly brought under Significabit, one Mo|rice a preacher, living lewdly, for his stoborn beha|viour and malicious contempts, even yet continuing in his wilful contempt and irregularity. And he hath (to his knowledge) justly certified Hugh Raw|lins, parson of Tinby, for his wilful refusal o•• two other parsonages, shamefully deceiving the king's majesty by colour of commission, as appeareth ••y the same. And as for the railing, contemptuous preaching of Rowland Meyrick, and the unlearned arrogant preaching of the chaunter, he referreth to descreet hearers, which were offended thereat, as they shewed this defendant. And this deponent brought into his diocese both learned preachers, and learned men in the law, to his very great charges, which men George Constantine with his adherents hath wearied away.

AFTER these answers were exhibited by the virtu|ous and good bishop against the frivolous articles of his said adversaries, Hugh Rawlins and Thomas Lee; then came in for witness, upon the said arti|cles and informations, Gorege Constantine, and the chaunter of St. David's: against whom the bishop first laid exceptions, then also exhibited matters jus|tificatory, in order to exculpate himself. The whole process was long and tedious, and during the whole time of the examination of witnesses, the bishop was obliged to continue in London upon the allegation of his adversaries, which was, that if the bishop should depart into his diocese, he would hinder them of their proofs. About three weeks after the return 〈…〉〈…〉 witnesses having been examined▪ publication of their witnesses was granted; after which it was a fortnight before the the bishop could obtain a copy of their depositions, the whole thereof being so voluminous.

THEN the bishop required time to make excep|tions, and to justify, and to have a commission, which was granted: yet it is objected, that the bishop was appointed so to travel with the expedi|tion of his matter, that he should have sued out his commission, and have made return thereof at All|hallow-tide; but there was no such decree put in writing. And it was not possible for the bishop to do it in so short a time, for the following reasons.

1st, IT was the latter end of July ere he came home to St. David's, where he began his visitation, which before was appointed.

2d, HE was by force of law constrained to answer at the bar daily, during all the time of the great ses|sions at Caermarthen, in defence of his just cause against the pretended matter of Praemunire, which his adversaries of mere malice have procured against him.

3dly, THE said adversaries, to molest him further, did privily pack a quest of ignorant persons of no reputation, and indicted him upon the words of Rawlins's information, as appeareth by a copy of the indictment, intending thereby to make the mat|ter sound more heinous, notwithstanding that the same cause dependeth before the king's high council undetermined.

4thly, HE was appointed by the commissioners, before his departure from 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to pay 200l. (which was arrearages) into the courts of first fruits and tenths, at Bartholomew day then next follow|ing; which payment he made accordingly, notwith|standing that his adversaries wrought means to have made him break his day; namely, one Edward Harbert, gent. who hath a personage of his to farm, kept back his rent to the very last day, because that money should not help to serve his turn; and so by crafty cavilling detaineth it still in his hand with a year's rent and a half more; for the said Edward Harbert is an adherent of the said bishop's ad|versaries.

5thly, THE book of their depositions is so great, that it requireth a long time to peruse. And also the greatest part of their witnesses were utterly un|known by the bishop and all his; and also dwelling in so many sundry places of the diocese among the mountains and elsewhere, scarcely within the circuit of 200 miles.

ITEM, Another great sessions held at Caermar|then in the month of October last, during which time he was attendant there, as is aforesaid. All

which causes considered, being also in the time of his ordinary visitation, which he did execute him|self, he could not make ready his exceptions in shorter time.

THE bishop dispatched his man towards London, October 23, who ever since hath been and is atten|dant in the same suit, for the obtaining the commis|sion for proof of this matter against his adver|saries.

THUS we have related the first trouble of this good bishop in king Edward's days, to give other bishops warning to be more circumspect, whom they should trust and have about them, Briefly, in few words to conclude this process, bishop Farrar, partly upon the importunate suit of his adversaries, partly upon the finister and unfortunate fall of the good duke of Somerset, by whom he had been before promoted and maintained, having but small favour shewed, was detained in prison till the death of king Edward, and the coming in of queen Mary and the popish religion, whereby a new trouble rose upon him, being now accused and examined for his faith and doctrine. The process of which his trouble here likewise followeth.

AFTER that Dr. Farrar, bishop of St. David's, had been long detained in custody under sureties, in the reign of king Edward, not for any just cause for his part deserved, but by reason that he had been promoted by the duke of Somerset, and now after his full he found fewer friends to support him against such as wanted his bishopric; at length after the decease of king Edward, by the coming in of queen Mary, the state of religion begun to be changed and altered: whereby a new trouble rose upon him, be|ing now accused and examined, not for any matter of P••emunire, but for his faith and doctrine. Whereupon he was called before the bishop of Winchester, with bishop Hooper, Mr. Rogers, Mr. Bradford, Mr. Saunders, and others, the 4th of February. On which day he should also with them have been condemned; but his condemnation was deferred, and he sent to prison again, where he con|tinued till February 14. What his examinations and answers were before the said bishop of Win|chester, so much as remained and came to our hands, we have here annexed.

An Examination of Dr. FARRAR, Bishop of St. David's, before STEPHEN GARDINER, Bishop of Winchester, and others.

AT his first coming and kneeling before my lord chancellor, the bishop of Durham, and the bishop of Worcester, who sat at the table; and Mr. Rochester, Mr. Southwel, Mr. Bourne, and others standing at the table's end, the lord chancellor said unto him.

WINCHESTER.

Sir, have you heard how the world goeth here?

FARRAR.

I know not.

WINCH.

What say you? do you not know things abroad, notwithstanding you are a prisoner?

FAR.

No, my lord, I know not.

WINCH.

Lo, what a froward fellow is this!

FAR.

If it please your lordship, how should I know any thing abroad, being a prisoner?

WINCH.

Have you not heard of the coming in of the lord cardinal?

FAR.

I know not my lord cardinal; but I heard that a cardinal was come in, but I did not believe it, and I believe it not yet.

I pray your lordship (said the bishop of Worces|ter) tell him yourself, that he may know what is done.

WINCH.

The queen's majesty and the parlia|ment have restored religion into the same state it was in at the beginning of the reign of king Henry VIII. You are in the queen's debt, and her majesty will be good unto you if you will return unto the catho|lic church.

FAR.

In what state I am concerning my debts to the queen's majesty in the court of Exchequer▪ my lord treasurer knoweth: and the last time that I was before your honour, and the first time also, I shewed you that I had made an oath, never to con|sent nor agree, that the bishop of Rome should have any power or jurisdiction within this realm: and

further I need not reh••arse unto your lordship, you know it well enough.

YOU were once abjured for heresy (said Mr. Bourne) in Oxford.

FAR.

That was I not.

BOURNE.

You were.

FAR.

I was never, it is not true.

BOURNE.

You went from St. David's to Scot|land.

FAR.

That I did not.

BOURNE.

You did.

FAR.

That did I never, but I went from York into Scotland.

BOURNE.

Ah, so said I; you went with Barloe.

FAR.

That is true, but never from St. David's.

BOURNE.

You carried books out of Oxford, to the archbishop of York, lord Lee.

FAR.

That I did not,

BOURNE.

You did.

FAR.

I did not, but I carried old books from St. Oswald's to the archbishop of York.

BOURNE.

You supplanted your master.

FAR.

That I never did in my life.

BOURNE.

By my faith you did.

FAR.

Really I never did in my life, but did shield and save my master from danger, and that I obtained of king Henry VIII. for my true service, I thank God therefore.

MY lord (said Mr. Bourne to my lord chancellor) he hath an ill name in Wales as ever any man had.

FAR.

That is not so. Whoever says so, shall never be able to prove it.

BOURNE.

He has defrauded the queen of divers sums of money.

FAR.

That is utterly untrue; I never defraud|ed king nor queen of one penny in my life, and you shall never be able to prove what you say.

WINCH.

Thou art a false knave.

THEN bishop Farrar stood up unbidden, (for all that while he kneeled) and said, No, my lord, I am a true man, I thank God for it. I was born under king Henry VII. I served king Henry VIII. and king Eward VI. truly, and have served the queen's majesty, that now is, truly with my poor heart and word: more I could not do, and I ne|ver was false, nor shall be by the grace of God.

WINCH.

How sayest thou, wilt thou be re|formable?

FAR.

My lord, if it please your honour, I have made an oath to God, and to king Henry VIII. and also to king Edward, and in that to the queen's majesty, which I can never break while I live▪

DURHAM.

You have made another oath before.

FAR.

No, my lord, I never made an oath before.

DURHAM.

You made a vow.

FAR.

That did I not.

WINCH.

You made a profession to live with|out a wife.

FAR.

No, my lord, i•• it please your honour, that did I never; I made a profession to live chaste, not without a wise.

WORCEST.

You were sworn to him that was master of your house.

FAR.

That was I never.

WINCH.

Well, you are a forward knave: we will have no more to do with you, seeing that you will not come; we will be short with you, and that you shall know within a week.

FAR.

I am as it pleaseth your honour to call me; but I cannot break my oath which your lordship yourself made before me, and gave in example, which confirmed my conscience. Then I can never break that oath whilst I live, though I die for it.

DURHAM.

Well, says he, he standeth upon his oath: call another.

MY lord chancellor then did ring a little bell, and Dr. Farrar said, I pray God save the king and queen's majesties, long to continue in honour to God's glory and their comforts, and the comfort of the whole realm; and I pray God save all your honours, and so departed.

AFTER this examination bishop Farrar remained in prison till the 14th of February, and then was sent down into Wales, there to receive sentence of condemnation. Who then, upon the 26th of Fe|bruary, in the church of Caermarthen, being brought by 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Leyson, esq sheriff of the county of Caermarthen, was there personally pre|sented before Henry, bishop of St. David's, and Constantine the public notary; which Henry there and then discharged the said sheriff, and received him into his own custody, committing him to the keeping of Owen Jones, and thereupon declared unto the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Dr. Farrar, the great mercy and clemency that the king and queen's highness's pleasure was to be offered unto him, which he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 did offer ••nto the said Dr. Farrar; that is to say. That i•• he would submit himself to the laws of this realm▪ and conform himself to the unity of the universal catholic church, he should be re|ceived and pardoned; after that, Dr. Farrar gi|ving no answer to the premises, the said bishop ministered unto him the following articles.

1. WHETHER he believed the marriage of priests lawful by the laws of God, and holy church, or no?

2. WHETHER he believed that in the blessed sacrament of the altar, after the words of conse|cration duly pronounced by the priest, the very body and blood of Christ is really and substantial|ly contained, without the substance of bread and wine?

UNTO which articles the bishop required Dr. Farrar to answer upon his allegiance.

TO which he said he would answer, when he saw a lawful commission, and would make no further answer at that time. Whereupon the said bishop taking no advantage upon the same answer, committed him to the keeper, to be kept in prison until a new monition, and in the mean time to deliberate with himself for his further answer to the premises.

SECOND APPEARANCE of Bishop FARRAR, before HENRY MORGAN, the pretended Bishop of St. DAVID'S, GEORGE CONSTANTINE, his Register, and OTHERS, the last day of February. 1555.

MORGAN, pretended bishop of St. David's, sitting as judge, ministered unto bishop Farrar, there personally present before him, certain articles and interrogatories in writing: which be|ing openly read and ministered unto him, the said bishop Farrar refused to answer, till he might see his lawful commission and authority. Whereupon the pretended bishop of St. David's did pronounce him obstinate, and for the punishment of this his contumacy to be counted pr•• confess••, and did so pronounce him in writing. Which being done, he committed the said bishop to the custody of Owen Jones, until Monday next, being the 4th of March, then to be brought again into the same place, between one and two.

THIRD APPEARANCE of Dr. FARRAR. Bishop of St. DAVID'S.

THE day and place appointed, the said bishop appearing again before the pretended bishop, humbly submitting himself as ready to answer to the articles and positions above mentioned, g••atly required the copy of articles, and a competent term to be assigned unto him, to answer for him|self:

which being granted, and the Thursday next being appointed unto him between one and three, to answer precisely and fully; he was committed again to custody, as above.

FOURTH APPEARANCE of Dr. FARRAR, Bishop of St. DAVID's.

ON Thursday the 7th of March, the bishop personally again appeared, where he exhibit|ed a certain bill in writing, containing in it his an|swer unto certain articles objected and ministered unto him before. Then after Henry the pretended bishop of St. David's offered him again the same articles as before, the tenor whereof tendeth to this effect.

FIRST, That he willed him being a priest to renounce matrimony.

SECONDLY, To grant the natural presence of Christ in the sacrament, under the forms of bread and wine.

THIRDLY, That the mass is a propitiatory sacri|fice for the quick and the dead.

FOURTHLY, That general councils lawfully con|gregated never did, nor never can err.

FIFTHLY, That men are not justified before God by faith only, but that hope and charity are also necessarily required to justification.

SIXTHLY, That the catholic church, which only hath authority to expound scriptures, to define controversies of religion, and to ordain things ap|pertaining to public discipline, is visible, and like a city set upon a mountain, for all men to under|stand.

TO these articles thus objected to him, he refused to subscribe, affirming that they were invented by man, and pertain nothing to the catholic faith. After this, the pretended bishop delivered unto him a copy of the articles, assigning him Monday next following, to answer and subscribe to the same, either affirmatively or negatively.

FIFTH APPEARANCE of Dr. FARRAR, Bishop of St. DAVID's.

UPON Monday, March 11, he appearing a|gain before the bishop, and the aforesaid notary George Constantine, exhibited in a written paper his mind and answer to the aforesaid articles, which the bishop had twice objected against him before, to which articles and answers he did sub|scribe. Upon that the bishop assigned the next Wednesday in the forenoon to hear his final and definitive sentence.

The SIXTH and LAST APPEARANCE of Dr. FAR|RAR, Bishop of St. DAVID's.

ON the Wednesday following, Dr. Farrar personally there appearing, was demanded by Henry, the pretended bishop of St. David's, whether he would renounce and recant his heresies, schisms, and errors, (as he called them) which hi|therto he had maintained, and if he would subscribe to the catholic articles, otherwise than he had done before.

AFTER this, Dr. Farrar did exhibit a certain schedule, written in English, and remaining in the acts; appealing withal by express word of mouth from the bishop, as from an incompetent judge, to cardinal Poole.

NOTWITHSTANDING all which, the said bishop proceeding in his rage, pronounced the definitive sentence against him contained in writing, and there left in the acts; by which sentence he pronounced him an heretic excommunicate, and to be given up to the secular power, namely, to Mr. Leyson, sheriff of the town of Caermarthen.

THIS good bishop being condemned and degra|ded, was committed to the secular power, and not long after was brought to the place of execution in the town of Caermarthen, where he in the market place, in the south-side of the market-cross, the 30th day of March, being Saturday next before Passion-Sunday, most constantly sustained the torments of the fire.

CONCERNING whose constancy▪ this is moreover

to be added, that one Richard Jones, a knight's son, coming to Dr. Farrar a little before his death, seemed to lament the painfulness of the death he had to suffer; unto whom the bishop answered again to this effect, saying, That if he saw him once stir in the pains of his burning, he should then give no credit to his doctrine. And as he said, so he right well performed the same; for so patiently he stood, that he never moved, till one Richard Gravel, with a staff, struck him down.

CHAP. VI. The HISTORY and MARTYRDOM of RAWLINS WHITE, aged 60, a Fisherman in WALES, who was burned at CARDIFF, in the same Month as was Bishop FARRAR: reported by J. DANE, who was almost continually with him during his Troubles and Sufferings unto his DEATH. Also, a LETTER from Bishop GARDINER to Bishop BONNER, concerning celebrating the POPE'S FUNERAL; with other Public Occurrences in the Months of March and April, 1555.

RAWLINS WHITE was by his calling and occupation a fisherman, living and continu|ing in the said trade for the space of twenty years at least, in the town of Cardiff, being one of a very good name amongst his neighbours. As touching his religion at first, it cannot otherwise be known, but that he was a great partaker of the supe••stition and idolatry that then was used in the reign of Henry VIII. But after that God of his mercy had raised up the light of his gospel, through the blessed government of king Edward VI. Rawlins White began partly to mislike that which before he had embraced, and to have some good opinion of that which before by the iniquity of the times had been concealed from him; and the rather to bring this good purpose and intent of his to pass, he began to be a diligent hearer, and a great searcher out of the truth.

BECAUSE the good man was altogether unlearned, and withal very simple, he knew no ready way how he might satisfy his great desire. At length it came into his mind to take a special remedy to supply his necessity, which was this: He had a little boy, his own son, which child he sent to school, to learn to read English; now after the little boy could read indifferently well, his father every night after supper, summer and winter, would have the boy to read part of the holy scripture▪ and now and then of some other good book. In which kind of virtuous exercise the old man had such delight and pleasure, that, as it seemed, he rather practised himself in the study of the scripture, than in the trade or science which before time he had used: so that within a few years in the time of king Edward, through the help of his little son, and through much conference besides, he profited and went forward in such sort, that he was able not only to resolve himself touching his own former blindness and ignorance, but was also able to ad|monish and instruct others: and therefore when occasion served, he would go from one place to another, visiting such as he had best hope in. By which his doing, he became in that country both a notable and open professor of the truth, being at all times and in all such places, not without the company of his little boy, whom (as I have said) he used as an assistant to this good purpose. And to this his great industry and endeavour in the holy scripture, God did also add in him a singular gift of memory, so that by the benefit thereof he would and could do that in vouching and rehearsing of the text, which men of riper and more profound knowledge, by their notes and other helps of memory, could hardly accomplish. Insomuch that he would, upon the alledging of scripture, very

often cite the book, the leaf, yea, and the very sentence; such was the wonderful working of God in this simple and unlearned man.

NOW when he had thus continued in his profession the space of five years, king Edward died, upon whose decease queen Mary succeeded, and with her all kind of superstition crept in. Which thing being once perceived, Rawlins White did not altogether use open instruction and admonition, (as before he was wont) and therefore oftentimes in some private place or other he would call his trusty friends together, and with earnest prayer and great lamenta|tions, pass away the time, so that by his virtuous instruction••, being without any blemish of error, he converted a great number, which number (no doubt) had greatly increased, had not the cruel storm of persecution been. The extremity and force whereof at last so pursued this good man, that he looked every hour to go to prison; whereupon many who had received comfort by his instructions, did resort unto him, and by all means possible began to persuade him to shift for himself, and to dispose of his goods by some reasonable order to the use of his wife and children, and by that means he should escape that danger, which was imminent over his head.

BUT Rawlins, nothing abashed for his own part, nor moved with these their persuasions, thanked them most heartily for their good will, and told them plainly that he had learned one good lesson touching the confession and denial of Christ; advertising them, that if he upon their persuasions should presume to deny Christ, Christ in the last day would deny and utterly condemn him: and therefore (said he) I will, by his grace, confess and bear witness of him before men, that I may find in him everlasting life.

NOTWITHSTANDING which answer, his friends were very importunate with him. Howbeit he continued still in his good purpose so long, till at last he was taken by the officers of the town, as a man suspected of heresy, upon which apprehension he was convened before the bishop of Landaff that then was, the said bishop being then at his house near Chepstow: by whom, after divers combats and conflicts with him and his chaplains, this good father Rawlins White was committed to prison in Chepstow. But this his keeping, whether it were by the bishop's means, because he would rid his hands of him, or through the favour of his keeper▪ was not so severe and extreme, but that (if he had pleased) he might have escaped oftentimes.

AT last he was removed from Chepstow to the castle of Cardiff, where he continued for the space of one whole yea••▪ during which time, this re|porter resorted to him very often, with money and other relief from this reporter's mother, (who was a great favourer of those that were in affliction in those days) and other of his friends: which he received not without great thanks and praises given to the name of God. And notwithstanding he was thus troubled and imprisoned to his own undoing in this world, and the utter decay of his poor wife and children; yet was his heart so set on the fur|therance and instruction of others in the way of salvation, that he was never in quiet, but when he was persuading or exhorting such of his familiar friends as commonly came unto him. Insomuch that on Sundays and other times of leisure, when his friends came to visit him, he would pass away the time in prayer and exhortations, admonishing them always to beware of false prophets who come in sheep's cloathing.

WHEN he had continued in Cardiff castle for the space of one whole year, the time of his further trial was at hand. Whereupon the bishop of Lan|daff caused him to be brought again from the castle of Cardiff unto his own house near Chepstow; and while he continued there, the bishop endeavoured by various means to reduce him to some conformity. But when he found his threatening words and flattering promises ineffectual, the bishop desired him to advise and determine with himself, either to recant his opinions, or else to suffer the rigour of the law, and thereupon gave him a day of determi|nation: which day being come, the bishop with his chaplains went into his chapel, with a great number of the neighbours that had the curiosity to see their proceedings. When the bishop and his retinue were placed in order, poor Rawlins White was brought before them. The bishop (after much deliberation in addressing himself, as it seem|ed, and silence forewarned the rest that were present)

made a lo••g discourse to him, declaring the cause of his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sent for, which was, that he was a man well known to hold heretical opinions, and that by his instructions many were led into error. In the end, he exhorted him to consider his own state wherein he stood: for, (said the bishop) Raw|lins, you have oftentimes since your first trouble, both here in my house, and elsewhere, been warned touching your opinions, and you seem altogether obstinate and wilful. Now hereupon we thought good to send for you, to see if there were any conformity in you: so that the matter is come to this point, That if you will shew yourself repentant for that which you have done against God and the law, we are ready to use favour towards you; but if by no means we can persuade you touching your reformation, we are minded at this time to minister law unto you, and therefore advise with yourself what you will do.

WHEN the bishop had made an end, this good father Rawlins spake boldly to him, and said, My lord, I thank God I am a christian man, and I hold no opinions contrary to the word of God; and if I do, I desire to be reformed out of the word of God, as a christian man ought to be. Many more words were between the bishop and Rawlins, which this reporter doth not well remember. But in the end, when Rawlins would in no wise recant his opinions, the bishop told him plainly, that he must proceed against him by the law, and condemn him as an heretic.

PROCEED in your law in God's name, said Raw|lins; but for an heretic you shall never condemn me while the world stands. But (said the bishop to his company) before we proceed any further with him, let us pray to God that he would send some spark of grace upon him, and it may so chance, that God through our prayers will here turn his heart. When Rawlins heard the bishop say so. Ah, my lord, said he, now you deal well and like a godly bishop, and I thank you most heartily for your great charity and gentleness. Christ saith, Where two or three be gathered together in my name, I will be in the midst of them: and there be more than two or three of you. Now if it be so that your request be godly and lawful, and that ye pray as ye should pray, without doubt God will hear you. And therefore, my lord, do you pray to your God, and I will pray to my God; I know that my God will both hear my prayer, and perform my desire.

THE bishop with his company then prayed; and Rawlins turning himself to a pew that stood some|what near him, fell down upon his knees, covering his face with his hands: when they had prayed a-while, the bishop with his company arose from prayer. And then also arose Rawlins, and came before the bishop▪

THEN said the bishop, Now Rawlins, how is it with thee? Wilt thou revoke thy opinions, or no? Surely, my lord, Rawlins you left me, and Raw|lins you find me, and by God's grace, Rawlins I will continue. Certainly if your petitions had been just and lawful, God would have heard them: but you honour a false God, and pray not as you should pray, and therefore God has not granted your desire. But I am a poor simple man, as you see, and God has heard my complaint, and I trust he will strengthen me in his own cause.

THE bishop, when he perceived that this hypo|crisy of their's took no effect, then with sharp words he reproved him, and forthwith was ready to read the sentence; but upon some advice given to him by his chaplains that were there present, he thought best first to have a mass, thinking, that in|deed, by so doing some wonderful change would have been wrought in Rawlins, and thereupon a priest began mass.

IN the mean time poor Rawlins betook himself to prayer in a secret place, until the priest came to the sacring, as they term it, which is a principal part of their idolatry. When Rawlins heard the sacring|bell ring, he rose out of his place, and came to the choir door, and there standing a while, turned him|self to the people, speaking these words; Good people, if there be any brethren amongst you, or at the least, if there be but one brother amongst you, the same one bear witness at the day of judgment, that I bow not to this idol (meaning the host that the priest held over his head).

MASS being ended, Rawlins was called for again;

to whom the bishop used many persuasions; but the blessed man continued so stedfast in his former pro|fession, that the bishop's discourse was altogether in vain, and to no purpose. Whereupon the bishop caused the definitive sentence to be read. Which being ended, Rawlins was dismissed, and from thence he was by the bishop's commandment carried again to Cardiff, there to be put into the prison of the town, called Cockmarel, a very dark, loathsome, and most vile dungeon.

RAWLINS passed away the time in prayer, and chiefly in singing of psalms: which kind of godly exercise he always used both at Cardiff castle, and in all other places.

HAVING continued a prisoner in Cockmarel pri|son at Cardiff, some time, about three weeks before the day wherein he suffered, the head officers of the town, that had the charge of his execution, were determined to burn him because they would be sooner rid of him; although they had no writ of execution awarded, as by the law they should have. Where|upon one H. Lewes, the recorder of the town, that then was, seeing they went about to burn him with|out any warrant by writ, came to them and told them, That if they did burn him before they had the writ, for burning of heretics, the wife of the said Rawlins would upon just cause, by law, call their doings into question.

IMMEDIATELY upon this advertisement, they sent to London for the writ above-named: upon the re|ceipt whereof they made speed to the execution. The day being at hand, wherein the good father should perform and accomplish the last act of this his worthy conflict, he was the night before engaged in preparing himself.

NOW when Mr. Rawlins perceived his time was no less near than it was reported, he sent forthwith to his wife, and desired her by the messenger, that in any wife she should make ready and send unto him his wedding garment, meaning a shirt, which afterwards he was burned in. This request, or rather commandment of his, his wife with grief of heart did perform, and early in the morning did send it him, which he received most gladly and joy|fully.

THE hour of his execution being come, this good and constant martyr was brought out of prison, ha|ving on his body the long shirt, which he called his wedding garment, and an old russet-coat which he was wont to wear. Besides this, he had upon his legs an old pair of leather buskins. And thus be|ing brought out of prison, he was accompanied, or rather guarded, with a great number of bills and weapons. Which sight when he beheld, Alas! (said he) what meaneth all this? By God's grace I will not run away: with all my heart and mind I give God most hearty thanks, that he hath made me worthy to abide all this for his holy name's sake.

SO he came to a place, in his way, where his poor wife and children stood weeping, and making great lamentation: the sudden sight of whom so pierced his heart, that the very tears trickled down his face. But he soon after, as though he had misliked this infirmity of his flesh, began to be as it were altoge|ther angry with himself: insomuch, that striking his breast with his hand, he used these words. Al•• flesh, hinderest thou me so? Wouldst thou fain prevail? Well, I tell thee, do what thou canst, thou shalt not, by God's grace, have the victory.

BY this time the poor innocent came to the altar of his sacrifice, and there found a stake ready set up, with some wood towards the making of the fire. Which when he beheld, he set forward very boldly▪ but in going towards the stake, he fell down upon his knees and kissed the ground; and in rising a|gain, a little earth sticking on his nose, he said these words, Earth unto earth, and dust unto dust; thou art my mother, and unto thee I shall return. Then went he very chearfully and very Joyfully, and set his back close unto the stake; and when he had stood there a-while, he cast his eye upon this re|porter, and called him unto him, and said, I feel a great fighting between the flesh and the spirit and the flesh would very fain have his swing; and ••••ere|fore I pray you, when you see me any thing tempt|ed, hold your finger up to me, and I trust I shall remember myself.

AS he was thus standing with his back close unto the stake, a smith came with a great chain of i••on; whom when he saw, he cast up his hand, and with a loud voice, gave God great thanks. Then as the

smith was making it fast to the other side, Rawlins said unto him, I pray you good friend knock in the chain fast; for it may be that the flesh would strive mightily; but God of his great mercy give me strength and patience to abide the extremity.

NOW when the smith had made him fast to the stake, the officers began to lay on more wood, with a little straw and reeds: wherein the good old man was no less occupied then the best; for as far as he could reach his hands, he would pluck the straw and reeds, and lay it about him in places most conve|nient for his speedy dispatch. Which thing he did with such a chearful countenance and familiar gesture, that all men there present were astonished at it.

WHEN all things were ready, directly over-against the stake, in the face of Rawlins White, there was a standing erected, whereon stept up a priest, addres|sing himself to the people, which were many in number, because it was market-day. When Raw|lins perceived him, and considered the cause of his coming, he reached a little straw unto himself, made two little stays, and set them under his elbows. Then went the priest forward in his sermon, wherein he spake of many things touching the authority of the church of Rome. In the mean time Rawlins gave such good ear and attention, that he seemed nothing at all moved or disquieted. At last, the priest came to the sacrament of the altar, and there he began to inveigh against Rawlins's opinions: in which harangue he cited the common place of scrip|ture, and thereupon made a learned interpretation.

NOW when Rawlins perceived, that he went a|bout not only to preach and teach the people false doctrine, but also to confirm it by scripture, he sud|denly started up, and beckoned his hands to the people▪ saying twice, Come hither good people, and hear not a false prophet preaching: and then said unto the preacher, Ah! thou wicked hypocrite, dost thou presume to prove thy false doctrine by scrip|ture? Look in the text what followeth; Did not Christ say, "Do this in remembrance of me?" After which words, the priest being rather amazed than interrupted, forthwith held his peace.

THEN some that stood by cried out, Put fire; set to fire; which being done, the straw and reeds cast up a great and sudden flame. In which flame this good man bathed his hands so long, until such time as the sinews shrunk, and fat dropped away, saving that once he did, as it were, wipe his face with one of them. All this while, which was somewhat long, he cried with a loud voice, O Lord, receive my spirit, until he could not open his mouth. At last, the extremity of the fire was so vehement against his legs, that they were consumed almost before the rest of his body was hurt, which made the whole body fall over the chain into the fire sooner than it would have done. Thus died this good old man for the testimony of God's truth, being now rewarded, no doubt, with the crown of eternal life.

IT is further recorded of the said good father Rawlins, by this reporter, that as he was going to his death and suffering at the stake, he seemed in a manner to be altered in nature. For as before he was wont to go stooping, or rather crooked, through the infirmity of age, having a sad countenance and a very feeble complexion, and withal very soft in speech and gesture, now he went and stretched him|self not only upright, but also bore withal a most pleasant and comfortable countenance, and had great courage and boldness both in speech and behaviour.

IT is also said by this reporter, that a little before the fire flashed up to his body, many of his friends came up to him, and took him by the hand, amongst whom the reporter of this story held him so long by the hand, till the flame arose and forced them to part. In the mean time, the priest, of whom I spake before, cried out and said, That it was not lawful for any man to take him by the hand, because he was an heretic, and condemned by the church. The chief cause of his trouble was his opinion concerning the sacrament of the altar. He was, at the time of his death, about 60 years of age.

Transactions in the PRIVY COUNCIL, and PUBLIC OCCURRENCES, in the Months of March and April, 1555.

MARCH 28th, the queen summoned into her presence four of her privy council, namely, William, lord marquis of Winchester, high-treasurer

of England; sir Robert Rochester, knight, the queen's comptroller; sir William Peter, knight, secretary; and sir Francis Inglefield, knight, master of the wards: to whom she thus spoke:

"YOU are here of our council, and we have or|dered you to be called unto us, to the intent you might hear of me my conscience, and the resolution of my mind▪ concerning the lands and possessions, as well of monasteries as of other churches whatso|ever, being now presently in my possession.

"FIRST, I do consider, that the said lands were taken away from the churches aforesaid in the time of schism, and that by unlawful means, such as are contrary both to the law of God and of the church: for which cause my conscience doth not suffer me to detain them; and therefore I here expressly refuse either to claim or to retain the same lands for mine, but with all my heart freely and willingly, without any covenant or condition, here and before God I do surrender and relinquish the said lands and posses|sions, or inheritances whatsoever, and do renounce the same with this mind and purpose, that order and disposition thereof may be taken, as shall seem best to our most holy lord the pope, or else his legate the lord cardinal, to the honour of God, and the wealth of this our realm.

"YOU may object to me, that considering the state of my kingdom, and the dignity thereof, my crown imperial cannot be honourably maintained and furnished without the possessions aforesaid; yet notwithstanding I set more by the salvation of my soul, than by ten kingdoms; and therefore the said possessions I utterly refuse here to hold after that sort and title, and give most hearty thanks to Almight God, who hath given me an husband like|wise minded, with no less good affection in this be|half, than myself.

"WHEREFORE I charge and command, that my chancellor (with whom I have conferred my mind in this matter before) and you four, do resort toge|ther to-morrow to the most reverend lord legate, and signify to him the premises in my name, and give your attendance upon him for the more full declaration of the state of my kingdom, and of the aforesaid possessions accordingly, as you yourselves do understand the matter, and can inform him in the same."

WE must here observe, that in the preceding month, February 19th, the bishop of Ely, with lord Montague, and 140 horse, were sent as ambassadors from the king and queen to Rome. For what cause, is not expressed; but by conjecture, it may be well supposed to be for the same cause of abbey-lands, as by the sequel thereof may probably appear. For it was not long after, the pope did set forth in print a bull of excommunication for all manner of such persons, without exception, as kept any of the church or abbey-lands; by virtue of which bull, the pope excommunicated as well such as had any of the abbey lands, as also all such princes, bishops, and noblemen, justices of peace, and others in office, who had not, or did not forthwith put the same bull in execution. This execution (God be thanked) was never put in practice. For neither the bishop of Winchester, nor any of the pope's clergy, would greatly stir in that matter, perceiving the nobility to be too strong for them; and therefore were con|tented to stay for a more convenient opportunity; and that those who held lands should not, at the first coming out of the bull, be ••••asperated too much against them, they subtilly abused the pulpits, and dissembled with the people, affirming that the said pope's late bull, set forth in print for restitution of abbey-lands, was not meant for England, but for other foreign countries: when in truth the meaning of that bull was only for England, and no country else, as both by the intimation of queen Mary, and by many other conjectures, evidently appear. Whereby it is easy to understand what the purpose: of those men was to do, if time, which they observ|ed, might have served their devotion. But to let this matter pass of the pope's bull, the time now serveth to treat of pope Julius's death, forasmuch as he made his exit about the latter end of March.

UNDER this Julius, flourished the archbishop of Beneventanus, a Florentine, named Johannes a Casu, dean of the pope's chamber, and chief legate to the Venetians; who well declaring the fruit of that filthy see, so far forgot both honesty and nature, that he was not ashamed to play the filthy sodomite himself, and to boast openly of the same; but also took upon him most impudently in Italian metre, to all men's ears, to set forth the praise and commendation of

that beastly iniquity, saying, That he himself never used other; and this book was printed at Venice by one Trojanus Navus; and yet the pope could suffer this so great iniquity and shameful beastliness, even under his nose in his own chamber, who could not abide the true doctrine of Christ in christian books.

AMONGST other pranks and deeds of this 〈◊〉〈◊〉, in his jubilee, and in the synod of Trent, and in confirming of the idol of Lauretane, this is also re|ported of him in his life, that he delighted greatly in pork-flesh and peacocks. Upon a time when he was admonished by his physician to abstain from all swines-flesh, for that it was hurtful to the gout, and yet would not follow his counsel; the physician afterwards gave warning to his steward, that he should set no more pork-flesh before him. Where|upon when the pope perceived the said pork-flesh to be lacking in his accustomed service: Where, said he, is my pork? And when his steward had an|swered that his physician had forbidden any pork to be served▪ the pope burst out into a great rage, and said these words, Bring me, said he, my pork-flesh, in the despight of God.

AT another time, at dinner, pointing to a peacock upon his table, which he had not touched; Keep, said he, this cold peacock for me against supper, and let me sup in the garden: for I shall have guests. So when supper came, and amongst other hot pea|cocks, he saw not his cold peacock brought to his table: the pope, after his wouted manner, most horribly blaspheming God, fell into an extreme rage. Whereupon one of his cardinals, sitting by, desired him, saying, Let not your holiness, I pray you, be moved with a matter of so small weight. Then pope Julius answering again, What, said he, if God was so angry for an apple, that he cast our first parents out of paradise for the same, why may not I, being his vicar, be angry then for a peacock, since a peacock is a greater matter than an apple? Behold here, good reader, by this pope, the holiness of that blasphemous see, and yet what affection was borne to the same in England, by the dirges, (a ser|vice for the dead used by the papists) ••earses, and funerals, commanded to be had and celebrated in all churches by the queen and her council, as will ap|pear by the following letters and orders.

A LETTER From the Bishop of WINCHESTER (being Lord Chan|cellor) unto BONNER, Bishop of London, concerning the celebrating of the Pope's Funeral.

AFTER my hearty commendations to your lord|ship, the king and queen's majesty having cer|tain knowledge of the death of the pope's holiness, thought good there should be as well solemn obse|quies said for him throughout the realm, as also these prayers (which I send you here inclosed) used at mass-time in all places at this time of vacation; and therefore ordered me to signify their pleasures unto you in this behalf, that thereupon you might pro|ceed to the full accomplishment thereof, by putting the same in due execution within your own dioc••se, and sending word to the rest of the bishops, to do the like in their's.

THUS doubting not but that your lordship will use such diligence in this matter at this time, as shall be necessary, I bid your lordship heartily well to fare. From my house at Asher, the 10th of April, 1555.

Your assured friend and brother, STEPHANUS WINTON, Chancel.

Prayer commanded to be used in the Funeral Masses for the Po••••, the Apostolic See being Vacant.

WE beseech thee, O Lord, of thy great pity to grant to the holy Roman church a bishop, whose care towards us may be always acceptable to thee, and that he may be revered by the people for his good government, to the glory of thy name, through our Lord.

A Secret Prayer.

MAY thy abundant pity, O Lord, towards us, grant that we may rejoice to have obtained a bishop of our holy mother church acceptable to thy majesty, through our Lord.

After the Communion.

MAY thy wonderful grace, O Lord, rejoice us (being refreshed with the sacrament of thy precious body and blood) in the choice of a bishop

who may instruct thy people in virtue, through our Lord.

IN obedience to this command, on Wednesday, in Easter week, there were hearses set up, and dirges sung for the said Julius in several places. At which time a woman going into St. Magnus' church, at the bridge-foot in London, and there seeing an hearse and other preparation, asked what it meant: some that stood by, said that it was for the pope, and that she must pray for him. Nay, said she, that I will not, for he needeth not my prayers: and seeing he could forgive us all our sins, I am sure he is clean himself: therefore I need not to pray for him.

SOME who stood by, heard her speak these words, and upon their information she was put into the cage at London bridge.

The Sudden Death of Mr. NIGHTINGALE, a Priest, of Crondal, in Kent, who was made Chief Penitentiary of that Deanery by Cardinal Poole.

ALMIGHTY GOD by many and sundry ways hath admonished men of all nations in these latter years to embrace, and not violently to resist the light of his gospel; as first, by preaching of his word: secondly, by the blood of the martyrs: and thirdly, by terrible examples from time to time shewed upon his adversaries. In the number of whom cometh here to be remembered, the notable working of God's hand upon a certain priest in Kent, named Nightingale, parson of Crondal, near Canterbury, who upon Shrove-Sunday, which was about the 3d day of the said month of March, re|joicing greatly at the alteration of religion, began to make a sermon to his parishioners, taking his theme out of the words of St. John: "He that saith he hath no sin, is a liar, and the truth is not in him," &c. and upon the same very impertinently declared to them all such articles as were set forth by the pope's authority, and by the commandment of the bishops of this realm; saying moreover unto the people in this wise, Now, masters and neighbours, rejoice and be merry, for the prodigal sort is come▪ I know that most part of you be as I am, for I know your hearts well enough. And I shall tell you what hath happened in this week past: I was before my lord cardinal Poole, and he made me as free from sin as I was at the font-stone: and on Thursday last being before him, he hath appointed me to notify (I thank him for it) the same unto you. And I will tell you what it is. Then reading the pope's bull of pardon that was sent into England, he said, he thanked God that he had lived to see that day; adding moreover, that he believed by the virtue of that bull he was as clean from sin as the night he was born: and immediately upon the same fell suddenly down out of the pulpit, and never stirred hand nor foot. Testified by Robert Austen of Chatham, who both heard and saw the same, and is witnessed also by the country round about.

ON the 2d of April, John Awcock died in prison, and was buried in the fields, as the manner of the papists was, to deny christian burial to such as di•••• out of their popish antichristian church.

HAVING now entered into the month of April, we will set down in order out of the public records what happened in the said month. The 1st of April, 1555, a letter was sent to the sheriff of Kent, to ap|prehend Thomas Woodgate and William Maynard, for preaching secretly, and to send them up to the council.

THE 7th day of the said month, another letter was sent to the sheriff for the apprehension of one Ha••|wich, who went about with him, preaching from place to place.

THE 15th of April, a letter was directed to sir Nicholas Hare, and sir Thomas Cornwallis, requir|ing them to examine Mr. Flower, alias Branch, what he meant by wearing about his neck this motto, Deum time, idolum fuge. "Fear God, beware of ido|latry;" and whom else he knew to wear the like; praying them also to speak to Bonner, bishop of London, speedily to proceed against him for his re|ligion according to the laws, and that the justices of peace of Middlesex should likewise proceed against him for shedding of blood in the church, according to the statute, so as if he continued in his opinion, he might be executed at the farthest by the latter end of this week, and that his right hand be struck off the day before his execution, or the same day.

THE 22d of April, there was a like letter sent to the justices of peace of Middlesex, with a writ for the execution of the said Flower, commanding them to see his hand struck off before his burning.

THE 29th of April, Mr. Robert Horneby, servant then to lady Elizabeth, was convened before the council for his religion: and standing constantly to the truth, notwithstanding their threats and other persuasions, was therefore committed to the Mar|shalsea.

CHAP. VII. The History of the Life, Examination, and Martyrdom, of the Rev. Mr. GEORGE MARSH, who was burned for professing the Truth of the GOSPEL, at West-Chester, April 24th, 1555.

GEORGE MARSH was born in the parish of Deane, in the county of Lancaster, and was well brought up in learning and honest trade of living by his parents; who afterwards, about the 25th year of his age, took to wise and honest mai|den of the country: with whom he continued, earn|ing their living upon a farm, having children be|tween them lawfully begotten: and then God tak+ing his wife out of this world, he (leaving his houshold and children in good order) went unto the university of Cambridge, where he studied▪ and much increased in learning, and was a minister of God's holy word and sacraments, and for a while was cura••e to the Rev. Mr. Saunders, as himself reporteth. In which condition of life he continued for a space, earnestly setting forth God's true reli|gion, to the d••facing of Antichrist's false doctrine, by his godly readings and sermons▪ as well there and in the parish of Deane, as elsewhere in Lanca|shire.

AT length, he was apprehended, and kept close prisoner in Chester, by George Cotes, then bishop of that see, within the precinct of the bishop's house▪ a|bout the space of four months, being not permitted to have relief and comfort of his friends; but charge being given unto the porter, to mark who they were that asked for him, and to signify their names unto the bishop▪ as by the particular description of his story, testified and recorded with his own pen, more evidently will appear in what followeth.

The First Examination of the Rev. Mr. GEORGE MARSH, before the Earl of Darby and others, writ|ten by himself.

ON the Monday before Palm-Sunday, which was the 12th of March, it was told me at my mother's house, that Roger Wrinstone, with other of Mr. Barton's servants, did make diligent search for me in Bolton; and when they perceived that I was not there, they gave strict charge to Robert Ward and Robert Marsh, to find and bring me to Mr. Barton the next day following, with others, to be brought before the honourable earl of Derby, to be examined in matters of religion, &c.

I knowing this, by my friends, was diversely affected; my mother, and other my friends advi|sing me to fly, and to avoid the peril, which thing I had intended, after a week then next ensuing, if this in the mean while had not chanced; seeing that if I were taken, and would not recant in matters of religion, (as they thought I would not, and as God strengthening and assisting me in his Holy Spirit I never will) it would not only have put them to great sorrow, heaviness, and losses, with costs and charges, to their shame and rebuke in this world, but also my own self, after troubles and painful imprisonment, unto shameful death.

THIS considered, they advised and counselled me to depart and fly the country, as I intended to have

done, if this had not happened. To whose counsel my weak flesh would gladly have consented, but my spirit did not fully agree; thinking and saying thus ••o myself, that if I fled away, it would be thought, reported, and said, that I did not only fly the coun|try, and my nearest and dearest friends, but much rather from Christ's holy word, according as these years past I had with my heart, or at least with mine outward living professed, and with my word and mouth taught, according to the small talent given me of the Lord. I being thus with their counsel and advice, and the thoughts and counsels of my own mind, drawn as it were divers ways, went from my mother's house, saying, I would come again at evening.

IN the mean time I ceased not by earnest prayer to ask and seek counsel of God, (who is the giver of all good gifts) and of other my friends, whose pious judgments and knowledge I much trusted to. After this I met with one of my friends on Deane-moor, about sun setting, and after we had consulted toge|ther of my business, not without hearty prayer, we departed. I not fully determining what to do, but taking my leave of my friend, said, I doubt not but God (according as our prayer and trust was) would give me such wisdom and counsel, as should be most to his honour and glory, the profit of my neigh|bours and brethren in the world, and obtaining my eternal salvation by Christ in heaven.

THIS done, I returned to my mother's house again, where several of Mr. Barton's servants had been seeking after me; who, when they could not find me, strictly charged my brother and William Marsh to seek me that night, and to bring me to Smethehills the next day; who being so charged, were gone to seek me in Adderton, or elsewhere.

THUS intending before to have been all night with my mother, but then considering that my tarrying there would disquiet her with her houshold, I de|parted from thence, and went beyond Deane church, and there tarried all night with an old friend of mine, taking little rest, and consulting much with myself of my trouble.

AT my first awaking▪ one c••me to me from a faithful friend of mine with letters, who said thus: My friend's advice was that I should in no wise fly, but abide and boldly confess the faith of Jesus Christ. At whose words I was so confirmed and established in my conscience, that from thenceforth I consulted no more, whether it were better to fly or to tarry, but was at a point with myself, that I would not fly, but go to Mr. Barton who did seek for me, and there present myself, and patiently bear such cross as it should please God to lay upon my shoulders. Whereupon my mind before being much disquiet|ed and troubled, was now merry and at ease.

I arose early in the morning, and after I had said the English litany (as my custom was) with other prayers, kneeling on my knees by my friend's bed side, I prepared myself to go toward Smethehills; and as I was going thither, I went into the houses of Henry Widdowes, of my mother-in-law, of Ralph Yeton, and of the wife of Thomas Richardson, desiring them to pray for me, and have me com|mended to all my friends, and comfort my mother, and be good to my little children; for (as I sup|posed) they should not see my face any more before the last day; and so took my leave of them, not without tears shed on both sides, and came to Sme|thehills about nine o'clock, and presented myself to Mr. Barton; who shewed me a letter from the earl of Derby, wherein he was commanded to send me with others 〈…〉〈…〉.

WHEREUPON no charged my brother and William Marsh to bring and deliver me the next day by ten o'clock, before the said earl or 〈…〉〈…〉. I made earnest suit, with o••••er special frien•••• which I had there at the same tim•• to Mr. Barton, that he would take some one, or all of them, bound by recogniz|ance or otherwise, for my appearing before the said earl or his council, that my brother and William Marsh might be at home, because it was the chief time of seeding, and their plough•• could not go if they were not at home▪ but nothing could be obtained.

SO we went to my 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ and there I dined and shifted part of my 〈…〉〈…〉 praying▪ took my leave of my 〈…〉〈…〉, and both the•••• 〈…〉〈…〉,

and departing from them, went towards Lathum, and lay all night within a mile and a half of it. The next day, which was Wednesday, we arose, prayed, and came to Lathum betimes, and tarried there till four o'clock in the afternoon.

THEN was I called by Roger Mekinson, to my lord and his council, and was brought in to the chamber of presence, where were present sir William Nores, sir ••ierce Alee, Mr. Sherburn, the parson of Grapnal, Mr. Moore, with others. Where when I had tarried a little while, my lord turned himself towards me, and asked what was my name: I answered, Marsh.

THEN he asked, wh••••her I was one of those that sowed evil seed and dissention amongst the people: which thing I denied, desiring to know my accusers, and what could be laid against me: but that I could not know.

THEN, said he, he would with his council exa|mine me themselves, and asked me whether I was a priest; I said, No. He asked me what had been my living. I answered, I was a minister, served a cure, and kept a school. Then said my lord to his council, This is a wonderful thing: before he said he was no priest, and now he confesseth himself to be one. I answered, By the laws now used in this realm, (as far as I do know) I am none.

THEY asked me who gave me orders, or whether I had taken any. I answered, I received orders of the bishop of London and Lincoln.

THEN said they one to another, those are of these new 〈◊〉〈◊〉; and asked me what acquaintance I had with them? I answered, I never saw them but at the time when I received orders.

THEY asked me how long I had been curate, and whether I had ministered with a good conscience. I answered, I had been curate but one year, and had ministered with a good conscience, I thanked God; and if the laws of the realm would have suffered me, I would have ministered still; and if they at any time hereafter would suffer me to minister after that sort, I would minister again.

AT which they murmured, and the parson of Grapnal said, this last communion was the most de|vilish thing that ever was devised. Then they ask|ed me what my belief was.

I answered, I believed in God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, according as the scriptures of the Old and New Testaments do teach, and accord|ing as the four symbols or creeds, that is to wit, the creed commonly called the Apostles, the creed of the council of Nice, of Athanasius, and of Austin, and Ambrose, do teach.

AFTER a few words, the parson of Grapnal said, But what is thy belief in the sacrament of the altar?

I answered, I believed that whoever, according to Christ's institution, did receive the holy sacra|ment of Christ's body and blood, did eat and drink Christ's body, and with all the benefits of his death and resurrection to their eternal salvation; for Christ, said I, is ever present with his sacrament.

THEY asked me, whether the bread and wine, by virtue of the words pronounced by the priest, were changed into the flesh and blood of Christ, and that the sacrament, whether it were received or reserved, was the very body of Christ.

WHEREUNTO I made answer, I knew no further than I had shewed already. For I said my know|ledge was imperfect; desiring them not to ask me such hard and unprofitable questions, whereby to bring my body into danger of ••••ath, and to suck my blood. Whereat they were not a little offended, saying, they were no blood-suckers, and intended nothing to me but to make me a good christian.

AFTER many other questions, which I avoided as well as I could, remembering the saying of St. Paul, "Foolish and unlearned questions avoid, knowing they do but ingender strife;" my lord commanded me to come to the board, and gave me pen and ink in my hand, and commanded me to write my an|swers to the questions of the sacrament above-named; and I wrote as I had answered before. Whereat he being much offended, commanded me to write a more direct answer, saying, I should not chuse but do it.

THEN I took the pen and wrote, that further I knew not. Whereat he being sore grieved, after many threatenings, said, I should be put to a shame|ful death like a traitor, with other like words; and sometimes giving me fair words, if I would turn and be conformable as others were, how glad he would be.

IN conclusion, after much ado, he commanded me to ward, in a cold, windy stone-house, where was little room: there I lay two nights without any bed, saving a few great canvas tent clothes, and so continued till Palm-Sunday, occupying myself as well as I could in meditation, prayer, and study; for no man could be suffered to come to me but my keeper twice a day, when he brought me meat and drink.

Second Examination of the Rev. Mr. GEORGE MARSH.

ON Palm-Sunday after dinner, I was sent for to my lord and his council, (saving for William Nores and sir Pierce Alec were not then present) amongst whom were sir John Beram, and the vicar of Prescot. So they examined me once again of the sacrament. And after I had communed apart with the vicar of Prescot a good while concerning that matter, he returned with me to my lord and his council, saying, That the answer which I had made before, and then did make, (as it is above written) was sufficient for a beginner, and as one which did not profess a perfect knowledge in the matter, until such time as I had learned further. Wherewith the earl was very well pleased, saying, he doubted not but by the means and help of the vicar of Pres|cot I would be conformable in other things: and after many fair words he commanded I should have a bed, with fire, and liberty to go amongst his ser|vants, on condition I would do no harm with my communication amongst them.

AND so after much other communication I de|parted, much more troubled in my mind than be|fore, because I had not with more boldness confes|sed Christ, but in such sort as mine adversaries thereby thought they should prevail against me; whereat I was much grieved: for hitherto I went about as much as in me lay, to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 myself out of their hands, if by any means without open denying of Christ and his word that could be done.

THIS considered, I cried more earnest to God by prayer, desiring him to strengthen me with his Holy Spirit, with boldness to confess him; and to deliver me from their enticing word••, and that I might not be spoiled through their philosophy and deceitful vanity, after the traditions of men and ordinances of the world, and not after Christ.

A day or two after I was sent for to the vicar of Prescot, and the parson of Grapnal; where our communication was concerning the mass: and he asked what offended me in the mass. I answered, the whole mass did offend me, first because it was in a strange language, whereby the people were not edified, contrary to St. Paul's doctrine, 1 Cor. xiv. and because of the manifold and intolerable abuses and errors contained therein, contrary to Christ's priesthood and sacrifice.

THEN they asked me in what place thereof; and I named several; which places they went about with gentle and far sought interpretations to miti|gate, saying, those places were understood far other|wise than the words did purport, or than I did take them.

I answered, I did understand them as they did purport, and as their own books do comment and gloss upon them.

THEY said, The sacrifice or oblation did not in the mass signify any thing else, than either a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, or else a memorial of a sa|crifice or oblation. So they caused a mass-book to be sent for, and shewed me where in some places of the mass was written, A sacrifice of praise. Where|to I answered, that it followed not therefore that in all places it signified a sacrifice or oblation of praise or thanksgiving; and although it did, yet was not a sacrifice of praise or thanksgiving to be off••••ed for the people.

AFTER this, Mr. George Marsh was sent to Lan+caster castle, and being brought with other prisoners unto the sessions, was made to hold up his hand with the malefactors; at which time the earl of Derby h••d this conversation with him.

A CONVERSATION between the Rev. Mr. GEORGE MARSH, and the Earl of DERBY.

I Said unto my lord, I had not dwelled in the country the three or four years past, and came home but lately to visit my mother, children, and others of my friends, and meant to have departed out of the country before Easter then next, and to have gone out of the realm. Wherefore I tru••ted, seeing nothing could be laid against me, wherein I had offended against the laws of this realm, his lordship would not with captious questions examine me, to bring my body into danger of death, to the great discomfort of my mother, but suffer me to avoid peaceably, seeing I might have fled out of the country, and yet of my own will came to his lordship.

HE said to his council, he had heard tell of me before at London; and intended to make search for me, and take me either in Lancashire or at London, and asked me in what land I would have gone.

I answered, I would have gone either into Almain, or else into Denmark. He said to his council, in Denmark they used such heresy as they have done in England; but as for Almain, he said the emperor had destroyed them.

SO after such like words, I said unto him, my trust was that his lordship being of the honourable council of the late king Edward, consenting and agreeing to acts con|cerning faith towards God and religion, under great pain, would not so soon after consent to put poor men to shameful deaths, as he had threatened me for embracing the same with so good a conscience.

HE answered, that he, with the lord Windsor and lord Dacres, with one wore whose name I have forgot, did not consent to those acts, and that the names of them ••our would be seen, as long as the parliament house stood. Then my lord did rehearse the misfortune of the dukes of Northumberland and Suffolk, with others, because they favoured not the true religion; and again the prosperity of the queen's highness, because she favoured the true religion, thereby gathering the one to be go••d, and of God; and the other to be wicked, and of the devil; and said that the duke of Northumberland confessed so plainly.

The Rev. GEORGE MARSH, to the Reader.

FORASMUCH as not only when I was at Lathum, but also since I d••parted thence, I hear that there be divers reports and opinions of the cause of my imprison|ment, as well at Lathum as at Lancaster, (as I am inform|ed by credible persons) some saying it was only because I would not do open penance; and some because I could not agree with my lord and his council concerning the sacra|ment of Christ's body and blood, and the manner of Christ's presence there; some because I would not grant it sufficient, and according to Christ's institution, for the lay-people to receive the said sacrament under one kind only: I thought it good, dearly beloved in Christ, and my bounden duty, to certify you by my own hand writing, of my examination and handling at Lathum, and to tell you the truth as near as I could, to quiet your mind in this be|half; and therefore I have written with my own hand the certainty of those things, as near as I could, here above expressed, not omitting any thing at all concerning religion, whereof they did examine me. Howbeit I perceive in some things I keep not the same order in writing that thing which was asked by them, and answered by me, before or after, as it was in very deed in all points, saving this, telling the truth as near as I can, desiring you to accept in good worth this my good will, and to pray for me and all them that be in bonds, that God would assist us with his Holy Spirit, that we may with boldness confess his holy name; and that Christ may be magnified in our bodies, that we may stand full and perfect in all the will of God; to whom be all honour and glory world without end, Amen.

AFTER remaining some weeks in confinement at Lancaster, he was removed to Chester, and placed in the bishop's liberty, where his lordship frequently conferred with him, and used his utmost endeavours to bring him to an acknowledgement of the corpo|ral presence in the sacrament of the altar, the mass, confession, and in short, of all the tenets and prac|tices of the church of Rome.

WHEN the bishop found he would not assent to a single point, he remanded him back to prison; and in a few days summoned him before him in the cathedral church of Chester, where, in the presence of the mayor, chancellor, and principal inhabitants of that city, both laity and clergy, he caused him to take a solemn oath to answer truly to such articles as might be alledged against him.

The FIRST APPEARANCE of the Rev. Mr. GEORGE MARSH, before Dr. COTES, Bishop of CHESTER.

WITHIN a few days the Rev. Mr. Marsh was sent for by Dr. Cotes, then bishop, to app•••••• before him in his hall, nobody else being presen•• and then he asked him certain questions concerning the sacrament: to whom he made such answers as the bishop seemed therewith to be con|tent, saving that he utterly denied transubstantiation, and allowed not the abuse of the mass, nor that the lay-people should receive under one kind only,

contrary to Christ's institution; in which point the bishop went about to persuade him; howbeit (God be thanked) all in vain. Other discourse he had with him to submit himself to the universal church of Rome; and when he saw he could not prevail, he sent him to prison again: and after being there, came to him divers times Mr. Massey, a fatherly old man, Mr. Wrench, a schoolmaster, Mr. Hen|shaw, the bishop's chaplain, and the archdeacon, with many more; who with all plausibility of words, philosophy, and deceitful vanity, after the tradition of men, but not after Christ, went about to persuade him to submit himself to the church of Rome, and to acknowledge the pope to be head thereof, and to interpret the scriptures no otherwise than that church did; with many such like argu|ments and persuasions of fleshly wisdom.

TO whom the said Mr. George Marsh answered, that he did acknowledge and believe one holy catho|lic and apostolic church, without which there is no salvation, and that this church is but one, because it ever hath, doth, and shall confess and believe one only God, and him only worship, and one only Mes|siah, and in him only trust for salvation: which church also is ruled and led by one spirit, one word, and one faith; and that this church is universal and catholic, because it ever hath been since the world's beginning, is, and shall endure to the world's end, and comprehending within it all nations, kindreds, languages, degrees, states, and conditions of men; and that this church is built only upon the foundation of the prophets and apostles, Jesus Christ himself being the head corner stone, and not upon the Romish laws and decrees, the bishop of Rome being the supreme head.

AND where they said the church did stand in ordinary succession of bishops, being ruled by general councils, holy fathers, and the laws of holy church, and so continued for the space of fifteen hundred years and more; he made answer, that the holy church, which is the body of Christ, and therefore most worthy to be called holy, was before any succession of bishops, general councils, or Romish decrees▪ nei••her was it bound to any time or place, ordinary succession▪ general councils, or traditions of fathers; nor had it any supremacy over empires and kingdoms; but it was a poor simple flock, dispersed and scattered abroad, a sheep without a shepherd in the midst of wolves or as a flock of orphans and fatherless children; and that this church was led and ruled by the only laws, councils, and word of Christ, he being the supreme head of this church, and assisting, succour|ing, and defending her from all assaults, errors and persecutions, wherewith she is ever encompass|ed about.

HE shewed and proved unto them also, by the flood of Noah, the destruction of Sodom, the Israelites departing out of Egypt, by the parable of the sower, of the king's son's marriage, of the great supper, and by other plain sentences of scripture, that this church was of no estimation, and little in comparison with the church of hypo|crites, and wicked worldlings.

The SECOND APPEARANCE of the Rev. Mr. GEORGE MARSH, before the Bishop of CHESTER.

AFTER that the said bishop had taken his pleasure in punishing this his prisoner, and often reviling him with the odious names of heretic, &c. he caused him to be brought forth into a chapel in the cathedral church of Chester, called our Lady's chapel, at two o'clock in the afternoon, and Fulk Dutton, mayor of the said city, Dr. Wall, and other priests assisting him, placed not far from the bishop; George Wensloe, chancellor, and one John Getham, register, sat directly over against him.

THEN they caused the said Mr. Marsh to take an oath, to answer truly unto such articles as should be objected against him. Upon which oath taken, the chancellor laid to his charge, that he had preach|ed and openly published most heretic••l and blasphe|mous doctrines, within the parishes of Deane, Eccles, Bolton, Berry, and many other places within the bishop's diocese, in the months of January, February, or some other time of the year last, proceeding directly against the pope's authority, and catholic church of Rome, the blessed mass, the sacrament of the altar, and many other articles. Unto all which he answered, that he neither heretically nor blasphemously p••••ached or spoke

against any of the said articles; but simply and truly, as occasion served, and (as it were thereunto forced in conscience) maintained the truth touching the same articles, as he said all you now present did acknowledge the same in the time of the late king Edward VI.

THEN they examined him severally of every article, and bade him answer yes or no, without equivocation; for they were come to examine, and not to dispute at present.

THEN he answered them every modestly, ac|cordingly to the doctrine by public authority receiv|ed, and taught in this realm at the death of king Edward; which answers were every one written by the register to the uttermost that could make against him. After this, the company for that time broke up, and he was returned to prison again.

The THIRD and LAST APPEARANCE of the Rev. Mr. GEORGE MARSH, before Dr. COTES.

THE bishop was now determined, if Mr. Marsh would not relent and abjure, to pronounce sentence definitive against him. Wherefore he bade the said George Marsh to be well advised what he would do, for it stood upon his life: and if he would not at that present forsake his heretical opinions, it would (after the sentence given) be too late, though he would ever so gladly desire it.

THEN the chancellor first asked him, Whether he were not of the bishop's diocese? To which he answered, that he knew not how large his diocese was at Cambridge. But they asked, whether he had not lately been at Deane parish in Lanca|shire, and there abode? He answered, Yes.

THEN the chancellor read all his answers that he made in that place at his former examination, and at every one he asked him whether he would stick to the same or no? To which he answered again, Yes, yes. Said the chancellor▪ in your last examination▪ amongst many other damnable and schismatical heresies, you s••id, That the church and doctrine taught, and set forth in king 〈…〉〈…〉 time, was the true church, and the doctrine of the true church, and that the church of Rome was not the true and catholic church.

SO said I, replied Mr. Marsh, and I believe it to be true. Here also others took occasion to ask him (for that he denied the bishop of Rome's authority in England) whether Linus, Anacletus, and Clement, that were bishop's of Rome, were not good men; and he answered, Yes, and divers others; but he said, they claimed no more authority in England, than the bishop of Canterbury doth at Rome; and I strive not with the place, neither speak I against the person of the bishop, but against his doctrine, which in most points is repugnant to the doctrine of Christ.

THOU art an arrogant fellow indeed, said the bishop. In what article is the doctrine of the church of Rome repugnant to the doctrine of Christ?

TO whom Mr. Marsh answered, Oh, my lord, I pray you judge not so of me. I stand now upon the point of my life and death; and a man in my case hath no cause to be arrogant, neither am I, God is my record. And as concerning the disagreement of the doctrine, among many other things, the church of Rome erreth in the sacrament. For where Christ in the institution thereof did as well deliver the cup as the bread, saying, "Drink ye all of this;" and St. Mark reporteth, that they did drink of it: in like manner St. Paul delivered it unto the Corinthians. And in the same sort also it was used in the primitive church for the space of ma|ny hundred years. Now the church of Rome doth take away one part of the sacrament from the laity. Wherefore if I could be persuaded in my conscience by God's word, that it were well done, I could gladly yield in this point.

THEN said the bishop, There is no disputing with a heretic. Therefore when all his answers w••re read, he asked him whether he would stand to the same, being as they were full of heresy, or else forsake them, and come unto the catholic church.

To whom he made this full answer, That he held no heretical opinion, but utterly abhorred all

kind of heresy, although they most untruly did so slander him. And he desired all the people there to bear him witness, (if any hereafter should slander him, and say that he held any greivous heresy) that in all articles of religion he held no other opi|nion than was by law established, and publicly taught in England at the death of king Edward the sixth; and in the same pure religion and doctrine he would by God's grace, stand, live, and die. Here the chancellor spake to one Leach, who stood near to Mr. Marsh, and bade him stand farther from him; for his presence did him no good.

THIS being done, the bishop took a writing out of his bosom, and began to read the sentence of condemnation: but when he had read almost half thereof, the chancellor called him, and said, Good my lord, stay, stay: for if you proceed any farther, it will be too late to call it again, and so the bishop stayed. Then his popish priests, and many other of the ignorant people, called upon Mr. Marsh, with many earnest words, to recant; and amongst others, one Pulleyn, a shoe-maker, said to him, For shame man remember thyself, and recant. They bade him kneel down and pray, and they would pray for him: so they kneeled down, and he desired them to pray for him, and he would pray for them.

THE bishop then asked him again, whether he would not have the queen's mercy in time; and he answered, he did gladly desire the same, and did love her grace as faithfully as any of them; but yet he durst not deny his Saviour Christ, lest he lose his mercy everlasting, and so win everlasting death.

THEN the bishop put his spectacles on, and read forward his sentence about five or six lines, and there again the chancellor with flattering words and smiling countenance called to the bishop, and said, yet, good my lord, once again stay, for if that word be spoken, all is past, no relenting will then serve; and the bishop (pulling off his spectacles) said, I would stay if it would be.

HOW sayest thou, said he, wilt thou recant? Ma|ny of the priests and ignorant people bade him do so, and call to God for grace; and pulling him by the sleeve, bade him recant and save his life. To whom he answered, I would as fain live as you, if in so doing I should not deny my master Christ, and then he would deny me before his Father in heaven.

THEN the bishop read out his sentence unto the end, and afterwards said unto him, Now I will no more pray for thee than I will for a dog. Mr. Marsh answered, That notwithstanding he would pray for his lordship; and after this the bishop de|livered him unto the sheriffs of the city. His late keeper said, Farewel good George, with weeping eyes, which caused the officers to carry him to a prison at the north gate, where he was very strictly kept until he went to his death, during which time he had small comfort or relief of any worldly crea|ture.

FOR being in the dungeon or dark prison, none that would do him good could speak with him, or at least durst enterprise so to do, for fear of accu|sation: and some of the citizens who loved him, for the gospel's sake, (whereof there were but few) although they were never acquainted with him, would sometimes in the evening at a hole upon the wall of the city (that went into the said dark prison) call to him and ask him how he did. He would answer them most chearfully, that he did well, and thanked God most highly that he would vouchsafe of his mercy to appoint him to be a witness of his truth, and to suffer for the same, wherein he did most rejoice; beseeching him that he would give him grace not to faint under the cross, but patiently bear the same to his glory, and comfort of his church: with many other such like sayings at sundry times, as one that most desired to be with Christ. Once or twice he had money cast him in at the same hole, about ten pence at one time, and about two shillings at another time; for which he gave God thanks.

WHEN the day and time appointed came that he should suffer, the sheriffs of the city, whose names were Amry and Couper, with their officers, and a great number of poor simple barbers with rusty bills and poll-axes, went to the north-gate,

and there took out Mr. George Marsh, who came with them most humbly and meekly, with a lock upon his feet. And as he came upon the way towards the place of execution, some folks proffer|ed him money, and looked that he should have gone with a little purse in his hand (as felons were accustomed in that city in times past, at their going to execution) to the end to gather money to give unto a priest to say masses for them after their death, whereby they might, as they thought, be saved; but Mr. Marsh said, he would not then be troubled to receive 〈◊〉〈◊〉, but desired some good man to take the money, if the people were disposed to give any, and to give it to the prisoners or poor people. So he went all the way with his book in his hand, looking upon the same, and many peo|ple said, This man goeth not unto his death as a thief, or as one that deserveth to die.

NOW when he came to the place of execution without the city, near unto Spittal-Boughton, one Cawdry, being then a deputy chamberlain of Ches|ter, shewed Mr. Marsh a writing under a great seal, saying, That it was a pardon for him if he would recant. Whereat he answered, That he would gladly accept the same, (and said further, that he loved the queen) but forasmuch as it tended to pluck him from God, he would not receive it upon that condition.

AFTER that he began to speak to the people, shewing the cause of his death, and would have exhorted them to stick unto Christ. Whereupon one of the sheriffs said, George Marsh, we must have no sermoning now. To whom he said, Mas|ter, I cry your mercy; and so kneeling down said his prayers, put off his clothes unto his shirt, and then was chained to the post, having a number of faggots under him, and a thing made like a firkin, with pitch and tar in it, over his head; and by rea|son the fire was unskilfully made, and that the wind did drive the same to and fro, he suffered great extremity in his death, which notwithstanding he bore very patiently.

WE must here observe, that when he had been a long time tormented in the fire without moving, having his flesh so broiled and puffed up, that they who stood before him, could see the chain wherewith he was fastened, and therefore supposed no less but that he had been dead; notwithstanding, suddenly he spread abroad his arms, saying, Father of heaven have mercy upon me, and so yielded his spirit into the hands of the Lord.

UPON this, many of the people said he was a martyr, and died marvellous•••• patient. Which caused the bishop shortly after to make a sermon in the cathedral church, and therein affirmed, that the said Marsh was an heretic, burnt as such, and was a fire-brand in hell.

THE Rev. Mr. Marsh wrote, besides his exa|minations while in prison, several letters to divers persons, of which the following are true copies.

LETTER I. From the Rev. Mr. GEORGE MARSH to his FRIENDS.

HERE you have, dearly beloved friends in Christ, the chief and principal articles of christian doctrine briefly touched, which heretofore I have both believed, professed, and taught, and as yet do believe, profess, and teach, and am surely purposed, by God's grace, to conti|nue in the same until the last day. I do want both time and opportunity to write out at large the probations, cau|ses, parts, effects, and contraries or errors of these articles, which whoso desireth to know, let them read over the common places of the pious and learned men, Philip Me|lancthon, and Erasmus Sarcerius, whose judgment in these matters of religion I do chiefly follow and lean unto. The Lord give us understanding in all things and deliver us from this evil world, according to his will and pleasure, and bring us again out of this hell of affliction, into which it hath pleased the merciful Lord to throw us down; and deliver us out of the mouth of the lion, and from all evil doing, and keep us unto his everlasting and heavenly king|dom. Amen.

THOUGH Satan be suffered as wheat to sift us for a time, yet our faith faileth not through Christ's aid, but that we are at all times able and ready to confirm the faith of our weak brethren, "and always ready to give an answer to every man that asketh us a reason of the hope that is in us, and that with m••ekness and reverence, having a good con|science; and wh••reas they backbite us as evil-doers, they may be ashamed, forasmuch as they have falsely accused our good conversation in Christ." I thought myself, now of late years, for the cares of this life, well settled with my loving and faithful wife and children, and also well qui|eted

in the peaceable possession of that pleasant Euphrates, I do confess it: but the Lord, who worketh all things for the best to them that love him, would not there leave me, but did take my dear and beloved wife from me; whose death was a painful cross to my flesh.

ALSO I thought myself now of late well placed under my most loving and most gentle Mr. Laurence Saunders, in the cure of Langhton. But the Lord of his great mer|cy would not suffer me long there to continue (although for the small time I was in his vineyard, I was not an idle workman). But he hath provided me, I perceive it, to taste of a far other cup; for by violence hath he yet once ••gain driven me out of that pleasing Babylon, that I should not taste too much of her wanton pleasures, but with his most dearly beloved disciples to have my inward rejoicing in the cross of his Son Jesus Christ: the glory of whose church, I see it well, standeth not in the harmonious sound of bells and organs, nor yet in the glittering of mitres and copes, neither in the shining of gilt images and lights (as the blind papists do judge it) but in continual labours and daily afflictions for his name's sake.

GOD at this present here in England, hath his fan in his hand, and after his great harvest, whereinto these years past he hath sent his labourers, is now sifting the corn from the chast, and purging his floor, and ready to gather the wheat into his garner, and burn up the chaff with un|quenchable fire.

TAKE heed and beware of the leaven of the scribes and of the sadducees; I mean the erroneous doctrine of the papists, which with their glosses deprave the scriptures. For as the apostle St. Peter doth teach us, There shall be false teach|ers amongst us, which privily shall bring in damnable sects: and he saith, that many shall follow their damnable ways, by whom the way of truth shall be evil spoken of, and that through covetousness they shall with feigned words make merchandize of us: and Christ earnestly warneth us, to beware of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 prophets, which come to us in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravenous wolves. By their fruits you shall know them. The fruits of the prophets are their doctrine. In this place are we christians taught, that we should try the preachers, and others that come un|der colour to set forth true religion unto us, according to the saying of St. Paul, Try all things, hold fast that which is good. Also the evangelist St. John saith, Believe not every spirit, but prove the spirits whether they be of God or not; for many false prophets, saith he, are gone out into the world. Therefore if thou wilt know the true prophets from the false, try the doctrine by the true touchstone, which is the word of God: and as the godly Beteans did, search the scriptures, whether those things which he preach|ed unto you be even so or not: or else by the outward con|versation of them ye may easily be deceived.

LETTER II. From the Rev. Mr. GEORGE MARSH, to the Faith|ful Professors of LANGHTON.

GRACE be unto you, and peace be multiplied in the knowledge of Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.

I thought it my duty to write unto you, my beloved in the Lord at Langhton, to stir up your minds, and to call to your remembrance the words which have been told you before, and to exhort you (as that good man, and full of the Holy Ghost, Barnabas did the Antiochians) that with purpose of heart ye continually cleave unto the Lord, and that ye stand fast; and be not moved away from the hope of the gospel, whereof, God be thanked, you have had plen|teous preaching unto you by your late pastor Mr. Saunders, and other faithful ministers of Jesus Christ, who now, when persecution ariseth because of the word, do not fall away like shrinking children, and forsake the truth, being ashamed of the gospel whereof they have been preachers, but are willing and ready for your sakes (which are Christ's mystical body) to forsake not only the principal delights of this life, (I mean) their native countries, friends, livings, &c. but also to fulfil their ministry to the utmost, that is to wit, with their painful imprisonments and blood-sheddings, if need shall require, to confirm and seal Christ's gospel, whereof they have been ministers; and (as St. Paul saith) they are ready not only to be cast into prison, but also to be killed for the name of the Lord Jesus.

WHETHER these being that good salt of the earth, that is, true ministers of God's word, by whose doctrine, be|ing received through faith, men are made savoury unto God, and which themselves lose not their saltness, now when they be proved by the boisterous storms of adversity and persecution; or others being that unsavoury salt, which hath lost its saltness, that is to wit, those ungodly ministers, which do fall from the word of God, into the dreams ••nd traditions of Antichrist: whether of these, I say, be more to be credited and believed, let all men judge.

WHEREFORE, my dearly beloved, receive the word of God with meekness, that is grafted in you▪ which is able to save your souls: and see that ye be not forgetful hearers, deceiving yourself with s••phistry, but doers of the word, whom Christ doth liken to a wise man, which built his house on a rock, that when the great rain descended, and the floods came and beat upon the house, it fell not, be|cause it was grounded upon a 〈◊〉〈◊〉: this is to wit, that when Satan, with all his legion of devils, with all their subtle suggestions, and the world with all the mighty prin|ces thereof, with their crafty counsels, do furiously rage against us, we faint not, but abide constant in the truth, being grounded upon a most sure rock, which is Christ, and the doctrine of the gospel, against which th•• gates of hell, (that is, the power of Satan) cannot preva••l.

AND be ye followers of Christ and his apostles, and receive the word in affliction, (as the godly Tessalonians did,) for the true followers of Christ and the apostles, are they who receive the word of God. They only receive the word of God, who believe it, and also frame their lives after it, and are ready to suffer all manner of adversity for the name of the Lord, as Christ and all the apostles did, and as all that will live godly in Christ Jesus must do▪ for there is no other way in••o the kingdom of heaven, but through much tribulation. And if we suffer any thing for the kingdom of heaven's sake, and for righteousness' sake, we have the prophets, Christ, the apostles, and mar|tyrs, for example to comfort us: for they did enter the kingdom of heaven at the strait gate and narrow way that leadeth unto life, which few do find. And unless we will be content, to deny our own selves, and take up the cross of Christ, and his saints, it is an evident argument, that we shall never reign with him.

AND again, If we can find in our hearts patiently to suffer persecutions and tribulations, it is a sure token of the righteous judgment of God, that we are counted wor|thy of the kingdom of God, for which we also suffer. It is verily (saith the apostle) a righteous thing with God, to recompense tribulation to them that trouble us, and rest to us that be troubled: for after this life, the godly being delivered from their tribulation and pains, shall have a most quiet and joyful rest: whereas the wicked and ungod|ly contrariwise shall be tormented for evermore with into|lerable and unspeakable pains, as Christ, by the parable of the rich glutton and wretched Lazarus, doth plainly declare and teach. These we ought to have before our eyes al|ways, that in the time of adversity and persecution we may stand stedfast in the Lord, and endure even unto the end, that we may be saved. For unless we, like good warriors of Jesus Christ, will endeavour ourselves to please him, who hath chosen us to be soldiers, and fight the good sight of faith even unto the end, we shall not obtain that crown of righteousness, which the Lord, that is a righteous judge, shall give to all them that love his coming.

LET us therefore with meekness receive the word that is gra••ted in us, which is able to save our souls, and ground ourselves on the sure rock Christ. For (as the apostle saith) other foundation can no man lay, besides that which is laid already, which is Jesus Christ. If any man build on this foundation, gold, silver, precious stones, timber, hay, stubble, e••ery man's work shall appear, for the day shall declare it, and it shall be sh••wed in the fire. And the fire sh••••l try every man's work what it is. If any man's work that he hath builded upon abide, he shall re|ceive a reward: if any man's work burn, he shall suffer loss; but he shall be saved himself, nevertheless yet as it were through 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

〈…〉〈…〉 the apostle understand persecution and 〈◊〉〈◊〉, for they which do truly preach and profess the word of God, which is called the word of the cross, shall be railed at and abhorred, hated, thrust out of company, persecuted and tried in the furnace of adversity, as gold and silver are tried in the fire.

BY gold, silver, and precious stones, he understandeth them that in the midst of persecutions abide stedfast in the word. By timber, hay, and stubble, are meant such, as in time of persecution do fall away from the truth. And when Christ doth purge his floor with the wind of his ad|versity, these scatter away from the face of the earth like light chaff which shall be burned with unquenchable fire. If then they who believe, stand stedfastly in the truth, the builder (I mean the preacher of the word) shall receive a reward, and the work shall be preserved and saved: but if so be that they go back and swerve, when persecution ari|seth, the builder shall suffer loss, that is to say, shall lose his labour and cost, but yet he shall be saved, if he, being tried in the fire of persecution, do abide fast in the faith.

WHEREFORE, my beloved, give diligent heed, that ye as living stones be builded upon this rock, and be made a spiritual house and holy priesthood to offer up spiritual sacri|fices, acceptable unto God by Jesus Christ. For we are the true temple of God, and the Spirit of God dwelleth in us, if so be that we continue in the doctrine of the gos|pel. We are also an holy and royal priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices and oblations; for the sacrifices of the New Testament are spiritual and of three kinds.

THE first is the sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, which St. Paul doth call the fruits of those lips which con|fess the name of God.

THE second is mercy 〈◊〉〈◊〉 our neighbours, as the prophet Hosea saith, "I will 〈◊〉〈◊〉 mercy and not sacri|fice." Read the 25th of 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

THE third is when we make our body a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable unto God, that is, when we mortify and kill our fleshly concupiscences and carnal lusts, and so bring our flesh, through the help of the ••pirit, under the obedience of God's holy law. This is •• sacrifice to God most acceptable, which the apostle calleth, "Our reasona|ble serving of God." And let us be sure, that unless we do now at this present take better heed to ourselves, and use thankfully the grace of God offered to us by the gospel prea••••ed these years past, whereby we are induced and brough•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the knowledge of the truth; unless, I say, we keep Chr••st and his holy word dwelling by faith in the house and temple of our hearts, the same thing that Christ threateneth unto the Jews, shall happen unto us; that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to wit, the unclean spirit of ignorance, superstition, ido|latry, infidelity, and unbelief, the mother and head of ••••+vices, which by the grace of God was cast out of us, bringing with him seven other spirits worse than himself, shall to our utter destruction return again unto us: and so

shall we be in worse case than ever we were before. For if we, after we have escaped from the filthiness of the world, through the knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ, be yet entangled therein and overcome, then is the latter end worse than the beginning: and it had been better for us not to have known the way of righteousness, than after we have known it, to turn from the holy commandment given unto us.

FOR it then happens unto us according to the true pro|verb, "The dog is turned to his vomit again, and the sow that was washed to wallowing in the mire." And thus to continue and persevere in infidelity, and to kick against the manifest and known truth, and so to die without repentance, and with a despair of the mercy of God in Jesus Christ, is to sin against the Holy Ghost, which shall not be forgiven, neither in this world, nor in the world to come. "For it is not possible (saith St. Paul) that they which were once enlightened, and have tasted of the heavenly gift, and have tasted of the good word of God, and of the power of the world to come; if they fall away, should be renewed again by repentance: forasmuch as they have, as concerning themselves, crucified the Son of God again, making a mocking of him." St. Paul's meaning in this place is, that they that believe truly and unfeignedly God's word, do continue and abide stedfast in the known truth.

IF any therefore fall away from Christ and his word, it is a plain token that they were but dissembling hypocrites for all their fair faces outwardly, and never believed truly; as Judas, Simon Magus, Demas, Hymencus, Philetus, and others were, which all fell away from the known ve|rity, and made a mock of Christ: which St. Paul doth call here, to crucify Christ anew, because that they turning to their old vomit again, did most blasphemously tread the be|nefit of Christ's death and passion under their feet. They that are such can in no wise be renewed by repentance: for their repentance is fleshly, as the repentance of Cain, Saul, and Judas was, which being without Godly comfort, breedeth desperation unto death. These are not of the number of the ••lect: and as St. John doth say, "They went out from 〈◊〉〈◊〉, but they were not of us: for if they had been of us, they would have remained with us unto the end." Also the apostle saith in another place, "If we sin willingly after we have received the knowledge of the truth, there remaineth no more sacrific•• for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 but a fear|ful looking for of judgment and violent fire, which shall devour the adversaries."

THEY sin willingly, which of a set malice and purpose do hold the truth in righteousness and lying, kicking against the manifest and open truth, which although they do per|fectly know that in all the world there is none other sacri|fice for sin, but only that all-sufficient sacrifice of Christ's death; yet notwithstanding they will not commit them|selves wholly unto it, but rather despise it, allowing other sacrifices for sin, invented by the imagination of man, (as we see by daily experience) unto whom, if they abide still in their wickedness and sin, remaineth a most horrible and dreadful judgment. This is that sin unto death, for which St. John would not that a man should pray.

WHEREFORE, my beloved in Christ, let us, (on whom the ends of the world are come) take diligent heed unto ourselves, that now in these last and perilous times (in which the devil is come down, and hath great wrath, be|cause he knoweth the time is short, and whereof the pro|phets, Christ, and the apostles, have so much spoken, and given us an earnest forewarning) we hold not the truth in unrighteousness, believing, doing, or speaking any thing against our knowledge and conscience, or without faith. For if we so do, for whatsoever cause it be, it is a wilful and obstinate infidelity, and a sin unto death: and as our Saviour Christ saith, "If ye believe not, ye shall die in your sins." For unless we hold fast the word of life, both believing it, and also bringing forth fruit worthy of re|pentance, we shall with the unprofitable fig-tree, which did but cumber the ground, be cut down, and our talent taken from us, and given unto another that shall put it to a better use; and we, through our own unthankfulness put from the mercy of God, shall never be able to pay our debts, that is to say, we shall altogether be lost and undone. For the earth that drinketh in rain that cometh oft upon it, and bringeth forth herbs meet for them that dress it, re|ceiveth blessing of God: but that ground that beareth thorns and briars, is reproved and is nigh unto cursing, whose end is to be burned.

NEVERTHELESS, dear friends, we trust to see better of you, and things which accompany salvation, and that ye being the good ground, watered with the moistness of God's word, plenteously preached among you, will with a good heart hear the word of God and keep it, bringing forth fruit with patience; and be none of those forgetful and hypocritical hearers, which although they hear the word, yet the devil cometh, and catcheth away that which was sown in their heart; either having no ••oot in them|selves, endure but a season, and as soon as tribulation or persecution ariseth because of the word, by and by they are offended; or with the cares of this world and deceit|fulness of riches choke the word, and so are unfruitful. Read the parable of the sower, and among other things note and mark, that the most part of the hearers of God's word are but hypocrites, and hear the word without any fruit or profit, yea, only to their greater cond••mnation; for onl•• the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 part of the seed doth bring forth fruit. Therefore let not us that be ministers, or 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and followers of God's word, be disco••raged, though very few do give credit, and follow the doctrine of the gospel, and be saved.

WHOSOEVER, therefore, hath ears to hear, let him hear: for whosoever hath 〈…〉〈…〉 be given, and he shall have abundance: but whosoever hath not, 〈…〉〈…〉

shall be taken away, even what he hath: that is to say, they that have a desire of righteousness, and of the truth, shall be more and more illuminated of God: on the con|trary part, they that do not covet after righteousness and truth, are more hardened and blind, though they seem unto themselves most wise. For God doth here follow an ex|ample of a loving Father, who, when he seeth that fa|therly love and correction do not benefit his children, useth another way. He ceaseth to be beneficial unto them, and to minister unto them fatherly correction: he giveth them over unto themselves, suffering them to live as they lift.

BUT we trust to see better of you, my dearly beloved, and that ye like very Gaderenites, for fear of losing your worldly substance or other delights of this life, will not banish away Christ and his gospel from among you: but that ye with all diligence of mind will receive the word of God, taught you by such ministers, as, now when perse|cution ariseth because of the word, are not ashamed of the testimony of our Lord Jesus, but are content to suffer ad|versity with the gospel, and therein to suffer trouble as evil doers, even unto bonds. And if ye refuse thus to do, your own blood will be upon your own heads. And as ye have had plenteous preaching of the gospel, more than others have had; so ye shall be sure, if ye repent not, and bring forth fruits worthy of repentance, to be sorer plagued, and to receive greater vengeance at God's hand, than others; and the kingdom of God shall be taken from you, and be given to another nation, which will bring forth the fruits thereof.

WHEREFORE, my dearly beloved in Christ, take heed to yourselves, and ponder well in your minds, how fearful and horrible a thing it is to fall into the hands of the living God. And see that ye receive not the word of God in vain, but continually labour in faith, and declare your faith by your good works, which are infallible witnesses of the true justifying faith, which is never idle, but worketh by charity. And see that ye continually give yourselves unto all manner of good works: amongst which, the chiefest are to be obe|dient to the magistrates, (since they are the ordinance of God, whether they be good or evil) unless they command idolatry and ungodliness, that is, things contrary unto true religion. For, then ought we to say with Peter, "We ought more to obey God than man." But in any wise we must beware of tumult, insurrection, rebellion, or re|si••t••nce.

THE weapon of a christian, in this matter, ought to be t••e sword of the Spirit, which is God's word and prayer, coupled with humility and due submission, and with ••••adi|ness of heart, rather to die than to do any ungodliness. Christ also doth teach us, that all power is of God, yea even the power of the wicked, which God causeth ofentimes to reign for our sins and disobedience towa••ds him and his word. Whosoever then doth resist any power, doth resist the ordi|nance of God, and so purchases to himself utter destruction and undoing.

WE must also by all means be promoters of unity, peace, and concord. We must honour and reverence princes, and all that be in authority, and pray for them, and be diligent to set forth their profit and commodity.

SECONDLY, We must obey our parents, or them that be in their rooms, and be careful for our housholds, that they be provided for and fed, not only with bodily, but much rather with spiritual food, which is the word of God.

THIRDLY, We must serve our neighbours by all means we can, remembering well the saying of Christ, "Whatso|ever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye likewise unto them, for this is the law and the prophets."

FOURTHLY, We must diligently exercise the necessary work of prayer for all estates: knowing that God therefore hath so much commended it, and hath made so great promi|ses unto it, and doth so well accept. After these works, we must learn to know the cross, and what affection and mind we must bear towards our adversaries and enemies, whatso|ever they be, to suffer all adversities and evils patiently, to pray for them that hurt, persecute, and trouble us; and by thus using ourselves, we shall obtain an hope and certainty of our vocation, that we be the elect children of God.

AND thus I commend you, brethren, unto God and to the word of his grace, which is able to build further, and to give you an inheritance among all them which are sanctified; beseeching you to help Mr. Saunders and me your late pas|tors, and all them that be in bonds for the gospel's sake, with your prayers to God for us, that we may be delivered from all them that believe not, and from unreasonable and froward men, and that our imprisonment and affliction may be to the glory and profit of our christian brethren in the world, and that Christ may be magnified in our bodies, whether it be by death or life. Amen.

Salute from me all the faithful brethren: and because I write not several letters unto them, let them either read or hear these my letters. The grace of our 〈◊〉〈◊〉 be with you all, Amen. The 28th of June, by the unprofitable servant of Jesus Christ, and now also his prisoner,

GEORGE MARSH.

SAVE yourselves from this untoward generation. Pray, pray, pray: never more need.

LTTTER III. From the Rev. Mr. GEORGE MARSH, to some of his Friends at Manchester, in Lancashire.

GRACE be with you, and peace from God the Father, and from our Lord Jesus Christ, Amen.

AFTER salutations in Christ to you, with thanks for your friendly remembrance of me, desiring and wishing unto you, not only in my letters, but also in my daily prayers, such consolation in spirit, and taste of heavenly treasures, that ye may thereby continually work in faith, labour in love, per|severe in hope, and be patient in all your tribulations and persecutions, even unto the end and coming of Christ: these shall be earnestly to exhort and beseech you in Christ, as ye have received the Lord Jesus, even so to walk, rooted in him, and not be afraid of any terror of your adversaries, be they ever so many and mighty, and you on the other side ever so few end weak: for the battle is the Lord's. And as in times past, God was with Abraham, Moses, Isaac, David, the Maccabees, and others, and fought for them, and delivered all their enemies into their hands, even so hath he promised to be with us also unto the world's end, and so to assist, strengthen, and help us, that no man shall be able to withstand us. "For as I was with Moses, so will I be with thee, saith God, and will never leave thee, nor forsake thee. Be strong and bold; neither fear nor dread: for the Lord thy God is with thee, whithersoever thou goest. Now if God be on our side, who can be against us?"

IN this our spiritual warfare is no man overcome, unless he traitorously leave and forsake his captain, either cowardly cast away his weapons, or willingly yield himself to his enemies, or fearfully turn his back and fly. Be strong there|fore in the lord, dear brethren, and in the power of his might, and put on all the armour of God, that ye may be able to stand stedfast against the crafty assaults of the devil.

NOW what weapons ye must fight withal, learn of St. Paul, a champion both much exercised, and also most valiant and invincible. For we must think none other, but that the life of man is a perpetual warfare upon earth, as the ex|amples of all godly men throughout all ages do declare. The valiant warrior St. Paul being delivered into the hands of the ungodly, and that so many times, and also from so many extreme perils and dangers of death, as he himself doth witness, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 fain to commit himself in the end to the rough water•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the sea, where he was in great peril and jeopardy of his own life: yet was God always (to the great comfort of all that hear of it) most ready to comfort and suc|cour him, and gloriously delivered him out of all his trou|bles; so that no man that invaded him, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 do him any harm: and in the end he was compelled to say, I have finished my course, the time of my departing is at hand, I long to be loosed, and to be with Christ, which is the best of all, most heartily desiring death.

THESE things are written for our learning and comfort, and are to us a sure obligation, that if we submit ourselves to God and his holy word, no man shall be able to hur•• us, and that he will deliver us from all troubles, yea▪ from 〈◊〉〈◊〉 also, until such time as we covet and desire to die. "Let us therefore run with patience unto the battle that is set be|fore us, and look unto Jesus the captain and finisher of our faith, and after his example, for the reward that is set before us, patiently bear the cross, and despise the shame. For all that will live godly in Christ Jesus, shall suffer per|secution."

CHRIST was no sooner baptized, and declared to the world to be the Son of God, but Satan was by and by ready to tempt him: which thing we must look for also: yea, the more we increase in faith and virtuous living, the more strongly will Satan assault us: whom we must learn, after the example of Christ to fight against, and overcome with the holy and sacred scriptures, the word of God, (which are our heavenly armour) and sword of the Spirit. And let the fasting of Christ, while he was tempted in the wilderness, be unto us an example of sober living, not for the space of forty days (as the papists do fancy of their own brains), but as long as we are in the wilderness of this wretched life, assaulted of Satan, who like a roaring lion walketh about, and ceaseth not seeking our utter destruction.

NEITHER can the servants of God at any time come and stand before God, that is lead a godly life, and walk inno|cently before God, but Satan cometh also among them; that is, he daily accuseth, findeth fault, vexeth, persecuteth, and troubleth the godly: for it is the nature and property of the devil always to hurt, and do mischief, unless he be for|bidden of God: for unless God doth permit him, he can do nothing at all.

LET us therefore, knowing Satan's deceits and rancour, walk the more warily, and take unto us the shield of faith, wherewith we may be able to quench and to overcome all the deadly and fiery darts of the wicked. Let us take to us the helmet of salvation, and sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, and learn to use the same according to the example of our great captain Christ. Let us fast and pray continually. For this frantic kind of devils goeth not out otherwise, as Christ doth teach us, but by faithful prayer and fasting, which is true abstinence and soberness of living, if we use the same according to the doctrine of the gospel and word of God. Fasting is acceptable to God, if it be done without hypocrisy, that is to say, if we use it to this intent, that theirby this mortal body may be tamed and brought under the subjection of the spirit: and again, if we fast to this intent, that we may spare wherewith to help and succour our poor needy brethren.

THIS fast do the chris••i••ns use all the days of their life, although among the common sort of people remaineth yet still that superstitions kind of fasting, which God so earnest|ly reproveth by his prophet Isaiah. For as for true chas|tening of the body, and abstaining from vice, with shewing mercy to our needy neighbours, we will neither understand nor hear of it, but still think with the Jews, that we do God a great pleasure when we fast, and that we then fast, when we abstain from one thing and fill our bellies with another.

And verily in this point doth our superstition much exceed the superstition of the Jews: for we never read that they ever took it for a fast, to abstain from flesh, and to eat either fish or white-meat, as they call it.

TO fasting and prayer must be joined alms, and mercy to|wards the poor and needy: and that our alms may be ac|ceptable unto God, three things are chiefly required.

FIRST, That we give with a chearful and joyful heart; for the Lord loveth a chearful giver.

SECONDLY, That we give liberally, putting aside all niggerliness, knowing that he that soweth little, shall reap little, and he that soweth plenteously, shall reap plenteously. Let every man therefore do according as he is able. The poorest wretch in the world may give as great and accept|able an alms in the sight of God, as the richest man in the world can do. The poor widow that did offer but two mites, which make a farthing, did highly please Christ: in|somuch that he himself affirmed, That she of her penury had added more to the offerings of God, than all the rich men, which of their superfluity had cast in very much. "For if there be first a willing mind, (as St. Paul saith) it is accepted, according to what a man hath, and not accord|ing to what a man hath not."

THIRDLY, We must give without hypocrisy and ostenta|tion, not seeking the praise of men, or our own glory or profit. And although the scriptures in some places make mention of a reward to our alms and other good works, yet ought we not to think that we do merit or deserve any thing: but rather we ought to acknowledge, that God in his mere mercy rewardeth in us his own gifts. For what hath he that giveth alms, that he hath not received? He then that giveth to a poor man any manner of thing, giveth not of his own, but of those goods which he hath received of God. "What hast thou (saith the apostle) that thou hast not received? If thou hast received it, why rejoicest thou, as though thou hadst not received it?"

THIS sentence ought to be had in remembrace of all men. For if we have nothing, but that which we have received, what can we deserve? or what need we to dispute and reason of our own merits? it cometh of the free gift of God, that we live, that we love God, that we walk in his fear. Where is our deserving then? We must also in this our spiritual warfare arm ourselves with continual prayer, a very neces|sary, strong, and invincible weapon, and after the example of Christ and all other men, cry heartily unto God in faith, in all our distresses and anguishes. Let us go boldly to the seat of grace, where we shall be sure to receive mercy, and find grace to help in time of need. For now is pride and persecution increased: now is the time of destruction and wrathful displeasure.

WHEREFORE, my dear brethren, be ye fervent in the law of God, and venture your lives, if need shall require, for the testament of the fathers, and so shall ye receive great honour, and an everlasting name. Remember Abraham: was not he found faithful in temptation, and it was reckoned unto him for righteousness? Joseph in the time of his trouble kept the commandment, and was made a lord of Egypt. Phineas was so fervent for the honour of God, that he ob|tained the covenant of an everlasting priesthood. Joshua for the fulfilling of the word of God, was made the captain of Israel. Caleb bare record before the congregation, and received an inheritance. David also in his merciful kind|ness obtained the throne of an everlasting kingdom. Elias being zealous and servant in the law, was taken up into heaven. Ananias, Azarias, and Misael, remained stedfast in the faith, and were delivered out of the fire. In like manner Daniel being unguilty, was saved from the mouth of the lions.

AND thus ye may consider throughout all ages, since the world began, that whosoever put their trust in God were not overcome. Fear not ye then the words of ungodly men; for their glory is but dung and worms; to-day they are set up, and to-morrow they are gone; for they are turned into earth, and their memorial cometh to nought. Wherefore let us take good hearts unto us, and quit ourselves like men in the Lord: for, if we do the things that are commanded us in the law of the Lord our God, we shall obtain great honour therein.

BELOVED in Christ, let us not faint because of affliction, wherewith God trieth all them that are sealed unto life everlasting: for the only way into the kingdom of God is through much tribulation. For the kingdom of heaven (as God teacheth by his prophet Esdras) is like a city built and set upon a broad field, and full of all good things, but the entrance thereof is narrow, (full of sorrow and travail, perils and labours) like as if there were a fire at the right hand, and a deep water at the left; and as it were one strait path between them both, so small, that there could but one man go there. If this city were now given to an heir, and he never went through the perilous way, ho•• ••ould he receive his inheritance? Wherefore seeing we 〈◊〉〈◊〉 this narrow and strait way, which leadeth unto the most joyful and plea|sent city of everlasting life; let us not stagger, neither turn back, being afraid of the dangerous and perilous way, but follow our captain Jesus Christ in the narrow and strait way, and be afraid of nothing, no not ••ven of death itself: for it is he that must lead us to our journey's end, and open us the door unto everlasting life. Consider also the course of this world, how many there be which for their master's sake, or for a little promotion's sake, would adventure their lives in worldly affairs, as commonly in wars, and yet is their reward but light and transitory▪ and our's unspeakably great, and everlasting. They suffer pains to be made lords on earth for a short season: how much more ought we to

endure like pains, yea, peradventure much less, to be made kings in heaven for evermore? Consider also the wicked of this world, which for a little pleasure's sake, or to be aven|ged on their enemies, will fight with sword and weapons, and put themselves in danger of imprisonment and hanging. So much as virtue is better than vice, and God mightier than the devil, so much ought we to excel them in this our spiritual battle.

AND seeing, brethren, it hath pleased God to send me, and that most worthy minister of Christ, John Bradford, your countryman, in the fore-front of this battle, where (for the time) is most danger, I beseech you all, in the bowels of Christ, to help us, and all our fellow-soldiers standing in like perilous places, with your prayers to God for us, that we may quit ourselves like men in the Lord, and give some example of boldness and constancy mingled with patience in the fear of God, that you and others our brethren, through our example, may be so encouraged and strengthened to follow us, that you also may leave example to your weak brethren in the world to follow you, Amen.

CONSIDER what I say; the Lord give us understanding in all things. Brethren, the time is short; it remaineth that you use this world as though ye used it not: for the fashion of this world vanisheth away. See that ye love not the world, neither the things that are in the world: but set your affections on heavenly things, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God. Be meek and long-suffering, serve and edify one another, with the gift that God hath given you. Beware of strange doctrine; lay aside the old conversation of greedy lusts, and walk in a new life. Be|ware of uncleanness, covetousness, foolish talking, false doctrine, and drunkenness: rejoice and be thankful towards God, and submit yourselves one to another. Cease from sin, spend no more time in vice, be sober and apt to pray, be patient in trouble, love each other, and let the glory of God and profit of your neighbour be the only mark you shoot at in all your doings. Repent ye of the life that is past, and take better heed to your doings hereafter. And above all things cleave ye fast to him, who was delivered to death for ou•• sins, and rose again for our justification. To whom wit•• ••he Father, and the Holy Ghost, be all honour and power for evermore. Amen.

SALUTE from me in Christ ••ll others which love us in the faith, and at your discretion make them partakers of these letters: and pray ye all for me and others in bonds for the gospel, that the same God (which by grace hath called us from wicked popery unto true christianity, and now of love proveth our patience by persecution) will of his mercy and favour in the end gloriously deliver us, either by death, or by life, to his glory, Amen. At Lancaster, August 30, 1555.

By me, an unprofitable servant of Christ, GEORGE MARSH.

LETTER IV. From the Rev. Mr. GEORGE MARSH, to JENETH CRAMPTON, JAMES LEIVER, ELICE FOGGE, RALPH BRADSHAW, and others.

THE grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Ghost, be with you all, Amen.

AFTER salutations in Christ, and hearty thanks for your friendly tokens and other remembrances towards me, be|seeching God that ye may increase in faith, fear, and love, and all good gifts, and grow up into a perfect man in Christ: These are earnestly to exhort you, yea and to beseech you in the tender mercy of Christ, that with purpose of heart ye continually cleave unto the Lord, and that ye worship and serve him in spirit, in the gospel of his Son. For God will not be worshipped after the com|mandments and traditions of men, neither yet by any other means appointed, prescribed, and taught us, but by his holy word. And though all men for the most part defile themselves with the wicked traditions of men, and ordinan|ces after the world, and not after Christ; yet do ye after the example of Tobit, Daniel and his three companions, Mattathias and his three sons, be at a point with yourselves, that ye will not be defiled with the unclean meats of the heathen; I do mean the filthiness of idolatry, and the very heathenish ceremonies of the papists: but as the true wor|shippers, serve ye God in spirit and truth, according to the sacred scriptures, which I would wish and desire you above all things continually and reverently (as Christ and St. Paul command you) to search and read, with the wholesome monitions of the same: to teach, exhort, com|fort, and edify one another, and your brethren and neigh|bours, now in the time of this our miserable captivity, and great famishing of souls, for want of the food of God's word. And doubt not but the merciful Lord, who hath promised to be with us even unto the world's end, and that whensoever two or three be gathered together in his name, he will be in the midst of them, will assist you, and teach you the right meaning of the sacred scriptures, will keep you from all errors, and lead you into all truth, as he hath faithfully promised.

And though you think yourselves unable to teach, yet at the commandment of Christ, now in the time of famine, the hungry people being in a wilderness far from any towns, which if they be sent away fasting, are sure to faint and perish by the way, employ and bestow these five loaves and two fishes that ye h••ve, upon that hungry multitude, although you think it nothing among so many. And he that increased the five loaves and two fishes to feed five thousand men, b••sides women and children, shall augment his gifts in you, not only to the edifying and winning of others in Christ, but also to an exceeding

great increase of your knowledge in God and his holy word. And fear not your adversaries; for either accord|ing to his accustomed manner God shall blind their eyes that they shall not spy you, or get you favour in their sight, or else graciously deliver you out of their hands by one means or other.

OBEY with reverence all your superiours, unless they command idolatry or ungodliness. Make provision for your housholds, chiefly that they be instructed and taught in the law of God. Love your wives even as yourselves, and as Christ loved the congregation. Love your children, but abuse them not, lest they be of a desperate mind: and bring them up in the nurture and information of the Lord, and teach them even as the godly parents of Tobit the younger, and Susanna did teach their children, even from their infancy to reverence God according to his law, and to abstain from sin, providing that in no wise they be brought up in idleness and wantonness, seeing that ye reckon yourselves to be children of God, and look for the life which God shall give to them which never turn their belief from him. See that ye even fear God, and keep his com|mandments; and though the plague of God chance upon you, yet remain ye stedfast in the faith and fear of God, and thank him, and serve him in such holiness and right|eousness as are acceptable before him all the days of your life. Comfort yourselves in all your adversities, and stay yourselves in him, who hath promised not to leave you as fatherless and motherless children without any comfort, but that he will come to you like a most gentle and merci|ful Lord. He will continually stand by you in all your troubles, assisting, helping, and succouring you at all times. "I will be with you (saith he) unto the end of the world." And cleave you fast unto him, which was incarnate, lived, wrought, taught, an died for your sins, yea, rose again from death, and ascended into heaven for your justification. Repent ye of the life that is past, and cease from sin, and from henceforward live as much time as remaineth in the flesh, not after the lusts of men, but after the will of God. To do good and distribute, forget not. Fast and pray 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and as every man hath received the gift, minister the same one to another as good ministers of the manifold graces of God, that God in all things may be glorified through Jesus Ch••ist, to whom be praise and dominion for ever, and while the world standeth, Amen.

Your's, GEORGE MARSH.

LETTER V. From the Rev. Mr. GEORGE MARSH to the same.

THE same grace and peace (dearly beloved in Christ) do I intirely desire and wish unto you, which the apostle St. Paul wisheth to all them, unto whom he did write and send his epistles, than which two things no better can be wished and desired of God. Grace is, throughout all the epistles of Paul, taken for the free mercy and favour of God, whereby he saveth us freely without any deservings or works of the law. In like manner peace is taken for the quietness and tranquillity of the conscience, being fully persuaded that through the only merits of Christ's death and blood-shedding, there is an atonement and peace made between God and us, so tha•• God will no more impute our sins unto us, nor yet con|demn us.

DEARLY beloved, I will not be negligent to put you always in remembrance of things, though you know them your|selves, and be also established in the prese••t truth; not|withstanding, I think it meet, as long as I am in t••is tabernacle, to stir you up by putting you in remembranc••. Wherefore I beseech you, brethren, and exhort you in th•• Lord Jesus, that ye increase mor•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 more, even as ye have received, how ye ought to walk, and to please God. And as Barnabas, that good man, and full of the Holy Ghost, exhorted the Antiochi••••s, with purpose of heart cleave ye continually unto the Lord. And stand fast, and be not moved from the hope of the gospel, whereof, God be thanked, ye have had plenteous preaching unto you these years past, by the faithful ministers of Jesus Christ, Leiver, Pilkinton, Bradford, Saunders, and others, who now, when persecution ariseth, because of the word, do not fall away like shrinking children, and forsake the truth, but are glad and ready for your sakes, which are his mystical body, to forsake the chief and principal delights of this life, and some of them in giving place to the outrageous tyranny of the world, to forsake their livings, friends, native land, and other chief pleasures of this life, and to commit themselves to painful exile, that, if it please God, Christ may come again out of Egypt. And others are ready to fulfil their ministry unto the uttermost; that is to say, with their painful imprisonments and blood-shed|ding, if need shall require, to confirm and seal Christ's gospel whereof they have been ministers; and as St. Paul saith, not only to be cast into prison, but also to die for the name of the Lord Jesus.

BE ye not therefore ashamed of the testimony of our Lord Jesus, neither be ye ashamed of us which are his pri|soners, but suffer ye adversity with the gospel, for which word we suffer as evil doers, even unto bonds; but the word of God is not bound with us. Therefore we suffer all things for the elect's sake, they also that pray obtain the salva|tion that is in Ch••ist Jesus with eternal glory: wherefore stand ye fast in the faith, and be not moved from the hope of the gospel, and so shall ye make us even with joy to suffer for your sakes, and as the apostle saith, to fulfil that which is behind of the passions of Christ in our flesh, for his body's sake, which is the congregation. St. Paul doth not here mean, that there wanteth any thing in the passion of Christ, as touching his own person, is that most perfect and all-sufficient sacrifice, whereby we are all made perfect,

as many as are sanctified in his blood: but these his words ought to be understood of the elect and chosen, in whom Christ is, and shall be persecuted unto the world's end. The passion of Christ then, as touching his mystical body, which is the church, shall not be perfected till they have all suffered; whom God hath appointed to suffer for his Son's sake. Wherefore establish yourselves, and be of good comfort, and be not moved in these afflictions, knowing that we are appointed thereunto. For on our parts nothing can be greater consolation and inward joy unto us in our adversity, than to hear of your faith and love, and that ye have a good remembrance of us always, praying for us as we do for you, as the apostle writeth of the Thessalonians, saying, Now are we alive, if ye stand stedfast in the Lord: for good shepherds do always count the welfare and prospe|rous state of Christ's flock to be their own: for while it goeth well with the congregation, it goeth well with them also in whatsoever affliction or adversity they be: but when they see the church in any peril or weakness, then are they weary of their own lives, then can they have no rest nor joy. "Who is weak, (saith St. Paul) and am I not weak? who is offended, and I do not burn." But this affection is not in them that seek their own lucre and glory.

AND forasmuch as the life of man is a perpetual warfare upon earth, let us run with joy unto the battle that is set before us, and like good warriors of Jesus Christ please him, who hath chosen us to be soldiers, and not like shrinking children faint and fall away from the truth now in time of adversity and tribulation, wherewith all that will live godly in Christ Jesus must be tried, even as gold and silver is proved in the fire, and whereof all the scriptures have given us so much forewarning. For God is wont for the most part to warn his elect and chosen, what affliction and trouble shall happen unto them for his sake, not to affright them thereby, but rather to prepare their minds against the boisterous storms of persecution. As we have a notable example in the apostle Paul, unto whom God sent Agabus, who prophesied unto him of the imprisonment and bonds that he should suffer at Jeru|salem; in whom we have also a good example of constancy and stedfastness, who regarding not the tears of his familiar friends, nor yet the peril of his own life, did through fire and water go on still to set forth the glory of God; and he being delivered from the hands of his wicked and blood-thirsty enemies, and that so many times, is in conclusion fain to commit himself to the rough waters of the sea, where he was a long season in great peril and jeopardy of his own life. But God was always (to the great comfort of all that shall hear it) most ready to help and succour him. First, he did send him a most friendly and sweet company, I mean Aristarchus and Lucus, so ruling the heart of the under captain Julius that he courteously treated him, and gave him liberty to go to his friends and to refresh himself; and he was beneficial unto him a•• all times. In like man|ner was God with Joseph, and delivered him from all his adversities, and gave him favour and wisdom in the sight of Pharaoh king of Egypt, insomuch that he made him governor over all Egypt, and over all his houshold. In like manner was he with Jeremy and Daniel, in their great troubles, and appointed men for them in their trials, to relieve, succour and help them, to their singular comfort.

ALSO when Peter was in Herod's prison, sleeping be|tween two soldiers, bound with two chains, and the keepers before the door keeping the prison, the same night that Herod had intended to have brought him out to the people the day following, and to have put him to death to please the Jews withal, as a little before he had killed James the brother of John with the sword; God sent his angel, and the chains fell off from Peter's bands, and the iron gate opened unto him by its own accord, and so was Peter wonderfully delivered by God. For it is the true living God that looseth hands, and delivereth out of prison, and not that feigned god St. Leonard. On that true God did St. Peter call, unto him did he ascribe the glory of his deliverance, saying, Now I know of a truth, that God hath sent his angel, &c.

THESE things are written for our learning, that we through patience and comfort of the scriptures might have hope. The God of patience and comfort grant that we be lik•• minded one towards another, after the example of Christ Jesus, that we all agreeing together, may with one mouth glorify God the father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

A poor prisoner for Christ, GEORGE MARSH.

LETTER VI. From the Rev. Mr. GEORGE MARSH, to ROBERT LANGLEY and other Friends.

THE grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Ghost, be with you•• good brother in Christ, Robert Langley, and with all them that love the Lord Jesus unfeignedly, Amen.

AFTER hearty commendations to you, with thanks for that ye did 〈…〉〈…〉 a prisoner in Christ, although unac|quainted, to your costs, this shall be to let you know, that ye shall receive from me mine own examination and handling at Lathum, and the cause of mine imprisonment, according as I did promise you: and this ye shall receive of my brother, or some one of the Bradshaws of Bolton within this seven night, willing you to sh••w the same to such faithful men about Manchester or elsewhere, as you do take to be favourers of true religion, and Christ's holy word, and then to deliver it again. And whereas you did put me in comfort, that if I did want any thing necessary unto this life, you with some others would be bearers with

me in this costly and painful affliction; I give you most hearty thanks, and rejoice greatly in the Lord, who stirs up the hearts of others to be careful for me in this my great necessity. I thank God, as yet I do want nothing, and intend to be as little chargeable to others (saving my mo|ther) as I can. If I do want, I will be bold with you and others, to send for your relief and help in my necessity; desiring you in the mean while to pray for me, and all others in the bonds of Christ, that God would perform the thing which he hath begun in us, that we may with bold|ness confess Jesus Christ, and fight the good fight of faith.

Your's, GEORGE MARSH.

LETTER VII. From the Rev. Mr. GEORGE MARSH, to one of his Benefactors, an 〈◊〉〈◊〉 pious Friend.

GRACE be with you, and peace be multiplied in the knowledge of God, and Jesus the Lord.

AFTER hearty commendations and thanks to you, not only for your larg•• token, but much more for your loving letters, full of consolation to me as touching my person to you unknown; these shall be to certify you, that I rejoice greatly in the Lord, when I do perceive how my sweet Sa|viour Christ doth stir up the minds, not only of my familiar friends in times past, but also of sundry and divers heretofore unto me unknown and unacquainted, to bear part with me in this my painful and costly imprisonment, sending me things not only necessary for this present life, but also com|fortable letters, encouraging and exhorting me to continue grounded and established in the faith, and not to be moved away from the hope of the gospel, whereof, according to my small talent, I have been a minister; and daily I call and cry unto the Lord in whom is all my trust, and without whom I can do nothing, that he which hath begun a good work in me, would vouchsafe to go forth with it until the day of Jesus Christ, being surely certified in my conscience of this, that he will so do, forasmuch as he hath given me, that not only I should believe on him, but also suffer for his sake. The Lord strengthen me with his Holy Spirit, that I may be one of the number of those blessed, which enduring to the end shall be saved.

AND whereas you say, that my suffering of persecution with Christ is a thing to you most comfortable, I make an|swer, that in all mine adversity and necessity nothing on your behalf is greater consolation unto me, than to hear of the faith and love of others, and how they have good re|membrance of us always, even as the apostle reporteth by the Thessalonians, saying, Now are we alive, if ye stand stedfast in the Lord. For my trust in the Lord is, that this my business shall happen to the furtherance of the gospel, and that you will be none of those forgetful and hypocritish hearers, whereof some being but way-side hearers, the devil cometh and taketh away the word out of their hearts, lest they should believe and be saved: (but let prayer be made without ceasing by the congregation unto God for them) and, no doubt, God will to your consolation gloriously deli|ver by one means or other his oppressed. Only tarry ye the Lord's leisure; be strong, let your heart be of good comfort, and wait ye still for the Lord. He tarrieth not that will come; look for him therefore and faint not, and he will never fail you.

Your's, GEORGE MARSH.

A LETTER, From JAMES BRADSHAW, a godly Brother, to the Rev. Mr. GEORGE MARSH, when in Prison.

GRACE and peace from God the Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ be with you always, Amen.

WE had a letter from you which is a great comfort unto us, to see you take the cross so tha••kfully. Trouble and affliction doth prove, try, instruct, ••onfirm and strengthen the faith, provoke and stir up to prayer, drive and force us to amendment of life, to the fear of God, to meekness, to patience, to constancy, to gentleness, to soberness, temper|ance, and to all manner of virtues, and are the occasion of exceeding much good, as well transitory as eternal, in this world as in the world to come. There is neither good nor bad, godly nor ungodly, but he hath one cross or other. And although some there be that can shift for a while, and make provision for themselves for a time, by craft, soberly, and dissimulation, or by some falshood in fellowship, (as they call it) yet they bring themselves at length into the highest danger, confusion, and shame, both in this world, and in the world to come. And seeing that all the trou•••••• and adversity in this world, are a thousand times more lig•••• and easy, yea nothing in comparison of the eternal fire, which is prepared and already kindled for the unfai•••••••• wicked enemies of God; all faithful and godly 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ought to bear and suffer their transitory affliction an•• ••••••versity the more patiently, willingly, and thankfully, c••••••••••dering and remembering all the dearly beloved frien•••• of God, which were wonderfully vexed and plagued of their ene|mies, Abraham of the Chaldees, Lot of the Sodomites, Isaac of Ishmael, Jacob of Esau, Moses of his people, David of Saul, and of his own son. As for Job, he had not a drop of blood in his body. John the Baptist, the holiest 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ever was born of a woman, was without any law, right 〈◊〉〈◊〉 reason beheaded in prison, as though God had known 〈◊〉〈◊〉 at all of him.

WE have many thousand fellow martyrs and companions of our misery and adversity, in respect of whose imprison|ment, racking, chains, fire, wild beasts, and other means wherewith they were tormented, all that we suffer is but a blast of wind. Therefore now, whosoever is ashamed of the cross of Christ, and aggrieved therewith, the same is ashamed to have Christ for his fellow and companion, and therefore shall the Lord Jesus Christ be ashamed of him at the last day.

THUS I leave for this time, beseeching you to let me have your advice, because I do not outwardly speak that with my tongue that I do not think in my heart. Pray for me, as I do for you. I beseech the Holy Ghost have you in his keeping always, Amen.

By your friend, JAMES BRADSHAW.

A PRAYER Of the Rev. Mr. GEORGE MARSH, which he used to say daily.

O Lord Jesus Christ, which art the only physician of wounded consciences, we miserable sinners trusting in thy gracious goodness, do briefly open unto thee the evil tree of our heart, with all the roots, bought, leaves, and fruits, and with all the crooks, knots, and withered ends, all which thou knowest: for thou thoroughly perceivest as well the inward lusts, doubtings, and denying thy providence, as those gross outward sins which we commit openly and daily. Wherefore we beseech thee according to the little measure of our infirmity, although we be very unable and unapt to pray, that thou wouldst mercifully circumcise our stony hearts, and for these old hearts create new within us, and replenish us with a new spirit, and water and moisten us with the juice of heavenly grace, and wells of spiritual wa|ters, whereby the inward venom and noisome juice of the flesh may be dried up, and custom of the old man changed, and our hearts, always bringing forth thorns and briars to be burned with fire, from henceforth may bear spiritual fruits in righteousness and holiness, unto life everlasting, Amen.

BELOVED, among other exercises, I do daily on my knees, use this confession of sins, willing and exhorting you to do the same, and daily to acknowledge unfeignedly to God your unbelief, unthankfulness, and disobedience against him.

CHAP. VIII. The History of the Lives, Cruel Treatment, Sufferings, and Martyrdom of Mr. WILLIAM FLOWER, the Rev. Mr. JOHN CARDMAKER, Mr. JOHN WARNE, Mr. JOHN SIMSON, and Mr. JOHN ARDELEY, under the Persecution of the inhuman BONNER, in the bloody Reign of MARY I.

I. The History of the Life, Sufferings, and Martyrdom, of Mr. WILLIAM FLOWER, a Monk and Priest, who, for striking a Popish Priest, was apprehended, and, first having his Hand cut off, was martyred for his constant Adherence to the Truth.

WILLIAM FLOWER, otherwise named Branch, was born at Snow-hill, in the county of Cambridge, where he went to school some years, and then came to the abbey of Ely; where, after he had remained a while, he was a professed monk, using and bearing the habit of a monk, and observing the rules and orders of the same house, until he came to twenty-one years of age, or thereabouts; and before he came to that age, being a professed monk, he was made a priest also in the same house, and there did celebrate and sing mass. After that, by reason of a visitation, and certain injunctions by the authority of Henry the eighth, he forsook the same house, and casting from him the monk's habit and religion, took upon him and used the habit of a secular priest, and re|turned to Snow-hill, where he was born; and there he did celebrate and sing mass, and taught children about half a year.

HE then went to Ludgate, in Suffolk, and there served as a secular priest about a quarter of a year;

from thence to Stoniland, where he tarried, and served as a secular priest also, until the coming out of the six articles: and then he departed from thence, and went into Gloucestershire, where after he had made his abode in that country a while, at length in Tewksbury, according to God's holy ordinance, he married a wife, with whom he ever after faithfully and honestly continued: and after his marriage, he tarried in Tewksbury about two years together, and from thence he went to Brosley, where he tarried three quarters of a year, and practised physic and chirurgery. From thence he removed into North|amptonshire, where under a gentleman he taught children to write and read. But departing from those parts he came to London, and there remained for a certain space. After that, being desirous to see his country, he returned to Snow-hill, where he was born; from thence to Brankstrey in Essex, then to Coxall, where he taught children, and coming to Lambeth near London, he hired a house, where he and his wife did dwell together: however for the most part he was always abroad, except once or twice in a month, to visit and see his wife; where he being at home upon Easter-Sunday, about ten or eleven o'clock in the forenoon of the same day, came over the water from Lambeth into St. Mar|garet's church at Westminster; when seeing a priest, named John Cheltam, administering and giving the sacrament of the altar to the people, and therewith being greatly offended in his conscience with the priest for the same, did strike and wound him upon the head, and also upon the arm and hand with his wood knife, the priest having the same time in his hand a chalice, with certain consecrated hosts therein, which were sprinkled with the blood of the said priest.

IN which action as indeed he did not well or evan|gelically, so afterwards, being examined before bishop Bonner, did he no less confess his not well doing in the same, submitting therefore himself willingly to punishment, when it should come. Howbeit touching his belief in the sacrament, and the popish ministration, he neither would nor did submit himself.

W••••REUPON Mr. William Flower, being first ap|prehended and laid in the Gatehouse at Westminster (where he had given two groats the same day a little before to the prisoners, saying, he would shortly after come to them) with as many irons as he could bear; afterwards was summoned before bishop Bon|ner his ordinary, April 19, 1555, where the bishop, after he had sworn him upon a book, (according to his ordinary manner) ministered articles and interro|gatories to him. But before we speak of these, we will here relate a conversation that passed between Mr. Flower and Mr. Robert Smith, a fellow-pri|soner, the substance of which is as follows.

A Conversation between Mr. ROBERT SMITH and Mr. WILLIAM FLOWER, concerning the Crime with which the latter stood charged, of having struck and wound|ed a Popish Priest, while officiating before the Altar, at Westminster.

SMITH.

FRIEND, forasmuch as I understand that you do profess the gospel, and also have done so a long season, I am bold to come unto you, and in the way of communication to demand and learn a truth at your own mouth, of certain things by you committed, to the astonishment not only of me, but of divers others that also profess the truth.

FLOWER.

I praise God for his great goodness in shewing me the light of his holy word: and I give you my hearty thanks for your visitation, intending by God's grace to declare all the truth that you shall demand lawfully of me, in all things.

SMITH.

Then I desire you to shew me the truth of your deed, committed on John Cheltam, priest, in the church, as near as you can, that I may hear from your own mouth how it was.

FLOWER.

I came from my house at Lambeth over the water, and entering into St. Margaret's church, and there seeing the people falling down be|fore a most detestable idol, being moved with ex|treme zeal for my God, whom I saw before my face dishonoured, I drew forth my hanger, and struck the priest which ministered the same unto them; whereupon I was immediately apprehended; and this is most true, as the act is manifest.

SMITH.

Did you not know the person that you struck, or was you not zealous upon him for any evil will or hatred between you at any time?

FLOWER.

No, verily, I never to my knowledge saw the person before that time, neither had evil will or malice; for if he had not had it, another should, if I had at any time came where the like occasion had been ministered, if God had permitted me to do it.

SMITH.

Do you think that thing to be well done, and after the rule of the gospel?

FLOWER.

I do confess all flesh to be subject to the power of Almighty God, whom he maketh his ministers to do his will and pleasure; as in example, Moses, Aaron, Phineas, Joshua, Zimri, Jehu, Ju|dith, Mattathias, with many others, not only chang|ing degrees, but also planting zeals to his honour, ••gainst all order and respect of flesh and blood. For, as St. Paul saith, "His works are past finding out:" by whose Spirit I have also given my flesh at this present unto such order, as it shall please the good will of God to appoint, in death, which before the act committed I looked for.

SMITH.

Think you it convenient for me, or any other, to do the like by your example?

FLOWER.

No, verily, neither do I know if it were to do again, whether I could do it again, or no: for I was up very early at St. Paul's church upon Christ's day in the morning, to have done it in my jealousy: but when I came there, I was no more able to do it, than now to undo that which is done; and yet now being compelled by the Spirit, not only to come over the water, and to enter the church, but being in mind fully content to die for the Lord, gave over my flesh willingly without all fear, I praise God. Wherefore I cannot teach you to do the like. First, Because I know not what is in you. Secondly, Because the rules of the gospel command us to suffer with patience all wrongs and injury: yet nevertheless, if he makes you worthy, that hath made me zealous, you shall not be hinder|ed, judged, nor condemned: for he doth in his people his unspeakable works in all ages, which no man can comprehend. I humbly beseech you to judge the best of the Spirit, and condemn not God's doings: for I cannot express with my mouth the great mercies that God hath shewed on me in this thing, which I repent not.

SMITH.

Are you not assured to have death mi|nistered unto you for the same act committed, and even with extremity?

FLOWER.

I did, before the deed committed, ad|judge my body to die for the same: whereupon I carried about me, in writing, my opinion of God and the holy scriptures; that if it had pleased God to have given them leave to have killed my body in the church, they might in the said writing have seen my hope, which (I praise God) is laid up safe within my breast, notwithstanding any death that may be ministered upon my body in this world; being as|certained of everlasting life through Jesus Christ our Lord, and being most heartily sorry for all my offences committed in this flesh, and trusting shortly, through his mercy, to cease from the same.

SMITH.

I need not examine or commune with you of the hope that you have any further: for I perceive (God be praised) you are in good state, and therefore I beseech God, for his mercies, spread his wings over you, that, as for his love you have been zealous, even to the loss of this life, so he may give you his Holy Spirit to conduct you out of this world into a better life, which I think will be shortly.

FLOWER.

I hunger for the same, dear friend, be|ing fully ascertained that they can kill but the body, which I am assured shall receive life again everlasting, and see no more death; intirely desiring you and all that fear the Lord, to pray with me to Almighty God, to perform the same in me shortly. And thus Robert Smith departed, leaving him in the dungeon, and went again to his ward. And this is the truth, as near as the said Smith could report it.

Now to return again to the matter of his exami|nation. We shewed before, how this William Flower, after his striking the priest, first was laid in the Gatehouse; then, being examined before bishop Bonner, had articles ministered against him, the copy whereof here followeth.

ARTICLES exhibited by Bishop BONNER, against Mr. WILLIAM FLOWER, late of Lambeth, in the County of Surry.

1. THAT thou being of lawful age and discre|tion, at the least seventeen years old, wast

a professed monk in the late abbey of Ely, wherein after thy profession thou remainedst until the age of twenty-one years, using all the mean time the habit and religion of the same house, and was reputed and taken notoriously for such a person.

2. THAT thou wast ordained and made priest, according to the laudable custom of the catholic church, and afterwards thou didst execute and mi|nister as a priest, and wast commonly reputed, named, and taken for a priest.

3. THAT after the premises thou, forgetting God, thy conscience, honesty, and the laudable order of the catholic church, didst, contrary to thy profession and vow, take, as unto thy wife, one woman, com|monly called Alice Pulton, in the parish church of Tewksbury, in the diocese of Gloucester, with whom thou hadst mutual cohabitation, as man and wife, and had by her two children.

4. THAT thou being a religious man and a priest, didst, contrary to the order of the ecclesiastical laws, take upon thee to practise in divers places within the diocese of London, physic and chirurgery, when thou wast not admitted expert or learned.

5. THAT upon Easter day last past, that is to wit, the 14th of April, within the parish church of St. Margaret's, at Westminster, within the county of Middlesex, and diocese of London, thou didst ma|liciously, outragiously, and violently pull out thy wood-knife or hanger. And whereas the priest and minister there, called John Cheltam, was executing his cure and charge, especially in doing his service, and administering the sacrament of the altar to com|municants, then didst thou wickedly and abomina|bly smite with the said weapon, the said priest, first upon the head, and afterwards upon his hands or other parts of his body, drawing blood abundantly from him; the said priest then holding the said sa|crament in his hand, and giving no occasion why thou shouldst so hurt him: the people being grie|vously off••nded therewith, and the said church pol|luted thereby, so that the inhabitants were compel|led to repair to another church to communicate, and receive the said sacrament.

6. THAT by reason of the promise•• thou wast and art by the ecclesiastical laws of the church, amongst other penalties, excommunicated and accursed, in very deed, and not to be accompanied withal, nei|ther in the church nor elsewhere, but in special cases.

7. THAT thou, concerning the truth of Christ's natural body and blood in the sacrament of the al|tar, hast been by the space of one or more years, and yet art at this present, of this opinion, That in the sacrament of the altar, after the words of consecra|tion, there is not really, truly, and in very deed, contained (under the forms of bread) the very true and natural body of our Saviour Jesus Christ.

8. THAT thou for the hatred and disdain that thou hadst and didst bear against the said sacrament, and the virtue thereof, and against the said priest admi|nistering the same, (as before) didst smite, wound, and hurt him in manner and form as before is declared.

9. THAT thou, over and besides the pains due unto thee for the doing of the cruel fact, art also by the order of the ecclesiastical laws of the church, and the laudable custom and ordinance of the same, to be reputed, taken, and adjudged (as thou art in|deed) a very heretic, and to be punished by and with the pains due for heresy, 〈…〉〈…〉 of the said heresy and damnable opinion.

10. THAT all the prem•••••• be 〈◊〉〈◊〉, manifest, no|torious and famous, and that upon the same, and every part thereof, there was and in within the said parish of St. Margaret's, and thereabouts, a public voice and fame.

The Answer of WILLIAM FLOWER to the aforesaid ARTICLES.

TO the first article he answereth and confesseth the same to be true in every part thereof, ex|cept that he saith and confesseth that he never con|sented and agreed in his heart to be a monk.

TO the second article he answereth and confesseth the same to be true in every part thereof. Howbeit he saith, that he never did, nor yet doth esteem the said order of priesthood, according to the order of

the said catholic church, because he was offended therewith in his conscience.

TO the third article he answereth and confesseth, That he intending to live in holy matrimony, and not forgetting God, did marry with the said Alice Pulton named in this article, wherein he believed that he did well, and according to God's laws. Fur|ther, confessing and believing, that all the time when he was a professed monk, and made priest, he did thereby utterly forget God: but when he did marry the said Alice Pulton, and in continuing with her did beget three children, he did rem••mber God, as he saith, and believeth that he did then lawfully.

TO the fourth article he answereth and believeth the same to be true in every part thereof.

TO the fifth article he answereth and confesseth, Than his conscience being greatly offended with the said John Cheltam, priest, for administering the sa|crament of the altar to the people at the place and time specified in this article, he did so smite and strike the same priest with his hanger or wood-knife, as well upon his head, as upon other parts and places of his body, which he remembereth not, whereby blood ran out, and was shed in the said church, as he believeth, having, as he saith, none other cause or matter so to do, but only that his conscience was offended and grieved, in that the same priest did so give and administer the said sacra|ment to the people: which people he believeth was greatly abashed and offended with the said fact and doing, and were compelled to go out of the church, and to repair to another to receive the said sacra|ment. And further, being then demanded and examined, whether he intended to have killed the said priest, or not; he said he would not answer thereunto. And being further examined, whether he did well or evil in striking the said priest, he would make no answer thereunto.

TO the sixth he answereth and saith, That whether he be so excommunicated or accursed, as is contain|ed in this article, he referred himself herein to the ecclesiastical laws.

TO the seventh he answereth and saith, That by the space of six and twenty years now past, he hath always been, and yet is of this opinion touching the said sacrament of the altar, as followeth; namely, that in the sacrament of the altar, after the words of consecration, there is not really, truly, and in very deed, contained, under the form of bread, the very true and natural body of our Saviour Jesus Christ.

TO the eighth he answereth and believeth the same to be true in every part thereof.

TO the ninth he answereth, and herein he refer|reth himself to the said laws, custom, and ordinance specified in this article, that is to say, the canonical laws.

TO the last he answereth and believeth, That those things before by him confessed be true, and those which he hath denied, be untrue; and that the said common voice and fame hath and doth only labour and go upon those things by him before confessed.

By me WILLIAM FLOWER▪

AFTER this examination, the bishop began to instruct him, and to exhort him to return again to the unity of his mother the catholic church, with such reasons as he is commonly wont to use to others, promsing many fair things if he would do so, besides the forgiving what was past.

TO this William Flower answering again, thank|ed him for his offer: and where it was in his power to kill or not to kill his body, he stood therewith contented, let him do therein what he thought; yet over his soul he had no such power, which being once separated from the body, is in the hands of no man, but only of God, either to save or destroy. As concerning his opinion of the sacrament, he said he would never go from what he had spoken, do he with him what he would.

THEN the bishop assigned him again to appear in the same place in the afternoon, betwixt three and four; in the mean time to consider well of his former answers, whether he would stand to the same his opinions or not; which if he so did, he would further proceed against him, &c.

IN the afternoon the said William Flower ap|peared again before the said bishop, at the hour and place appointed. To whom the bishop sitting in his consistory, spake these words: Flower, you was this forenoon here before me, and made an|swer to certain articles; and thereupon I respited you till now, to the intent you should consider and weigh with yourself your state, and to remember while you have time, both your abominable act, and also that evil opinion which you have conceived touching the verity of Christ's true natural body in the sacrament of the altar.

TO whom the said Flower answered as followeth: That which I have said, I will stand to; and there+fore I require that the law may be put in force against me. Whereupon the bishop command|ed his notary (Harward by name) to read to him again his articles, as before. Which being read, the said William Flower persisting in his sentence, answered to all parts of the articles, as in the forenoon before, save only that he requested the bishop concerning the fifth article, he might alter something his answer therein, after this tenor and manner of words, to wit, "And moreover con|fesseth and saith, that whereas he struck the priest on Easter-day last past, in St. Margaret's church in Westminster, he hath since that time, and yet doth mislike himself in that doing, and doth now judge and believe that the same act was evil and wrong. Howbeit he saith and believeth, that for the matter and cause whereof he so struck the said priest, (which was for ministering the sacrament of the altar, which he taketh and judgeth abomi|nable) he neither did nor doth mislike himself at all therein."

MOREOVER, he desireth of the said bishop licence to be granted him, to alter and take out some of the ninth article, and place thereof, these words to be inser••ed; to wit, "Herein he referreth him|self to the laws, custom, and ordinances specified in this article, &c." At which request, Bonner granted to the altering of both the articles according as he desired, and so put in the acts.

AFTER this, the bishop turning again to his old manner of exhorting, endeavoured with fair words to persuade him to submit himself to the catholic church, and to the faith thereof. Not|withstanding all his persuasions, he still remained constant and firm, saying, that he would not be removed from what he had spoken, though he should suffer death for it. Whereupon the bishop assigned him the next day (being the twentieth of April) to appear in the same place, between eight and nine o'clock in the morning, then and there to hear the sentence pronounced in case he would not relent, &c.

THE next morning the said William Flower was brought by the keeper belonging to the warden of the Fleet, before bishop Bonner, who, according to his usual manner, endeavoured to reduce him to his catholic church and the unity thereof, that is, from Christ to Antichrist; sometimes alluring him with fair promises, and sometimes with me|naces, terrors, and threatenings. To which he answered, Do what you will, I am at a point: for the heavens shall as soon fall, as I will for|sake my opinion, &c. Whereupon the bishop, after he had commanded these words to be register|ed, called for the depositions of certain witnesses, produced for the better information of this matter, the names of which witnesses were these; William Jennings, John Bray, Robert Graunt, Richard Dod, William Pampion, Robert Smalwood, the parish priest of St. Margaret's at Westminster. The sum and effect of whose depositions here ensueth.

ROBERT GRAUNT of Westminster, examined upon the said answers of William Flower, saith and deposeth, That he did hear and see the said Flower acknowledge and recognize the said answers, and subscribe to the same with his own hand, and also was present in the church of St. Margaret's in Westminster, when the said William Flower did smite and wound the priest, when he was admini|stering the sacrament; ••nd how this examinant among others pressed towards him to take him, and was hurt thereby upon his chin, and after he was taken, this examinant did help to conduct him to the Gatehouse.

RICHARD DOD of Westminster, examined upo•• the said answers, saith and deposeth, That he did hear and see the said Flower ackno••ledge and

recognize the said answers, and subscribe to the same with his own hand; and also did see and was present, when the said Flower upon Easter-day last past drew his wood-knife, and struck the priest upon the head, hand, and arm: who being wounded therewith, and having a chalice with consecrated hosts there in his hand, sprinkled with the said priest's blood, was rescued by this examinant, and the said Flower carried to the Gatehouse, and the wood-knife taken away by this examinant.

WILLIAM PAMPION, one of the church-warden, of the said parish church of St. Margaret's ••n Westminster, examined upon the said answer of the said Flower, saith and deposeth, That the same answers be true, and in his sight were sub••cribed with the hand of the said Flower. And that, upon Easter-day last past, about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, in the parish church of St. Margaret's in Westminster, among a great number of the people ready to receive the sacrament, the priest's back being turned towards the said Flower, he the said Flower suddenly drew forth his wood-knife, and struck John Cheltam the priest both upon his head, hand, and arm, whereby he was wounded, and bled abundantly, and the chalice with consecra|ted hosts being in his hand, were sprinkled with his blood, and the people in great fear cried out lamentably, as though they should presently have been killed.

ROBERT SMALWOOD of Westminster, examined upon the said answers, saith and deposeth. That he did hear and see the said Flower acknowledge and recognize the said answers, and subscribe the same with his own hand; and touching the stri|king and wounding the priest in St. Margaret's church in Westminster, upon Easter-day last, this examinant saith, he was not there when the fact was done, but immediately after he came to church, and found the priest hurt, and wounded in the head, hand, and arm, by the said Flower, and the people in great heaviness by reason thereof. Also the people did report, as this examinant saith, that Flower did the deed, as the priest had the ••halice in his hand, administering the sacrament to the people.

WILLIAM JENNINGS of Westminster, being ex|amined upon the answers of the said William Flower, saith and deposeth by virtue of his oath, That he did hear and see the said Flower acknow|ledge and recognize the said answers, and subscribe the same with his own hand in the consistory place: and further deposeth, That he upon Easter-day last past was present in the church of St. Margaret's in Westminster, where Flower struck the said John Cheltam, priest, first upon the head, and afterwards upon his arm, whereby the said priest is like to lose his hand. Also this jurate deposeth, that the said John Cheltam had a chalice with certain consecrated hosts therein in his hand, which were sprinkled with the blood of the said priest, and after Flower was apprehended by this exami|nant and others, they carried him immediately to the Gatehouse in Westminster.

JOHN BRAY, one of the church-wardens of the parish church of St. Margaret's in Westminster, sworn and examined upon the said answers, saith and deposeth, That he did hear and see the said Flower acknowledge and recognize the said answers, and also subscribe unto the same: and further deposeth of Flower's striking the priest, in effect, as the rest of the examinants do, and that this said jurate was present there at the doing thereof.

AFTER the depositions of these witnesses were taken, published, and denounced, the said bishop spake to William Flower, and asked him, if he knew any matter or cause why sentence should not be read, and he to be pronounced as an heretic. Whereunto he answered as followeth: I have no|thing at all to say, for I have already said unto you all that I have to say; and what I have said, I will not go from: and therefore do what you will, &c.

WHICH when he had spoken, the bishop pro|ceeded to the sentence, condemning and excommu|nicating him for an heretic, and after pronounced him to be degraded, and so committed him to the secular power. Upon the 24th day of the aforesaid month of April, which was St. Mark's eve, he was brought to the place of martyrdom, which was in St. Margaret's church-yard at Westminster, where the fact was committed: and there coming

to the stake where he should be burned, first he maketh his prayer to Almighty God, with a con|fession of his faith, in manner as followeth.

O Eternal God, most mighty and merciful Father, who hast sent down thy Son upon the earth, to save me and all mankind, who ascend|ed up into heaven again, and left his blood upon the earth behind him, for the redemption of our sins, have mercy upon me, have mercy upon me, for thy dear Son our Saviour Jesus Christ's sake, in whom I confess only to be all salvation and justifi|cation, and that there is no other means, nor way, nor holiness, in which or by which any man can be saved in this world. This is my faith, which I beseech all men here to bear witness of.

THEN he said the Lord's prayer, and so made an end.

THEN Mr. Cholmely came to him, desiring him to recant his heresy, whereby he might do good to the people, or else he would be damned.

FLOWER answered as followeth: Sir, I beseech you for God's sake to be contented: for what I have said, I have said, and I have been of this faith from the beginning; and I trust to the living God he will give me his holy Spirit to continue to the end. Then he desired all the world to forgive him whom he had offended, as he forgave all the world.

THIS done, first his hand being held up against the stake, was struck off, his left hand being fastened behind him. At which striking off of his hand, some that were present, and purposely observing the same, credibly informed us, that he in no part of his body did once shrink at the striking thereof, but once a little stirred his shoul|ders.

AND thus fire was set unto him, who, burning therein, cried with a loud voice, O thou Son of God have mercy upon me, O thou Son of God receive my soul, three times, and so his speech being taken from him, he spake no 〈◊〉〈◊〉 lifting up notwithstanding his stump with his o••••er arm as long as he could.

AND thus he endured the extremity of the fire, being therein cruelly handled, by reason that the few faggots that were brought being not sufficient to burn him, they were fain to strike him down into the fire. Where he lying along (which was doleful to behold) upon the ground, his lower part was consumed in the fire, whilst his upper part was with|out the fire, his tongue in all men's fight still moving in his mouth.

MAY 3, 1555, a letter was sent to George Colt and Thomas Daniel, to make search for and ap|prehend John Bernard and John Walsh, who used to repair to Sudbury, and carrying about with them the bones of Pygot that was burned, shewed them to the people, persuading them to be constant in his religion; and upon examination to commit them to further ordering, according to the laws.

THIS day Stephen Appes was committed to Little Ease in the Tower, there to remain two or three days till further examination.

THE 12th day, Mr. Thomas Ross, preacher, was by the council's letters delivered from the Tower to the sheriff of Norfolk, to be conveyed and deliver|ed to the bishop of Norfolk, and he either to reduce him to recant, or else proceed against him according to the law.

THE 16th, a letter was sent to the lord treasurer, signifying what the lord lieutenant had done for Ross; and that order should be given, according to his lordship's request, for letters to the bishops: and as for Appes, whom the lieutenant of the Tower reporteth to be mad, his lordship perceiving the same to be true, should commit him to Bedlam, there to remain till their further order.

THE 26th, a letter was ••••nt to the lord treasurer, to confer with the bishop of London, and the justi|ces of the peace of that county, wherein they were to be executed that were already condemned for re|ligion, and upon agreement of places, to give order for their execution accordingly.

THE 28th, a letter was sent to the Lord treasurer, to cause speedy preparation to be made of such mo|ney as was appointed for such persons as should car|ry

the joyful tidings of queen Mary's good delivery of ••hild, to divers princes, that they be not com|pelled to stay when the time shall come. The am|bassadors were, the lord admiral to the emperor, the lord Fitzwalter to the French king, sir Henry Sid|ney to the king of the Romans, Richard Shelley to the king of Portugal, whose free passage through France Dr. Wotton was ordered to procure.

THE 29th, a letter was directed to sir Francis In|glefield to make search for one John D. at London, and to apprehend him, and send him to the council, and to make search for such papers and books as he thinketh may touch the same D. or one Benger.

The Martyrdom of Mr. JOHN CARDMAKER, and Mr. JOHN WARNE, who suffered both together in Smith|field, May 30, 1555.

UPON the 30th day of May, John Cardmaker, otherwise called Taylor, prebendary of the church of Wells; and John Warne, upholsterer, of the parish of St. John in Walbrook, suffered toge|ther in Smithfield. Of whom it remaineth now particularly to treat, beginning with Mr. Card|maker, who first was an observant frier before the dissolution of the abbeys: afterwards was a married minister, and in king Edward's time appointed to be a reader in St. Paul's, where the papists were so enraged against him for his doctrine's sake, that in his reading they cut and mangled his gown with their knives. Mr. Cardmaker being apprehended in the beginning of queen Mary's reign, with Mr. Barlow, bishop of Bath, was brought to London, and put in the Fleet prison, king Edward's laws being yet in force. But after the parliament was ended, in which the pope was again admitted as supreme head of the church, and the bishops had also gotten p••wer and authority, officially, to exer|cise their tyranny, these two were brought before the bishop of Winchester, lord chancellor, and others appointed by commission, (as before is mentioned) to examine the faith of such as were then prisoners; and as unto others before, so now unto them the chancellor offered the queen's mercy, if they would agree, and be conformable, &c.

TO this they both made such an answer, as the chancellor with his fellow commissioners allowed them for catholics. Whether they of weakness so answered, or he of subtlety would so understand their answer, that he might have some forged exam|ple of a shrinking brother to lay in the dish of the rest, which were to be examined; it may easily be perceived by this, that to all them which followed in examination, he objected the example of Barlow and Cardmaker, commending their soberness, dis|cretion, and learning. But whatsoever their answer was, yet notwithstanding Barlow was led again to the Fleet, from whence he afterwards being deliver|ed, did by exile constantly bear witness to the truth of the gospel. Cardmaker was conveyed to the Compter in Bread-street, the bishop of London pro|curing it to be published, that he should shortly be delivered, after he had subscribed to transubstantia|tion and certain other articles. To the same prison where Cardmaker was, Mr. Laurence Saunders was brought, (after the sentence of excommunication and condemation was pronounced against him) where these two prisoners had such christian conference, that whatsoever the breath of the bishop blustered, and the sickle ears of the people too lightly believed, in the end they both shewed themselves constant confessors and worthy martyrs of Christ▪ as of Laurence Saunders is alr••••••y written. After whose depar|ture Cardmaker remained there prisoner, to be bait|ed by the papists, who would needs seem to have a certain hope that Cardmaker was become their's. Continual and great conferences divers of them had with him, with reasonings, persuadings, and threat|enings, but all to no effect. To the end that their doings might appear, he required them to put their reasons in writing, and promised by writing to an|swer them.

DR. MARTIN, who bare also a part in those pa|geants, took upon him to be the chief doer by writ|ing, whose long unsavoury letters and simple reasons for transubstantiation, and such papistical trash, Mr. Cardmaker answered largely, learnedly, and substan|tially, confuting the same, opening the falshood of his arguments, and delivering the sentences of the fathers (which Martin abused for his purpose) to their true understandings; which answers I would had come to our hands. Thus constantly abode this good man all their doings, as he did also the death which he suffered in Smithfield in London: whereof an account shall be 〈◊〉〈◊〉. But first we

will survey the matter and manner of the articles objected against him by bishop Bonner, with his an|swers annexed to the same, as followeth.

ARTICLES objected by Bishop BONNER against JOHN TAYLOR, alias CARDMAKER.

1. I Edmund, bishop of London, object against thee, John Taylor, alias Cardmaker, that thou wast and art of the city and diocese of London, and so of the jurisdiction of me Edmund, bishop of London.

2. ITEM, That thou in times past didst profess the rule of St. Francis, and didst by vow promise to keep poverty, chastity, and obedience, according to the rule of St. Francis.

3. ITEM, That thou in times past didst receive all the orders of the church then used; to wit, both greater and lesser.

4. ITEM, That thou after thy said entry into re|ligion, and profession and orders aforesaid, didst take to wife a widow, and with her hadst carnal copula|tion, and didst get with her a woman child, break|ing thereby thy vow and order, and also the ordi|nance of the church.

5. ITEM, That thou hast believed and taught, and so dost believe, that in the sacrament of the al|tar, under the visible signs there, that is to say, un|der the forms of bread and wine, there is really and truly the true and very natural body and blood of our Saviour Jesus Christ.

6. ITEM, That the belief of the catholic church is, that in having the body and blood of Christ real|ly and truly contained in the sacrament of the altar, is to have (by the omnipotent power of Almighty God) the body and blood of Christ invisibly and really present under the said sacrament, and not to make thereby a new God, or a new Christ, or a new body of Christ.

7. ITEM, That it may stand well together, and so is the faith of the catholic church, that the body of Christ is visibly and truly ascended into heaven, and there is in the visible form of his humanity; and yet the same body in substance is invisibly and truly contained in the said sacrament of the altar.

8. ITEM, That Christ at his last supper taking bread into his hands, blessing it, breaking it, giving it to his apostles, and saying, Take, eat, this is my body; did institute a sacrament there, willing that his body really and truly should be contained in the said sacrament, no substance of bread and wine there remaining, but only the accidents thereof.

Mr. CARDMAKER'S ANSWERS to the aforesaid ARTICLES.

TO the first article he answereth, and confesseth the same to be true in every part thereof.

TO the second article he answereth and confesseth, That he being under age, did profess the said order and religion, and afterwards by the authority of king Henry VIII. he was dispensed with for the same religion.

TO the third he answereth, and confesseth the same to be true in every part thereof.

TO the fourth he answereth, and confesseth the first part thereof to be true; and to the second part of the same article he answereth and saith, that in marriage he brake no vow, because he was set at liberty to marry, both by the laws of this realm, and also by the laws and ordinances of the church of the same.

TO the fifth he answereth and confesseth, That he hath believed and taught as it is contained in this article, but he doth not now so believe or teach.

TO the sixth he answereth, That he doth not believe the same to be true in any part the••••of.

TO the seventh he answereth, That he doth not believe the same to be true in any part thereof.

TO the eighth he answereth and doth believe▪ that it is true; that is to say, that Christ taking bread at

his last supper into his hands, blessing it, breaking it, giving it to his disciples, and saying, Take, eat, this is my body, did institute a sacrament there. And to the other part of this article, namely, Wil|ling that his body really and truly should be con|tained in the said sacrament, no substance of bread and wine there remaining, but only the accidents thereof, he answereth, that he doth not ••elieve the same to be true.

By me, JOHN CARDMAKER.

MR. Cardmaker calling to mind afterwards the ready cavillings of the papists, and thinking himself not to have fully, and according to his true mean|ing answered the latter part of the last article, did the next day, after the aforesaid answers, exhibit unto the bishop in a schedule this here following.

"WHERE in my answer to your articles I deny the presence of Christ in the sacrament, I mean not his sacramental presence, for that I confess; but my denial is of his carnal presence in the same. But yet further, because this word is oftentimes taken by the holy fathers, not only for the bread and wine, but also for the whole administration and receiving of the same according to Christ's institution: so I say, that Christ is present spiritually too, and in all them which worthily receive the sacrament; so that my denial is still of the real, carnal, and corporal presence in the sacrament, and not of the sacramental nor spiritual presence.

THIS I have thought good to add to my former answer, because no man should misunderstand it.

By me, JOHN CARDMAKER."

ARTICLES objected against JOHN WARNE, Upholsterer, of the parish of St. John, in Walbrook; with his Answers to the same.

FIRST, That you John Warne, being of the age of 29 years, and of the parish of St. John of Walbrook, in London, hast believed, and dost believe firmly and stedfastly, that in the sacrament of the altar there is not the very true and natural body of our Saviour Christ in substance, under the forms of bread and wine.

ITEM, That thou hast believed, and dost believe, that after the words of consecration spoken by the priest, there is not (as the church of England doth believe and teach) the body of Christ; but that there doth only remain the substance of material bread, as it is before the consecration, or speaking the words of consecration; and that the said bread is in no wise altered or changed.

ITEM, That thou hast said and dost believe, that if the catholic church do believe and teach, that there is in the mass now used in England, and in other places of Christendom, a sacrifice containing the body and blood of Christ really and truly; then that belief and faith of the church is naught, and against God's truth and the scripture.

ITEM, That thou hast said, that about a twelve-month ago and more, a rough spaniel of thine was shorn on the head, and had a crown like a priest made on the same, thou didst laugh at it and like it, though thou didst it not thyself, nor knewest who did it.

ITEM, That thou neither this Lent last past, nor at any time since the queen's majesty's reign, hast come into the church, or heard mass, or been con|fessed, or received the sacrament of the altar; and hast said that thou art not sorry that thou hast so done, but that thou art glad, because thou hast not therewith defiled thy conscience, which otherwise thou shouldst have done.

UPON all which articles John Warne being exa|mined by the said bishop Bonner, in the presence of divers witnesses, May 23, 1555, did confess and be|lieve the same, and subscribe hereunto his name with his own hand.

By me, JOHN WARNE.

IT was also objected against the said John Warne, by the aforesaid bishop, as followeth.

ITEM, That thou John Warne wast in time past here in the city of London, accused in Guildhall of heresy against the sacrament of the altar, according to the order of the laws of this realm of England in the time of king Henry VIII. and when alderman Barnes was then sheriff, and the Thursday after that

Anne Askew was burnt in Smithfield; and there|upon thou wast sent a prisoner to Newgate, to whom Edmund, bishop of London, did repair with his chaplains, to instruct thee in the true faith of Christ, touching the said sacrament of the altar, and to bring thee from thy error, which was, that in the sacra|ment of the altar there is not the body of Christ, nor any corporal presence of Christ's body and blood, under the forms of bread and wine: but ••hat in the said sacrament there is only material bread and wine, without any substance of Christ's body and blood at all: and because thou wouldst not leave and forsake thy said heresy therein, but persist and abide obsti|nately and wilfully therein, thou wert, according to the said laws condemned to death and to be burnt; and thereupon suit being made for thee to the king and others in the court, thou hast a pardon of king Henry VIII. and thereby didst save thy life.

NEVERTHELESS, in thy heart, conscience, and mind, thou didst both then, and also before believe no otherwise than at this present thou dost believe; that is to say, that in the sacrament of the altar there is neither the very true body or blood of Christ, nor any other substance but the substance of material bread and wine; and to receive the said material bread and wine, and to break it, and to distribute it among the people, only is the true receiving of Christ's body, and no otherwise: so that thy faith and belief is, that in the said sacrament there is no substance of Christ's material body and blood; but all the thing that is there is material bread, and the receiving of it as before; and that the substance of the natural and ••rue body of Christ, born of the vir|gin Mary, is only in heaven and not in the sacra|ment of the altar. In which thine opinion thou hast ever hitherto since continued, and so dost continue at this present, thou confessing all this to be true, and in witness thereof subscribing thy name there|unto, as followeth.

By me, JOHN WARNE.

JOHN WARNE being examined upon the aforesaid articles by the bishop before certain witnesses, whose names were John Roswell, John Heywood, and Robert Ravens, the 23d of May, did answer for the same, confessing and granting the articles and con|tents thereof to be true, according as they were ob|jected in every part, subscribing also the same with his hand. Such strength and fortitude God's Holy Spirit wrought in him, to stand stoutly and confi|dently to the defence of the sincere doctrine of his Son.

WHEREUPON the bishop exhorting him with many words to leave his heresies, (as he called them) and to return to the bosom of his mother the holy church, commanded him to appear again the next day, be|ing the 24th of May.

WHO so doing (and answering as he did before) was ordered to come thither again in the afternoon, and so he did: at which time he was earnestly ex|horted by the said bishop to recant his opinions. To whom he answered, that he would not depart from his received profession, unless he were there|unto thoroughly persuaded by the holy scriptures.

UPON which answer he was ordered to come again the next day, being the 25th of May, at one of the clock in the afternoon. At which day and hour the bishop examined him again upon all his former articles objected, to which he most constant|ly adhered, with this further answer added there|unto: I am persuaded (said he) that I am in the right opinion, and I see no cause to recant; for all the filthiness and idolatry is in the church of Rome.

THE bishop then seeing that notwithstanding all his fair promises and terrible threatnings, (whereof he used many) he could not prevail; finished this examination with the definitive sentence of condem|nation pronounced against the said John Warne, and charged the sheriffs of London with him, under whose custody he remained in the prison of New|gate, until the 30th day of May.

WHICH day being appointed for their execution, John Cardmaker, with the said John Warne, were brought by the sheriffs to the place where they should suffer; who being come to the stake, first the sheriffs called Mr. Cardmaker aside, and talked with him secretly, during which time Mr. Warne had said his prayers, was chained to the stake, and had wood and reeds set about him, while Mr. Cardma|ker was talking with the sheriffs.

THE people who before had heard that Mr. Card|maker

would recant, and beholding this, were great|ly afflicted, thinking indeed that Mr. Cardmaker would now recant at the bu••••ing of Mr. Warne. At length Mr. Cardmaker departed from the she|riffs, and came towards the stake, and in his gar|ments as he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 kneeled down and made a long prayer in silence to himself. His prayers being ended, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 rose up, put off his clothes unto his shirt, and went with a bold courage unto the stake, and kissed it: and taking Mr. Warne by the hand, he heartily comforted him, and so gave himself to be bound to the stake most gladly. The people see|ing this so suddenly done, contrary to their fearful expectation, as men delivered out of a great doubt, cried out for joy, saying, God be praised, the Lord strengthen thee▪ Cardmaker, the Lord Jesus receive thy 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ And this continued while the executioner put 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to them, and both passed through the fire to the blessed rest and peace among God's holy saints and martyrs, to enjoy the crown of triumph and vic|tory prepared for the elect soldiers and warriors of Christ Jesus in his blessed kingdom. To whom be glory and majesty for ever. Amen.

The CONFESSION and FAITH of Mr. JOHN WARNE, 〈…〉〈…〉 wrote the Day before he suffered, May 30, 1••55

"I Believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth."

A Father, because he is the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who is the everlasting word, whom be|fore all worlds he hath begotten of himself, which word was made flesh, and therein also manifested to be his Son, in whom he hath adopted us to be his children, the inheritors of his kingdom, and there|fore he is our Father: an Almighty God, because he hath of nothing created all things visible and in|visible, both in heaven and in earth, even all crea|tures contained therein, and governeth them.

"And in Jesus Christ his only Son our Lord."

THE eternal word, perfect God with his Father, of equal power in all things, of the same substance, of like glory, by whom all things were made and have life, and without whom nothing liveth: he was made also perfect man, and so being very God, and very man in one person, is the only Saviour, Redeemer, and Ransomer of them which were lo•••• in Adam our forefather. He is the only means of our deliverance, the hope of our health, the surety of our salvation.

"WHICH was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the virgin Mary."

ACCORDING to the Father's most merciful promise, this eternal Son of God, forsaking the heavenly glory, humbled himself to take flesh of a virgin, according to the scriptures, uniting the substance of the Godhead to the substance of the manhood which he took of the substance of that blessed virgin Mary in one person, to become therein the very Messiah, the anointed king and priest, for ever appointed 〈◊〉〈◊〉 pacify the Father's wrath, which was justly gone out against us all for sin.

"SUFFERED under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried, and descended into hell."

HE was arraigned before Pontius Pilate the ruler of Jewry, and so unjustly accused of many crimes, that the ruler judged him innocent, and sought means to deliver him; but contrary 〈◊〉〈◊〉 known justice, he did let go Barabbas who had deserved death, and delivered Christ to be crucified, who deserved no death: which doth manifestly de|clare that he suffered for our sins, and was buffetted for our offences, as the prophets do witness, thereby to have it manifested to all men, that he is that Lamb of God that taketh away the sins of the world. Therefore suffering for our sins, he re|ceived and did bear our deserved condemnation, the pains of death, the taste of abjection, the very terror of hell, yielding his Spirit to his Father, his body to be buried in the earth.

"THE third day he rose again from death to life."

TO make full and perfect the work of our redemption and justification, the same crucified body which was laid in the grave, was raised up the third day from death, by the power of his Father, and glory of his Godhead: he became the first fruits of the resurrection, and got the victory

over death, that all by him might be raised up from death. Through whom all true penitent sinners may now boldly come unto the Father, and have remission of their sins.

"HE ascended into heaven and fitteth at the right hand of God the Father Almighty."

AFTER that in his death and resurrection he had conquered sin, death, and the devil, and had been conversant forty days in the earth, being seen of the apostles, and more than five hundred brethren at once, in the same body in which he wrought the work of our salvation, he ascended into heaven with eternal triumph, for the victory over death, sin, and hell, leaving the passage open, by which all true believers may and shall enter into his king+dom, where he now sitteth at his Father's right hand, that is to say, in power and glory equal, in majesty co••ternal.

"FROM thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead."

HE shall appear again in great glory to receive his elect unto himself, and to put his enemies un|der his feet, changing all living men in a moment, and raising up all that be dead, that all may be brought to his judgment. In this shall he give to each man according to his deeds. They which have followed him in regeneration, which have their sins washed away in his blood, and are clothed with righteousness, shall receive the everlasting kingdom, and reign with him for ever; and they which after the race of the corrupt generation of Adam have followed flesh and blood, shall receive everlasting damnation with the devil and his an|gels.

"I believe in the Holy Ghost."

I do believe that the Holy Ghost is God the third person in the Trinity, in unity of the God|head equal with the Father and the Son, given through Christ to inhabit our spirits, by which we are made to feel and understand the great power, virtue, and loving kindness of Christ our Lord. For he illuminateth, quickeneth, and certifieth our spirit, that by him we are sealed up unto the day of redemption, by whom we are regenerate and made new creatures, so that by him and through him we do receive all the abundant goodness pro|mised us in Jesus Christ.

"THE holy catholic church."

THIS is an holy number of Adam's posterity, elected, gathered, washed, and purified by the blood of the Lamb from the beginning of the world, and is dispersed through the same by the tyranny of Gog and Magog; that is to say, the Turk and his tyranny, and Antichrist, otherwise named th•• bishop of Rome, and his angels, as this day also doth teach.

"THE communion of saints."

WHICH most holy congregation, (being, as St. Paul teacheth, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ being the head corner stone) tho' it be by tyranny of Satan and his minis|ters persecuted, some by imprisonment, some by death, and some by other afflictions and painful torments; yet doth it remain in one perfect unity, both in faith and fellowship: which unity is knit in an unspeakable knot, as well of them which are departed from this mortal life, as of them which now be living, and hereafter shall be in the same, and so shall continue until they all do meet in the kingdom, where the head Jesus Christ, with all his holy members, (of which number thro' Christ I assuredly believe I am one) shall be fully com|plete, knit, and united together for evermore.

"THE forgiveness of sins."

I do believe that my sins, and all their sins which do rightly believe the holy scripture, are forgiven through Jesus Christ, of whom I do pro|fess that I have my whole and full salvation and redemption, which St. Paul saith, cometh not thro' our works and deservings, but freely by grace, lest any should boast himself. Thro' the blood of the cross all things in heaven and earth are reconciled, and set at peace with the Father; without him no heavenly life given, nor sin for|given.

"THE resurrection of the body."

I do believe, that by the same my Saviour Christ; I and all men shall rise again from death; for he, as St. Paul saith, is risen again from the dead, and is become the first fruits of them which sleep. For by a man came death, and by a man cometh the resurrection from death. This man is Christ, through the power of whose resurrection I believe that we shall all rise again in these our bodies; the godly clothed with immortality to live with Christ forever; the wicked also shall rise immortal to live with the devil and his angels in death ever|lasting.

"AND the life everlasting."

THRO' the same Jesus, and by none other, I am sure to have life everlasting. He only is the way and entrance into the kingdom of heaven. "For God so loved the world, that he did give his only Son Jesus Christ, to the end that so many as do believe in him might have everlasting life." Which I am sure to possess so soon as I am dissolved, and departed out of this tabernacle, and in the last day both body and soul shall possess the same for ever, to which God grant all men to come.

I believe, that the sacraments, that is to say, of baptism and of the lord's supper, are seals of God's most merciful promises towards mankind. In baptism, as by the outward creature of water I am washed from the filthiness which hangeth on my flesh, so do I assuredly believe, that I am by Christ's blood washed clean from my sins, thro' which I have sure confidence of my certain salvation. In the partaking of the Lord's supper, as I receive the substance of bread and wine (the nature of which is to strengthen the body) so do I by faith receive the redemption wrought in Christ's body broken on the cross, life by his death, resurrection by his resurrection, and in sum, all that ever Christ in his body suffered for my salvation, to the strength|ening of my faith in the same. And I believe, that God hath appointed the eating and drinking of the creatures of bread and wine in his holy supper ac|cording to his word, to move and sti•• up my mind to believe these articles above written.

THIS is my faith; this do I believe; and I am content by God's grace to confirm and seal the truth of the same with my blood.

By me, JOHN WARNE.

Mr. CARDMAKER'S LETTER to his FRIEND.

THE peace of God be with you. You shall right well perceive that I am not gone back, as some men do report of me, but as ready to give my life, as any of my brethren, that are gone before me, altho' by a policy I have a little prolonged it, and that for the best, as already it appeareth unto me, and shall shortly appear unto all. That day that I recant any point of doctrine, I shall suffer twenty kinds of death, the Lord being mine assistance, as I doubt not but he will. Commend me to my friend, and tell him no less. May the Lord strengthen you, me, and all his elect: my riches and poverty are as they were wont to be, and I have learned to rejoice in poverty as well as riches, for that I account now to be very riches. Thus fare you well in Christ. Salute all my brethren in my name. I have conf••••••ed with some of my adversaries, learned men, and I find that they be but sophists and shadows.

MR. CARDMAKER being condemned, and in Newgate, one Mr. Beard came to him two or three days before he suffered death, and said unto him, Sir, I am sent unto you by the council, to know whether you will recant or no?

CARD.

From which council are you come? I think you are not come, nor yet sent from the queen's council, but rather from the commissioners, unto whom (as I suppose) you belong. And where•••• you would know, whether I will reca••t or 〈◊〉〈◊〉, thus I pray you report of me to those whom you said sent you. I know you are a taylor by your occupation, and have endeavoured yourself to be •• cunning workman•• and thereby to get your living▪ so I have been a preacher these twenty years, and ever since that God by his great mercy hath opened mine eyes to see his eternal truth, I have by his grace en••eavoured myself to call upon him, to give me the true understanding of his holy word and I thank him for his great mercy: I hope I have discharged my conscience in the setting forth of the same, to that little talent that I have re|ceived.

BEARD.

Yea, sir; but what say you to the blessed sacrament of the altar?

CARD.

I say, and mark it well, that Christ, the night before his bitter passion, ordained the holy and blessed communion, and hath given com|mandment, that his death should be preached before the receiving thereof, in remembrance of his body broken, and his precious blood shed for the forgiveness of our sins, to as many as faithfully believe and trust in him.

AND furthermore, to conclude the matter briefly with him, he asked him, Whether the sacrament he spoke of, had a beginning or no? Whereunto when he had granted and affirmed the same to be, then Mr. Cardmaker again thus inferred there|from: If the sacrament (said he) as you confess, have a beginning and an ending, then it cannot be of God: for God had no beginning nor ending: and so desiring him well to note the same, he departed from him.

THE fifth day, Mr. Secretary Bourne, the master of the rolls, sir F••••ncis Englefield, sir Richard Read, and Dr. Hughes, authorizing them, or two or three of them at least, to proceed to further examination of Benger, Cary, D. and Field, upon such points as they shall gather out of their former confessions, concerning their lewd and vain practice of calculating or conjuring, presently sent unto them with the said letters.

THE seventh day, another letter was sent to sir John Tre••onwel, willing him to join in commission with said lord North, and others above-named, about the examination of the said parties and others, for conjuring and witchcraft.

AND the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of August, Cary and D. were set at liberty upon 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for their good appearance until Christmas after.

THE twelfth day a letter was sent to the lord treasurer, to cause writs to be made to the sheriff of Sussex, for the burning and executing of Di••ike▪ a b••ewer a•• ••ewes, and two others the one at Stainings, the other at Chichester.

THE 23d of June a letter was sent to Bonner, to examine a report given to the council of four pa|rishes in the county of Essex, that still used the English service, and to punish the offenders, if any such be.

The HISTORY of JOHN SIMSON and JOHN ARDE|LEY, of the Parish of WIGBOROW-THE-GREAT, in ESSEX.

JOHN SIMSON and JOHN ARDELEY were condemned for the same cause and on the same day with Mr. Cardmaker and John Warne, which was the 25th day of May. But before we come to the story of them, first here is to be noted the copy of the king and queen's letter directed from the court the same day, and sent by a post early in the morning to bishop Bonner, in tenor and form as followeth.

RIGHT reverend father in God, right trusty and well beloved, we greet you well. And where of late we addressed our letters to the justices of peace within every of the counties of this our realm, whereby amongst other instructions given them for the good order and quiet go|vernment of the country round about them, they are willed to have a special regard unto such disordered persons as (forgetting their duties towards God and us) do lean to any erroneous and heretical opinions, refusing to shew themselves conformable to the catholic religion of Christ's church; wherein if they cannot by good admonitions and and fair means reform them, they are willed to deliver them to the ordinary, to be by him charitably travelled withal, and removed (if it may be) from their naughty opinions, or else, if they continue obstinate, to be ordered according to the laws provided in that behalf: understanding now, to our no little marvel, that divers of the said disordered persons, being by the justices of peace, for their contempt and obstinacy, brought to the ordinaries to be used as afore|said, are either refused to be received at their hands, or if they be received, are neither so travelled with, as christian charity requireth, nor yet proceeded withal accordi•••• to the order of justice, but are suffered to continue in their errors, to the dishonour of Almighty God, and dangerous example of others; like as we find this matter very strange, so we have thought convenient both to signify our knowledge and therewith also to admonish you to have in this behalf such regard henceforth to the office of a good pastor and bishop, as when any such offenders shall be by the said office•••• or justices of the peace brought unto you, you to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 your good wisdom and discretion in procuring to re|move them from their errors, if it may be, or else in proceeding against them (if they shall con••ine obstinate) according to the order of the laws; so as thro' your good furtherance, both God's glory may be better advanced, and the common-wealth more quietly governed. Given under our signet, at our manor of Hampton-court, the 24th of May, the first and second years of our reign.

THIS letter coming from the court to the bishop, made him the more earnest and hasty to the con|demnation, as well of others, as of these men, of whom we are now treating, namely, Mr. John Sim|son and Mr. John Ardeley; who being both of one county, of one town, and of one trade, that is, being both husbandmen in the town of Wigborow in Es|sex, and also almost both of one age, Simson being of the age of 34, the other of 30, were brought up both together by the under-sheriff of Essex, before Bonner, bishop of London, upon the accusation of heresy, as in that time it was called.

AS concerning the order and manner of their ex|aminations before the bishop, as the articles objected against them were much alike, so their answers again to the same were not much different in manner and form, as here followeth, taken out of the bishop's own registers.

ARTICLES objected by Bishop BONNER, against JOHN SIMSON and JOHN ARDELEY, Husbandmen, at FULHAM.

1. THAT thou John Simson (or John Ardeley) husbandman, of the age of 34 years or thereabouts, wast and art of the parish of Great-Wigborow, within the diocese of London, and thou hast not believed, nor dost believe, that there is here on earth one catholic and universal whole church, which doth hold and believe all the faith and reli|gion of Christ, and all the necessary articles and sacraments of the same.

2. ITEM, That thou hast not believed, nor dost 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that thou art necessarily bounden, under the pain of damnation of thy soul, to give full faith and credence unto the said catholic and universal church, and to the religion of the same, in all necessary points of the said faith and religion, without waver|ing or doubting in the said faith or religion, or in any part thereof.

3. ITEM, That thou hast not believed, nor dost believe, that that faith and religion, which both the church of Rome, Italy, Spain, England, France, Ireland, Scotland, and all other churches in Europe, being the members and parts of the said catholic and universal church, do believe and teach, is both agreeing with the said catholic and universal church, and the faith and religion of Christ, and also is the very true faith and religion which all christian peo|ple ought to believe, observe, follow, and keep: but to the contrary, thou hast believed, and dost believe, that that fatih and religion, which the said church of Rome, and all the other churches aforesaid have heretofore believed, and do now believe, is false, erroneous, and naught, and in no wise ought to be believed, observed, kept, and followed by any chris|tian man.

4. ITEM, That albeit it be true, that in the sa|crament of the altar there is in substance the very body and blood of Christ under the forms of bread and wine, and albeit that it be so believed, taught, and preached undoubtedly in the said church, of Rome, and all other the churches aforesaid, yet thou hast not so believed, nor dost so believe; but contrariwise, thou hast and dost believe firmly and stedfastly, that there is not in the said sacrament of the altar, under the said forms of bread and wine•• the very substance of Christ's body and blood, but that there is only the substance of material and com|mon bread and wine, with the forms thereof; and that the said material and common bread and wine, are only the signs and tokens of Christ's body and blood, and by faith to be received, only for a re|membrance of Christ's passion and death, without any such substance of Christ's body and blood at all.

5. ITEM, That thou hast believed and taught, and thou hast openly spoken, and to thy power maintained and defend••••, and so dost believe, think, maintain, and defend, that the very true receiving and eating of Christ's body and blood, is only to take material and common bread, and to break it, and to distribute it amongst the people, remember|ing thereby the passion and death of Christ only.

6. ITEM, That thou hast likewise believed, taught, and spoken, that the mass now used in this realm of England, and other the churches aforesaid, is abo|minable and naught, and full of idolatry, and is of the ordinance of the pope, and not of the institution of Christ, and hath no goodness in it, saving the glory in the highest, and the epistle and the gospel; and that therefore thou hast not, and wilt not come

to be present at the mass, nor receive the sacrament of the altar, or any other sacrament of the church, as they are now used in this realm of England, and other the churches aforesaid.

7. ITEM, That thou hast in times past believed precisely, and obstinately affirmed and said, and so dost now believe and think, that auricular confes|sion is not needful to be made unto the priest, but it is a thing superfluous and vain, and ought only to be made to God, and to none other person: and likewise thou hast condemned as superfluous, vain, and unprofitable, all the ceremonies of the church and the service of the same, and hast said, that no service in the church ought to be said but in the English tongue, and if it be otherwise said, it is un|lawful and naught.

JOHN SIMSON and JOHN ARDELEY's Answers to the foresaid Articles.

TO the first, they believe, that here on earth there is one catholic and universal holy church, which doth hold and believe as is contained in the first article, and that this church is dispersed and scattered abroad throughout the whole world.

TO the second, they believe, that they be bound to give faith and credence unto it, as is contained in the second article.

TO the third, as concerning the faith and religion of the church of Rome, of Italy, Spain, France, Ireland, Scotland, and other churches in Europe, they say, they have nothing to do with that faith and religion: but as concerning the faith and reli|gion of England, that if the said church of England be ruled and governed by the word of life, then the church of England hath the faith and religion of the catholic church, and not otherwise; and do say also, that if the church of England were ruled by the word of life, it would not go about to condemn them and others of this heresy.

TO the fourth they answer, that in the sacrament, commonly called the sacrament of the altar, there is very bread and very wine, not altered nor changed in substance in any wise, and that he that receiveth the said bread and wine, doth spiritually and by faith only receive the body and blood of Christ, but not the very natural body and blood of Christ in substance under the forms of bread and wine.

TO the fifth they say, they have answered, in an|swering to the said fourth article, and yet neverthe|less they say, that they have believed, and do believe, that in the sacrament of the altar there is not the very substance of Christ's body and blood, but only the substance of the natural bread and wine.

TO the sixth they say, that they believe, that the mass is of the pope, and not of Christ; and there|fore it is not good, nor having in it any goodness, saving the Glory in the highest, the epistle and gos|pel, the creed, and the Lord's-prayer; and for this cause they say they have not, nor will they come and hear mass.

TO the seventh John Ardeley answereth and saith, That he believeth the contents of the same to be true; but John Simson doth answer, that he is not as yet fully resolved with himself, what answer to make thereunto; and further, that as touchin•• the common and daily service said and used in the church, he saith, that he never said that service in the church ought to be said but in the English tongue; neither did he ever say, that if it be other|wise said and used than in English, it is unlawful and naught.

JOHN ARDELEY and JOHN SIMSON.

THESE articles being thus objected to them, and their answers made unto the same, as before, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 bishop, according to his usual manner, ••espi••••d them to the afternoon, between the hours of two and three. At which time the bishop repeating again the said articles unto them, and beginning with John Ardeley, did urge and solicit him to recant.

TO whom John Ardeley answered in the follow|ing words: My lord, said he, neither you, nor any other of your religion, i•• of the catholic church; for you be of a false faith: and I doubt not but you shall be deceived at length, bear as good a face as you can. You will shed the innocent blood, and you have killed many, and yet go about to kill more, &c.

HE added further, saying, If every hair of my head were a man, I would suffer death in the opi|nion and faith I now profess. These with many other words he spake. Then the bishop yet de|manded if he would relinquish his erroneous opi|nions (as he called them) and be reduced again to the unity of the church. He answered, No, God forbid that I should so do, for then I should lose my soul.

AFTER this the said bishop read the sentence of condemnation against him, as he also did against John Simson, standing likewise in the same cause and constancy with John Ardeley, after asking them in his formal manner, if they knew any cause why sentence should not be pronounced against them: which was done the 25th of May, and so were both committed to the secular power, that is, to the hands of the sheriffs, to be conveyed to the place where they should be executed. But before I come to their execution, I must not omit what happened in the closing up the examination of these good men, which is this.

AT the time of the examination of John Simson and John Ardeley aforesaid, there were assembled such a great multitude of people, that because the consistory was not able to hold them, they were fain to stand in the church, near about the said consisto|ry, waiting to see the prisoner•• when they should depart. It happened in the mean time, that the bishop being set in a heat with the stout and bold answers of the said two prisoners, especially of John Simson, burst out in his loud and angry voice, and said, Have him away, have him away.

THE people in the church hearing these words, and thinking (because the day was far spent) that the prisoners had their judgment, they being desir|ous to see the prisoners had to Newgate, severed themselves, some running one way, others another way, which caused such a noise in the church, that they in the consistory were all amazed, and marvel|led what it should mean: wherefore the bishop also being somewhat afraid of this sudden stir, asked what there was to do. The standers-by answering, said, That there was like to be some insurrection or tumult, for they were all together by the ears.

WHEN the bishop heard this, by and by his heart was in his heels, and leaving his seat, he with the rest of the court betook them to their legs, hasten|ing with all speed possible to recover the door that went into the bishop's house: but the rest being somewhat lighter of foot than my lord, did sooner recover the door, and thronging hastily to get in, kept the bishop still out, and cried, Save my lord, save my lord; but meaning yet first to save them|selves if any danger should come, whereby they gave the standers-by good matter to laugh at. But of this enough is said.

NOW John Simson and John Ardeley being de|livered (as is aforesaid) to the sheriffs, were shortly after sent down from London to Essex, where they were both put to death in one day, but not in the same place, for John Simson suffered at Rochford, and John Ardeley at Railey.

FOR the better consideration of the rigorous cruel|ty of these catholic days, this is furthermore wor|thy of all men to be noted, and known to all poste|rity, concerning the examinations of John Ardeley and his company, how that they being brought before the commissioners, were by them greatly charged of stubborness and vain-glory. Unto whom they answered in defence of their own sim|plicity, that they were content willingly to yield to the queen all their goods and lands, that they might be suffered to live under her, in keeping their con|science free from all idolatry and popery. Yet this could not be granted, although they had offered all to their heart's blood; so greedy and so thirsty are the persecutors of christian blood. The Lord give all such repentance if it be his will, and keep from them the just reward of such cruel dealing. Amen.

CHAP. IX. Further Proceedings of Bishop BONNER against the PROTESTANTS, together with the Lives, Examinations, and Martyrdoms of THOMAS HAUKES, THOMAS WATS, THOMAS OSMOND, WILLIAM BAMFORD, and NICHOLAS CHAMBERLAIN, who were all inhu|manly burnt in the bloody Reign of Queen MARY I.

The ridiculous proceeding of Bishop BONNER, against JOHN TOOLY, whose Body being taken out of his Grave, was given to the secular Power, and so burn|ed for an Heretic.

ABOUT the same time of the burning of John Simson and John Ardeley, in the beginning of the month of June, fell out a solemn process, and much ado was made about the pope's spirituality, against John Tooly in a case of heresy. The story is this: There was about the time that the Spa|niards began first to make a stir in England, one John Tooly, a citizen and poulterer in London, who conspired with others of this society, to rob a Spaniard at St. James's: and although the deed was heinous and wicked of itself, yet was it aggravated and made greater than it was by others, being com|mited against such a person, and against such a coun|try, which both the queen and her whole court did highly favour. The robbery being known, and brought into judgment, Tooly was found guilty, and adjudg••d to be hanged, whereas notwithstand|ing in this realm there are many more thefts com|mitted than thieves executed.

THE aforesaid Tooly being led to the gallows, (which stood near Charing-Cross•• a little before he died, standing upon the cart, read a certain prayer in a printed book, and two other prayers written in two several papers: who then having the halter about his meek, desired the pe••ple there present to pray for him, and to b••ar him 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that he died a true christian man, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that he trusted to be saved only by the merits of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 passion, and shedding of his precious ••lood, and not by any masses, or ••rent••ls, 〈…〉〈…〉, which were, as he said, m••re idolatry and 〈…〉〈…〉 by the bishop of Rome; and as the same Tooly, and two others his fellows which were there hanged with him, did steal and rob for covetousness, so the bishop of Rome did sell his masses and trentals, with such paltry, for covetousness, and there being in a ••reat anger (as appeared) against the bishop of Rome, spake with a loud voice the following words: "From the tyranny of the bishop of Rome, and all his detestable enormities; from false doctrine and heresy, and from the contempt of thy word and commandment, good Lord deliver us."

AND then adding further to the same, he spake unto the people; All you that be true christian men, say with me, Amen. And immediately thereupon three hundred persons and more, to the judgment and estimation of those that were there present, answered and said, Amen, three times together at least.

AFTER this it happened, that when John Tooly had read the bill the first time, it sell from him, and a certain young man (who was thought to be an apprentice) stooped down and took up the bill, and climbed up by the side of the cart, and delivered it to Tooly again, which he again did read to the people. That done, he delivered unto one of the marshal's officers, the book aforesaid, and desired him to deliver it to one Mr. Haukes, saying, that it was his book. Furthermore, he delivered one of the prayers, written in a paper, to one Robert Bromely, serjeant▪ who desired to have it of him; on the top of which was written a line, containing these words, Beware of Antichrist; and subscribed underneath. By me Thomas Harold, prisoner in the Marshalsea, enemy to Antichrist. For the bill a|foresaid. Robert Bromely was afterwards brought, and was fain to ask pardon of the bishop, and to detest all the words of Tooly, and glad so to escape.

THUS while Tooly had made his prayers, as is abovesaid, to be delivered from the pope's tyranny, by the same prayer he fell into great tyranny. For so soon as the report of this fact came to the ears of the priest•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 mitred prelates, they were not a little mad therea••, thinking it not tolerable that so great a reproach should be done against the holy father. Calling therefore for a council together, as though it had been a matter of great importance, Tooly's talk at his death was debated among them.

AT last (after much pro and contra) they all con|sented to those men's judgment, who thought it meet that the violating of the pope's holiness should be revenged with fire and faggot. And it is very probable that cardinal Poole was no small doer in this sentence: for as Winchester and Bonner did always thirst after the blood of the living, so Poole's lightning was for the most part kindled against the d••••d; and he reserved this charge only to himself, I know not for what purpose, except peradventure being loth to be so cruel as the other, he thought nevertheless by this means to discharge his duty to|wards the pope. By the same cardinal's orders, the bones of Martin Bucer and Paulus Phagius, which had been almost two years in their graves, were taken up and burned at Cambridge, as Tooly's car|cass was at London. And besides this, because he would shew some token of his diligence in both universities, he caused Peter Martyr's wife, a wo|man of worthy memory, to be digged out of the church-yard, and to be buried on the dung-hill. Of these two prodigious acts you shall hear more hereafter. But now to our purpose of Tooly, who having ended his prayer, was hanged and put into his grave, out of which he was digged again, by the ••••••mand of the bishops, and because he was so bold as to deny the ••uthority of the bishop of Rome, at the time of his death, it pleased them to judge and condemn him as an heretic, upon the commandment of the council's letter, as here ap|peareth.

The COUNCIL's LETTER to Bishop BONNER.

AFTER our very hearty commendations to your lordship, understanding that of late amongst others that have suffered about London for their offences, one lewd person that was con|demned for felony, died very obstinately, professing at the time of his death sundry heretical and errone|ous opinions; like as we think it not convenient that such a matter should be overpassed without some example to the world, so we thought good to pray your lordship to cause further inquiry to be made thereof, and thereupon to proceed to the making out of such process as by the ecclesiastical laws is provided in that behalf. And so we bid your lordship heartily well to fare. From Hamp|ton-Court, April 28, 1555.

Your lordship's loving friends,

• STEPH. WINTON, chanc.
• F. SHREWSBURY
• JOHN GAGE
• THOMAS CHENEY
• R. ROCHESTER
• WILLIAM PETER
• R. SOUTHWELL.

SOON after a citation was set up upon St. Paul's church door, under the bishop of London's great seal; the tenor whereof here ensueth.

The Writ or Mandate of Bishop BONNER, set up at Charing-Cross, St. Paul's Church Door, and at St. Martin's in the Field's, for the citing and further inquiring into the Case of JOHN TOOLY.

EDMUND, by the sufferance of God, bishop of Lon|don, to all and singular p••rsons, vicars, curates, and others, clerks and learned men, being within our diocese of London, and especially unto Richard Clony, our sworn sumner, greeting, salutation, and benediction. Forasmuch as it is come to our hearing by common same, and the de|claration of several credible persons, that one John Tooly, late citizen and poulterer of London, the son of perdition and iniquity, coming to the profundity of malice at the self same time which he should go to hanging, according to the laws of the realm, for the great theft lately by him commit|ted, at which time chiefly he should have cared for the wealth of his soul, and to have died in the unity of the catholic church, did utter divers and sundry damnable, blasphemous, and heretical opinions and errors, utterly contrary and re|pugnant to the verity of the catholic faith, and unity of the fame, and did exhort, stir up, and encourage the people, there standing in great multitude, to hold and defend the same errors and opinions: and moreover, certain of the people there standing, as it did appear, affected with errors and heresies, as favourers and defenders of the said Tooly, did confirm and give express consent to the aforesaid words, propositions, and affirmations: which thing we do utter with sorrow and bitterness of heart.

WE therefore the aforesaid Edmund, and bishop above|said, not being able, nor daring to pass over in silence, nor wink at the aforesaid heinous act, lest by our negligence and slackness the blood of them might be required at our hands at the most terrible day of judgment, desiring to be certified and informed whether the premises declared unto us be of the truth, and lest that any scabbed sheep, lurking amongst the simple flock of our Lord, do infect them with deadly heresy: to you therefore we straitly charge and com|mand, that you cite, or cause to be cited all and singular, having and knowing the truth of the premises, by setting up this citation upon the church door of St. Martin's in the fields, being within our diocese of London, and also up|on the cathedral church door of St. Paul's in London, leaving there the copy hereof, or by any other means or ways, the best you can, that this citation and monition may come to their knowledge.

ALL which and singular by the tenor of these presents we cite and admonish that they appear, and every one of them do appear before us, our vicar general, or commissary, what|soever he be in that behalf, in our cathedral church of St. Paul's in London, in the consistory place, upon Thursday the second day of May, now next ensuing, betwixt the hours of nine and ten or the clock in the forenoon the same day, to bear witness of the truth in this behalf, and to de|pose and declare faithfully the truth that they know or have heard of the premises, and moreover to do and receive what law and reason doth require.

FURTHER we commit unto you as before, and straitly enjoining you do command, that ye will generally cite the wife of the said Tooly that is dead, and his children, and his kindred by father and mother, his friends and familiars especially, and all other and every of them, if there be any perhaps that desire to defend and purge the remembrance of the person in the premises, that ye admonish them after the manner and form aforesaid, whom we likewise, by the tenor of these presents, do in such sort cite and admonish that they appear all, and ••hat every one of them do appear (under pain to be compelled to keep silence for ever hereafter in this behalf) before us, or our vicar general in spiritual mat|ters, or such our commissary, at the day, hour, and place aforesaid, to defend the good name and remembrance of him that is dead, and to say, alledge, and propose in due form of law a cause reasonable, if they have or can tell of any, why the said John Tooly, that is dead, ought not to be deter|mined, and declared for such an heretic and excommunicate person, and his remembrance condemned, in the detesting and condemning of so heinous a deed and crime, and his body or ••arca••e to lack church burial, as a rotten member cut off from the church, and the same to be committed to the arm and power secular, and they compelled hereafter for ever to hold their peace.

AND furthermore, to do, receive, and to suffer as law and reason will, and as the quality of such matter, and the nature themselves do constrain and require; and moreover, that you cite and admonish, after the manner aforesaid, all and every of the receivers, favourers, and creditors of the said John Tooly that is dead, especially if any of them do in|cline and give consent to those wicked and detestable affir|mations, propositions, and rehearsals aforesaid, that on this side the said Thursday they return and submit themselves unto us, and to the lap of the mother holy church: which thing if they do, we trusting upon the mercy of Almighty God, do promise that we will receive them being penitent for such their errors and faults, with thanks, benignity, mercy, and favour, to the comfort and health of their own souls, and in that behalf save their honesties to the utter|most of our power; otherwise, if they will not provide th•••• to come of their own accord, but to abide the ordinary process of the law, let those men know that we will punish more severely this offence, according to the uttermost of the law, and as far as the law will bear it; and what ye shall do in the premises, let him among you, which shall execute this our present mandate, certify us, or our 〈◊〉〈◊〉 general in spiritual matters, either by his own person▪ or by his letters patent, together with these authentically sealed.

Dated at London under our seal, the last day of April, 1555, and of our translation the 11th.

WHEN the time of this citation was expired, and this Tooly being cited did not appear; next in or|der of law came the suspension, (whereas one suspen|sion had been enough for him) and after that cometh the excommunication, that is, that no man should eat or drink with him: or if any met him by the way, he should not bid him good morrow, and be|sides that, he should be excluded from the commu|nion of the church. These things being prepared in such a manner, as in such cases full wisely they use to do, at length one stood up that made answer to certain articles, rehearsed in judgment openly, and that in behalf of the dead man. But when the poor dead man could neither speak for himself, nor did (as they said) sufficiently answer them by the other, to avoid the name of an heretic; first wit|nesses were provided against him, whose names were Henry Clark, Esq Thomas Way, keeper of the Marshalsea; Philip Andrew, under-marshal; Wil|liam Walter, chandler; Richard Longman, mer|chant-taylor; Philip Britten, John Burton, brewers; Thomas Smith, serjeant. Then he was condemn|ed for an heretic, and so committed to the secular power, namely to the sheriffs of London, who with the like diligence went about to execute their charge. Therefore receiving the man, being suspended, ex|communicated, condemned as an heretic, and be|sides

that, dead, they laid him on the fire to be burned, namely, for a continual remembrance there|of: this was done the fourth day of June.

The LIFE and MARTYRDOM of THOMAS HAUKES, Gentleman.

IMMEDIATELY after the story of Dr. Taylor, mention was made of six men brought before bishop Bonner upon the 8th day of February, whose names were Stephen Knight, W. Pygot, Thomas Tomkins, J. Lawrence, William Hunter. In which number was also Thomas Haukes, and condemned likewise with them the 9th day of February. But because his execution did not so shortly follow their's, but was prolonged to the 10th day of June, it followeth therefore now consequently to give an account thereof; first beginning briefly with his pious conversation and institution of life, then shew|ing of his troubles, also of his examinations and con|flicts with the bishop and other adversaries, accord|ing as the order of the story doth require.

AS touching therefore his education and order of life, first he was of the county of Essex, born of an honest stock, in calling and profession a courtier, brought up daintily from his childhood, and like a gentleman. Besides that, he was of such come|liness of stature, so well endued with excellent qua|lities, that he might seem on every side a man (as it were) made for the purpose. But his gentle beha|viour towards others, and especially his fervent study and singular love unto true religion and piety did surmount all the rest. Wherein as God did singularly adorn him; even so he, being such a va|liant martyr of God, may seem to make famous the whole company of other holy martyrs, and as a bright star to make the church of God and his truth, of themselves bright and clear, more gloriously to shine by his example.

FOR if the conquests of martyrs are triumphs of Christ, (as St. Ambrose doth notably and truly write) undoubtedly Christ in few men hath either conquered more notably, or triumphed more glo|riously, than in this young man: he stood so wise|ly in his cause, so pious in his life, and so constant|ly in his death.

BUT to the declaration of the matter: first Mr. Haukes following the fashion of the court, as he grew in years, entered service with the lord of Ox|ford, where he remained a good space, being there right well esteemed and loved by all the houshold, so long as Edward the sixth lived. But he dying, all things began to go backward, religion to decay, true piety not only to wax cold, but also to be in danger every-where, and chiefly in the houses of great men. Haukes misliking the state of things, and especially in such men's houses, rather than he would change the profession of true godliness, which he had tasted, thought to change the place; and so, forsaking the nobleman's house, departed thence to his own home, where more freely he might give himself to God, and use his own conscience.

BUT what place in this world shall a man find so secret for himself, whither the old wicked serpent cannot creep, whereby he may have some matter to overthrow the quietness of the godly? Now in the mean time, Haukes keeping his house at home, had born unto him a young son, whose baptism was de|ferred to the third week, for that he would not suf|fer him to be baptized after the papistical manner, which thing the adversaries not able to suffer, laying hands upon him, did bring him to the earl of Oxford, there to be reasoned with, as not sound in religion, in that he seemed to contemn the sa|craments of the church.

THE earl either intending not to trouble himself in such matters, or else seeing himself not able to weigh with him in such cases of religion, sent him up to London with a messenger, and letters, and so, willing to clear his own hands, put him in the hands of Bonner, bishop of London; the contents of which his letter sent to Bonner, are as follow.

MOST reverend father in God, be it known unto you, that I have sent you one Thomas Haukes, dwel|ling in the county of Essex, who hath a child that hath re|mained unchristened more than three weeks; who, being upon the same examined, hath denied to have it baptized, as it is now used in the church, whereupon I have sent him to your good lordship, to use as you think best, by your good discretion.

WHEN the bishop had perused this letter, and afterwards read it to Mr. Haukes, he hearing the

same, thought with himself that he should not be very well used, seeing he was put to his discretion. Then wrote the bishop a letter again to him that sent the prisoner, with many great thanks for his diligence in setting forth the queen's proceedings. Then the bishop began to enter communication with Mr. Haukes, first asking, what should move him to leave his child unchristened so long? To whom Mr. Haukes answered thus again as followeth.

Haukes.

Because we are bound to do nothing contrary to the word of God.

Bonner.

Why? baptism is commanded by the word of God.

Haukes.

His institution therein I do not deny.

Bonner.

What deny you then?

Haukes.

I deny all things invented and devised by man.

Bonner.

What things are those that be devised by man, that you are so offended withal?

Haukes.

Your oil, cream, salt, spittle, candle, and conjuring of water, &c.

Bonner.

Will you deny that which all the whole world and your fathers have been contented withal?

Haukes.

What my father and all the whole world have done, I have nothing to do with: but what God hath commanded me to do, to that stand I.

Bonner.

The catholic church hath taught it.

Haukes.

What is the catholic church?

Bonner.

It is the faithful congregation, whereso|ever it be dispersed throughout the whole world.

Haukes.

Who is the head thereof?

Bonner.

Christ is the head thereof.

Haukes.

Are we taught in Christ, or in the church now?

Bonner.

Have you not read in the eighth of St. John where he said, He would send his Comforter which should teach you all things?

Haukes.

I grant you it is so, that he would send his Comforter, but to what end? Forsooth to this end, that he should lead you into all truth and veri|ty, and that is not to teach a new doctrine.

Bonner.

Ah sir, you are a right scripture man. For you will have nothing but the scripture. There is a great number of your countrymen of your opi|nion. Do you know one Knight and Pygot?

Haukes.

Knight I know, but Pygot I do not know.

Bonner.

I thought you were acquainted with him: it seemeth so by your judgment. What preachers do you know in Essex?

Haukes.

I know none.

Bonner.

Do you know one Baget?

Haukes.

Yes, forsooth, I know him.

Bonner.

What manner of man is he?

Haukes.

An honest man so far as I know.

Bonner.

Do you know him if you see him?

Haukes.

Yes, that I do.

[Then said he to one of his servants, Go call me Baget hither; and then said to me, You seem to be a very proud man and stubborn. He that brought me up, stood all this while by.]

Haukes.

What should move your lordship so to say?

Bonner.

Because I see in a man that came with you, much humility and lowliness.

Haukes.

It seemeth that your lordship speaketh that to me, because I make no courtesy to you: and with that came Baget. Then the bishop said to Baget, How say you, sir, know you this man?

Baget.

Yes, forsooth, my lord; with that Baget

and I shook hands. Then said the bishop to Ba|get, Sir, this man hath a child which hath lain three weeks unchristened, (as I have letters to shew) who refuseth to have it baptized, as it is now used in the church: how say you thereto?

Baget.

Forsooth, my lord, I say nothing thereto

(with low courtesy to the hard ground.)

Bonner.

Say you nothing thereto? I will make you tell me whether it be laudable, and to be fre|quented or used in the church or not.

Baget.

I beseech your lordship to pardon me, he is old enough, let him answer for himself.

Bonner.

Ah knave, are you at that point with me? Go call me the porter, said he, to one of his men, thou shalt sit in the stocks, and have nothing but bread and water I perceive I have kept you too well. Have I made thus much of you, and are you at this point? Then came the bishop's man, and said, The porter is gone to London: then said the bishop to Baget, Come with me, and he went away with him, and commanded me away, and bade one of his gentlemen to talk with me, (who was one of his own teaching) who desired amongst other things to know of me, with whom I was acquainted in Essex, and what men they were that were my teachers.

Haukes.

When I see your commission I will make you answer. And then immediately came the bi|shop again: but before he came, his man and I had much talk. Then the bishop sat down under a vine in his orchard, and called Baget to him, whom he carried away, and brought again, and called me also, and said to Baget, How say you now unto baptism? Say whether it be to be frequented and used in the church, as it is now, or no?

Baget.

Forsooth, my lord, I say it is good.

Bonner.

I befool your heart, could you not have said so before? You have wounded this man's con|science. Then the bishop turned to me, and said; How say you now, sir? this man is turned and converted.

Haukes.

I build not my faith upon this man, nei|ther upon you, but only upon Christ Jesus, who (as St. Paul saith) is the founder and author of all men's faith.

Bonner.

I perceive you are a stubborn fellow. I must therefore go to work another way with you, to win you.

Haukes.

Whatsoever you do, I am ready to suf|fer it; for I am in your hands to abide it.

Bonner.

Well, you are so, come on your ways, you shall go in, and I will use you christian-like: you shall have meat and drink, such as I have in my house: but in any wise talk not.

Haukes.

I purpose to talk nothing but the word of God and truth.

Bonner.

I will have no heresy talked on in my house

Haukes.

Why, is the truth become heresy? God hath commanded that we should have none other talk in our houses, in our beds, at our meat, and by the way▪ but all truth.

Bonner.

If you will have my favour, be ruled by my counsel.

Haukes.

Then I trust you will grant me my re|quest.

Bonner.

What is that?

Haukes.

That your doctors and servants give me no occasion: for if they do, I will surely utter my conscience. Then he commanded his men to take in Baget, that Haukes and he might not have an opportunity to talk together. And so thus we departed, and went to dinner, and I dined at the steward's table.

AFTER dinner, his chaplains and his men began to talk with me. But, amongst others, there was one named Darbishire, principal of Broadgates in Oxford, and the bishop's kinsman, who said to me, that I was too curious: for you will have (said he) nothing but your little pretty God's book.

Haukes.

And is it not sufficient for my salvation?

Bonner.

Yes, it is sufficient for our salvation, but not for our instruction.

Haukes.

God send me the salvation, and you the instruction. And as we thus reasoned came the bishop, who said unto me; I gave you a com|mandment that you should not talk.

Haukes.

And I desired of you that your doctors and servants should give no occasion. Then we went into his orchard again, he and I and his doctors.

Bonner.

Would not you be contented, provided your child should be christened after the book that was set out by king Edward?

Haukes.

Yes, with a good will; it is the thing that I desire.

Bonner.

I thought so: you would have the same thing. The principle is in the name of the Father, the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, and in necessity it may serve.

Haukes.

Christ did use it without any such ne|cessity: and yet we lack the chiefest point.

Bonner.

What is that?

Haukes.

"Go teach all nations, baptizing them, &c."

Bonner.

Thou speakest that because I am no preacher.

Haukes.

I speak the text: I do not mean you. Then said all the doctors, and his men that were with him. He spake it of you, my lord

(with a great noise that they made)

.

Bonner.

Will you be content to tarry here, and your child shall be baptized, and you shall not know of it, so that you will agree to it?

Haukes.

If I would so have done, I needed not to have come to you: for I had the same counsel given before.

Bonner.

You seem to be a lusty young man; you will not give your head for the washing; you will stand in defence of it for the honour of your country. Do you think that the queen and I cannot command it to be done in spite of your teeth.

Haukes.

What the queen and you can do, I will not stand in it: but you get my consent never the sooner.

Bonner.

Well, you are a stubborn young man: I perceive I must work another way with you.

Haukes,

You are in the hands of God, and so am I.

Bonner.

Whatsoever you think, I will not have you speak such words unto me. And so we depart|ed until even-song time: and before even-song was begun, my lord called for me to come to him in the chapel, and said; Haukes, thou art a proper young man, and God hath done his part unto thee; I would be glad to do thee good. Thou knowest that I am thy pastor, and one that should answer for thee. If I would not teach thee well, I should answer for thy soul.

Haukes.

What I have said, I will stand to, God willing: there is no way to remove it.

Bonner.

Nay, nay, Haukes, thou shalt not be so wilful. Remember Christ bade two go into his vineyard; the one said he would, and went not; the other said he would not, and went.

Haukes.

The last went.

Bonner.

Do thou likewise, and I will talk friendly with thee; how sayest thou? It is in the sixth of St. John; "I am the bread of life, and the bread that I will give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world. And whosoever eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood, hath ever|lasting life. My flesh is very meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. And he that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood, dwelleth in me, and I in him." Do you believe this?

Haukes.

Yes, I must needs believe the scriptures.

Bonner.

Why, then, I trust that you be sound in the blessed sacrament.

Haukes.

I beseech your lordship to feel my conscience no farther then in that which I was accused in unto you.

Bonner.

Well, well, let us go unto even-song.

Haukes.

With that I turned my back to go out of the chapel.

Bonner.

Why will you not tarry even-song.

Haukes.

No, forsooth.

Bonner.

And why?

Haukes.

For I will not.

Bonner.

And why will you not?

Haukes.

Because I have no edifying thereby, for I understand no Latin.

Bonner.

Why, you may pray by yourself. What books have you?

Haukes.

I have the New Testament, the books of Solomon, and the Psalter.

Bonner.

Then I pray you tarry here, and pray you on your Psalter.

Haukes.

I will not pray in this place, nor in any such. Then said one of his chaplains, Let him go, my lord, and he shall be no partaker with us in our prayers.

Haukes.

I think myself best at ease when I am farthest from you, and so the bishop went to even-song, and I came down and walked between the hall and the chapel in the court, and tarried there till even-song was done; and within an hour after even-song was done, the bishop sent for me into his chamber where he lay himself, and when I came, there was he and three of his chaplains.

Bonner.

You know of the talk that was between you and me, as concerning the sacrament. You would not have your conscience sought any farther, than in that you were accused of.

Haukes.

I thought you would not be both mine accuser and judge.

Bonner.

Well, you shall answer me to the sa|crament of the altar, the sacrament of baptism, the sacrament of penance, and the sacrament of matri|mony.

Haukes.

There is none of these, but I dare speak my conscience in them.

Bonner.

In the sacrament of the altar you seem to be found in.

Haukes.

In the sacrament of the altar? why, sir, I do not know it.

Bonner.

Well, we will make you to know it, and believe in it too, before we have done with you.

Haukes.

No that shall ye never do.

Bonner.

Yes, a faggot will make you do it.

Haukes.

No, no, a fig for your faggot. What God thinketh meet to be done, that shall ye do, and more ye shall not do.

Bonner.

Do you not believe that there remaineth in the blessed sacrament of the altar, after the words of consecration be spoken, no more bread, but the very body and blood of Christ? And at that word he put off his cap.

Haukes.

I do believe as Christ hath taught me.

Bonner.

Why? did not Christ say, "Take, eat, this is my body?"

Haukes.

Christ said so: but therefore it follow|eth not, that the sacrament of the altar is so as you teach, neither did Christ ever teach it so to be.

Bonner.

Why? the catholic church taught it so, and they were of Christ's church.

Haukes.

How prove you it? The apostles never

taught it so. Read the Acts, the second and the twentieth. Neither St. Peter nor St. Paul ever taught it, nor instituted it so.

Bonner.

Ah sir, you will have no more than the scripture teacheth, but even as Christ hath left it bare.

Haukes.

He that teacheth me any otherwise, I will not believe him.

Bonner.

Why? then you must eat a lamb, if you will have but Christ's institution only.

Haukes.

Nay, that is not so, for before Christ did institute the sacrament, that ceremony ceased, and then began the sacrament.

Bonner.

Alas, you know not how it began, neither of the institution.

Haukes.

Then I would be glad to learn.

Bonner.

Marry, we will teach you; but you are so stubborn you will not learn.

Haukes.

Except you teach me by the word of God, I will never credit you, nor believe you: and thus we concluded. Then the bishop and his chaplains laughed and said; Jesu, Jesu, what a stubbornness and arrogantness is this? and this was in his chamber where he lay. Then said the bishop to me, Go you down and drink, for it is fasting day; it is midsummer eve, but I think you love neither fasting nor praying,

Haukes.

I will never deny either fasting or praying, so that it be done as it ought to be done, and without hypocrisy or vain glory.

Bonner.

I like you the better for that: and so we left for that night.

THE next day the bishop went to London: for Mr. Fecknam was made dean that day, and I tar|ried still at Fulham.

THEN did the bishop's men desire me to come to mass, but I utterly refused it, answering them as I did their master.

THE same night the bishop came home to Ful|ham again.

A CONVERSATION between Mr. HARPSFIELD and Mr. THOMAS HAUKES.

UPON Monday morning very early, the bish|op called for me. There was with him Mr. Harpsfield, archdeacon of London, to whom the bishop said, This is the man which I told you of, who would not have his child christened, nor will have any ceremonies.

Harpsfield.

Christ used ceremonies. Did he not take clay from the ground, and took spittle, and made the blind man to see?

Haukes.

That I well know, but Christ did ne|ver use it in baptism. If ye will needs have it, put it to the use that Christ put it unto.

Harps.

Admit your child die unchristened: what a heavy case you stand in!

Haukes.

I admit if it do, what then?

Harps.

Marry, then are you damned, and your child both.

Haukes.

Judge you no farther than you may by the scriptures.

Harps.

Do you not know that your child is born in original sin?

Haukes.

Yes, that I do.

Harps.

How is original sin washed away?

Haukes.

By true faith and belief in Christ Jesus.

Harps.

How can your child being an infant be|lieve?

Haukes.

The deliverance of it from sin standeth in the faith of his parents.

Harps.

How prove you that?

Haukes.

By St. Paul, 1 Cor. vii.14. "The

unbelieving man is sanctified by the believing wo|man, and the unbelieving woman is sanctified by the believing man, or else were your children un|clean."

Harps.

I will prove that they whom thou puttest thy trust in, will be against thee in this opinion.

Haukes.

Who are those?

Harps.

Your great learned men in Oxford.

Haukes.

If they do it by scriptures, I will be|lieve them,

Bonner.

Recant, recant: do you not know that Christ said, Except ye be baptized, ye cannot be saved?

Haukes.

Doth christianity consist in outward ceremonies, or no?

Bonner.

Partly it doth: what say you to that?

Haukes.

I say as St. Peter saith, "Not the washing of water purging the filthiness of the flesh, but a good conscience consenting unto God."

Harps.

Beware of pride, brother, beware of pride.

Haukes.

It is written, "Pride serveth not for men, nor yet the sons of men."

Bonner.

Let us make an end here. How say you to the mass, sirrah?

Haukes.

I say it is detestable, abominable, and unprofitable.

Bonner.

What nothing profitable in it? what say you to the epistle and gospel?

Haukes.

It is good if it be used as Christ left it to be used.

Bonner.

Well, I am glad that you somewhat recant: recant all, recant all.

Haukes.

I have recanted nothing, nor will do.

Bonner.

How say you to the Confiteor?

Haukes.

I say it is abominable and detestable, yea, and a blasphemy against God, and his Son Jesus Christ, to call upon any, to trust to any, or to pray to any, save only Christ Jesus.

Bonner.

To trust to any, we hid you not: but to call upon them, and to pray to them, we bid you. Do you not know, when you come into court, you cannot speak with the king and queen, unless you call to some of the privy chamber that are next to the king and queen.

Haukes.

They that list receive your doctrine. You teach me that I should not believe nor trust in any, but to call on them; and St. Paul saith, "How should I call upon him on whom I believe not?

Bonner.

Will you have no-body to pray for you when you be dead.

Haukes.

No surely, except you can prove it by the scriptures. Then the bishop pointed unto Harpsfield, and said unto me; Is it not well done to desire this man to pray for me?

Haukes.

Yes, surely, so long as we live, the pray|ers of the righteous man are available: but this man's prayers, you being dead, profit nothing at all.

Bonner.

Will you grant the prayer of the right|eous man to prevail?

Haukes.

I grant it doth for the living, but not for the dead.

Bonner.

Not for the dead?

Haukes.

No forsooth, for David saith, "No man can deliver his brother from death, nor make agreement with God for him: for it cost more to redeem their souls, so that ye must let that alone for ever."

ALSO Ezekiel saith, "Though Noah, Daniel, or Job dwelt among them, yet can they in their right|eousness exceed no farther than themselves." Then the bishop said to Harpsfield, Sir, you see this man hath no need of our lady, neither of any of the bles|sed s••ints. Well, I will trouble you no longer; I did call you, hoping that you should do some good on him, but it will not be. And he said to me, Sir, it is time to begin with you; we will rid you away, and then we shall have one heretic less.

Harps.

What books have you?

Haukes.

The New Testament, Solomon's books, and the Psalter.

Harps.

Will you read any other books?

Haukes.

Yes; Latimer's books, my lord of Canterbury's book, Bradford's sermons, and Rid|ley's books.

Bonner.

Away, away, he will have no books but such as maintain his heresies: so they departed, for Harpsfield was booted to ride unto Oxford, and I went to the porter's lodge again.

THE next day came thither an old bishop, who had a pearl in his eye, and he brought with him un|to my lord a dish of apples, and a bottle of wine. For he had lost his living because he had a wife. Then the bishop called me again into the orchard, and said to the old bishop. This young man hath a child, and w••ll not have it christened.

Haukes.

I deny not baptism.

Bonner.

Thou art a fool, thou can'st not tell what thou wouldst have. This he spake with much anger.

Haukes.

A bishop must be blameless or faultless, sober, discreet, no chider, nor given to anger.

Bonner.

Thou judgest me to be angry: no by my faith I am not, and struck himself upon the breast.

THEN said the old bishop, Alas good young man, you must be taught by the church, and by your elders, and do as your forefathers have done be|fore you.

Bonner.

No, no, he will have nothing but the scriptures, and God knows he doth not understand them. He will have no ceremonies in the church, no not one: what say you to holy water?

Haukes.

I say to it as to the rest, and to all that be of his making that made them.

Bonner.

Why, the scriptures do allow ••t?

Haukes.

Where prove you that?

Bonner.

In the book of kings where Elisha threw salt into the water.

Hauk••s.

You say truth, that it is written in 2 Kings, chap. ii. the children of the prophets came to Elisha, saying▪ "The dwelling of the city is pleasant, but the waters be corrupted." This was the cause that Elisha threw salt into the water, and it became sweet and good: and so when our waters be corrupted, if you can by putting in of salt make them sweet, clear, and wholesome, we will the bet|ter believe your ceremonies.

Bonner.

How say you to holy bread?

Haukes.

Even as I said to the other. What scripture have you to defend it?

Bonner.

Have you not read where Christ fed five thousand men with five loaves and three fishes.

Haukes.

Will ye make that holy bread? There Christ dealt fish with his holy bread.

Bonner.

Look, I pray you, how captious this man is.

Haukes.

Christ did not this miracle, or other, because we should do the like miracle, but because we should believe and credit his doctrine thereby.

Bonner.

We believe no doctrine, but that which is wrought by miracles.

Haukes.

No forsooth, for Christ saith, "These tokens shall follow them that believe in me: they shall speak with new tongues, they shall cast out devils, and if they drink any deadly poison, it shall not hurt them."

Bonner.

With what new tongues do ye speak?

Haukes.

Forsooth, where before that I came to the knowledge of God's word, I was a fo••l blasphemer and filthy talker▪ since I came to the knowledge thereof, I have lauded God, praised God, given thanks to God, even with the same tongue, and is not this a n••w tongue.

Bonner.

How do you cast out devils?

Haukes.

Christ did cast them out by his word, and he hath left the same word, that whosoever doth credit and believe it, shall cast out devils.

Bonner.

Did you ever drink any deadly poison?

Haukes.

Yea forsooth, that I have; for I have drank of the pestilential traditions and ceremonies of the bishop of Rome.

Bonner.

Now you shew yourself to be a right heretic?

Haukes.

I pray you, what is heresy?

Bonner.

All things that are contrary to God's word.

Haukes.

If I stand in any thing contrary thereto, then I am worthy to be so called.

Bonner.

Thou art one, and thou shalt be burned, if thou stand and continue in this opinion. You think we are afraid to put one of you to death; yes, yes▪ there is a brotherhood of you, but I will break it, I warrant you.

Haukes.

Where prove you that Christ or his apostles did kill any man for his faith?

Bonner.

Did not Paul excommunicate?

Haukes.

Yes, my lord; but there is a great dif|ference between excommunicating and burning.

Bonner.

Have you not read of the man and the woman in the acts of the apostles, whom Peter 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Haukes.

Yes forsooth, I have read of one Ana|••i••••, and Sapphira his wi••e, who were destroyed for lying against the Holy Ghost, which serveth nothing to your purpose.

Bonner.

Well, you will grant one yet.

Haukes.

Well, if you will have us to grant you be of God, then shew mercy unto us: for that God requi••eth.

Bonner.

We will shew such mercy unto you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ye shewed unto us: for my benefice or bishopri•• was taken away from me, so that I had not one penny to live upon.

Haukes.

I pray you, my lord, what do you give him now that was in the bishoprie or benefice before you came again to it? Whereunto he answered me never a word; for he turned his back upon me, and talked with other men, saying that he was very sorry for me, but he trusted that I would turn with St. Paul, because I was so earnest; and so he de|parted and went to dinner, and I to the porter's lodge again.

AFTER dinner I was called into the hall again, and the bishop desired the old bishop to take me into his chamber; for I would be glad said he▪ if you could convert him. So he took me into his chamber, and sat himself down in a chair, and said to me, I would to God I could do you some good you are a young man, and I would not wish you to go too far, but learn of your ••lders to bear some|what.

Haukes.

I will bea•• nothing that is contrary to the word of God. And I looked that the old bishop should have made me an answer, but he was fast asleep.

THEN I departed out of the chamber alone, and

went to the porter's lodge again, and there I saw the old bishop last: I suppose he is not yet awake.

THE next day Dr. Fecknam came to me and said, Are you he that will have no ceremonies?

Haukes.

What mean you by that?

Fecknam.

You will not have your child christen|ed, but in English, and you no ceremonies.

Haukes.

Whatsoever the scripture commandeth to be done, I refuse not.

Fecknam.

Ceremonies are to be used by the scriptures.

Haukes.

Which be those?

Fecknam.

How say you by Paul's breeches?

Haukes.

I have read no such thing.

Fecknam.

Have you not read in the Acts of the apostles, how things went from Paul's body, and they received health thereby?

Haukes.

I have read in the 19th ch. of the Acts, how there went handkerchiefs and napkins from Paul's body▪ is it that you mean?

Fecknam.

Yes, the same it is: what say you to those ceremonies?

Haukes.

I say nothing to the ceremonies: for the text saith, that God did so wo••k by the hands of Paul, that there went handkerchiefs and napkins from him, &c. So that it seemed by the text, that it was God that wrought, and not the ceremonies.

Fecknam

How say you to the woman that came behind Christ, and touched the hem of his ves+tur••? Did not her disease depart from her by that ceremony?

Haukes.

No forsooth▪ for Christ turned back and said to Peter, "Who is it that touched me?" And Peter said, "Thou seest the people thrust thee; and askest thou, who touched me••" "Some body hath touched me, said Christ, for virtue hath gone gone out of me:" I pray you, whether was it the virtue that healed this woman, or his vesture?

Fecknam.

Both.

Haukes.

Then is not Christ true: for he said, "Go thy way, thy faith ha••h made thee whole."

Bonner.

Away, away to the sacrament, for these are but mere trifles to that.

Fecknam.

How say you, sirrah? Christ took bread, and brake it, and said, "Take, eat, this is my body."

Haukes.

I grant Christ said so.

Fecknam.

And is it not so?

Haukes.

No forsooth, I do not underdand it so.

Fecknam.

Why, then, is Christ a liar?

Haukes.

I think you will so prove him.

Fecknam.

Will I? why, I have spoken the words that Christ spake.

Haukes.

Is every word to be understood as Christ spake it? Christ said, I am a door, a vine, I am a king, a way, &c.

Fecknam.

Christ spake these words in parable••.

Haukes.

And why speaketh he this in parables when he said, I am a door, a vine, a king, a way, &c. more than when he said. This is my body? For after the same phrase of speech, as he saith, This is my body; so saith he, I am a door, a vine, a king, a way; he saith not, I am like a door, like a vine, &c.

THEN Fecknam stood up, and said, I had such a one before me the other day. Alas! those places serve nothing for your purposes. But I perceive you hang and build on them that be at Oxford.

Haukes.

What mean you by that?

Fecknam.

I mean Latimer, Cranmer, and Ridley.

Haukes.

I know nothing else by them, but that they be both godly and learned.

Fecknam.

Wilt thou trust to such dolts? One of them hath written a book wherein he affirmeth a real presence in the sacrament.

Haukes.

What he hath done I know not, but what he doth I know.

Fecknam.

Ridley hath preached at Paul's Cross openly, that the devil believeth better than you: for he believeth that Christ is able of stones to make bread, and you will not believe Christ's body in the sacrament, and yet thou buildest thy faith upon them.

Haukes.

I build my faith upon no man, and that ye well know; for if those men, and as many more as they be, should recant and deny what they have said or done, yet will I stand to it, and by this ye shall know that I build my faith upon no man.

Bonner.

If any of those recant, what will you say to it?

Haukes.

When they recant, I will make you an answer.

Bonner.

Then thou wilt say as thou dost now for all that?

Haukes.

Yes indeed, will I, and that trust to it by God's grace.

Bonner.

I dare say, Cranmer would recant, so that he might have his living. And so the bishop and Fecknam departed from me with great laugh|ing, and I went again to the porter's lodge.

THE next day Dr. Chedsey came to the bishop and him. They declared unto him that I had stood stubbornly in the defence against the christening of my child, and against the ceremonies of the church, and that I would not have it christened but in English.

THEN said Dr. Chedsey, he denies the order of the catholic church.

Bonner.

Yes, he thinketh there is no church, but in England and Germany.

Haukes.

And you think that there is no church, but the church of Rome.

Ched.

What say you to the church of Rome?

Haukes.

I say it is a church of a sort of vicious cardinals, priests, monks, and friars, which I will never credi••, nor believe.

Ched.

What say you to the bishop of Rome?

Haukes.

From him and all his detestable enor|mities, good Lord deliver us.

Ched.

Marry, so may we say, From king Hen|ry VIII. and all his detestable enormities, good Lord deliver us.

Haukes.

Where were you while he lived, that you would not say so?

Ched.

I was not far.

Haukes.

Where were you in his son's days?

Ched.

In prison.

Haukes.

It was not for your well doing.

Bonner.

He will by no means come within my chapel, nor hear mass: for neither the mass, nor the sacrament of the altar can he abide, neither will he have any service but in English.

Ched.

Christ never spake in English.

Haukes.

Neither did he ever speak any Latin, but always in such tongue as the people might be edified thereby. And St. Paul saith, "That tongues profit us nothing." He maketh a similitude be|tween the pipe and the harp, and except it be un|derstood what the trumpet meaneth, who can pre|pare himself to the battle? So if I hear a tongue that I do not understand, what profit have I thereby? no more than he hath by the trumpet, that know|eth not what it meaneth.

Ched.

If you understand St. Paul's saying, he

speaketh of it under a prophecy, "If one prophesy to you in tongues," &c.

Haukes.

Forsooth St. Paul speaketh plainly of tongues: for tongues serve not for them that be|lieve.

Ched.

I tell you St. Paul speaketh altogether upon prophecy.

Haukes.

St. Paul maketh a distinction between prophesying and tongues, saying, "That if any man speak with tongues, let it be by two or three at the most, and let another interpret it. But if there be no interpreter, let them keep silence in the congregation, and let himself pray unto God: and then let the prophet speak two or three, and that by course, and let the other judge: and if any re|velation be made to him that sitteth by, let the first hold his peace:" so that it seemeth that St. Paul maketh a distiction between tongues and prophe|sying.

Bonner.

The order was taken in the catholic church that the Latin tongue should serve through the whole world, because that they should pray all generally together in one tongue, and that to avoid all contention and strife, and to have one universal order through the whole world.

Haukes.

This did your councils of Rome con|clude.

Bonner.

Understand ye what the general councils of Rome mean?

Haukes.

Indeed all your general councils of Rome be in Latin, and I am an Englishman; therefore I have nothing to do with them.

Ched.

You are to blame, being an unlearned man, to reprove all the councils throughout all the world.

Haukes.

I reprove them not, but St. Paul rebu|keth them, saying, "If any man preach any other doctrine than that which I have taught, do you hold him accursed."

Ched.

Hath any man preached any other doc|trine unto you.

Haukes.

Yes, I have been taught another gospel since I came into this house.

Ched.

What gospel have you been taught?

Haukes.

Praying to saints, and to our lady, and trusting in the mass, holy bread, holy water, and in idols.

Ched.

He that teaches you so, teaches you not amiss.

Haukes.

Cursed be he that teacheth me so: for I will not trust him, nor believe him.

Bonner.

You speak of idols, and you know not what they mean.

Haukes.

God hath taught us what they be: for whatsoever is made graven, or devised by man's hand, contrary to God's word, the same is an idol. What say you to that?

Ched.

What be those that you are so offended withal?

Haukes.

The cross of wood, silver, copper, or gold, &c.

Bonner.

What say you to that?

Haukes.

I say it is an idol. What say you to it?

Bonner.

I say, every idol is an image, but every image is not an idol.

Haukes.

I say, what difference is there between an idol and an image?

Bonner.

If it be a false god, and an image made of him, that is an idol: but if an image be made of God himself, it is no idol but an image, because he is a true God.

Haukes.

Lay your image of a true God and of your false god together, and you shall see no diffe|rence. Have not your images feet, and go not; eyes and see not; ears and hear not; hands and feel not; mouths and speak not? and even so have your idols.

Ched.

"God forbid, saith St. Paul, that I should

rejoice in any thing else, but in the cross of Christ Jesus."

Haukes.

Do you understand St. Paul so? Do you understand St. Paul? Unto which he answer|ed nothing.

Bonner.

Where can we have a godlier remem|brance when we ride by the way, than to see the cross?

Haukes.

If the cross was such a profit unto us, why did not Christ's disciples take it up, and set it on a pole, and carry it in procession?

Ched.

It was taken up.

Haukes.

Who took it up? Helene, as you say; for she sent a piece of it to a place of religion, where I was with the visitors when that house was sup|pressed, and the piece of the holy cross (which the religious had in such estimation, and had robbed many a soul, committing idolatry to it) was called for, and when it was proved, and all came to all, it was but a piece of a lath covered over with copper, double gilded, as it had been clean gold.

Bonner.

Fie, fie, I dare say thou slanderest it.

Haukes.

I know it to be true, and do not believe the contrary. And thus did the bishop and the doctor depart in a great fume; and Chedsey said unto me, as he was about to depart, It is a pity thou should live, or any such as thou art. I answered, In this case I desire not to live, but rather to die.

Ched.

You die boldly, because you would glory in your death, as Joan Butcher did.

Haukes.

What Joan Butcher did, I have nothing to do withal▪ but I would my part might be to morrow. God make you in a better mind▪ said they both, and so they depart••d, and I went to the porter's lodge ••ith my keeper.

THE next day Dr. Chedsey preached in the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 chapel, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not 〈…〉〈…〉 was done: and then came the p••rter for me, and said, My lord would have you come to the ser+mon, and so I went to the chapel door, and stood without the door.

Bonner.

Is not this fellow come?

Haukes.

Yes, I am here.

Bonner.

Come in, man.

Haukes.

No, that I will not. He called again, and I answered, I will come no nearer, and so I stood at the door. Then said the bishop, Go to your sermon.

THEN Dr. Chedsey put the stole about his neck, and carried the holy water-sprinkle unto the bishop, who blessed him and gave him holy water, and so he went to his sermon.

THE text that he treated on was the 16th of St. Matthew, "Whom do men say that I the Son of Man am? Peter said, Some say that thou art Elias, some say that thou art John the Baptist, some say thou art one of the prophets. But whom say ye that I am? Then said Peter, Thou art Christ the Son of the living God." Then he left the text there, and said, Whose sins soever ye bind, are bound: which authority said he is l••ft to the heads of the church, as my lord here is one, and so unto all the rest that be underneath him. But the church hath been much kicked at since the beginning: yet kick the heretics, spurn the 〈…〉〈…〉 much, the church doth 〈…〉〈…〉 went straitway to 〈…〉〈…〉 mind on it, 〈…〉〈…〉 of them do•• and so returned to 〈…〉〈…〉 saying. Whose sins ye do 〈…〉〈…〉 and forgiven: and so he applied it to the ••ishops and priests to forgive sins, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 said, All that he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the church will come and rec••ive the same. And this he proved by St. John. chap. xi. saying th•••• Christ came to raise La|••a••us, who when he was 〈…〉〈…〉 in ••ands 〈◊〉〈◊〉 said Christ to them that were in authority▪ (who were his discip••••s) Go ye and loose him, let him go. And this was the ••ffect of his sermon▪ app••ying all to them, that they have the same a•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 city that Christ spake of to his apostles•• and ••o 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his sermon and they went to dinner.

Another CONVERSATION between THOMAS HAUKES, Bishop BONNER, and others.

AFTER dinner I was called into the chapel, where were several of the queen's servants, and other strangers whom I did not know.

Bonner

Haukes, How like you the sermon?

Haukes.

As I like all the rest of his doctrine.

Bonner.

What, are you not edified thereby?

Haukes.

No, surely,

Bonner.

It was made only because of you.

Haukes.

Why? then am I sorry that you had no more heretics here, as you call them: I am sorry that you have bestowed so much labour on one, and so little regarded.

Bonner.

Well, I will leave you here, for I have business, I pray you talk with him: for if you could do him good, said he, I would be glad.

THIS the bishop spake to the queen's men, who said unto me, Alas! what mean you to trouble yourself about such matters against the queen's proceedings?

Haukes.

Those matters have I answered before them that be in authority: and unless I see you have a further commission, I will answer you no|thing at all. Then said the bishop's men, (which were many) My lord hath commanded you to talk with us.

Haukes.

If my lord will talk with me himself, I will answer him. They cried, Faggots, burn him, hang him, to prison with him, it is a pity that he liveth, lay irons upon him; and with a great noise they spake these words. Then in the midst of all their rage I departed from them, and went to the porter's lodge again.

THE next day the bishop called me into his cham|ber, and said, You have been with me a great while, and you are never the better, but worse and worse: and therefore I will delay the time no longer, but send you to New gate.

Haukes.

My lord, you can do me no better pleasure.

Bonner.

Why would you so fain go to prison?

Haukes.

Truly I did look for none other when I came to your hands.

Bonner.

Come on your ways, you shall see what I have written. Then did he shew me certain arti|cles, and these are the contents of them:

WHETHER the catholic church do teach and believe, that Christ's real presence doth remain in the sacrament or no, after the words of consecration, according to the words of St. Paul, which are these; "Is not the bread which we break the partaking of the body of Christ, and the cup which we bless, the partaking of the blood of Christ?" which if it were not so, St. Paul would never have said it.

Haukes.

What your church doth, I cannot tell: but I am sure that the holy catholic church doth never so take it, nor believe it.

Bonner.

Whether doth the catholic church teach and believe the baptism that now is used in the church, or no?

Haukes.

I answered to it as I did to the other question before. Then did the bishop with much s••attery counsel me to be persuaded, and to keep me out of prison, which I utterly refused, and so we departed. And I supposed that the next day I should have gone to prison, and so I had, except for the archdeacon of Canterbury, whose name is Harps|field, whom the bishop had desired to talk with me, and began to persuade me concerning the sacrament and the ceremonies: and after much talk he said, that the sacrament of the altar was the same body that was born of the virgin Mary, which did hang upon the cross.

Haukes.

He was upon the cross both alive and dead: which of them was the sacrament?

Harps.

The archdeacon answered, alive.

Haukes.

How do you prove that?

Harps.

You must believe. Doth not St. John say, "He is condemned already that believeth not?"

Haukes.

St. John saith, "He that believeth not in the Son of God, is already condemned," but he saith not, He that believeth not in the sacra|ment, is already condemned.

Harps.

There is no talking with you: for you are both without faith and learning, and therefore I will talk no more with you from scripture.

Haukes.

Then two that stood by bade me enter further into talk with him; and I said unto him, Why is the rood-loft set betwixt the body of the church and the chancel?

Harps.

I cannot tell: for you have asked a question which you cannot answer yourself.

Haukes.

Yes, that I can: for this saith one of your own doctors, That the body of the church doth represent the church militant, and the chancel the church triumphant: and so because we cannot go from the church militant to the church trium|phant, but that we must bear the cross of Christ; this is the cause of the rood-loft being between the body of the church and the chancel.

Harps.

This is well and learnedly concluded.

Haukes.

As all the rest of your doctrine is; and so with many persuasions on his part we ended, and so departed: and I to the porter's lodge again.

THE next day in the morning, which was the 1st of July, the bishop called me himself from the por|ter's lodge, commanding me to make myself ready to go to prison, and to take such things with me as I had of my own. And I said, I do neither intend to bribe, neither to steal, God willing. Then he did write my warrant to the keeper of the Gate|house at Westminster, and delivered it to Harps|field, who with his own man and one of the bishop's men brought me to prison, and delivered the war|rant and me to the keeper: and this was contained in the warrant:

"I will and command you, that you receive him who cometh named in this warrant, and that he be kept as a safe prisoner, and that no man speak with him, and t••at you deliver him to no man, except it be the council, or to a justice: for he is a sacra|mentary, and one that speaketh against baptism, a seditious man, a perilous man to be abroad in these perilous days." And thus was I received, and they departed. And there I remained thirteen days, and then the bishop sent two of his men unto me, saying, My lord would be glad to know how you do. I answered them, I do like a poor prisoner. They said, My lord would know, whether you be the same man that you were when you departed. I said, I am no changeling. They said, My lord would be glad that you should do well. I said, if my lord will do me any good, I pray you desire him to suffer my friends to come to me. So they said they would speak for me, but I heard no more of them.

THIS is the first examination of me Thomas Haukes, being examined by Edmund Bonner, then bishop of London, and by his chaplains and doctors at Fulham, four miles from London, where I lay, till I came to prison at Westminster: and after his two men had been with me, I heard no more of him till the 3d of September.

HERE followeth the second examination, which was on the third of Sepember, for the bishop sent his men for me to come to his palace of London; and so my keeper and his men brought me to his palace the same day.

Second Examination of Mr. THOMAS HAUKES.

THE bishop of Winchester, then being chan|cellor, preached that day at Paul's-Cross, and the bishop of London said to my keeper, I think your man will not go to the sermon to-day.

Haukes.

Yes, my lord, I pray you let me go: and that which is good I will receive, and the rest I will leave behind me; and so I went. And when the sermon was done, I and my keeper came to the bishop's house, and there we remained till dinner was done: and after dinner the bishop called for me, and asked me if I was the same man that I was before.

Haukes.

I am no changeling, nor none will be.

Bonner.

You shall find me no changeling nei|ther. And so he returned into his chamber, and there he did write the side of a sheet of paper, and all that while I stood in the great chamber, and as many with me as might well stand in the chamber. And as I stood there, Dr. Smith came unto me, (who once recanted as it appeared in print) saying, he would be glad to talk brotherly with me. I asked him what he was? Then said they that stood by, he is Dr. Smith. Then said I, Are you he that did recant? And he said, It was no recantation, but a declaration.

Haukes.

You were best to term it well for your own honesty.

Smith.

Shall I term it as it pleaseth you?

Haukes.

To be short with you, I will know whether you will recant any more or no, before that I talk with you, credit you, or believe you: and so I departed from him to the other side of the chamber. Then said the bishop's men and his chaplains, that my lord commanded me to talk with him. Then they that stood by, cried with a great noise, Hang him, burn him; it is a pity that he lives, that disobeys my lord's command|ment.

THEN said one Miles Huggard, Where prove you that infants were baptized?

Haukes.

"Go teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." Sir here is none excepted.

Mr. Huggard.

What shall we go to teach chil|dren?

Haukes.

That word doth trouble you; it might ••e left out full well: it is too much for you to teach. Is not your name Miles Huggard?

Mr. Hug.

So I am called.

Haukes.

Be you not a hosier, and dwell in Pudding-lane?

Mr. Hug.

Yes that I am, and there I do dwell.

Haukes.

It should seem so, for you have more skill in eating pudding, and selling stockings, than in disputing from the scriptures. With that he was in a great rage, and chafed up and down. Then I desired that some person would take pains to appease the gentleman, he did so fret for anger. Then one that stood by me (who was parson of Horn-church and Rumford in Essex) said, Alas, what do you mean? a young man to be so stub|born? there seemeth too much pride in you.

Haukes.

Are you not the parson of Horn-church?

Parson.

Yes, that I am.

Haukes.

Did you not set such a priest in your benefice?

Parson.

Yes, for a shift.

Haukes.

Like master, like man. For I know the priest to be as vile a man as can be. I asked the parson, what kin he was to the weather-cock of St. Paul's? and he fell into a great laughter with the rest of his companions. He said I did rail.

THEN said another that stood by unto me, What books have you here? I answered, the New Test|ament. May I look in it, said he? Yes, that you may, said I; and so he looked into my book, and said it was corrupt. I answered him, if the things contained in it be true, then ye are false prophets. He said that he would oppose me in the first word of the Testament, saying, Here is the gene|ration of Christ; and Isaiah saith, no man can tell his generation.

Haukes.

What meaneth Isaiah by that?

I would learn of you, said he,

Haukes.

You would be angry if the scholar should teach the master: but if you will have me to teach you, I will tell you Isaiah's meaning.

THEN said he, No man can tell the generation between the Father and the Son: but you (I dare say) did know it before.

Haukes.

Isaiah denieth not the generation.

THEN said he, why is Christ called Christ?

Haukes.

Because he is the Messiah.

THEN said he, Why is he called the Messiah?

Haukes.

Because he was so prophesied by the prophets.

THEN said he, Why is your book called a book?

Haukes.

These words do breed more strife than godly edifying.

BEWARE, said he, that you do not decline from the church, for if you do, you will prove yourself an heretic.

Haukes.

Even as you do call us heretics, that do incline to Christ's church from your church; so are ye all false prophets that do decline from Christ's church to your own church. And by this shall all men know you to be false prophets, if ye say, This saith the church: and will not say, This saith our Lord. And so he went away as though he had a flea in his ear.

THEN came another, and said unto me, he would talk with me; for he perceived (as he said) that I was angry, and out of patience.

Haukes.

I will see your commission, before I talk with you, or with any more. For I knew not how to be rid of them, they came so thick about me. And I said, I came to talk with my lord, and not with any of them.

WITH that came the bishop, bringing a letter in his hand, which he had written in my name, and read it unto me, after this manner: I Thomas Haukes, do here confess and declare before my said ordinary Edmund, bishop of London, that the mass is abominable and detestable, and full of all superstition▪ and also as concerning the sacrament of the body and blood of Christ (commonly called the sacrament of the altar) that Christ is in no part thereof, but only in heaven: this I have believed, and this I do believe, &c.

Haukes.

Stop there, my lord: what I have believed, what have you to do withal? But what I do believe, to that stand I, and will. Then he took his pen, and said that he would scrape it out for my pleasure, and so he did to my thinking.

THEN he went further with his writing, and said, I Thomas Haukes have talked with my said ordi|nary, and with certain good, godly, and learned men. Notwithstanding I stand still in mine opi|nion.

Haukes.

Shall I grant you to be good, godly, and learned men, and yet grant myself to stand in a contrary opinion? No, I will not grant you to be good, godly, and learned men.

Bonner.

You will grant that you have talked with us: the other I will put out for your pleasure. Then said all his doctors, If your lordship be ruled by him, he will cause you to put all together: and then read more to me. Here unto this bill have I set my hand; and then he offered me the bill and his pen, and bade me set my hand to it.

Haukes.

You shall not have my hand to any thing of your making or devising.

Bonner.

Wilt thou not set to thy hand? It shall be to thy shame for the denying it.

AND then he called all his doctors, and said, he would have every man's hand to it that was in the chamber; and so he had all their hands to it, and said, He that will not set his hand to it, I would ••e were hanged; and so said all his chaplains with a great noise.

THEN the bishop thrust me on the breast with great anger; and said he would be even with me, and with all such proud knaves in Essex.

Haukes.

You shall do no more than God shall give you leave.

Bonner.

This jeer shall not be unpunished, trust to it.

Haukes.

As for your cursing, railings, and blasphemings, I care not for them: for I know the moths and worms shall eat you, as they eat cloth or wool.

Bonner.

I will be even with you at a future time.

Haueks.

You may in your malice destroy a man: but when you have done, you cannot do so much as make a singer; and you be meetly even with some of us alre••dy

Bonner.

If I do thee any wrong, take the law of me.

Haukes.

Solomon saith, "Go not to law with a judge; for he will judge according to his honour."

Bonner.

Solomon saith, "Give not a fool an answer."

Haukes.

What, do you count me a fool?

Bonner.

Yea, by my troth do I, and so dost thou me too: but God forgive thee, and so do I.

Haukes.

Thought is free, my lord. Then the bishop took the bill and read it again; and when he saw that he could not have my hand to it, then he would have had me to take it into my hand, and to give it him again.

Haukes.

What needeth that ceremony? neither shall it come into my hand, heart, or mind. Then he wrapt it up, and put it in his bosom, and went away in great anger, and called for his horse, for the s••me day he rode on his visitation into Essex: and so I went to prison again with my keeper. This was the second time of my examination.

WRITTEN by me Thomas Haukes, who desi|••eth all faithful men and brethren to pray unto God, to stre••••then me in his truth unto the end. Pray, pray, pray gentle brethren, pray,

〈…〉〈…〉 all these private conferences, persuasions, and long debates with Mr. Haukes in the bishop's house, as hitherto hath been declared, the bishop seeing no hope to win him to his wicked ways, was determined to proceed openly against him after the ordinary course of his popish law. Whereupon Mr. Haukes was shortly after cited with the rest of his other companions above-mentioned, namely, T. Tomkins, S. Knight, W. Pygot, J. Law|rence, and W. Hunter, to appear in the bishop's consistory, the eighth day of February, 1555. Upon which appearance was laid against him, in like order as to the others, first the bill of his con|fession, written with Bonner's own hand, to which bill you heard before how this worthy man refused to subscribe.

THIS bill of confession being read, and he stand|ing stedfastly to the same, the bishop then assigned him with the other five the next day following, which was the 9th of February; to appear before him again, to give a resolute answer what they would stick to. Which day being come, and the aforesaid six prisoners being severally called before the bishop, at the coming of Thomas Haukes, the bishop desired him to remember what was said to him yesterday; and now while he had time and space, to advise with himself what he would answer, for he stood upon life and death. Well, said Mr. Haukes again, I will willingly receive whatsoever shall be put upon me. Then certain interrogatories or articles were commenced against him by the said bishop, (in like manner as to the others) to the number of four, with another bill also which bishop Bonner brought out of his bosom, containing pri|vate matters against the said Thomas Haukes, which the bishop called heresies and errors, but we may better call them christian verities. The which matter being read, the said Haukes answered open|ly again, saying that it was true, and that he was glad it was so true as it was, with more words to the like effect. And this was in the forenoon, the 11th day of February. In the afternoon again, the said Haukes appearing and hearing the aforesaid bill of his confession, with the articles and interrogatories read unto him, with like constancy in answering again to the bishop; My lord (saith he) as you being my friend have caused these my sayings to be written; so do you cause them to be read: and yet I will

never go from them. And then being exhorted by the bishop, with many fair words, to return again to the bosom of the mother church: No, my lord, (said he) that will I not: for if I had an hundred bodies, I would suffer them all to be torn in pieces rather than I will abjure or recant. And so continuing still in the same song; notwithstand|ing that the doctors and lawyers were ever calling upon him to come again to the unity of the church, he ever kept them off with this answer, that he would never go from the belief he was in, so long as he lived. Whereupon bishop Bonner at last read the sentence of death upon him, and so was he condemned the same day with the residue of his fel|lows, which was the 9th of February. Nevertheless his execution was prolonged, and he remained in pri|son till the 10th day of June. Then was he commit|ted to the hands and charge of the lord Rich, who being sufficiently assisted with power by the wo••••••ip|ful of the shire, had the aforesaid Thomas Haukes down into Essex, with six other fellow prisoners whose stories hereafter follow, there to suffer mar|tyrdom, Haukes at Coxchall, the others in several other places.

THOMAS HAUKES by the way used much exhort|ation to his friends, and whensoever opportunity served to talk with them, he would familiarly admonish them.

A little before his death, there were several of his familiar acquaintance and friends, who frequent|ed his company more familiarly, and seemed to be greatly confirmed both by the example of his constancy, and by his talk; yet notwithstanding, being terrified by the sharpness of the punishment which he was going to suffer, privately desired that in the midst of the flame he would shew them some token, if he could, whereby they might be more certain, whether the pain of such burning were so great, that a man might not therein keep his mind quiet and patient. Which thing he promised them to do; and so secretly between them it was agreed, that if the rage of the pain were tolerable and might be suffered, then he should lift up his hands above his head towards heaven, before he gave up the ghost.

NOT long after, when the hour was come, Mr. Haukes was led away to the place appointed for the slaughter, by the lord Rich and his assistants, who being now come to the stake, there mildly and patiently prepared himself for the fire, having a strait chain cast about his middle, with a multitude of people on every side compassing him about. Unto whom after he had spoken many things, especially unto the lord Rich, reasoning with him of the innocent blood of saints, at length, after his fervent prayers first made and poured unto God, the fire was kindled.

IN which when he continued long, and when his speech was taken away by violence of the flame, his skin also drawn together, and his fingers consumed with the fire, so that now all men thought certainly he had been gone, suddenly and contrary to all expectation this good man being mindful of his promise before made, reached up his hands burn|ing on a light fire, which was marvellous to behold, over his head to the living God, and with great rejoicing, as it seemed, struck or clapped them three times together. At the sight whereof there followed such applause and out-cry of the people, and especially of them which understood the matter, that the like hath not commonly been heard: and so the blessed martyr of Christ, straitway sinking down into the fire, gave up his spirit, June 10, 1555. And thus have we plainly and expressly described unto you the whole story, as well of the life, as of the death of Mr. Haukes, a most con|stant and faithful witness of Christ's holy gospel.

LETTER I. From Mr. THOMAS HAUKES to the CONGREGATION.

GRACE, mercy, and peace, from God the Father, and from our Lord Jesus Christ, be always with you all (my dear brethren and sisters in the Lord Jesus Christ) for ever; and his Holy Spirit conduct and lead you all in all your doings, that you may always direct your deeds according to his holy word; that when he shall appear to reward every man according to their works, you may, as obedient children, be found watching, ready to enter into his everlasting kingdom, with your lamps burning; and when the bridegroom shall shew himself, you need not be ashamed of this life which God hath lent you, which is but transitory, vain, and like unto a vap••••r, that for a season appeareth and vanisheth away: so soon p••ss••th away all our ••errestrial honour, glory, and feli••ity "For all flesh (saith

the prophet) is grass, and all his glory as the flower of the field, which for a season sheweth her beauty, and as soon as the Lord bloweth upon it, it withereth away, and depart|eth." For in this transitory and dangerous wilderness; we are as pilgrims and strangers following the footsteps of Moses, among many unspeakable dangers, beholding nothing with our outward man, but idle vanities and vex|ation of mind, subject to hunger, cold, nakedness, bonds, sickness, loss, labours, banishment, in danger of that dread|ful dragon, and his sinful seed, to be devoured, tempted, and tormented, who ceaseth not behind every bush to lay a bait when we walk awry, to have his pleasure upon us; casting abroad his apples in all places, times, and seasons, to see 'Adam will be allured and enticed to leave the living God and his most holy commandments, whereby he is as|sured of everlasting life, promising the world at will, to all that will fall down in all ages, and for a mess of pottage sell and set at naught the everlasting kingdom of heaven. So frail is flesh and blood; "And in especial Israel is most ready to walk awry, when he is filled with all manner of riches," as saith the prophet.

THEREFORE I am bold in bonds (as intirely desiring your everlasting health and felicity) to warn you, and most heartily desire you to watch and pray: for our state is dan|gerous, and requireth continual prayer. For on the high mountains doth not grow most plenty of grass, neither are the highest trees farthest from danger, but seldom sure, and always shaken by every wind that bloweth. Such a deceit|ful thing (saith our Saviour) is honour and riches, that without grace it choketh up the good seed sown on his creatures, and so blindeth their eyes, that they go groping at noon-day in darkness: it maketh a man think himself somewhat that is nothing at all. For though for our honour we esteem oursel••es and stand in our own light, yet when we shall stand before the living God, there shall be no respect of person••. For riches help not in the day of ven|geance: ne••ther can we make the Lord partial for money. But as ye have ministered un••o the saints, so shall you recei••e the reward, which I am fully persuaded and assured shall be plenteously poured upon you all, f••r the great good|ness shewed unto the s••rvants of the living God. And I most heartily b••seech Almighty God to pour ••orth a plen|teous reward upon you for the same, and that he will assist you with his Holy Spirit in all your doings, that you may grow as you have begun, unto such a perf••ction as may be to God's honour, your own salvation, and the strength|ening the weak members of Christ. For though the world rage, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of God, you know that it did so unto 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ his apostles, and to all that were in the primitive ch••••••h, and shall be unto the world's end.

THEREFORE b••li••ve in the light while you have it, l••st it be taken away from you; if you shall seem to neglect the great m••rcy of God th•••• hath been opened unto you, and your h••arts consented unto it, that it is the very and and only truth pronounced by God's only Son Jesus Christ, by the good will of our heavenly Father. Therefore I say in the bowels of my Lord Jesus Christ, stick fast unto it; let it never depart out of our hearts and conversation, that you with us and we with you at the great day, being one flock, as we have one shepherd, may rise to life im|mortal, through Jesus Christ our only Saviour. Amen.

Your's in him that liveth forever, THOMAS HAUKES.

LETTER II. From Mr. HAUKES to his WIFE.

GRACE be with you, and peace from God the Father, and from our Lord Jesus Christ, which gave himself for our sins, to deliver us from this present evil world, thro' the good will of God our Father, to whom be praise for ever and ever, Amen.

MY dear yoke-fellow in the Lord, forasmuch as the Lord hath not only called me to work in his vineyard, but hath also fulfilled his good work in me, (I trust to his glory, and to the comfort of all those that look for his coming) I thought it my duty, dear yoke-fellow, to write unto you some lessons out of God's book: and if you will direct yourself thereafter, doubt not of it but God, who refuseth none that will come to him with their whole heart, will assist you with his Holy Spirit, and direct you in all his ways, to his honour and glory, who grant it for his mercy's sake. Amen.

FIRST, I exhort you to fear God, to serve and honour his holy name, to love him with all your heart, soul, and mind, to believe faithfully all his promises to lay sure hold upon them, that in all your troubles, whatsoever they are, you may run strait to the great mercy of God, and he will bring you out of them. Keep you within his wings; then shall you be sure that neither the devil, flesh, nor hell shall be able to hurt you.

BUT take heed; if you will not keep his holy precepts and laws, and to the uttermost of your power call for the help of God to walk in the same, but will leave them, and ran to all abominations with the wicked world, and do as they do; then be sure to have your part with the wicked world in the burning lake that shall never be quenched. Therefore beware of idolatry, which doth most of all stink before the face of Almighty God, and was by all good men most detested from the beginning of the world. For which, what kingdoms, nations, and realms God hath punished with most terrible plauges, with fire, brimstone, hunger, sword and pestilence, &c. to the utter subversion of them, is manifestly to be seen through the whole Bible. Y••••, his own peculiar people, whom he had done so much for, when

they fell from him, and went and served other gods, con|trary to his commandment, he utterly destroyed and rooted them out from off the earth: and as many as died in that damnable state, not repenting their abominable evil, he threw them into the pit of hell. Again, how he hath pre|served those that abhor superstition and idolatry, and that have only taken hold upon them with their whole heart, to serve him, to love him, and to fear him, &c. is most mani|festly to be seen even ••••om the beginning, out of what great dangers he hath always delivered them: yea when all hope of deliverance was past, as touching their expectation, even then in the sight of all his enemies would he work his godly will and purpose, to the utter destruction of all those that were his manifest enemies.

FURTHER, I exhort you in the bowels of Christ that you will exercise and be stedfast in prayer; for prayer is the only means to pierce the heavens, to obtain at the hand of God whatsoever we desire, so that it be asked in faith. Oh what notable things do we read in the scriptures that have been obtained through fervent prayer? We are com|manded to call upon him for help, aid, and succour in ne|cessities and troubles; and he hath promised to help us. Again, they that will not call upon him with their whole heart, but upon other dead creatures, in whom there is no help, (for there was none found worthy to open the book, but only the Lamb Christ which was killed for our sins) I say, they that will refuse his help, must even by the terri|ble judgments of God come utterly to confusion: as it hath, and is daily manifest to be seen. And whatsoever you de|sire of God in your prayer, ask it for Jesus Christ's sake, for whom and in whom, God hath promised to give us all things necessary. And though that which we ask come not at the first and second calling, yet continue still knocking, and he will at length open his treasures of mercy, so that you will be sure to obtain: for he hath so promised, if you continue in faith, hoping surely in him. These former lessons, with all such instructions as I have told you by mouth, I do wish that you would most earnestly learn; and then I doubt not, but God, who is the giver of all grace, will assist you in all your doings, that you may be found worthy of his kingdom, which is prepared through Christ.

FURTHER, whereas it pleased God to send ••s children, my desire is that they may be brought up in the fear of God, and in his laws. And this is to certify you, that you deliver in any wise my eldest son unto Mr. Throgmorton, who upon his good will hath promised me to bring him up according to my desire; and I trust as God hath put into his heart. See therefore that you deliver him in any wise without delay: and as for the other, if you shall seem to be burdened with him, (which I think nature will not suffer) my desire is, that it be brought up in the fear of God to the uttermost of your endeavour, with some honest man that hath the fear of God before his eyes; and let us give thanks unto God which hath given them unto us, beseeching him that they may be of that flock that shall stand on the right hand of the majesty of God, when he shall judge the world. Amen.

YET once again I warn you, that you continue in fer|vent prayer, as I said before; then shall you be sure, that God even of his own mercy, according as he hath promised, will be an husband unto you, and provide better for you than ever I was able to do: yea, he will cause all men that fear him to pity you, to help you, to succour you in all your necessities, so that if any do you wrong, he will be avenged on him. Moreover, I wish you to keep company with those of whom you may learn to come to a more perfect knowledge of God, and I doubt not but God will provide that such will be glad to receive you, if you shall profess and go forward in his truth.

FINALLY, and to make an end, I desire you that you take heed with whom you couple yourself. See that he be a man that feareth God, loveth his laws, and will walk in the same to the uttermost of his power: such a one as can be content to love you, and to care for you. Take heed he be no brawler, no drunkard, no wicked person, not given to filthiness, no worldling, no dicer, nor carder: in fine, no filthy person; but chuse such a one as God may be glo|rified in both your lives. And again on your part, love him, serve him, and obey him in all godliness, as long as God shall give you life in this world. Then shall you both be sure to obtain that kingdom which God the Father hath prepared, and Jesus Christ obtained for you, that never shall have an end, where I trust to abide your coming. Amen.

By your husband, THOMAS HAUKES.

LETTER III. From Mr. THOMAS HAUKES, to Mr. CLEMENT THROGMORTON.

GRACE, mercy, and peace from God the Father, and from our Lord Jesus Christ, be with you, and assist you in all your thoughts, words, and works, that he in all things, as most worthy, may be glorified, and that the bles|sing of Abraham may be poured plenteously on you and all your posterity.

WHEREAS the love of God hath moved you to require my son to be brought up before your eyes, and the self same love hath also moved me in like case to leave him in your hands, as unto a father in my absence, I shall require you in God's behalf according to your promises, that you will see him brought up in the fear of the Lord, and instructed in the knowledge of his holy word, that he may thereby learn to leave the evil, and to know the good, and always to be

pricked forward with fatherly instructions to follow my footsteps, that as Almighty God hath made me worthy, through his special grace to work his will in obedience, he may learn to follow me his father in the like, to God's ho|nour and praise: and this I require you in God's behalf to fulfil, or cause to be fulfilled, as you before the living God must make answer for the same. I have left for the child certain books which shall be delivered unto you, wherein his instruction and salvation lieth, if he learn and practise the same. And thus most humbly beseeching you once again, to be as good unto him, as your promise was unto me, that is, to be a father, and a wall of defence unto him in all troubles, I leave him in your hand through the Lord Jesus, and desire him to bless both him and you according to his good promise: and all that good which you shall do unto him, I shall most heartily desire the everlasting God to recompense unto you in his kingdom, where I hope to meet both him and you among all God's elect. To which God be all praise, honour, and glory, Amen.

Your's, and all men's in Christ Jesus, THOMAS HAUKES.

The HISTORY of Mr. THOMAS WATS.

THOMAS WATS, of Billerica within the county of Essex, of the diocese of London, was by his occupation a linen draper; who, before he was apprehended, had sold and made away his cloth in his shop, his things being set in order for his wife and children, and gave away much of his cloth unto the poor. For he daily expected to be taken by God's adversaries and his, as shortly after came to pass; so that upon the 26th day of April, he was apprehended and brought before the lord Rich, and other commissioners at Chelmsford, and there being accused for not coming to the church, was upon the same examined before the lord Rich, Henry Tyrel, sir Anthony Brown, Edmund Tyrel, Thomas Mildman, John Wiseman, Roger Appleton, Richard Weston, justice Gaudy, &c. The sum and principal effect of which examination hereunder followeth, briefly expressed.

WHEN Thomas Wats came before the lord Rich and the justices, whose names are specified in the following letter, (which they sent unto the bishop of London against him) at the sessions at Chelms|ford, the lord Rich spoke to him as follows;

WATS, you be brought hither, as I understand, because of disobedience to the king and queen's laws. You will not come to the church, you will not hear mass, &c. but have your conventicles a sort of you in corners, contrary to the king's and queen's proceedings. To which Mr. Wats answer|ed and said:

MY lord, if I have offended a law, I am subject here to the law. Then Anthony Brown, justice, said unto him; Wats, I pray thee, tell me who hath been thy schoolmaster to teach thee this reli|gion, or where didst thou first learn it? Forsooth, said Wats, even of you, sir, you taught it me, and none more than you. For in king Edward's days in open sessions you spake against this religion now used, no preacher more. You then said the mass was abominable, and all their trumpery besides, wishing and earnestly exhorting that none should believe therein, and that our belief should be only in Christ: and you said then, whosoever should bring in any strange nation to rule here, it were treason, and not to be suffered. Then Mr. Brown said to my lord Rich, He belies me, my lord— What a knave is this? He will soon bely me be|hind my back, when he doth it before my face. And my lord Rich said again, I dare say he doth so.

AFTER these words, Mr. Wats took occasion to speak somewhat of king Philip and of his coming in, but what it was I could not justly learn. But thus much was heard, that after those words spoken, the bench among themselves stood up, and said one to another, Treason; except one good man called justice Gaudy, who a little before was about to speak; but when he heard them cry Treason, he held down his head, as one grieved and troubled at their doings.

IN conclusion, the commissioners being weary of him, or else not willing to meddle further in such matters, sent him up to the bishop of London, to|gether with a letter, declaring the cause of his being sent up, as by the contents thereof may be seen.

A LETTER, Sent by certain Justices in Essex, to BONNER, Bishop of London.

AFTER our most hearty commendations to your good lordship, these shall be to advertise you, that at our sessions of oyer and terminer held at Chelmsford, the

26th day of April last past, there came before us in open court, one Thomas Wats of Billerica within your diocese, by ordinary process, and then and there being examined why he refused to come to his parish church, and there to receive the sacrament of the altar, and hear divine service, according to the institution of the holy church, he openly there an|swered generally: That like as the service of the church set out in the days of the late king Edward VI. was said by us now to be abominable, heretical, schismatical, and naught; so he said, that all that is now used and done in the church, is abominable, heretical, schismatical, and wicked; with divers other erroneous and arrogant words: and therefore we have thought proper to send him to your lordship, to be further examined by you of his particular opinions, as to your pastoral office shall seem convenient, certifying you further, that in our opinion he is one of the most arrogant heretics, that hath been heard speak, or ever came before you, and not meet to be kept here in any jail, as well for fear of corrupting others, as for divers and sundry other special causes hereafter to be more declared. Thus leaving to molest your good lordship, we commit you to the Holy Ghost.

Given at Chelmsford, April 27, 1555.

Your good lordship's most assured,

• R. Rich
• Henry Tyrel
• Anthony Brown
• Edmund Tyrel
• Thomas Mildman.
• John Wiseman
• Roger Appleton
• Richard Weston.

NOW when the bishop had received him, how he used him it is easy (by his common practice with others) to judge. What his private conferences were, I know not; but what was publicly done in the consistory at St Paul's, (the common stage for these tragedies) you shall here see.

The First Appearance of Mr. THOMAS WATS, in the Bishop's Consistory.

FIRST upon Thursday, the 2d of May, Mr. Thomas Wats was brought before the bishop of London, and there being examined upon his words said before lord Rich, and others, as contain|ed in their letter, he did earnestly affirm the same to be true. Whereupon the bishop objected, and ex|amined him upon these articles following, to which he answered as hereafter will appear.

Articles objected against Mr. THOMAS WATS, of Bil|lerica, in the County of Essex, within the Diocese of London, by Bishop BONNER.

1. THAT the said Thomas Wats is of Billerica, and so of the jurisdiction of the bishop of London.

2. ITEM, That he believeth not in the sacraments of the holy and catholic church, as the catholic church of Rome, and all other churches, members of the same, ever hitherto have believed, and is taught by all good and faithful people; nor hath allowed the sacraments, rites, usages, or ceremonies of the said church, but hath despised the same.

3. ITEM, That he believeth, and also hath taught others, that the substance of material bread and wine do remain in the sacrament of the altar after the consecration, and that the said material bread and wine are the signs and tokens of Christ's body hanged upon the cross, and of his blood there shed; and that in the said sacrament there is only a me|mory or remembrance of Christ's body and blood, and nothing else.

4. ITEM, That he believeth, and doth precisely affirm, that the very true presence of Christ's body and blood in substance, is not in the sacrament of the altar, but only in heaven, and no where else.

5. ITEM, That he believeth, affirmeth, and saith, the mass now used in the church of Rome, here in England, and other places, is full of idolatry, abo|mination, and wickedness, and that Christ did never institute it, nor ordain it, nor yet allow it as a good and laudable thing to be used in his church.

6. ITEM, That he believeth, and affirmeth, that auricular confession to be made unto the priest is not necessary, but superfiuous: and that it is enough for a man to believe only, and to confess himself unto God, without any priest or minister at any time, though he may have the priest to confess him unto.

7. ITEM, That he b••lieveth that Luther, Wick|liffe, Dr. Barnes, and all others that have held against the sacrament of the altar, and suffered death by fire or otherwise for the maintenance of the said opinion, were good men, and faithful servants and martyrs of Christ in so living and dying.

8. ITEM, That he hath and doth believe, that to fast, pray, or to do alms-deeds, is a thing utterly unprofitable; for if a man shall be saved, he shall be saved without doing of them; and if he shall be

damned, they shall not help him, or do him any good at all.

9. ITEM, That the said Wats of late coming into open court at the sessions before the lord Rich, sir Henry Tyrel, knight, Anthony Brown, esquire, and others, and being then and there examined, did openly confess, that he had refused to come to the church, and to hear there the divine service, and to receive the sacrament of the altar, according to the order of the church: because that like as the service of the church set out in the days of the late king Edward VI. was said and alledged to be abomi|nable, heretical, schismatical, and altogether naught; so he the said Thomas Wats, then and there said openly before the said commissioners, that all that is now used and done in the church, is abominable, heretical, schismatical, and altogether naught: and that he did also then utter, before the said commis|sioners, other erroneous and arrogant words, to the hurt of his soul, and to the evil example of the peo|ple there present.

10. ITEM, That the said Thomas, by reason of the premises, was, and is to be taken, had, reputed, and judged as an heretic, and for the same, by order of the ecclesiastical laws, is to be declared accursed; and being obstinate and incorrigible, is to be deli|vered to the secular power, to be punished as an heretic▪

11. ITEM, That he, over and above all these of|fences and trespasses aforesaid, had also added this trespass, namely, That he had believed and delibe|rately said, that the church of Rome, in her rites, ceremonies, sacraments, institutions, and traditions, is the synagogue of Satan; and therefore that he had assented and agreed in opinion with one John Tooly, of late hanged at Cha••ing cross, who at the time of his execution desired the people to pray to be delivered from the tyranny of the bishop of Rome, with all his enormities; as much as to say, that his authority and doings were tyranny, and had all enormities and iniquities in them.

12. ITEM, That the premises and every part thereof be true, notorious, manifest, and openly spoken and talked of amongst the honest and credi|ble persons in great multitude; and that of all and singular the same within Billerica aforesaid, and other places thereabout, being of the diocese of London, there is a common voice and fame thereof.

The Answer of Mr. THOMAS WATS to the aforesaid Articles.

TO the first he said and confessed the same to be true in every part thereof.

TO the second article he answered, that he be|lieveth in all the sacraments according to Christ's institution, and the catholic church; but not accord|ing to the bishop of Rome's church: and further said, that he doth not believe now as he had done in times past; for in times past he believed as the church then believed, but now he doth not so be|lieve; for the church of Rome hath deceived us, and therefore he said he did not believe as the church of Rome believeth, but as Christ hath taught him; and further said, that he was so taught to be|lieve by the preaching of Mr. Alvey, and others whose names he remembereth not, who did preach the word of God truly and sincerely.

TO the third he answered, that he hath and doth believe, that Christ's body is in heaven, and no where else: and further, that he will never believe that Christ's body is in the sacrament.

TO the fourth he answered, confessing and firmly believing the same to be true.

TO the fifth. That he did believe that the mass is abominable, and that he will not go one jot from that his belief.

TO the sixth, That he neither did, nor yet doth believe, that the priest can absolve him from his sins: howbeit, he denieth not that it is good to ask counsel at the priest's mouth.

TO the seventh he said, That he knew not what the opinions of the said persons named in the said article were; and in case the said persons did believe, that the body and blood of Christ were really and in very deed in the sacrament of the altar, thou that they were not good men. But in case they did be|lieve that the body and blood of Christ was not in

the sacrament of the altar really and truly, then he believed that they were good men.

TO the eighth he said, That he had not spoken as is contained in this article; but he hath and doth believe, that fasting, prayers, and alms-deeds be works of a lively faith.

TO the ninth he confessed, That he did utter and speak, as in this article is contained, and further he desired God that he might die in that faith and be|lief wherein he now is.

TO the tenth he answered and said, That he will submit himself herein to the order of the law: and further said, that he trusteth that with God he shall be blessed, although with men he be accursed.

TO the eleventh he said, he believed that the bishop of Rome is a mortal enemy to Christ and his church. And as for Tooly he said, he did never see or know him: but in case the said Tooly did wish and pray as is contained in the article, then he did likewise wish and consent with him therein.

TO the twelfth he answered, That all which be|fore he confessed to be true, is also true; and all that he hath denied to be true, he denieth again to be true, and believeth the same to be according to such things as he hath confessed.

By me, THOMAS WATS.

THESE articles thus propounded and answered, the bishop commanded him to appear again in the same place at three o'clock in the afternoon, upon the same day. At which hour being brought hi|ther by his keeper, the bishop began with him in this wise:

WATS, you know what I said unto you to day, and what I appointed unto you at this time. The time is now come; weigh and consider with your|self, that you are but a man, and albeit that you will wilfully cast away your body, yet cast not away your soul, but while you have time return and confess the truth.

WHEREUNTO Thomas Wats answered and said, I am weary to live in such idolatry as you would have me to live in. Upon which answer the bishop caused his articles again to be read. He thereto answered as before, and farther, subscribed the same with his own hand.

THE bishop, after many persuasions to cause him to recant, ordered him to depart, and to come again on Saturday at eight o'clock in the morning. Where the bishop being absent, Dr. Nicholas Harpsfield, as then being his deputy, did sit, and earnestly ex|horted him to deny his opinions. To whom in the end he answered thus:

WELL, you have a law to condemn me, and I submit myself to the laws of the church (as you call it): and farther I do affirm, and still stand to the answers I have made.

WHEREUPON Dr. Harpsfield ordered him to ap|pear there again upon Friday, being the 10th day of the same month of May. Upon which day the bishop privately sent for the said Thomas Wats into his chamber, and there with many fair promises tempted and tried him, whether he would revoke his errors, as he then termed them. But Wats answered him in this sort; I will not believe your church, neither the Romish church, and therefore you do but labour in vain thus to travail with me. He was hereupon again dismissed for that time un|til Friday the 17th of May, and then commanded to appear in the consistory; which command he obeyed, and having the accustomed former articles ministered unto him, made them such answers as before.

BEING thus tost to and fro from day to day, and hour to hour, he was at last, the 18th of May, brought into the consistory, where first was made a brief recital of all the former process: and there the said Wats being (by the bishop and others) desired to deny his profession, made this final answer; God keep me from the doctrine that you would have me come unto, which you have now declared. And I beseech God that I may persevere in that, that I have done; for I will stand to mine answers.

THE bishop perceiving his fair flattering promises prevailed not, (and having no great store of other

reasons to persuade with) put forth his last and strongest argument of condemnation. Which be|ing ended, he was delivered to the sheriffs of Lon|don, and by them was sent to Newgate, where he remained until the 9th of June, or (as some assert) to the 22d of May: at which time he was carried to Chelmsford, and there was brought to Mr. Scot's house, keeping then an inn in Chelmsford, where, as they were eating with Mr. Haukes and the rest that came down to their burning, they pray|ed together both before and after their meat.

THEN Mr. Wats went and prayed privately by himself, and afterwards came to his wife and his six children being there, and said these words in effect: Wife, and my good children, I must now depart from you. Therefore henceforth know I you no more, but as the Lord hath given you unto me, so I give you again unto the Lord, whom I charge you ever to obey, and fear: and beware you turn not to this abominable popery, against which I shall anon, by God's grace, give my blood. Let not the murdering of God's people cause you to relent, but take occasion thereby to be the strong|er in the Lord's quarrel, and I doubt not but he will be a merciful Father unto you. All these and such like words spake he unto them, and they unto him: of whom two, as it is said, offered to be burnt with him. In the end he bade them farewel, and kissed them all, and was carried to the fire.

AT the stake, after he had kissed it, he spake to my lord Rich these or the like words; My lord, said he, beware, beware, for you do against your own conscience herein, and without you repent, the Lord will avenge it: for you are the cause of this my death. Thus did this good martyr offer his body to the fire, in defence of the true gospel of Jesus Christ.

WE will now return to the proceedings of the court in the case of queen Mary's supposed child, whereof we have already treated, in a former part of this work.

LONG persuasion had been in England with great expectation, for the space of half a year or more, that the queen was conceived with child. This re+port was made by the queen's physicians, and others about the court: so that several were punished for saying the contrary. And a command was given, that in all churches supplications and prayer should be made for the queen's good delivery: the certi|ficate whereof you may read before in the letter of the council sent to bishop Bonner. And also the same moreover may appear by provision made be|fore by act of parliament for the child.

AND now forasmuch as in the beginning of this month of June, about Whitsuntide, the time was thought to be nigh that this young master should come into the world, and ••hat midwives, rockers, nurses, with the cradle and all, were prepared and in readiness; suddenly, upon what cau•••• or occasion is unknown, a certain vain rumour was spread about in London of the safe delivery of the queen and the birth of the child. Insomuch that the ••ells were rung, bonfi••es and processions mad•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 only in the city of London, and in most other parts of the realm, but also in the town of Antwerp, guns were shot off upon the river by the English ships, and the mariners thereof rewarded with an hundred pistolets or Italian crowns by the lady regent, who was the queen of Hungary. Such great rejoicing and triumph was made for the queen's delivery, and that there was a prince born. Yea, divers preachers, particularly the parson of St. Ann within Aldersgate, after procession and Te Deum sung, took upon him to describe the proportion of the child, how fair, how beautiful, and great a prince he was, as the like had not been seen.

IN the midst of this great ado, there was a simple man, dwelling within four miles of Berwick, that never had been half way to London, who said con|cerning the bonfires made for queen Mary's child, "Here is a joyful triumph, but at length all will not prove worth a mess of pottage," as indeed it came to pass: for in the end all proved clean con|trary, and the joy and expectations of men were much deceived. For the people were certified, that the queen neither was then delivered, nor after was in hope to have any child.

AT this time many talked diversly. Some said this rumour of the queen's conception was spread for a policy; others affirmed, that she was deceived by a tympany or some other like disease, to think

herself with child, and was not; some thought she was with child, and that it did by some chance mis|carry, or else that she was bewitched; but what was the truth thereof the Lord knoweth, to whom nothing is secret. One thing of mine own hearing and seeing, I cannot pass over unwitnessed.

THERE came to me, (says Mr. Fox) whom I did both hear and see, one Isabel Malt, a woman dwel+ling in Horn-alley, Aldersgate-street, who before witness made this declaration unto us, That she be|ing delivered of a man-child upon Whitsunday in the morning, which was the 11th day of June, 1555, there came to her the lord North, and another lord to her unknown, dwelling then about Old Fish-street, demanding of her if she would part with her child, and would swear that she never knew nor had any such child. Which, if she would, her son, they said, should be well provided for, she should take no care of it, with many fair offers if she would part with the child.

AFTER that came some women also, of whom one they said should be the rocker; but she in no wise would let go her son, who at the writing here of being alive, and called Timothy malt, was of the age of 13 years, and upwards.

THUS much, I say, I heard of the woman herself. What credit is to be given to her relation, I deal not withal, but leave it to the liberty of the reader, to believe it they that list; to them that list not, I have no further warrant to assure them.

AMONG many other great preparations made for the queen's deliverance of child, there was a cradle very sumptuously and gorgeously trimmed, upon which cradle for the child appointed, these verses were written, both in Lating and English.

Quam Maria sobolem, Deus optime, summe dedisti, Anglis incolumem redde, tuere, Rege.

"The child which thou to Mary, O Lord of might do'st send, To England's joy, in health preserve, keep and defend."

ABOUT this time there came over into England a certain English book, giving warning to English|men of the Spaniards, and disclosing some secret practices for the recovery of abbey-lands, which book was called "a Warning for England." In consequence of which, on the 13th day of this month, the following proclamation was issued.

A Proclamation issued by the King and Queen for the restraining of all Books and Writings, tending against the Doctrine of the Pope and his Church.

WHEREAS by the statute made in the second year of king Henry IV. concerning the repressing of he••esy, there is ordained and provided a great punishment, not only for the authors, makers, and writers of books con|taining wicked doctrine, and erroneous and heretical opi|nions, contrary to the catholic faith and determination of holy church, and likewise for their favourers and supporters; but also for such as shall have or keep any such books of writings, and not make delivery of them to the ordinary of the diocese or his ministers, within a certain time limited in the said statute, which act or statute being by authority of parliament of late revived, was also openly proclaimed, to the intent the subjects of the realm upon such proclama|tion should the rather eschew the danger and penalty of the said statute; and as yet nevertheless in most parts of the realm the same is neglected, and little regarded: the king and queen our sovereign lord and lady, therefore, &c. strait|ly charge and command, that no person or persons, of what estate, degree, or condition soever he or they be, from hence|forth presume to bring or convey, or cause to be brought or conveyed into this realm, any books, writings or works hereafter mentioned▪ that is to say, any book or books, writings or works made or set forth, by, or in the name of Martin Luther, or any book or books, writings or wo••ks made and set forth, by, or in the name of Oecolampadius, Zuinglius, John Calvin, Pomeran••, John Alasco, Bullin|ger, Bucer, Melancthon, Bernardinus, Ochinus, Erasmus, Sarcerius, Peter Mart••r, Hugh Latimer, Robert Barnes, otherwise called Friar Barnes, John Bale, otherwise called Friar Bale, Justus Jonas, John Hooper, Miles Coverdale, William Tindal, Thomas Cranmer, late archbishop of Canterbury, William Turner, Theodore Basil, otherwise called Thomas Beacon, John Frith, Roy, and the book commonly called Hall's Chronicle, or any of them in the Latin tongue, Dutch tongue, English tongue, Italian tongue, or French tongue, or any other like book, paper, writing, or work, made, printed, or set forth, by any other person or persons, containing false doctrine contrary and against the catholic faith, and the doctrine of the catholic church. And also that no person or persons presume to write, print, ••tter, sell, read, or keep any, or cause to be written, print|ed, uttered, or kept any of the said books, papers, works, or writings, or any other book or books written or printed in the Latin or English tongue, concerning the common ser|vice and administration set forth in English to be used in

the churches of this realm, in the time of king Edward VI. commonly called the communion book, or book of com|mon service and ordering of ministers, otherwise called, The book set forth by the authority of parliament, for com|mon prayer and administration of the sacraments, or to be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the mother tongue within the church of England, but shall within the space of fifteen days next after the pub|lication of this proclamation, bring or deliver, or cause the said books, writings, and works, and every of them remain|ing in their custody and keeping, to be brought and deli|vered to the ordinary of the diocese, where such books, works, or writings be or remain, or to his chancellor or commissaries, without fraud, colour or deceit, at the said ordinaries will and disposition to be burnt, or otherwise to be used or ordered by the said ordinaries, as by the canons or spiritual laws it is in that case limited and appointed, upon pain that every offender contrary to this proclamation, shall incur the danger and penalties contained in the said statute, and as they will avoid their majesties high indigna|tion and displeasure, and further answer to their uttermost perils.

And their majesties by this proclamation give full power and authority to all the bishops and ordinaries, and all justi|ces of the peace, mayors, sheriffs, bailiffs of cities and towns corporate, and other head officers within this realm and the dominions thereof, and expressly commandeth and willeth the same and every of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that they and every of them, within their several limits and jurisdictions, shall in default and negligence of the said subjects, after the said fifteen days expired, ••••quire and search out the said books, writings, and works▪ and for this purpose enter into the house or houses, closet and secret places of every person, of whatso|ever degree, being negligent in this behalf, and suspected to keep any such books, writings, or works, contrary to this proclamation: and that the said justices, mayors, sheriffs, bailiffs, and other head officers above specified, and every of them within their said limits and jurisdictions finding any of the said subjects negligent and faulty in this behalf, shall commit every such offender to ward, there to remain with|out bail or main-prize, till the same offender or offenders have received such punishment as the said statute doth limit and appoint in this behalf. Given under our signs manual, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 our manor of Hampton-court, the 13th day of June, the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and second years of our reign.

ARTICLES to be inquired upon by the Wardens of every Company touching seditious Books, especially ••oncerning the Book called, A WARNING for EN|GLAND.

1. WHETHER they have seen any of the afore|said books.

2. WHETHER they have heard any of the said books.

3. WHERE they were, and in what place they have seen them.

4. WHOM they know to have lately come from beyond the sea, especially from Zurich, Strasburgh, Frankfort, Wesel, Embden, and Doesburg

5. WHOM they know or vehemently suspect to be common carriers of letters, or money thither from hence.

6. THAT they bring to my lord mayor all such seditious books as they have, or shall have found hereafter.

IN this proclamation the reader will easily disco|ver the profound and learned censure of the Roman catholic church, what books they dislike and reject as heretical, schismatical, and pernicious. On which catholic censure of the learned fathers, we have not leisure at present to enlarge; neither is it necessary in this place to enter into a particular defence of the authors here condemned. Suffice it therefore to take a general view of the ridiculous (not to say blasphemous) matter contained in some of the po|pish books; which by being contrasted with the doctrines of the opposite side, may give an oppor|tunity of judging the better, which is most agreeable to God's holy word and truth, and of discerning between the true catholic church and the mother of abominations.

AND first to begin with the primmer in English, for children, printed with a privilege according to the king and queen's majesty's letters patent, in the reign of queen Mary. Let us repeat and survey some part of the said primmer, (for to express all, would be too tedious) beginning with the first lesson of our lady, in these words:

"Holy Mary, mother of virgins all; Mother and daughter of the king celestial, So comfort us in our desolation, That by thy prayer and special meditation, We may enjoy the reward of thy heavenly reign."

COMPARE this with the scriptures, good reader, and judge uprightly whether this doctrine be tolera|ble in the church or not.

IT followeth, in the second Lesson.

"Holy Mary, of all godly the godliest, Pray for us, of all holy the holiest; That he our prayers may accept in good wise, [&c. Which of thee was born; and reigns above the skies,

IN the third Lesson.

"Thy Son beseech with humble intercession; To purge us clean of our transgression; That so being redeemed we may the place ascend, Where thou dwellest with him world without end."

The Versicle.

"Pray for the people, intreat for the clergy, make in|tercession for the devout woman-kind; let all feel thy help, that worthily solemnize thy memorial," &c.

Another Versicle.

"Holy mother of God, make thy petition; that we may deserve Christ's promission," &c.

AND in the anthem after Benedictus, thus it followeth:

"We beseech thee of thy pity to have us in remem|brance, and to make means for us unto Christ, that we being supported by thy help, may deserve to attain the kingdom of heaven."

FURTHERMORE in the Collect after it followeth:

"And grant, that through the gracious intercession of the virgin thy mother, we may be delivered from this pre|sent heaviness, and have the fruition of eternal gladness."

IT followeth moreover in the said Primmer thus, concerning the material cross.

"O God, which hast ascended thy most holy cross, and hast given light to the darkness of the world, vouchsafe by the virtue of thy cross to illuminate, visit, and comfort both our hearts and bodies," &c.

MOREOVER, in the name of John the Baptist, thus it prayeth:

"O Lord, defend us always through the continual suc|cours of St. John the Baptist. For the more frail we be, the more need we have to be relieved with necessary prayers," &c.

IN which words note (good reader) not only the absurdity of doctrine, but also the foolishness of the reason. For where their doctrine pretendeth that St. John the Baptist should pray for us, here we pray to God for St. John the Baptist, that he will hear his prayer praying for us. It followeth fur|thermore in the names of Peter and Paul:

"Hear us mercifully, and grant that through the merits of them both, we may obtain the glory everlasting," &c.

OF St. Andrew.

"So let him, O Lord, be a continual petitioner for us," &c.

OF St. Laurence, thus:

"St. Laurence the deacon did work a great work. For by the virtue of the holy cross, he gave sight to the blind," &c.

BUT how can this be true, when the holy cross was not yet found in the time of St. Laurence? For Helen which first found the cross, as they say, came after St. Laurence more than forty years.

TO Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury.

"By the blood of Thomas, which he for thee did spend, Makes us, Christ, to climb, where Thomas did ascend."

OF St. Nicholas.

"O God, which hast glorified blessed St. Nicholas, thy holy bishop, with innumerable miracles, grant, we beseech thee, that by his merits and prayers we may be delivered from the fire of hell.

OF Mary Magdalen.

"Grant, we beseech thee, thy mercy, to let her pur|chase for us the bliss everlasting," &c.

ANOTHER prayer to our Lady.

"The dolorous passion of God's sweet mother, Bring us to the bliss of Almighty God the Father," &c.

Another prayer in the said Primmer to our Lady.

"Establish us in peace and tranquillity▪ And change the name of sinful Eve: Loose thy prisoners from captivity, Unto the blind give sight again. Deliver us from malignity, To the end we may some grace obtain. Shew thyself to be a mother, So that he accept our petition. Deliver us from bondage of sin," &c.

Item.

"Holy m••ther, succour the miserable, comfort the weak-spirited, give courage to the desperate, pray for the people, make intercession for the clergy, and be a mean for the de••out of woman-kind," &c.

Another blasphemous Prayer.

"O thou meek mother, have mercy therefore On wretches for whom thou hadst these pains all, Seeing thy Son, that vine-cluster pressed sore, And from the pestilence of death eternal Keep us, by ••voiding the fiend infernal, And join us with them which rewarded be With eternal life, seeing the Deity."

Another blasphemy in the said Primmer.

"Hail queen, mother of mercy, our life, our sweetness, our hope. Unto thee do we cry and sigh, weeping and wailing. Come off therefore our patroness; cast upon us thy pitiful eyes, and after this our banishment shew to us the blessed fruit of thy womb. O gate of glory, be for us a reconciliation unto the Father and the Son. From the wretched their faults expel: wipe the spots of sins un|clean," &c.

Item, to our Lady.

"The fruit of thy womb everlasting, We may behold through thy deserving," &c.

Item.

"Grant, we beseech thee, that by her merits and pray|ers we may attain to that unspeakable joy; where she be|ing ascended doth now rejoice with thee in heaven for ever."

AND thus much hitherto of this catholic Prim|mer, called our Lady's Mattins. Whereunto, if it were not tedious for the reader, we would also adjoin our Lady's Psalter, to the intent that all indifferent readers, as they have seen what books these catholic fathers have condemned and do con|demn for heretical; so they may also see and judge, what books on the other side they approve as law|ful and catholic. And forasmuch as it is known to all men what our Lady's Psalter is, or what it meaneth; yea, and some peradventure will deny any such book as our Lady's Psalter to be written or approved, here first we will produce the name of the author, who was Bonaventure, a seraphical doctor, bishop also and cardinal, canonized moreover by pope Sixtus IV. in the year 1482, for a saint in the kalendar. In the second part of his whole works, (which were printed at Argentine, anno 1495) to shew himself a devout servant of his lady, he hath taken every psalm of David's Psal|ter, (which are peculiarly made and referred to Al|mighty God) and hath in several of the said psalms, put out the name of the Lord, and hath substituted the name of our Lady. This being done through the whole Psalms and every one of them, it is now called our Lady's Psalter, used to be sung and said in the praise and service of our Lady. A brief specimen whereof, for example's sake, we thought proper here to exhibit unto the reader, as follow|eth.

The Title of the Psalter in English.

"Here beginneth the Psalter of the blessed virgin, made by the seraphical doctor St. Bonaventure, bishop of Al|ban, and cardinal of the holy church of Rome.

1. "BLESSED is the man which understandeth thy name, O virgin Mary, thy grace shall com|fort his soul. Thou shalt bring forth in him the most plen|tiful fruit of justice, being watered as it were with foun|tains of water. All women thou surpassest in beauty of thy body; all angels and archangels, in the excellency of thy holiness. Thy mercy and thy grace is magnified eve|ry-where. Glory be to the Father," &c.

2. "Why do our enemies fret and imagine vain things against us? Let thy right hand defend us, O mother of God, terribly confounding and destroying them as a sword. Come unto her all ye that labour and are troubled, and she will give rest unto your souls. Come unto her in your temptations, and her loving countenance shall establish and comfort you. Bless her with all your heart, for the earth is full of her mercy. Glory be to the Father," &c.

3. "Why are they so many, O lady, that trouble me? In thy fury thou shalt persecute and destroy them. Loose the bonds of our impiety, and take away the burden of our sins. Have mercy upon me, O lady, and heal my infir|mity. Take away my sorrow, and the anguish of my heart. Deliver me not into the hands of mine enemi••s, and in the day of my death comfort my soul. Bring me unto the haven of salvation, and restore my spirits unto my maker and creator. Glory be to the Father," &c.

4. "When I called to thee, thou heardst, O my lady, and out of thy high throne thou didst vouchsafe to think upon me. From the roaring of them that prepare themselves to devour me, and out of the hands of such as seek after my life, thy grace shall deliver me: because thy mercy and thy pity are great towards all them that call upon thy holy name. Blessed be thou, O lady, for ever, and thy maj••••••y for ever and ever. Glorify her all nations of the earth," &c.

5. "HEAR my words, O lady, &c. turn our 〈◊〉〈◊〉 into gladness, and our trouble into rejoicing. Let our ••••••|mies fall before our feet, and with thy power dash their heads in pieces."

6. "O lady, suffer me not to be rebuked in God's anger, nor to be chastened in his heavy displeasure, &c. From the gate and deep pit of hell, with thy holy prayers deliver us. ••et the everlasting gates be opened, that we may shew forth thy marvellous works for ever. Because the dead, nor they that be in hell, shall not praise thee, O lady, but they which obtain by thy grace life everlasting."

7. "O my lady, in thee will I put my trust; deliver me from mine enemies, O my lady. Stop the mouth of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and bind the lips of the persecutors. Make no tarry|ing for thy name's sake, to shew mercy upon me. Let the brightness of thy countenance shine upon us, that our con|science may be saved before the most highest. If the enemy do persecute my soul, O lady, help me that he destroy me not."

9. "I will give thanks to thee, O lady, with my whole heart, and will shew forth among the nations thy praise and glory, &c. They shall find grace through thee, the finder out of grace and salvation: the humble and penitent groan for pardon and forgiveness; heal thou the sores of their heart," &c.

11. "IN thee, O lady, do I put my trust, &c. Seek her even from your youth, and she shall glorify you, &c. In mercy take from us the multitude of our sins, and give unto us plenteousness of merits," &c.

12. "SAVE me, O mother of love, and fountain of mer|cy, &c. Thou thyself alone hast gone about the compass of the earth, to help them that call upon thee."

13. "HOW long dost thou forget me, O lady, and dost not deliver m•• in the day of my trouble? How long shall mine enemy triumph over me? With thy mighty power destroy him, &c. We magnify thee the finder and the au|thor of grace, by whom the world is repaired," &c.

16. "PRES••R••E me, O lady, for in thee have I put my trust, &c. 〈…〉〈…〉 thy breast••, which with thy de••fying milk did nourish the Saviour," &c.

18. "I will love thee, O lady of heaven and earth; I will call upon thy 〈…〉〈…〉 nations. Confess yourselves unto her, ye 〈…〉〈…〉 in heart, and she shall strengthen 〈…〉〈…〉 your enemies, &c. All ye ••••••ster••rs honour her, for she is your helper and special advocate. Be thou our ref••eshing and rest, for thou art the marvellous foundation of all religion."

20. "HEAR us, O lady, in the day of trouble, &c. Cast us not away in the time of our death, but succour our soul when it forsaketh the body. Send an angel to meet it, that it may be d••sended from the enemies, &c. In torments and ••ain let it feel thy comfort, and grant to it a place among the elect of God."

25. "TO thee, O lady, do I lift up my soul, &c. Let not the snares of death prevail against me, &c. Be thou my guide to the heavenly rest, and to the company of angels associate me."

26. "Judge thou me, O lady, for I am fallen from my innocency: but because I put my trust in thee, therefore I shall not fall," &c.

27. "O lady, let the brightness of thy face be my sight, and let the clearness of thy grace shine into my mind," &c.

28. "TO thee, O lady, &c. Have mercy upon me in the day of my trouble, and in the light of thy truth deliver me," &c.

31. "In thee, O lady, do I put my trust, let me not be confounded for ever; in thy glory receive me. Thou art my strength and my refuge, my consolation and protection, &c. Deliver me from the snare that they have said for me, because thou art my helper. Into thy hands I commend my spirit," &c.

34. "I will always praise our lady, &c. In perils, in adversity call upon her, and in time of need ye shall find succour. Let her conversation be an example unto you, and follow the virtue of her humility. Because therefore, O lady, thou wast humble and lowly, thou didst compel the word increate to take flesh of thee."

36. "The wicked man said, &c. Let him depart from his evil purpose; O mother of God, turn the countenance of God towards us: compel him to be merciful unto sin|ners. Blessed be thy power and dominion in heaven, and blessed be thy magnificence upon the earth."

45. "My heart is inditing a good mat••••••, O lady, &c. By thy holiness let my sins be purged, by 〈◊〉〈◊〉 integrity let me ob••ain incorruption," &c.

47. "Clap your hands all ye people &c. For she is the gate of life, the door of salvation, 〈…〉〈…〉 of our 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the hope of the penitent, the comfort of the sorrowful, the blessed peace of hearts and salvation. Have mercy upon me, O lady, have mercy upon me▪ for thou art the li••ht and hope of all that put their trust in thee."

51. "Have mercy upon me, O lady, which ar•• call••d the mother of mercy, and in the bowels of thy great compassion cleanse me from mine iniquities."

54. "O lady, in thy name save me, and from mine un|righteousness deliver me," &c.

70. "Make haste, O lady, to help me, &c. Have mercy on thy servants, by whom thy name is 〈◊〉〈◊〉," &c.

71. "In thee lady, have I put my trust: let me not be con••ounded for ever, in thy mercy deliver me," &c.

79. "O lady, the Gentiles are come into the inheritance of God, whom thou didst join unto Christ by thy merits," &c.

89. "THOU that rul••st Israel, &c. The favour of life cometh from her, and all health floweth out of her heart," &c.

91. "WHOSO dwelleth in the help of the mother of God, shall dwell in the shadow of her protection, &c. Cry unto her in your dangers, and the scourge shall not come near your tabernacle. The fruit of grace shall be to him whoso tru••te••h in her, and the gate of paradise shall be open unto him."

95. "COME let us rejoice to our lady, &c. Receive our souls at our last end, and bring them into everlasting rest," &c.

105. "PRAI••E our lad••, and call upon her name, &c. Everlasting salvation is in thy hand, O lady," &c.

110. "THE Lord said unto our lady, Sit here, my mo|ther, on my right hand," &c.

114. "IN the passing of my soul out of this world, come and meet 〈◊〉〈◊〉, O lady, and receive it, &c. Be to it a ladder to the kingdom of heaven, and a right way to the paradise of God," &c.

119. "THE whole earth is full of thy mercies, and there|fore I will s••••r••h out the way of the justifications, &c. I will 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for ever to praise thee, O lady, when thou shalt teach 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the justifications," &c.

125. "THEY that put their trust in thee, O mother of God, shall not be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 o•• the face of th•••• enemy," &c.

12••. "Except 〈…〉〈…〉 shall build the house of our heart, the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thereof shall not 〈◊〉〈◊〉."

1••8. "BL••••••ED is every one that feareth our lady, and bles|sed 〈◊〉〈◊〉 they that know to do her will," &c.

130. "〈…〉〈…〉 the deep I have called unto thee, O lady; O lady, hear my voice," &c.

132. "O lady, remember David, and all them that call upon thy name▪" &c.

134. "〈◊〉〈◊〉 and bless now our lady, all ye that put your trust in her holy name," &c."

136. "AT the floods of Bab••lon, &c. There is no pro|p••t••••ion to be found without her," &c.

140. "DELIVER me, O lady, from all evil, and from the infernal enemy defend me," &c.

145. "OUR eyes look up and trust in thee. Do thou send us meat and food convenient, &c. My tongue shall speak thy praise, and shall bless thee for ever."

148. "PRAISE thou our lady, O Jerusalem, and glorify her also, O thou Sion: for she buildeth up thy walls, and blesseth thy children. Her grace maketh thee fat, and giveth peace unto thy coasts," &c.

I could recite other things of like blasphemy, fol|lowing immediately after this psalter of our lady, in the seraphical doctor aforesaid, as these:

"BEHOLD my lady my Saviour, I will be bold in thee, and will not fear, &c. Because thou art my strength, &c. And art become my salvation," &c.

"REJOICE, O all mankind, because the Lord thy God hath given unto thee such a mediatrix," &c.

"I will confess to thee, O lady, because thou hast hid these things from the wise, and hast revealed them to the little ones."

"O thou wicked and peevish generation, acknowledge our lady thy Saviour. Is not she the mother that hath pos|sessed thee, and in faith hath begotten thee?"

"O thou blessed, in thy hands is laid up our salvation," &c.

"TO thy name let every knee bend, in heaven and earth, and in hell."

"LIKE as an infant cannot live without the nurse, so ne••ther canst thou have salvation without our lady."

"Whoso will be saved, before all things he must needs hold this belief of our lady: which belief, unless every one shall hold perfect and sound, he shall perish without doubt for ever."

MOREOVER, after these so horrible things and intolerable to be heard, in the next place followeth the r••sary or garland of our lady, compiled by the said Bonaventure; wherein these words are to be read, as followeth:

"O mediatrix between God and man, the Lord hath worthily magnified thee, that thou only shouldst conceive his Son. Wherefore, O good Mary our mediatrix, mother of grace, and mother of mercy," &c.

AND moreover, within few lines we find these following words:

"THEREFORE, O our empress and lady most bountiful, by the authority of a mother command, command (I say) thy well beloved Son, that he will stir up our minds from the love of worldly things, to heavenly desires, &c.

ITEM, "O thou advocate of the miserable, the eyes of thy servant be directed to thee," &c.

TO these premises, I might also adjoin the follow|ing blasphemous words of the said Bonaventure in the said book.

"WHAT greater goodness can be, than that Christ is content to be captive upon the altar?"

WHEREUPON he speaketh in the person of Jere|my, saying,

"BEHOLD I am in your hands, do with me as you see good, &c. Where note, saith he, that when any duke or prince is taken prisoner for his subjects, he is not let go, before he pay some great sum of money for his ransom. Even so neither we ought to let Christ go out of our hands being our prisoner and captive, except he grant to us remission of our sins and his heavenly kingdom. The priest therefore lifteth up the body of Christ upon the altar, as though he said thus, Behold him whom the whole world is not able to comprehend, he is holden here our captive, wherefore let us hold him fast, and not let him go before we obtain of him our requests," &c.

IS not here good catholic stuff, (christian reader) think you? Compare, I beseech you, this doctrine with the doctrine of the apostles, which teach us that we are fully complete in Christ, and I will re|fer me to no better judge than to your own con|science. And now therefore if any man has been in doubt in times past of the doctrine and proceed+ing of the church of Rome, whether it be rightly charged with blind errors, with blasphemy intoler|able, and idolatry abominable or not, here now he may be fully certified and resolved. For where was ever idolatry or blasphemy to be sound, if it be not here in this matrixs and psalter of our lady▪ If idolatry be to make an 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to be worshipped as God, which is no god, what do we here but make an idol of our lady▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉 they call her) to be worship|ed with no less dignity, glory▪ authority, revere••••••▪ and service, thu•• is the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 God himself? 〈…〉〈…〉 called our Lord, so she is called our Lady And if he be king, yet she is the queen of heaven. And though he have the name of God, yet she beareth so the title of the mother of God, that as mothers have the authority of their children, so she is willed to shew herself to be his mother, to cause him to grant our petitions. Finally, if he be our patron, yet she is our patroness. The command|ment saith, "Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve." And what worship or service can we give to God, more than we do ascribe unto her? and what benefit is to be asked at the hands of Christ our Saviour, which is not equally asked of her? to save our soule, to give us peace▪ to grant grace, to comfort the hopeless, to loose our captivity, to release oUr sins, to deliver from the fiend, to bring to heaven, &c. To her we pray, we cry, we weep, we sigh, we groan, we knock and kneel, to her we trust, and if we believe not also in our lady, we are no less than heretics.

FURTHERMORE, as Christ our only Lord and Sa|viour hath his church and congregation which pro|fess his name, of whom we are called christians; so neither is she likewise without her chapels, her cloisters, her chapte•• ••. fraternities, and brother|hoods, which professing her name in like sort, are called our lady's brethren, or white friars, besides an innumerable sort of other patrons of churches, of whom every one hath his peculiar church and re|ligion by himself; yet all these together be includ|ed under the general devotion of our lady their supreme patroness and governess.

NOW to proceed further to the other part of the commandment, which saith▪ "〈◊〉〈◊〉 only shalt thou serve." What service hath the Lord in all the church, but our lady also 〈…〉〈…〉 him hath the like? her mass, her 〈◊〉〈◊〉, her even-s••ng, her hours and compline, her 〈◊〉〈◊〉, her anthems, her collects, her pri••••••er, her psalter, her holy days likewise, yea 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to one. Finally, as the Lord hath his prayer called the Lord's prayer, so hath she her Ave Marys, yea ten A••es to one 〈…〉〈…〉: yea, and read further in the said Bonaventure, and you shall see her also to have her 〈…〉〈…〉 Bene|dictus, her Magnificat, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 her Qui••••••nque volt.

I•• the Lord our God had no•• expressed unto us his 〈…〉〈…〉, limiting unto us by

express injunction what to believe, what to follow, and how to worship and serve him, and how to re|ceive from him our salvation; but had left us to the imagination of our own inventions, every man to shift for himself after his own policy, then perad|venture this way taken by the pope's church, to make friends and mediators between God and us, for reconciliation, remission, and salvation, might have some shadow of reason; but now God's word doth bind us, doth prescribe and limit us precisely in every point touching salvation, what to believe, and what to do, shewing us plainly that we cannot be saved but by the blood of his Son only, neither can be justified but by faith only in the same Christ his Son. Wherefore not to believe that which he hath promised, is infidelity, and to follow any other belief than he hath set us, is plain idolatry. Which two special errors most commonly do follow the doctrine of the Romish church, as not only in this primmer and psalter of our Lady aforesaid, but also in all their proceedings, teachings, and preachings, besides may well appear. For where the scripture doth perfectly promise and pronounce us to be justi|fied through our faith in Christ, and willeth us to seek our salvation no where else, but only in the merits of Jesus; the institution of the church of Rome neither will receive what God hath freely given, (wherein standeth infidelity) neither yet will seek the same there where they should, but in the prayers of our Lady, St. John Baptist, St. Peter and St. Paul, St. Andrew, St. Nicholas, St. Tho|mas of Canterbury, and by the worthiness of the material cross▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉 such other unlawful means▪ which is no less 〈…〉〈…〉. And yet such books 〈…〉〈…〉 among the catholics to be 〈…〉〈…〉 and lawful books, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the others, wh••••h 〈…〉〈…〉 us the true way 〈…〉〈…〉 christianity▪ in 〈…〉〈…〉. But of this to complain is 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Wherefore to p••ss from this 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ let us proceed 〈◊〉〈◊〉 willing▪ in the course of 〈…〉〈…〉▪

The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of THOMAS 〈◊〉〈◊〉, WILLIAM 〈…〉〈…〉 THOMAS O••BORNE, &c.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 was made before in the sto•••• of Thomas 〈…〉〈…〉 six pris••ners besides, which were sent down with him to Essex the same time as he went to execution. Of these six prisoners, three were sent to be burnt, the other three to re|cant, and to do penance: of whom it followeth next to treat. The names of the six were these, Thomas Osmond, fuller, William Bamford, alias Butler, weaver, Thomas Osborne, fuller, Nicholas Chamberlain, weaver, Thomas Brodehill, weaver, Richard Web, weaver, being all of the town of Coxhall. All which men, next after the examina|tions of Thomas Haukes and Thomas Wats, were sent up to bishop Bonner to be examined, by the earl of Oxford and sir Philip Paris, knight, a letter also being sent with them, the copy whereof here followeth.

The Earl of OXFORD'S Letter to Bishop BONNER.

AFTER our hearty commendations unto your good lordship, this will be to advertise the same, that the constables of Co••••••••ll within your diocese, have brought before us this day six persons dwelling in the town of Cox|hall aforesaid, whose names do follow, to wit, Nicholas Chamberlain, weaver, John Wallet, fuller, Thomas Brode|hill, weaver, Richard Web, weaver, William Bamford, alias Butler, weaver, and Thomas Osborne, fuller, for that they at the feast of Easter now last, have not obey|ed the order of the holy catholic church in receiving of the sacraments, but obstinately refuse the same; besides of holding divers other opinions contrary to the faith of the said church. Wherefore we have thought it good to send the same persons unto your good lordship further to be or|dered, as in such case shall appertain. Thus we commit your good lordship to the keeping of Almighty God. From ••••dingham, the first of May, 1555.

Your lordship's assuredly, OXFORD, PHILIP PARIS.

THE said prisoners being sent up the first of May, were brought before the said bishop the 17th of the said month, to be examined upon divers and sundry articles ministered and objected against them; where|unto they were compelled to answer▪ and to put their hands to the same: the copy of which their articles and answers, being all in one form and effect, here followeth.

The Copy of the ARTICLES objected against THO|MAS O••MOND, WILLIAM BAMFORD, and NICH|OLAS CHAMBERLAIN.

FIRST, That thou Thomas Osmond, fuller, wast and art of the parish of Coxhall, within

the diocese of London, and thou hast not believed nor dost believe, that there is here in the earth one catholic and universal whole church, which doth hold and believe all the faith and religion of Christ, and all necessary articles and sacraments of the same.

2. ITEM, That thou hast not believed nor dost believe, that thou art necessarily bounden under the pain of the damnation of thy soul, to give full faith and credence unto the said catholic and uni|versal church, and to the faith and religion of the same in all necessary points of the said faith and religion, without doubting or wavering in the said faith and religion, or in any part thereof.

3. ITEM, That thou hast not believed that the faith and religion, which both the church of Rome, Italy, Spain, England, France, Ireland, Scotland, and all other churches in Europe, being true mem|bers and parts of the said catholic and universal church, do believe and teach, is both agreeing with the faith and religion of Christ, and also is the very true faith and religion which all christian people ought to believe, observe, follow, and keep; but contrariwise, thou hast believed and dost be|lieve, that that faith and religion, which the said church of Rome, and all the other churches afore|said, have heretofore believed, and do believe, is false, erroneous, and naught, and in no wise ought to be believed, observed, kept, and followed of any christian person.

4. ITEM, That albeit it be true, that in sacra|ment of the altar there is in substance the very body and blood of our Saviour Christ under the forms of bread and wine; and albeit that it be so believed, taught and preached undoubtedly in the said church of Rome, and all other churches aforesaid, yet thou hast not so believed, nor dost so believe, but contrariwise, thou hast believed, and dost believe firmly and stedfastly, that there is not in the said sacrament of the altar, under the said forms of bread and wine, the very substance of Christ's body and blood, but that there is only the substance of material and common bread and wine, with the forms, thereof, and that the said material and com|mon bread and wine are only the signs and tokens of Christ's body and blood, and are by faith received only for a remembrance of Christ's body and blood, and are by faith to be received only for a remem|brance of Christ's passion and death, without any such substance of Christ's body and blood at all.

5. ITEM, That thou hast believed and taught, and hast openly spoke and defended, and so dost believe, think, maintain, and defend, that the very true receiving and eating of Christ's body and blood, is only to take material and common bread, and to break it and distribute it among the people, remembering thereby the passion and death of Christ only.

6. ITEM, That thou hast likewise believed, thought, and spoken, that the mass, now used in the realm of England, and other the churches afore|said, is abominable and naught, and full of idolatry, and is of the ordinance of the pope, and not of the institution of Christ, and hath no goodness in it, saving the Gloria in Excelsis, the epistle and gospel, and therefore thou hast not, nor wilt come to be present at mass, nor receive the sacrament of the altar, nor any other sacrament of the church, as they are now used in the realm of England, &c.

7. ITEM, That thou hast in times past believed, and yet dost now believe, that auricular confession is not necessary to be made unto the priest, but is a thing superfluous, void, and naught, only to be made to God and to none other person. And likewise thou hast condemned as superfluous, vain, and unprofitable, all the ceremonies of the church, and the service of the same, and hast said that no service in the church ought to be said but in the English tongue, and if it be otherwise, it is unlaw|ful and naught.

8. ITEM, That thou being notoriously and openly suspected for an heretic, and a person culpable in the prem••ses, wast of late called and brought before the earl of Oxford, and Mr. Philip Paris, and there wast charged with the said heresies, and wouldst not come to the church to be conf••ss••d, and receive the said sacrament as other christian people did, but utterly didst refuse to do the same, thou w••st by the said earl of Oxford, and Mr. Phi|lip Paris, sent up by a constable unto m•• bishop of

London, and was by them denounced, detected, and put up to me as an heretic and misbelieving per|son.

9. ITEM, That thou hast known and believed, thou dost know and believe, or at least thou hast credibly heard reported, spoken, and said, that all and all manner of persons, which do teach, preach, or hold any thing concerning the sacraments of the church, or any of the articles of faith, otherwise than is found already discussed and determined by our mother the holy church, or doth call into doubt or question that thing which is already decided or determined by the church, or that willingly and wittingly do utter, openly or privily, any slander|ous or blasphemous words concerning the said sacraments or any of them, or that do preach, teach, or keep any sect or kind of heresy against the wholsome doctrine of the church, and do wittingly, or obstinately defend the sect or kind of heresy, are by the canons of the whole and universal ca|tholic church, and also by the ecclesiastical laws of this church of England, by their so doing, accursed with that curse, which doth separate them from the entry into the church, from the receiving of the sacraments, and from the company of faithful people, and are (in continuing in this said sect and heresy) to be pronounced, declared, and taken for heretics, and to be delivered to the secular power, and by the laws temporal of this realm of England, and the custom of the same, to be by the said secu|lar power put to death, and burnt for this said sect and heresy.

10. ITEM, That thou by reason of the premises wast and art to be pronounced, taken, had, repu|ted, and judged for a manifest and open, wilful and obstinate heretic, for a wicked and cursed per|son, and to be punished accordingly for the same, according to the said canon laws, usages, and customs.

The ANSWERS of THOMAS O••MOND, WILLIAM BAMFORD, and NICHOLAS CHAMBERLAIN, to the aforesaid ARTICLES.

TO the first they answered and confessed the same to be true, except that they do believe that there is here in earth one catholic and whole church, and that the same church doth hold and believe, as is contained in this article.

TO the second they answer and believe the said article not to be true; for they say, that they have and do believe that they are necessarily bounden, under pain of damnation of their soul, to give full faith and credence unto the said catholic church, and to the faith and religion of the same, in all necessary points of the same faith and religion, with|out wavering or doubting in any part thereof.

TO the third they answer, That the church of Rome, and other churches mentioned in this arti|cle, be not true members and parts (as they be used in faith and religion) of the catholic church of Christ, and that the faith and religion used in the said churches, is not agreeable with the church of Christ, but is false and erroneous.

TO the fourth they answer and say, That how|soever the said churches of Rome and others of Christendom have and do believe touching the sacrament of the altar, yet they do believe that in the sacrament, under the forms of bread and wine, there is not the very substance of Christ's body and blood, but there is only the substance of material bread and wine, and that the same material bread and wine be only the signs and tokens of Christ's body and blood, and are to be received only for a remembrance of Christ's passion and death, with|out any substance of Christ's body and blood at all.

TO the fifth article they answer, That the true receiving and eating of Christ's body, according to Christ's institution, is to take, distribute, and eat material bread, and thereby to remember the pas|sion and death of Christ, and so receive by faith (as they believe) Christ's body and blood, and not otherwise.

TO the sixth they answer, The same to be true in every part thereof, except that over and besides the Gloria in Excelsis, the epistle and gospel, which they believe to be good, they believe the pater-nos|ter and creed used in the mass, to be also good.

TO the seventh they answer and confess, That auricular confession is not necessary to be made to

the priest; nevertheless they think it is necessary to go to such a priest as is liable to give good coun|sel; and that for counsel only, and not otherwise. And as concerning the ceremonies of the church, they answer the same ••o be vain and unprofitable. No service in the church ought to be said, but only in the English tongue.

TO the eighth they answer, and believe the same to be true in every part thereof, except that they do not believe that they be heretics, or suspected of heresy.

TO the ninth Osmond and Bamford answered, That they referred themselves to the said laws mentioned in that article; but Chamberlain made no answer at all to this article.

TO the tenth, the said Osmond and Bamford answered and said, That by reason of their belief before by them confessed, they are not to be repu|ted, taken, or adjudged for wilful and obstinate heretics, nor to be punished therefore, as is decla|red in that article. The other answered nothing

REMARKS upon the aforesaid ARTICLES.

THESE articles, in the same form and manner of words, are commonly objected to all others that follow after, with the same answers thereunto annexed. In which articles thou mayest note, reader, the crafty and subtle handling of these lawyers and registers, who so deceitfully frame their articles and positions, that unless a man do advisedly consider them, it is hard for a simple man to answer to them, but he shall be ensnared and entangled. So they paint their church with such a vis••ge of universal, holy, catholic, as it should seem, he that denieth Rome, denieth the holy church of Christ here on earth. Likewise in exa|mining them, and especially the simple sort in the matter of the sacrament, to the material bread in the sacrament they put the word [only] very cap|tiously and fraudulently, to take them at the worst advantage, making the people believe that they take the holy sacrament to be no better than only common bread: when they do not so, but make a difference between the same, both in the use, ho|nour, and name thereof.

AGAIN, when the examinates hold only against the erroneous points of Romish religion, these bishops in their interrogatories give out the matter so generally, as though the said examinates in ge|neral spake against all the articles taught in Rome, Spain, England, France, Scotland, &c.

MOREOVER, concerning Latin ••ervice, in such crafty form of words they propound their article, that it might appear to the people these men do deny any service to be lawful in any place, country, or language, but only in English.

AND as these articles are craftily, captiously, and deceitfully in form of words devised by the bishops and their notaries; so the answers again to the same be no less subtilly framed, and after the most odious manner put down in the name of the examinates, which being thus read unto them, without further advice they were constrained upon a sudden to subscribe the same with their hands. Whereby if any word escaped their hand, perad|venture not considerately subscribed, there the pa|pists took advantage against them, to defame them, and to bring them into hatred with the people.

THESE articles thus propounded and answered, they were dismissed till the afternoon. At which time they did again appear, and there were exami|ned and persuaded by fair and flattering speeches, as well by the bishop as others his assistance, to recant and revoke their opinions, who notwith|standing remained constant and firm; and there|fore, after the common usage of their ecclesiastical laws, were sent away again until the next day, being Saturday the 18th of May. Then in the forenoon, the bishop using his accustomed manner of proceeding, which he had used before, as well with them as with others, did likewise dismiss them, and at last in the afternoon did condemn them as heretics, and so delivered them to the sheriffs, in whose custody they remained till they were delivered to the sheriff of Essex, and by him were executed, Chamberlain at Colchester, the 14th of June; Thomas Osmond at Maningtree, and William Bamford, al••as But••er, at Harwich, the 15th of June.

CHAP. X. The Life, Acts, and Martyrdom of the Rev. Mr. JOHN BRADFORD, who, together with Mr. JOHN LEAP, was burned in Smithfield, in the bloody Reign of Queen MARY I.

The Life and Acts of the Rev. Mr. JOHN BRADFORD.

MR. John Bradford was born at Manchester in Lancashire; his parents brought him up in learning from his infancy, until he attained such knowledge in the Latin tongue, and skill in writing that he was able to gain his own living in some honest condition. Then he became servant to sir John Harrington, knight, who in the great affair of king Henry VIII▪ and Edward VI. which he had in hand when he was treasurer of the king's camps and buildings, at divers times in Boulognois, had such experience of Mr. Bradford's activity in writ|ing, his expertness in the art of auditors, as also his faithful trustiness, that not only in those affairs, but in many others of his private business, he trust|ed Mr. Bradford before others.

MR. Bradford continued several years in an ho|nest and thriving way, after the course of this world, if his mind could have so liked, or had been given to the world as many others are. But the Lord which had elected him unto a better function, and pre-ordained him to preach the gospel of Christ, called this chosen servant to the understanding and partaking of the same gospel. In which call he was so truly taug••t▪ that forthwith his effectual call was perceived by the fruits. For then he forsook his worldly affairs and forwardness in worldly wealth, and after a just account given to his master of all his doings, he departed from him, and with mar|vellous favour to further the kingdom of God by the ministry of his holy word, he gave himself wholly to the study of the holy scriptures. And the better to accomplish his design, he departed from the Temple at London, and went to the uni|versity of Cambridge, to learn by God's law how to further the building of the Lord's temple. In Cambridge his diligence in stu••y, his prosi••ing in knowledge, and pious conversation, so pleased all men, that within a few years after he had been there, the university gave him the degree of master of arts.

IMMEDIATELY after, the master and fellows of Pembroke Hall, gave him a fellowship in their col|lege with them: and that good man, Martin Bucer, so liked him, that he held him not only most dear unto him▪ but also oftentimes exhorted him to be|stow his talent in preaching. To which Mr. Brad|ford always answered, that he was unable to serve in that office through want of learning. To which Bucer was wont to reply, saying, If thou hast not fine wheat bread, yet give the poor people barley bread, or whatsoever else the Lord hath committed unto thee. And while Mr. Bradford was thus per|suaded to enter into the ministry, Dr. Ridley, that worthy bishop of London, and glorious martyr of Christ, according to the order that then was in the church of England, called him to take the degree of a deacon. Which order, because it was not without some abuse, as to which Mr. Bradford would not consent, and the bishop perceiving that he was willing to enter into the ministry, was con|tent to ordain him a deacon without any abuse, even as he desired. This being done, he obtained for him a licence to preach, and gave him a prebend in his cathedral church of St. Paul's.

IN this preaching office Mr. Bradford diligently laboured for the space of three years. Sharply he reproved sin, sweetly he preached Christ crucified, ably he disproved heresies and errors, earnestly he persuaded to godly life. After the death of blessed king Edward VI. when queen Mary had gotten the crown, Mr. Bradford still continued diligent in preaching, till he was unjustly dep••••••ed of both his office and liberty by the queen and her council. To the doing whereof, because they had no just cause, they took occasion to add this injury for such an act, as among Turks and Infide•••• would have been re|warded

with thankfulness, and with great favour accepted, as indeed it did no less deserve.

THE fact was this: The 13th of August, in the first year of the reign of queen Mary, Mr. Bourne, then bishop of Bath, made a seditious sermon at Paul's Cross in London, as partly is declared before, to set popery abroad in such sort, that it moved the people to great indignation, being almost ready to pull him out of the pulpit. Neither could the re|verence of the place, nor the presence of Bishop Bonner, who was then his master, nor yet the com|mand of the mayor of London, whom the people ought to have obeyed, stay their rage▪ but the more they spake, the more the people were incensed. At length, Mr. Bourne seeing the people in such a mood, and himself in such peril, (whereof he was sufficiently warned by the hurling of a drawn dagger at him as he stood in the pulpit) and that he was hindred from ending his sermon, fearing lest (against his will) he should there end his wretched life, de|sired Mr. Bradford, who stood in the pulpit behind him, to come forth, and to stand in his place and speak to the people. Good Mr. Bradford at his request was content, and there spake to the people of godly and quiet obedience. Whom as soon as the people heard begin to speak unto them, they were so glad, that they gave a great shout, and cried, Bradford, Bradford, God save thy life, Bradford: well declaring not only what affection they bare un|to him, but also what regard they gave unto his words. For after he had begun to preach a little to them, and to exhort them unto quietness and pa|tience, the tumult soon ceased, and in the end each man departed quietly to his own house. Yet in the mean season, (for it was a long time before so great a multitude could all depart) Mr. Bourne thought▪ and truly, himself not full sure of his life till he were safely housed, notwithstanding that the mayor and sheriffs of London were there at hand to help him: wherefore he desired Mr. Bradford not to depart from him till he were in safety; which Mr. Bradford according to his promise performed. For while the mayor and sheriffs did lead Mr. Bourne to the school-master's house, which is next to the pulpit▪ Mr. Bradford went at his back, sha|dowing him from the people with his gown, and so set him safe.

LET the reader now consider the peril of Mr. Bourne, the charity of Mr. Bradford, and the headi|ness of the multitude, and also the grudging minds of some, who yet still there remained behind, great|ly grieved in their minds, to see that so good a man should save the life of such a popish priest, so impu|dently and openly railing▪ against king Edward. Among whom one gentleman said these words: "Ah, Bradford, Bradford, thou sa••est him that will burn thee. I give thee his life: if it were not for thee, I would, I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thee, run him through with my sword." Thus Bourne for that time, through Bradford's means, escaped bodily death: but God hath his judgment to be shewed in the time appointed.

THE same Sunday in the afternoon, Mr. Brad|ford preached at Bow church in Cheapside, and ••••|proved the people sharply for their seditious misde|meanor. After this, he abode still in London with an innocent conscience, to try what would come of his just doing.

WITHIN three days after, he was sent for to the Tower of London, where the queen then was, to appear before the council. There was he charged with this act of saving of Bourne, which act they there called seditious, and also objected against him for preaching, and so by them he was committed first to the Tower, then unto other prisons, out of which neither his innocency, piety, nor charitable dealing could purchase to him liberty of body, till by death (which he suffered for Christ's cause) he obtained the heavenly liberty, of which neither pope nor papist shall ever deprive him. From the Tower he came to the King's-Bench in Southwark; and after his condemnation, he was sent to the Compter in the Poultry in London: in which two places, for the time he did remain prisoner, he preached twice a-day continually, unless sickness hindred him; where also the sacrament was often admini|stered; and through his means (the keepers so well did bear with him) such resort of good folks were daily at his lecture, and the administration of the sacrament, that commonly his chamber was well nigh filled therewith. Preaching, reading, and praying, was all his whole life. He did not eat above one meal a day, which was but very little when he took it; and his continual study was upon

his knees. In the midst of dinner he used 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to muse with himself, having his h••t over his eyes, from whence came commonly plenty of 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ Very gentle he was to man and child, and in so good credit with his keeper, that at his desire in an evening (being prisoner in the King's-Bench, South|wark) he had licen••••, upon his promise to return again that night, to go into London without any keeper, to visit one that was sick, lying by the Still|yard. Neither did he fail his promise, but return|ed to his prison again, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 preventing his hour, than breaking his fidelity: so constant was he in word and in deed.

HE was somewhat tall and slender of body, of a faint sanguine colour, with a dark brown beard. He slept not commonly above four hours in the night; and in his bed, till sleep came, his book went not out of his hand. His chief recreation was in no gaming or other pastime, but only in honest company, and comely talk, wherein he would spend a little time after dinner, at the table, and so to prayer and his book again. He counted that hour not well spent, wherein he did not some good, either with his pen, study, or in exhorting of others, &c. He was not sparing of his purse, but would liberally give of what he had to his fellow-prisoners. And commonly once a week he visited the thieves, pick-pockets, and such others that were with him in prison where he lay on the other side, unto whom he would give pious exhortation, to learn the amendment of their lives by their trouble, and after that so done, distribute among them some portion of money to their comfort.

WHILE he was in the King's-bench, and Mr. Saunder's in the Marshalsea, both prisoners, on the backside of these two prisons they met many times, and conferred together when they would: so mer|cifully did the Lord work for them, even in the midst of their trouble; and the said Bradford was so trusted by his keeper, and had such liberty in the backside, that there was no day, but that he might have easily have escaped away, if he would; but the Lord had another work to do for him. In the summer time, while he was in the King's-bench, he had liberty of his keeper to ride into Oxfordshire, to a merchant's house of his acquaintance, and horse and all things prepared for him for that journey, and the party in readiness that should ride with him: but God prevented him by sickness that he went not at all.

ONE of his old friends and acquaintance came unto him whilst he was a prisoner, and asked him, if he sued to get him out, what then he would do, or whither he would go? Unto whom he made answer, at not caring whether he went out or no: but if he did, he said he would marry, and abide still in England secretly, teaching the people as the time would suffer him, and occupy himself that way. He was had in so great reverence and admiration with all good men, that a multitude, which never knew him but by fame, greatly lamented his death: yea, and a number also of the papists themselves wished heartily his life. There were few days in which he was thought not to spend some tears be|fore he went to bed, neither was there ever any prisoner with him, but greatly profited by his company.

ONE circumstance, which ought not to be omit|ted, is the following. Bishop Farrar being prisoner in the King's-bench, as before you have heard, was persuaded by the papists in the end of Lent, to re|ceive the sacrament at Easter in one kind, who after much persuasion yielded to them, and promised so to do. Then, (so it happened by God's provi|dence) the Easter-eve, the day before he should have done it, Mr. Bradford was brought prisoner to the King's-Bench, where the Lord making him his instrument, Mr. Bradford only was the means that the said bishop Farrar revoked his promise and word, and would never after yield to be spotted with that p••pistical pitch; so effectually the Lord wrought by this worthy servant of his.

THE night before he was had to Newgate, which was the Saturday night, he was sore troubled divers times in his sleep by dreams, how the chain for his burning was brought to the Compter-gate, and how the next day being Sunday he should be had to Newgate, and on the Monday after burned in Smithfield, as indeed came to pass accordingly, as shall hereafter be shewed. Now he being vexed oftentimes in this sort with these dreams, about three o'clock in the morning he awaked him that lay with him, and told him his unquiet ••••eep, and

what he was troubled withal. Then after a little talk, Mr. Bradford rose out of the bed, and gave himself to his old exercise of reading and praying, as always he had used before: and at dinner accord|ing to his accustomed manner he did eat his meat, and was very merry, no body being with him from morning till night but he that lay with him, with whom he had many times on that day godly dis|course of death, of the kingdom of heaven, and of the ripeness of sin in that time.

IN the afternoon as they two walked together in the keeper's chamber, suddenly the keeper's wife came up as one half amazed, and seeming much troubled, being almost out of breath, said, Oh Mr. Bradford, I come to bring you heavy news. What is that? said he. To-morrow, said she, you must be burned; and your chain is now a-buying, and you must soon go to Newgate. With that Mr. Bradford put off his cap, and lifting up his eyes to heaven, said, I thank God for it; I have looked for the same a long time, and therefore it cometh not now to me suddenly, but as a thing waited for every day and hour; the Lord make me worthy thereof! And so thanking her for her kindness, departed up into his chamber, where he continued in private prayer for some time; which done, he called to his friend in the same chamber, and took divers writings and papers, and shewed him his mind in those things what he would have done; and after they had thus spent the afternoon, at night half a dozen of his friends came to him, with whom he spent all the evening in prayer and other good exercises.

A little before he went out of the Compter, he made a notable prayer of his farewel, with such plenty of tears, and abundant spirit of prayer, that it ravished the minds of the hearers. Also when he shifted himself with a clean shirt that was made for his burning (by Mr Walter Marlar's wife, who was a good nurse to him) he made such a prayer of the wedding garment, that some of those that were pre|sent were struck with admiration, so that their eyes were as thoroughly occupied in looking on him, as their ears gave place to hear his prayer. At his departing out of his chamber, he made likewise a prayer, and give money to every servant and officer in the house, with exhortation to them to fear and serve God, continually labouring to eschew all man|ner of evil. Then being beneath in the court, all 〈◊〉〈◊〉 prisoners cried out to him and bade him farewel, a•• the rest of the house had done before with weep|ing eyes.

THE time they carried him to Newgate was about 11 or 12 o'clock at night, when it was thought none would be stirring abroad; and yet, contrary to their expectation, there was in Cheapside and other pla|ces (between the Compter and Newgate) a great multitude of people that came to see him, who most gently bade him farewel, praying for him with most lamentable and pitiful tears; and he again as gent|ly bade them farewel, praying most heartily for them and their welfare. Now whether it were a command from the queen and her council, or from Bonner and his adherents, or whether it were mer|rily devised by the lord mayor, aldermen, and she|riffs of London, I cannot tell; but a great 〈◊〉〈◊〉 there was over night about the city by several, that Mr. Bradford should be burnt the next day in Smithfield, by four o'clock in the morning, before it should be greatly known to any. In which ru|mour many heads had divers minds; some think|ing the fear of the people to be the cause thereof: others thought, that it was because the papists judged his death would convert many to the truth, and give a great overthrow to their kingdom. So some thought one thing, and some another, that no just conjecture of the cause could be known that ever I heard yet. But this was certain, the people prevented the device suspected: for the next day, at the said hour of four o'clock in the morning, there was such a multitude of men and women, that many being in admiration thereat, thought it was not possible that they could have notice of his death, being so great a number in such short time, unless it were by the singular providence of Al|mighty God.

WELL, this took no effect as the people thought, for it was nine o'clock in the morning before Mr. Bradford was brought into Smithfield; who, in go|ing from Newgate thitherward, espied a friend of his whom he loved, standing on one side of the way, unto whom he reached his hand over the people, and plucked him to him, and delivered to him from his head his velvet night cap, and also his handker|chief, with other things. And after a little private

talk with him, they parted, when immediately came to him a brother in law of his, called Roger Beswick, who as soon as he had taken the said Mr. Bradford by the hand, one of the sheriffs of London, Mr. Wood|rofe, came with his staff and brake the said Roger Beswick's head, that the blood ran about his shoul|ders. Which sight Mr. Bradford beholding with grief, bade his brother farewel, desiring him to commend him to his mother, and the rest of his friends, and speedily to go to some surgeon; so they parting, had little or no talk together. Then was he led forth to Smithfield, with a great com|pany of armed men to guard him thither, as the like was not seen at any man's burning: for in every corner of Smithfield there were some, be|sides those that stood about the stake. Mr. Brad|ford being come to the place, fell flat to the ground, secretly making his prayers to Almighty God. Then rising again, and putting off his clothes unto his shirt, he went to the st••ke, and there suffered with a young man of twenty years of age, joyfully and constantly, whose name was John Leaf. Con|cerning the manner and order of whose burning, more shall be said (God willing) hereafter. In the mean time we will shew forth the sundry examina|tions, conflicts, and conferences between Mr. Brad|ford and his adversaries during his imprisonment, which was in all two years l••cking one month and a half. Which examinations here follow.

IT was a little above declared, that John Brad|ford, within three days after the sermon of Mr. Bourne, was by order of the council committed to the Tower, where he remained from the month of August, 1553, to the 22d of January, 1555, upon which day he was called out to examination before Stephen, bishop of Winchester, and other commis|sioners. The effect of which examination and com••munication which passed between him and them, proceeded in manner as followeth.

The First Examination of Mr. JOHN BRADFORD before the LORD CHANCELLOR, and others of the Council.

AFTER the lord chancellor, and the rest of the queen's council in commission with him, had ended their talk with Farrar, late bishop of St. Da|vid's, the under-marshal of the King's-Bench was commanded to bring in John Bradford; who being come into the presence of the council sitting at a table, kneeled down on his knee; but the lord chancellor immediately commanded him to stand up, and so he did.

WHEN he was risen, the lord chancellor spake thus to him in effect: That he had been a long time justly imprisoned for his seditious behaviour at Paul's-cross, the 13th of August, in the year 1553, for his false preaching and arrogancy, taking upon him to preach without authority. But now, said he, the time of mercy is come, and therefore the queen's highness, minding to offer unto you mercy, hath by us sent for you, to declare and give the same, if so be you will with us return: and if you will do as we have done, you shall find as we have found, I warrant you. This was the sum of his words, and in manner the same words which he spake.

TO these words Mr. John Bradford spake (after reverent obeisance made) in this manner: My lord and lords all, I confess that I have been long im|prisoned, and (with humble reverence be it spoken) unjustly, for that I did nothing seditiously, falsely, or arrogantly, in word or fact, by preaching or otherwise, but rather sought truth, peace, and all godly quietness, as an obedient and faithful subject, both in going about to save the bishop of Bath now, then Mr. Bourne, the preacher at the cross, and in preaching for quietness accordingly.

AT these words, or rather before he had fully finished, the said lord chancellor something snuffed, and declared it to be a lye: for, said he, the fact was seditious, as you my lord of London can bear witness.

Bonner.

You say true, my lord, I saw him with my own eyes, when he took upon him to rule and lead the people impudently, thereby declaring that he was the author of the sedition.

Brad.

My lords, notwithstanding my lord bish|op's seeing and saying, yet the truth I have told, as one day the Lord God Almighty shall reveal to all the world, when we shall all come to appear before him: in the mean season, because I cannot be be|lieved by you, I must and am ready to suffer, as now

your sayings be; wh••••••oever God shall license you to do unto me.

Lord Chan.

I know thou hast a glorious tongue, and goodly shews thou makest; but all is lies thou speakest: And again, I have not forgot how stubborn thou wast when thou wast before us in the Tower, whereupon thou wast committed to prison concern|ing religion▪ I have not forgotten thy behaviour and talk, for which cause thou hast been kept in prison, as one that would have done more hurt than I will speak of.

Brad.

My lord, as I said, I say again, that I stand as before you, so before God, and one day we shall all stand before him: the truth then will be the truth, though now ye will not so take it. Yea, my lord, I dare say, that my lord of Bath, Mr. Bourne, will witness with me, that I sought his safe|guard with the peril of mine own life, I thank God therefore.

Bonner.

That is not true: for I myself did see thee take upon thee too much.

Brad.

No, I took nothing upon me undesired, and that of Mr. Bourne himself, as, if he were pre|sent, I dare say he would affirm. For he desired me both to help him, to pacify the people, and also not to leave him till he was in safety. And as for my behaviour in the Tower, and talk before your honours, if I did or said any thing that did not be|seem me, if your lordships would tell me wherein it was, I should and would presently make you answer.

Lord Chan.

Well, to leave this matter: how say'st thou now? wilt thou return again, and do as we have, and thou shalt receive the queen's mercy and pardon.

Brad.

My lord, I desire mercy with God's mer|cy, but mercy with God's wrath, God keep me from: although (I thank God therefore) my con|science doth not accuse, that I did speak any thing why I should need to receive the queen's mercy or pardon. For all that ever I did or spake, was both agreeable to God's laws, and the laws of the realm at that present, and did tend much to quietness.

Lord Chan.

Well, if thou make this babbling rolling in thy eloquent tongue, and yet being alto|gether ignorant and vain-glorious, and wilt not receive mercy offered to thee, know for truth that the queen is minded to make a riddance of all such as thou art.

Brad.

The Lord before whom I stand, as well as before you, knoweth what vain-glory I have sought, and seek in this behalf: his mercy I desire, and also would be glad of the queen's favour, to live as a subject without a clog of conscience. But otherwise the Lord's mercy is better to me than life. And I know to whom I have committed my life, even into his hands which will keep it, so that no man may take it away before it be his plea|sure. There are twelve hours in the day, and as long as they last, so long shall no man have power thereon. Therefore his good will be done; life in his displeasure is worse than death, and death with his true favour, is true life.

Lord Chan.

I know well enough, that we shall have glorious talk enough of thee: be sure, that as thou hast deceived the people with false and devilish doctrine, so shalt thou receive.

Brad.

I have not deceived the people, nor taught any other doctrine, than by God's grace I am, and hope shall be ready to confirm with my blood. And as for the devilishness and falseness in the doctrine, I would be sorry you could so prove it.

Durham.

Why, tell me, what say you by the ministration of the communion, as now you know it is?

Brad.

My lord, here I must desire of your lord|ship and of all your honours a question, before I dare make you an answer to any interrogatory or question, wherewith you now begin. I have been six times sworn that I shall in no case consent to the practising of any jurisdiction, or any authority on the bishop of Rome's behalf within this realm of England. Now, before God▪ I humbly pray your honours to tell me whether you ask me this question by his authority, or no? If you do, I dare not, nor may answer you any thing in his authority,

which you shall demand of me, except I would be forsworn▪ which God forbid,

Secretary Bourne.

Hast thou been sworn six times? what office hast thou borne?

Brad.

I was thrice sworn in Cambridge, when I was admitted master of arts▪ when I was admitted fellow of Pembroke-hall, and when I was there, the visitors came thither, and sware tho university Again, I was sworn w••en I entered into the minis|try, when I had a prebend given me, and when I was sworn to serve the king a little before his death.

Lord Chan.

Tush, Herod's oaths a man should make no conscience at.

Brad.

But, my lord, these were no Herod's oaths, no unlawful oaths, but oaths according to God's word, as you yourself have well affirmed in your book, "Of true obedience."

Mr. Rock.

My lords,

(said another of the coun|cil that stood by the table, Mr. Rochester I think)

I never knew wherefore this man was in prison be|fore now: but I see well that it had not been good that this man had been abroad: what the cause was that he was put in prison, I know not: but I now well know that not without a cause he was, and is to be kept in prison.

Sec. Bourne.

Yea, it was reported this parlia|ment time by the earl of Derby, that he hath done more hurt by letters, and exhorting those that have come to him in religion, than ever he did abroad by preaching. In his letters he curseth all that teach any false doctrine, (for so he calleth that which is not according to that he taught) and most heartily exhorteth them to whom he writeth to continue still in that they have received by him, and such like as he is. All which words several of the council af|firmed. Whereunto the said Mr. Bourne added, saying, How say you, sir, have you not thus sediti|ously written and exhorted the people?

Brad.

I have not written, nor spoken any thing seditiously, neither (I thank God therefore) have I admitted any seditious thought▪ no•• tru••t ever shall do.

Sec. Bourne.

Yea, thou hast written letters.

Lord Chan.

Why speakest thou not? Hast thou not written as he saith?

Brad.

What I have written, I have written.

Southwell.

Lord God, what an arrogant and stubborn boy is this, that thus stoutly and da••y|ingly behaveth himself before the queen's council! Whereat one looked upon another with disdainful countenances.

Brad.

My lords and masters, the Lord God which is, and will be judge of us all, knoweth, that as I am certain I stand now before his Majesty, so with reverence in his fight I stand before you▪ and unto you accordingly in words and gesture I desire to behave myself. If you otherwise take it, I doubt not but God in his time will reveal it▪ in the mean season, I shall suffer with all due obedience your sayings and doings too, I hope.

Lord Chan.

These be gay and glorious words of reverence, but as in all other things, so herein also thou doest nothing but lye.

Brad.

Well, I would God the author of truth, and abhorrer of lies, would pull my tongue out of my head before you all, and shew a terrible judge|ment on me here present, if I have purposed, or do purpose to lye before you, whatsoever you shall ask me.

Lord Chan.

Why then dost thou not answer? Hast thou written such letters as here are objected against thee?

Brad.

As I said, my lord, what I have written. I have written: I stand now before you, which either can lay my letters to my charge, or no: if you can lay any thing to my charge that I have written, if I deny it, I am then a liar.

Lord Chan.

We shall never have done with thee,

I perceive now: be short, be short, wilt thou have mercy?

Brad.

I pray God give me his mercy, and if therewith you will extend your's, I will not refuse it, but otherwise I will have none.

HERE now was much ado, one speaking this, and another that of his arrogancy, in refusing the queen's pardon, which she so lovingly did offer unto him; whereto Mr. Bradford answered thus:

MY lords, if I may live as a quiet subject with|out clog of conscience, I shall heartily thank you for your pardon; if otherwise I behave myself, then I am in danger of the law: in the mean season I ask no more than the benefit of a subject till I be convicted of transgression. If I cannot have this, as hitherto I have not had, God's good will be done.

UPON these words my lord chancellor began a long process of the false doctrine wherewith the people were deceived in the days of king Edward, and so turned the end of his talk to Bradford, say|ing, How say'st thou?

Brad.

My lord, the doctrine taught in king Edward's days was God's pure religion: which as I then believed, so do I now more believe it than ever I did, and therein I am more confirmed, and ready to declare it by God's grace even as he will, to the world, than I was when I first came into prison.

Durham.

What religion mean you in king Ed|ward's days? What year of his reign.

Brad.

Forsooth, even the same year, my lord, that the king died, and I was a preacher. Here wrote secretary Bourne I know not what.

NOW after a little pausing, my lord chancellor began again to declare, that the doctrine taught in king Edward's days was heresy, using for proba|tion and demonstration thereof, no scripture, nor reason, but this; that it ended with treason and rebellion, so that (said he) the very end were e|nough to p••ove that doctrine to be naught.

Brad

Ah my lord, that you could enter into God's sanctuary, and mark the end of this present doctrine that you now so magnify!

Lord Chan.

What meanest thou by that? I am of opinion we shall have a snatch of rebellion even now.

Brad.

My lord, I mean no such end you would gather: I mean an end which no man seeth, but such as enter into God's sanctuary. If a man look on present things, he will soon deceive himself.

HERE my lord chancellor again offered mercy, and Bradford answered as before: Mercy with God's mercy should be welcome, but otherwise he would have none. Whereupon the lord chancellor rang a little bell, to call in some body: for there were few present besides those before named, and the bishop of Worcester. Now when one was come in; it is best, said Mr. secretary Bourne, that you give the keeper a charge of this fellow. So the under marshal was called in.

Lord Chan.

You shall take this man to you, and keep him close without conference with any man, but by your knowledge, and suffer him not to write any letters, &c. for he is of another manner of charge to you now than he was before. And so they departed. Bradford looking as chear|fully as any man 〈◊〉〈◊〉 do, declaring the••eby even a desire to give his life for the co••firmation of his faith and doctrine.

The SECOND EXAMINATION of the Rev. Mr. JOHN BRADFORD, in St. MARY 〈◊〉〈◊〉 CHURCH, before the Lord Chancellor, and other Bishop's▪ January 29, 1555.

AFTER the excommunication of Mr. John Rogers, Mr. John Bardford was called in, and standing before the lord chancellor and other bishops, the said lord chancellor spake thus in eff••ct.

Lord Chan.

Whereas before the 2••d of Ja|nuary the said Bradford was called before th••••

(said he)

and they offered unto him the queen's

pardon, although he had contemned the same; and further said, that he would stiffly and stoutly maintain and defend the erroneous doctrine taught in the days of king Edward VI. yet in consideration that the queen's highness was wonderfully merciful, they thought good to offer the same mercy again, b••fore it was too late: therefore advise you well, said he, there is yet space and grace before we so proceed, that you be committed to the secular power, as we must, and will do, if you will not follow the example of Mr. Barlow, and Mr. Cardmaker, whom he there commended, adding many arguments to induce the said Mr. Bradford to yield to the religion then set forth.

AFTER the lord chancellor's long talk, Mr. Bradford began to speak in this manner: My lord, and my lords all, as I now stand in your sight before you, so I humbly beseech your honours to consider, that you sit in the seat of the Lord, who (as David doth witness) is in the congregation of judges, and sitteth in the midst of them judging: and as you would have your place to be by us taken as God's place, so demonstrate yourselves to follow him in your sitting; that is, seek no guiltless blood, neither hunt by questions to bring into a snare them which are out of the same. At this present I stand before you, guilty or guiltless, then proceed and give sentence accordingly: if guiltless, then give me the benefit of a subject, which hitherto I could not ••ave.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 the lord chancellor replied, and said, that the said Bradford began with a true sentence, That the Lord is in the midst of them that judge. But, said he, this and all thy gesture declareth hypocrisy and vain glory. And further he endeavoured to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 himself, that he sought not guiltless blood, and so began a long process how that Bradford's 〈◊〉〈◊〉 at St Paul's Cross was persumptuous and arrogant▪ and declared a taking upon him to lead the p••ople, which could not but turn to much, 〈…〉〈…〉 that thou

(speaking to Bradford)

〈…〉〈…〉 story and stout in religion at that present 〈…〉〈…〉 which as thou wert then committed to priso••, so 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thou hast been kept in prison, where 〈…〉〈…〉 letters to the great hurt of the 〈…〉〈…〉 as was credibly declared by t••e 〈◊〉〈◊〉 o•• D••••by in the parliament-house. And to this he added, that the said Mr. Bradford, did stubbornly behave himself the last time he was before them: and therefore not for any other thing now I demand of thee, said he, but of and for thy doctrine and religion.

Brad.

My lord, where you accuse me of hy|pocrisy and vain-glory, I must and will leave it to the Lord's declaration, who will open your's and my truth and hearty meanings: in the mean season, I will content myself with the testimony of my own conscience, which if it yield to hypocrisy, could not but have God to be my foe also; and so both God and man were against me. And as for my fact at St. Paul's Cross, and behaviour before you at the Tower, I doubt not but God will re|veal it to my comfort. For if over I did any thing which God used to public benefit, I think that my deed was one, and yet for it I have been and am kept a long time in prison. And as for letters and religion, I answer as I did the last time I was before you.

Lord Chan.

There didst thou say stubbornly and saucily, that thou wouldst manly maintain the erroneous doctrine in king Edward's days.

Brad.

My lord, I said the last time I was before you, that I had six times taken an oath, that I should never consent to the practising of any jurisdiction on the bishop of Rome's behalf, and therefore I durst not answer to any thing that should be so demanded, lest I should be forsworn, which God forbid. Howbeit, saving my oath, I said I was more confirmed in the doctrine set forth publicly in the days of king Edward, than ever I was before I was put in prison: and so I thought I should be, and yet think still I shall be found more ready to give my life as God will, for the confirmation of the same.

Lord Chan.

I remember well that thou madest much ado about needless matter, as though the oath against the bishop of Rome were so great a matter. So others have done before thee, but yet not in such sort as thou hast done: for thou pre|tendest a conscience in it, which is nothing else but more ••ypocrisy.

Brad.

My conscience is known to the Lord: and whether I deal herein hypocritically or no, he knoweth. As therefore I said then, my lord, so I say again now▪ That for fear lest I should be perjured, I dare not make answer to any thing you shall demand of me, if my answering should consent to the confirming or practising of any jurisdiction for the bishop of Rome here in England.

Lord Chan.

Why didst thou begin to tell that we are Gods, and sit in God's place, and now wilt thou not make us an answer?

Brad.

My lord, I said, you would have your place taken of us now, as God's place: and there|fore I brought forth that piece of scripture, that you might the more be admonished to follow God and his ways at this present, who seeth us all, and well perceiveth whether of conscience I pretend this matter of the oath or not.

Lord Chan.

No, all men may well see thy hypocrisy: for if for thine oath's sake, thou didst not answer, then wouldst thou not have spoken as thou didst, and have answered me at the first: but now men well perceive, that this is but a starting|hole to hide thyself in, because thou darest not answer, and so wouldst escape, blinding the simple people's eyes, as though of conscience you did all you do.

Brad.

That which I spake at the first was not a reply or an answer to what you spake to me: and therefore I needed not to lay to me mine oath. For I thought you would have 〈◊〉〈◊〉 weighed what I did speak, than you did: but when I per|ceived you did not consider it, but came to ask matter, whereto by answering I should consent to the practising of jurisdiction on the bishop of Rome's behalf here in England, and so be forsworn; then of conscience and simplicity I spake as I do yet again speak, that I dare not for conscience sake answer you. And therefore I seek no starting|holes, nor go about to blind the people, as God knoweth. For if you of your honours shall tell me, that you do not ask me any thing, whereby mine answering should consent to the practising of the bishop of Rome's jurisdiction, ask me where|in you will, and you shall hear that I will answer you as flatly as ever any did that came before you. I am not afraid of death, I thank God; for I look, and have looked for nothing else at your hands a long time: but I am afraid when death cometh, I should have matter to trouble my conscience by the guiltiness of perjury, and therefore I do answer as I do.

Lord Chan.

These are gay glorious words, full of hypocrisy and vain-glory, and yet dost thou not know that I sit here as bishop of Winchester in mine own diocese, and therefore may do this which I do, and more too?

Brad.

My lord, give me leave to ask you this question, that my conscience may be out of doubt in this matter. Tell me here before God, all this audience being witness, that you demand of me nothing whereby mine answering should consent 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and confirm the practice of jurisdiction for the bish|op of Rome here in England, and then your honour shall hear me give as flat and plain answers briefly, to whatsoever you shall demand of me, as ever any did.

HERE the lord chancellor was greatly offended, and said that truly the bishop of Rome's authority needed no confirmation of Mr. Bradford's answer|ing, nor any such as he was, and turred his dis|course to the people, saying, that Mr. Bradford followed crafty covetous merchants, which because the•• ••••ould lend ••o money to their neighbours when they were in need, would say that they had often sworn, that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 would never lend any more money, because their debtors had so often ••eceived them. Even 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••hou, said he to Mr. Bradford, dost at this present, to cast a mist in the people's eyes, to blear them with an heresy, (which is great|er and more hurtful to the common-wealth than the other is) pretend thy oath, whereby the people might make a conscience, whereas they should not. Why speakest thou not?

Brad.

My lord, as I said, I say aga••••, I dare not answer you for fear of perjury, from which God defend me, or else I could tell you that there is a difference between oaths. Some are according to

faith and charity, as the oath against the bishop of Rome; and some against faith and charity; as this, to deny by oath my help to my brother in his need.

HERE my lord chancellor again was much of|fended, still saying that Bradford durst not answer, and further endeavoured to prove that the oath against the bishop of Rome was against charity.

BUT Bradford answered, that howsoever his honour took him, yet he was assur•••• of his mean|ing, that no fear but the fear of perjury made him unwilling to answer: for as for death, my lord, said he, as I know there are twelve hours in the day, so with the Lord my time is appointed. And when it shall be his good time, then I shall depart hence: but in the mean season I am safe enough, though all the people had sworn my death. Into his hands have I committed it, and do, his good will be done. And saving mine oath, I will answer you in chis behalf, that the oath against the bishop of Rome was not, nor is against charity.

Lord Chan.

How prove you that?

Brad.

Forsooth, I prove it thus:

NOTHING is against charity, which is with God's word, and not against it.

THE oath against the bishop of Rome's authori|ty in England, is with God's word, and is not against it.

ERGO, The oath against the bishop of Rome's authority in England, is not against charity.

Lord Chan.

Is it against God's word, that a man should take a king to be supreme head of the church in this realm?

Brad.

No, saving still mine oath, it is not against God's word, but with it, being taken in such sense as it may well be taken: that is, attri|buting to the king's power, the sovereignty in all his dominion.

Lord Chan.

I pray you, where ••••nd you that?

Brad.

I find it in many places, but especially in the 13th chap. of the Romans, where St. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 exhorteth "every soul to be subj••••t as the higher powers:" but what power? "The power verily which beareth the sword; which is not the spiri••••al, but the temporal power." As Chrysos••••m, well noteth upon the same, which your honour knoweth better than I. He, (Chrysostom I mean) there plainly sheweth that bishops, prophets, and apo|stles, are obedient to the temporal magis••••••tes.

HERE the lord chancellor was angered yet more, and said, how that Mr. Bradford went about to deny all obedience to the queen for his oath: and so, said he, this man would make God's word a warrant of his disobedience; for he will answer the queen on this sort, that when she says, Now swear to the bishop of Rome, or obey his authori|ty; No, (will he say) for I should be forsworn, and so he makes the queen no queen.

Brad.

No, I go not about to deny all obedience to the queen's highness, but denying obedience in this part, if she should demand it. For I was sworn to king Edward, not simply, that is, not only concerning his own person, but also concern|ing his successors, and therefore in denying the queen's request herein, I deny not her authority, nor become disobedient.

Lord Chan.

Yes, that thou dost; and so he began to tell a long tale, how if a man should make an oath to pay me a hundred pounds by such a day, and the man to whom it was due would forget the debt, the debtor should say, No, you cannot do it: for I am forsworn then.

HERE Mr. Bradford desired my lord c••••ncellor not to triste it, saving, that he wondered 〈◊〉〈◊〉 honour would make solemn oaths made to God tristes in that sort; and make so great a matter concerning vows (as they call it) made to the bishop for mar|riage of priests.

AT these words the lord chancellor was much offended, and said he did not 〈◊〉〈◊〉: but, says he, thou goest about to deny obedience to the queen, who now requires obedience to the bishop of Rome.

Brad.

NO, my lord, I do not deny obedience to the queen, if you would discern between genus and species. Because I may not obey in this, Ergo, I may not obey in the other, is no good reason. As if a man lett or sell a piece of his inheritance, yet this notwithstanding, all his inheritance is not lett or sold: and so in this cas•••• all obedience I deny not, because I deny obedience in this branch.

Lord Chan.

I will have none of these simili|tudes.

Brad.

I would not use them, if you went not about to persuade the people, that I meant that which I never meant: for I myself not only mean obedience, but will give example of all most hum|ble obedience to the queen's highness, so long as she requires not disobedience against God.

Lord Chan.

No, no, all men may see your meaning well enough. There is no man, though he be sworn to the king, that doth therefore break his oath, if he afterwards be sworn to the French king and to the emperor.

Brad.

It is true, my lord, but the cases be not alike; for here is an exception: Thou shalt not swear to the bishop of Rome at any time. If we in like manner were sworn; thou shalt not serve the emperor, &c. you see there were some alteration and more doubt. But I beseech your honour re|member what you yourself have written, answering the objections against this in your book, of true obedience: "Let God's word, and the reason thereof, bear the bell away."

HERE the lord chancellor was greatly moved, and said still, how that Mr. Bradford had written seditious letters, and perverted the people thereby, and did stoutly stand, as though he would defend the erroneous doctrine in king Edward's time▪ against all men: and now, says he, he says he dare not answer.

Brad.

I have written no seditious letters, I have not perverted the 〈◊〉〈◊〉: but that which I have written and spoken, that will I never deny, by God's grace. And where your lordship says, that I dare not answer you; that all men may know that I am not afraid, save mine oath, ask me wh•••• you will, and I will plainly make you answer, by God's grace, although I now see my life lieth there|on. But, O Lord, into thy hands I commit it, come what will: only sanctify thy name in me, as in an instrument of thy grace, Amen. Now ask what you will, and you shall see I am not afraid, by God's grace, flatly to answer.

Lord Chan.

Well then, how say you to the blessed sacrament? Do you not believe there Christ to be present ••oncerning his natural body?

Brad.

My lord, I do believe that Christ is cor|porally present at and in the due administration of the sacrament. By this word (corporally) I mean that Christ is there present corporally unto faith.

Lord Chan.

Unto faith! we must have many more words to make it plain.

Brad.

You shall so: but first give me leave to speak two words.

Lord Chan.

Speak on.

Brad.

I have now been a year and almost three quarters in prison, and in all this time you have never questioned me hereabout, when I might have spoke my conscience frankly without peril; but now you have a law to hang up and put to death, if a man answer freely and not to your liking, and so now you come to demand this question. A••, my lord, Christ used not this way to bring men to faith. No more did the prophets or apostles. Re|member what Barnard writes to Eugenius the pope▪ "I read, that the apostles stood to be judged, but I read not, that they sat to judge. This shall be, that was," &c.

HERE the lord chancellor was app••lled, as it seemed, and said most gently that he used not this means. It was not my doing, said he, although some there be that think this to be the best way: for I, for my part, have been challenged for being too gentle oftentimes; which thing the bishop of Lon|don confirmed, and so did almost all the audience▪ that he had been too mild and too gentle.

AT which words Mr. Bradford spake thus;

My lord, I pray you stretch out your gentleness that I may feel it, for hitherto I have never felt it.

AS soon as ever he had spoke thus; the lord chancellor, perhaps thinking that Mr. Bradford would have had mercy and pardon, said that with all his heart, not only he▪ but the queen's highness would stretch out mercy, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with them he would return.

Brad.

Return, my lord? God 〈◊〉〈◊〉 me from that going back: I mean it not so, but I mean, that I was three quarters of a year in the Tower; you forbad me paper, pen, and ink, and never in all that time, nor since, did I feel any gentleness from you. I have rather hitherto found, as I looked for, extremity. And I thank God that I perceive now you have kept me in prison thus long, not for any matter you had, but for matter you would have; God's good will be done.

HERE now were divers telling my lord it was dinner time. And so he rose up, leaving Mr. Bradford speaking, saying, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the afternoon th••y would speak more with him, and he was had into the vestry, and was there all that day until night, when he was carried to prison again.

IN the mean time, about four o'clock in the afternoon, a gentleman, called Mr. Thomas Hus|sey, of Lincolnshire, who was once an officer in the duke of Norfolk's house, came into the vestry to inquire for one Stoning; and when it was answered him by the under-marshal's officers of the King's-bench, that there was none such, he entered into the house, and made an acqaintance with Mr. John Bradford, saying, that he would commune and speak with him the next morning for o••d acquain|tance.

THE next morning about seven o'clock, this gen|tleman came into the chamber wherein Mr. John Bradford lay, and being with him, he began a long oration, how that of love and acquaintance he came to speak that which he would further utter. You did (said he) so wonderfully behave yourself before the lord chancellor, and other bishops yesterday, that even the greatest enemies you have, did see that they have no matter against you: and therefore I advise you, (speaking as though it came of his own good will, without making any other man privy, or any other procuring him as he said) this day, for anon you shall be called before them again, to desire a time, and men to confer withal, so shall all men think a wonderful wisdom, gravity, and piety in you; and by this means you shall escape present danger, which else is nearer than you are aware of. To this Mr. Bradford answered, I neither can nor will make such request. For then shall I give oc|casion to the people, and to all others to think that I doubt of the doctrine which I confess, which thing I do not, for thereof I am most assured, and therefore I will give no such offence.

AS they were thus talking, the chamber door was unlocked, and Dr. Seton came in, whom when Mr. Bradford saw, he spake thus in his own mind: What, sir, goeth the matter thus? This man told me, no man knew of his coming: Lord, give me grace to remember thy lesson, "Beware of those men, &c. Cast not your pearls before dogs:" for I see these men he come to hunt for matter, that the one may bear witness to the other.

DR. SETON, after some by-talk of Mr. Bradford's age, of his country, and such like, began a gay and long discourse of my lord of Canterbury, Mr. La|timer, and Mr. Ridley, and how they at Oxford were not able to answer any thing at all: and that therefore my lord of Canterbury desired to confer with the bishop of Durham and others; all which talk tended to this end, that Mr. Bradford should make the like suit, being nothing to be compared in learning to my lord of Canterbury.

TO this Mr. Bradford briefly answered as he did before to Mr. Hussey.

WITH this answer neither the doctor nor the gen|tleman being contented, after many persuasions, Mr. Doctor said, I have heard much good talk of you, and even last night a gentleman made report of you at the lord chancellor's table, that you were able to persuade as much as any that he knew. And I (though I never he••••d you preach, and to my knowledge did never see you before yesterday) yet methought your modesty 〈◊〉〈◊〉 such, your behavi|our and talk so without malice and impatience, that

I would be sorry you should do worse than myself. And I tell you further, I do perceive my lord chan|cellor hath a favour towards you: wherefore be not so obstinate, but desire respite and some learned man to confer withal, &c.

BUT Mr. Bradford kept still one answer; I can|not, nor will I so offend the people. I doubt not, but I am most certain of the doctrine I have taught.

HERE Mr. Doctor waxed hot, and called Mr. Bradford arrogant, proud, and vain-glorious.

BUT Mr. Bradford answered, Beware of judging, lest you be condemned yourself. But still Dr. Se|ton urged him, shewing him how merciful my lord chancellor was, and how charitably they entertained him.

Brad.

I never saw any justice, much less love,

(I speak for my part, said Mr. Bradford)

in my lord chancellor. Long have I been unjustly imprisoned, and handled in the same uncharitably: and now my lord hath no just matter against me.

THIS talk served not the Doctor's purpose: wherefore he went from matter to matter, from this point to that point. Bradford still gave him the hearing, and answered not: for he perceived that they both did come only to fish for some things which might make a shew that my lord chancellor had justly kept him in prison.

WHEN all their discourse took no such effect as they expected, Mr. Hussey asked Mr. Bradford, will you not admit conference, if my lord chancellor should offer it publicly?

Brad.

Conference, if it had been offered before the law had been made, or if it were offered so that I might have liberty to confer, and as sure as he with whom I should confer, then it were something: but else I see not to what purpose conference should be offered, but to defer that which at length will come, and the lingering may give more offence than do good. Howbeit, if my lord shall make such an offer of his own motion, I will not refuse to confer with any he may appoint.

DR. Seton hearing this, called Bradford arrogant, proud, and whatsoever it pleased him.

THEN Bradford perceiving by them that he sho•••••• shortly be called for, besought them both to give him leave to talk with God, and to beg wisdom and grace of him; for, said he, otherwise I am helpless; and so they with much ado departed. Then Mr. Bradford went and made his prayers to God, which the Lord of his goodness did graciously accept in his need, praised therefore be his holy name. Short|ly after they were gone, Mr. Bradford was led to the aforesaid church, and there tarried uncalled for till eleven o'clock, that is, till Mr. Saunders was excommunic••••••d.

The last Examination of Mr. JOHN BRADFORD, in the church of St. Mary Overy's.

AFTER the excommunication of Mr. Laurence Saunders, John Bradford was called in, and being brought in before the lord chancellor and other bishops there sitting, the lord chancellor be|gan to speak thus in effect: That if Bradford, being now come before them, would answer with modesty and humility, and conform himself to the catholic church with them, he yet might find mercy, be|cause they would be loth to use extremity. There|fore he concluded with an exhortation, that Brad|ford would recant his doctrine.

AFTER the lord chancellor had ended his long oration, Mr. Bradford began to speak thus: As yesterday I besought your honours to set in your fight the majesty and presence of God to follow him, who seeketh not to subvert the simple by sub|tle questions; so I humbly beseech every one of you to do this day: for you know well enough, that guiltless blood will cry for vengeance. And this I pray not your lordships to do, as or •• that taketh upon me to condemn you utterly herein, but that ye might be more admonished to do that, which none doth so much as he should do: for our nature is so much corrupt, that we are very forgetful of God. Again, as yesterday I pleaded mine oath and oaths against the bishop of Rome, that I should never consent to the practising of any jurisdiction for him, or on his behalf in the realm of England; so do I again at this day, lest I should be perjured. And last of all, as yesterday the answers I made, were by protestation and saving mine oath, so I would your honours should know that mine answers

shall be this day: and this I do, that when death (which I look for at your hands) shall come, I may not be troubled with the guilt of perjury.

AT which words the lord chancellor was wroth, and said, that they had given him respite to delibe|rate till this day, whether he would recant his er|rors of the blessed sacrament, which yesterday, said he, before us you uttered.

Brad.

My lord, you gave me no time for any such deliberation, neither did I speak any thing of the sacrament which you do disallow. For when I had declared a presence of Christ to be there to faith, you went from that matter, to clear yourself that you were not cruel, and so went to dinner.

Lord Chan.

What? I perceive we must begin all again with thee. Did I not yesterday tell thee plainly, that thou madest a conscience where none should be? Did I not make it plain, that the oath against the bishop of Rome was an unlawful oath?

Brad.

No, indeed my lord: you said so, but you have not proved it yet, nor ever can do.

Lord Chan.

O Lord God, what a fellow art thou! Thou wouldst go about to bring into the people's heads, that we, all the lords of the parliament house, the knights and burgesses, and all the whole realm be perjured. O what an heretic is this! here good people, you may see what a senseless heretic this fellow is. If I should make an oath I would never help my brother, nor lend him money in his need; were this a good answer to tell my neighbour de|siring my help, that I had made an oath to the con|trary? or that I could not do it?

Brad.

O my lord, discern betwixt oaths that be against charity and faith, and oaths that be accord|ing to faith and charity, as this is against the bishop of Rome.

HERE the lord chancellor made much ado, and a long time was spent about oaths, which were good, and which were evil, he captiously asking often of Bradford a direct answer concerning oaths: which Bradford would not give simply, but with a distinc|tion. Whereat the chancellor was much offended: but Bradford still kept him at bay, that the oath against the bishop of Rome 〈◊〉〈◊〉 lawful oath, using thereto the lord chancellor's own book, of true obe|dience, for confirmation.

AT length they came to this issue, who should be judge of the lawfulness of the oath; and Mr. Brad|ford said, the word of God, according to Christ's word, John xii. My word shall judge; and accord|ing to the testimony of Isaiah and Micah, That God's word, coming out of Jerusalem, shall give sentence among the Gentiles. By this, word, (said Bradford) my lord, I will prove the oath against the bishop of Rome's authority, to be a good, a godly, and a lawful oath. So that the lord chan|cellor left his hold, and as the other day he pre|tended a denial of the queen's authority and obe|dience to her highness, so did he now.

BUT Bradford, as the day before, proved, that obedience in this point to the queen's highness, if she should demand an oath to the bishop of Rome, being denied, was not a general denial of her au|thority, and of obedience to her; no more, said he, than the sale, gift, or lease of the whole inheri|tance.

AND thus much ado was made about this mat|ter: the lord chancellor talking much, and using many examples of debt, of going out of town to|morrow by oath, and yet tarrying till Friday, and such like. Which trifling talk Bradford did touch, saying, That it was a wonder his honour weighed conscience no more in this, and would be so earnest in vows of priests marriages made to bishops, and be careless for solemn oaths made to God and to princes. In short, this was the end. The lord chancellor said, the queen might dispense with it, and did so to all the whole realm. But Bradford said, that the queen's highness could do no more but remit her right; as for the oath made to God, she could never remit, forasmuch as it was made unto God.

AT which words the lord chancellor chafed won|derfully, and said, that in plain sense I slandered the realm with perjury; and therefore said ••e to the

people, you may see how this fellow taketh upon him to have more knowledge and conscience than all the wise men of England, and yet he hath no conscience at all.

Brad.

Well, my lord, let all the standers-by see who hath conscience: I have been a year and a half in prison: now before all these people, declare wherefore I was imprisoned, or what cause you had to punish me. You said the other day in your own house, my lord of London witnessing with you, that I took upon me to speak to the people undesired. There he sitteth by you, I mean my lord of Bath, who desired me himself, for the passion of Christ, I would speak to the people. Upon whose words I coming into the pulpit, had like to have been slair▪ with a dagger

(which was hurled at him, I think)

for it touched my sleeve. He then prayed me I would not leave him, and I promised him, as long as I lived, I would take hurt before him that day, and so went out of the pulpit and intreated with the people, and at length brought him myself into an house.

BESIDES this, in the afternoon I preached at Bow church, and there going up into the pulpit, one de|sired me not to reprove the people; for, said he, you will never come down alive, if you do it. And yet notwithstanding I did in that sermon reprove their fact, and called it sedition at least twenty times. For all which my doing, I have received this re|compence, imprisonment for a year and a half and more, and death now, which you are plotting. Let all men be judges where conscience is.

THEY endeavoured to interrupt him while he was speaking these words, but Mr. Bradford still speak on, and gave no place till he had made an end. And then the lord chancellor said, that for all that fair tale, his fact at the cross was culpable.

Brad.

No, my fact was good, as you yourself did bear me witness. For when I was at first before you in the Tower, you yourself did say, that my fact was good, but my mind evil. Well, said I, then my lord, in that case you allow the fact, and condemn my mind; but how can I otherwise de|clare my mind to man but by saying and doing? God one day, I trust, will open it to my comfort, what my mind was, and your's is.

HERE the lord chancellor was offended, and said, that he never said so. I had not so little wit, said he, as not to discern betwixt meaning and doing: and so brought forth many examples little to the purpose, to prove that men construe things by the meaning of men, and not by their doings. But when this would not serve, then came he to another matter, and said, that Bradford was put in prison at first because he would not yield, nor be conformable to the queen's religion.

Brad.

Why, my lord, your honour knoweth that you would not reason with me on religion, but said a time should afterwards be found out, when I should be talked withal. But if it were as your lordship saith, that I was put in prison for religion, in that my religion was then authorized by public laws of the realm, could conscience punish, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 me in prison therefore? Wherefore let all men be judges, in whom conscience is wanting.

HERE came forth Mr. Chamberlain of Wood|stock, and told my lord chancellor, that Bradford had been a serving-man, and was with Mr. Har|rington.

Lord. Chan.

True, and did deceive his master of seven-score pounds, and because of this, he went to be a gospeller and a preacher, good people, and yet you see how he pretendeth conscience.

Brad.

My lord, I am ready to face him, whoso|ever he be, that can come forth and justly vouch, that ever I deceived my master. And as you are chief justice by office in England, I desire justice upon them that so slander me, because they cannot prove it.

HERE my lord chancellor and Mr. Chamberlain were smitten blank, and said they heard it. But, said my lord chancellor, we have another manner of matter than this against you: for you are an heretic.

YEA, added the bishop of London, he wrote let|ters to Mr. Pendleton, who knoweth his hand as well as his own; your honour did see the letters.

Brad.

This is not true, I never did write to

Pendleton since I came to prison, and therefore I am not justly spoken of.

Lond.

But you indited it.

Brad:

I did not, nor know not what you mean, and this I offer to prove.

THEN came in another, (I believe they call him Mr. Allen, one of the clerks of the council) putting the lord chancellor in remembrance of letters writ|ten into Lancashire.

Lord Chan.

You say true: for we have his hand to shew.

Brad.

I deny that you have my hand to shew of letters 〈◊〉〈◊〉 into Lancashire, otherwise than before you all I will stand to, and prove them to be good and lawful.

HERE was all answered, and then the lord chan|cellor began a new matter. Sir, said he, in my house the other day you did most contemptuously despise the queen's mercy, and you would maintain the erroneous doctrine in king Edward's days against all men, and this you do most stoutly.

Brad.

Well, I am glad that all men see now you have had no matter to imprison me before that day justly. Now say I, that I did not contemptuously despise the queen's mercy, but would have had it, (though if justice might take place, I need it not) so that I might have had it with God's mercy, that is, without doing or saying any thing against God and his truth. And as for maintenance of doctrine, because I cannot tell how you will stretch this word maintenance, I will repeat again that which I spake. I said I was more confirmed in the religion set forth in king Edward's days, than ever I was: and if God so would, I trust I should declare it by giving my lif•• for the confirmation and testification thereof. So I said then, and so I say now. As for otherwise to maintain it, than pertaining to a private person by confession, I thought not, nor think not.

Lord Chan.

Well, yesterday thou didst maintain false heresy concerning the blessed sacrament, and therefore we gave thee respite till this day to deli|berate.

Brad.

My lord, as I said at the first, I spake no|thing of the sacrament, but that which you allow|ed, and therefore reproved it not, nor gave me any time to deliberate.

Lord Chan.

Why? didst thou not deny Christ's presence in the sacrament?

Brad.

No, I never denied nor taught; but that to faith, whole Christ, body and blood, was as present as the bread and wine to the due receiver.

Lord Chan.

Yea, but dost thou not believe that Christ's body naturally and really is there, under the forms of bread and wine.

Brad.

My lord, I believe Christ is present there to the faith of the due receiver: as for transub|stantiation, I plainly and flatly tell you, I believe it not.

HERE was Bradford called Diabolus, a slander|er: for we ask no question, said my lord chancellor, of transubstantiation, but of Christ's presence.

Brad.

I deny not his presence to the faith of the receiver, but deny that he is included in the bread, or that the bread was transubstantiate.

Worcest.

If he be not included, how is he then present.

Brad.

Indeed, though my faith can tell how, yet my tongue cannot express it, nor you otherwise than by faith hear it, or understand it.

HERE was much ado, now one doctor standing up and speaking this, and others speaking that, and the lord chancellor talking much of Luther, Zuin|glius, Oecolampadius: but still Bradford kept him at that point, that Christ is present to faith; and that there is no transubstantiation nor including of Christ in the bread: but all this would not serve them.

THEREFORE another bishop asked this question, Whether the wicked man received Christ's very bo|dy, or no? And Bradford answered plainly, No. Whereat the lord chancellor made a long oration, how that it could not be that Christ was present,

except that the evil man received it. But Bradford put away all his oration in few words, that grace was at that time offered to his lordship, although he received it not: so that, said he, the receiving maketh not the presence, as your lordship would infer; but God's grace, truth, and power, is the cause of the presence, which grace, the wicked that lack faith cannot receive. And here Bradford prayed my lord, not to divorce that which God hath coupled together. He hath coupled all these together; "Take, eat, this is my body." He saith not, See, peep, this is my body; but, Take, eat. So that it appeareth, this is a promise de|pending upon condition, if we take and eat.

HERE the lord chancellor and other bishops made a great ado, that Bradford had found out a toy that no man else ever did, of the condition; and the lord chancellor made many words to the people thereabout.

BUT Bradford said thus, My lord, are not these words, Take, eat, a commandment? and are not these words, This is my body, a promise? If you will challenge the promise, and do not the com|mandment, may you not deceive yourself?

HERE the lord chancellor denied Christ to have commanded the sacrament, and the use of it.

Brad.

Why, my lord, I pray you tell the peo|ple what mood accipite, manducate, is; is it not plain to children, that Christ, in so saying, com|mandeth?

AT these words the lord chancellor made a great toying and triflting at the Imperative mood, and fell to parsing and examining, as he should teach a child, and so concluded it was no commandment, but such a phrase as this, I pray you give me drink, which, said he, is no commandment, I think.

BUT Bradford prayed him to leave toying and trifling, and said thus: My lord, if it be not a commandment of Christ to take and eat the sacra|ment, why dare any take upon them to command and make that of necessity, which God leaveth free? as you do in making it a necessary commandment, once a year for all that be of discretion, to receive the sacrament.

HERE the lord chancellor called him again Dia|bolus or Calumniator, and began, from these words, "Let a man prove himself, and so eat of the bread, (yea bread, said Bradford) and drink of the cup," to prove that it was no commandment to receive the sacrament: for then (said he) if it were a com|mandment, it should bind all men, in all places, and at all times.

Brad.

O my lord, discern between command|ments: some be general, as the ten command|ments, that they bind always, in all places, and all persons: some be not so general, as this of the sup|per, the sacrament of baptism, of the thrice ap|pearing before the Lord at Jerusalem, of Abraham offering of Isaac, &c.

HERE the lord chancellor denied the cup to be commanded by Christ: for then, said he, we should have eleven commandments.

Brad.

Indeed I believe you think as you speak: for else you would not take the cup from the peo|ple, in that Christ saith, "Drink ye all of it." But how say you, my lords? Christ saith to you especially, "Go and preach the gospel: feed Christ's flock," &c. Is this a commandment, or no?

HERE was my lord chancellor in a heat, and said as pleased him.

THEN the bishop of Durham asked Bradford, when Christ began to be present in the sacrament? whether before the receiver received it, or no?

MR. Bradford answered, that the question was curious, and not necessary; and further said, that as the cup was the New Testament, so the bread was Christ's body to him that received it duly, but yet so that the bread is bread. For, said he, in all the scripture ye shall not find this proposition, There is no bread. And so he quoted Chrysostom, to prove his assertions. Much ado was here, they calling Bradford heretic, and he desiring them to

proceed in God's name, he looked for that which God appointed for them to do.

Lord Chan.

This fellow is now in another heresy of fatal necessity, as though all things were so tied together, that of mere necessity all things must come to pass.

BUT Mr. Bradford desired him to take things as they be spoken, and not wrest them to a contrary sense. Your lordship, said he, doth discern be|twixt God and man. Things are not by fortune to God at any time, though to man they seem so some|times. I speak but as the apostles did, "Lord (said they) see how Herod and Pontius Pilate, with the prelates, are gathered together against thy Christ, to do that which thy hand and counsel hath before ordained for them to do."

HERE the lord chancellor began to read the ex|communication. And in the excommunication, when he came to the name of John Bradford, lay|man: Why, (said he) art thou no priest?

Brad.

No, nor ever was either priest, or bene|ficed, or married, or any preacher, before public authority had established religion, or preacher af••ter public authority had altered religion, and yet I am thus handled at your hands: but God, I doubt not, will give his blessing where you curse. And so he fell down on his knees, and heartily thanked God that he had counted him worthy to suffer for his name's sake; and prayed to God to give him repent|ance and a good mind. After the excommunication was read, he was delivered to the sheriff of London, and so had to the Clink, and afterwards to the Compter in the Poultry, in the city of London▪ this being proposed by his murderers, that he should be delivered from thence to the earl of Der••by, to he conveyed into Lancashire, and there to be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the town of Manchester, where he was 〈…〉〈…〉 their purpose concerning the place was afterwards altered, for he suffered in London.

AFTER the condemnation of Mr. Bradford, which was the last day of January. Mr. Bradford being sent to prison, remained there till the first of July, during which time he sustained divers other conferences and conflicts with sundry adversaries, who repaired to him in the prison. Of whom first bishop Bonner, coming to the Compter to degrade Dr. Taylor, the 4th day of February, began to discourse with the said Mr. Bradford; the effect whereof here ensueth.

A CONVERSATION between bishop BONNER and Mr. BRADFORD.

ON the 4th of February, the same day Mr. Rogers was burned, Bonner, bishop of Lon|don, came to the Poultry Compter to degrade Dr. Taylor, about one o'clock in the afternoon. But before he spake to Dr. Taylor, he called for John Bradford who was prisoner there, whom when he saw, he put off his cap, and gave him his hand, saying, Because I perceive that you are desirous to converse with some learned men, therefore I have brought Mr. Archdeacon Harpsfield to you. And I tell you, you do like a wise man. But I pray go roundly to work, for the time is but short.

Brad.

My lord, as roundly as I can I will go to work with you: I never desired to confer with any man, nor yet do. Howbeit, if you will have any one to talk with me, I am ready.

Bonner.

What!

(said the bishop in a fume to the keeper)

did you not tell me that this man desired conference.

Keeper.

No, my lord, I told you that he would not refuse to confer with any; but I did not say that it was his desire.

Bonner.

Well, Mr. Bradford, you are well be|loved, I pray you consider yourself, and refuse not charity when it is offered.

Brad.

Indeed, my lord, this is small charity, to condemn a man as you have condemned me, who never brake your laws. In Turkey a man may have charity but in England I could not yet find it. I was condemned for my faith as soon a•• I ut…tered it at your requests, before I had committe•• any thing against the laws. And as for conference, I am not afraid to talk with whom you will. But to say that I desire to confer, that do I not.

Bonner.

Well, well. And so he called for Dr. Taylor, and Bradford went his way.

UPON another day in February, Mr. Willerton, chaplain to the bishop of London, came to confer with Mr. Bradford; but when he perceived that Mr. Bradford desired not his company, and there|fore rather wished for his departing than his stay: Well, Mr. Bradford, said he, I pray you let us confer a little, perchance you may do me good, if I can do you none. Upon which words Mr. Brad|ford was content, and so they began to talk. Wil|lerton spake much of the doctors, of the fathers, of the bread in the sixth of St. John, &c. labour+ing to prove transubstantiation, and that wicked men do receive Christ.

BUT Bradford on the contrary disproved his au|thorities, so that they came to this issue, that Wil|lerton should draw his reasons out of the scriptures and doctors, and Bradford would peruse them; and if he could not answer them, then he would give place. Likewise also Mr. Bradford should draw his reasons out of the scriptures and doctors, to which Willerton should answer if he could: and so they departed for that day.

THE next morning Mr. Willerton sent half a sheet of paper written on both sides, containing no reasons how he gathered his doctrine, but only bare sentences; "The bread which I will give is my flesh:" and the places in the xxvi. of Matthew, the xiv. of Mark, thr xxii. of Luke, and the x. and xi. of the Corinthians, with some sentences of the doctors, all which made as much against him as for him.

IN the afternoon he came himself, and there they had a long talk to little effect. At length Willerton began to talk of the church, saying, that Bradford swerved from the church.

Brad.

No, that I do not, but you do. For the church is Christ's spouse, and Christ's obedient spouse, which your church is not, whi•••• r••bbeth the people of the Lord's cup, and of service in the English tongue.

〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Why? It is not profitable to have the service in English, for it is written, "The lips of the priest should keep the law, and out of his mouth man must look for knowledge."

Brad.

Should not the people then have the scrip|tures? Wherefore ser••eth this saying of Christ, "Search the scriptures?"

Willer.

This was not spoke to the people, but to the scribes and learned men.

Brad.

Then the people must not have the scrip|tures?

Willer.

No, for it is written, "They shall be all taught of God."

Brad.

And must we learn all from the priests?

Willer.

Yea.

Brad.

Then I see you would bring the peo|ple to hang up Christ, and let Barabbas go, as the priests did then persuade the people. At which words Mr. Willerton was so offended, that he had no desire to talk any more. In the end Mr. Bradford gave him the reasons which he had gathered against transubstantiation, and desired him to frame his into the form of reasons, and then, said Bradford, I will answer them.

Willer.

Well, I will do so: 〈◊〉〈◊〉 first I will an|swer your's. Which he never performed.

ON the 12th of February, one of the earl of Derby's servants came to Mr. Bradford, saying, My lord hath sent me to you, he desired you to ten|der yourself, and he will be a go••d lord to you.

Brad.

I thank his lordship for his good will to|wards me: but in this case I cannot tender myself more than God's honour will allow.

Servant.

Ah▪ Mr. Bradford, consider your mo|ther, sisters, fr••ends, kinsfolk, and country, what a great discomfort will it be unto them to see you die as an heretic!

Brad.

I have learned to forsake father, mother, bro••h••r, sister, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, ••nd all that ev••. I have▪

yea, even mine ownself, for else I cannot be Christ's disciple.

Serv.

If my lord should obtain for you that you might depart the realm, would you not be content to be at the queen's appointment, where she would appoint you beyond the sea.

Brad.

No: I had rather be burned in England, than be burned beyond the seas. For I know if she should send me to Paris, Louvain, or some such place, immediately they would burn me.

UPON the 14th of February, Percival Creswell, an old acquaintance of Mr. Bradford's, came to him, bringing with him a kinsman of Mr. Fecknam's, who after many words said:

Cres.

I pray you let me intercede for you.

Brad.

You may do what you will.

Cres.

But tell me what suit I should make for you.

Brad.

Forsooth, what you please; do it not at my request, for I desire nothing at your hands. If the queen will give me life, I will thank her. If she will ba••••sh me, I will thank her. If she will burn me, I w••ll thank her. If she will condemn me to perpetual imprisonment, I will thank her.

HEREUPON Creswell wen•• away, and about 1•• o'clock he and the other came again▪ and brought a book written by one More, desiring Mr. Bradford to read it over.

BRADFORD, taking the book, said, Good Percival▪ I am immoveably settled in this article.

C••••s.

Oh, if ever you loved me, do one thing for me.

Brad.

What is that?

Cr••s.

Desire and name what learned man or men you will have to come 〈◊〉〈◊〉 you. My lord of York, my lord of Lincoln, my lord of Bath, and others will gladly come unto you.

Brad.

No, never will I desire them, or any other, to come to confer with me; for I am as cer|tain of my doctrine as I am of any thing. But for your pleasure, and also that all men may know that I am not ashamed to have my faith sifted and tried, bring whom you will, and I will talk with them. So they went their way.

ABOUT three o'clock in the afternoon. Dr. Hard|ing, who was then the bishop of Lincoln's chaplain, came to Mr. Bradford, and after a great and solemn protestation, declaring that he had prayed to God before he came, to turn his talk to Bradford's good, he began to tell the good opinion he had of Brad|ford, and spent the time in such tattling, so that thei•• talk was to little purpose; have that Mr. Bradford prayed him to consider from whence he was fallen, and not follow the world, nor to love it: for the love of God is not where the world is.

BUT Harding counted Mr. Bradford in a dam|nable state, as one being out of the church, and therefore desired him to take care of his soul, and not die in such an opinion.

WHAT▪ Mr. Harding, said Mr. Bradford, I have heard you with these ears maintain what I now stand in.

Harding.

I grant that I have taught the doctrine of transubstantiation was subtle doctrine, but other|wise I never taught it. And so he inveighing a|gainst marriages of priests, and namely against Pe|ter Martyr, Martin Bucer, Luther, and such, who for breaking their vows were justly green up into heresies ••as he said: Mr. Bradford seeing him al|together given up to popery, after admonishing him thereof, bade him farewel.

UPON the 25th of February, Percival Creswell came with Mr. Harpsfield, archdeacon of London, and a servant waiting upon him. After formal sa|lutations, he made a long oration, of which this is a short sum; That all men, even the Infidels, Turks, Jews, Anabaptists, and Libertines, desire happiness as well as the Christians, and that every one think|eth they shall attain to it by their religion. To which Mr. Bradford answered briefly, that he spake not far amiss.

THEN said Harpsfield, But the way thither is not all alike: for the Infidels by Jupiter, Juno, &c. the Turk by his Alcoran, the Jew by his Talmud, do believe to come to heaven. For so may I speak of such as believe the immortality of the soul.

Brad.

You speak truly.

Harps.

Well, then, here is the matter, to know the way to this heaven.

Brad.

We are not to invent ways. There is but one way, and that is Jesus Christ, as he himself doth witness; "I am the way."

Harps.

What you say is true, and also false. I suppose what you mean by Christ, is believing in Christ.

Brad.

I have learned to discern betwixt faith and Christ. Albeit I confess, that whoso believeth in Christ, the same shall be saved.

Harps.

No, not all that believe in Christ; for some shall say, "Lord, Lord, have we not cast out devils?" &c. but Christ will answer in the day of judgment to these, "Depart from me, I know you not."

Brad.

You must make a difference betwixt be|lieving, and saying I believe: as for example, If one should say and swear he loveth you, for all his saying and swearing you will not believe him, when you see he goeth about to utter and do all the evil against you that he can.

Harps.

Well, this not very material. There is but one way, Christ. How came we to know him? Where shall we seek to find him?

Brad.

Forsooth, we must seek him by his word, and in his word, and after his word.

Harps.

Very good: but tell me how first we came into the company of them that could tell us this, but by baptism.

Brad.

Baptism is the sacrament, by which out••wardly we are ingrafted into Christ: I say outward|ly, because I dare not exclude from Christ all that die without baptism. I will not tie God, where he is not bound. Some infants die, whose parents de|sire baptism for them, and cannot have it.

Harps.

To these we may think perchance that God will shew mercy.

Brad.

Yes, the children whose parents do con|temn baptism will not I condemn, because the child shall not bear the father's offence.

Harps.

Well, we agree, that by baptism then we are brought, and (as man would say) begotten to Christ. For Christ is our father, and the church his spouse is our mother. As all men naturally have Adam for their father, and Eve for their mo|ther; and as Eve was taken out of Adam's side, so was the church taken out of Christ's side, whereout flowed blood for the satisfaction and purgation of our sins.

Brad.

All this is truly spoken.

Harps.

Now then tell me whether this church of Christ hath not been always?

Brad.

Yes, since the creation of man, and shall be for ever.

Harps.

Very good. But tell me whether this church is a visible church, or no?

Brad.

It is no otherwise visible, than Christ was here on earth: that is, by no exterior pomp or shew that setteth her forth commonly, and therefore to see her we must put on such eyes, as good men put on to see and know Christ when he walked here on earth: for as Eve was of the same substance that Adam was of, "Flesh of his flesh, and bone of his bone;" as St. Paul saith, Ephes. v. Look there|fore how Christ was visibly known to be Christ when he was on earth, that is, by considering him after the word of God: so is the church known.

Harps.

I do not come to reason at present, and therefore I will go on forward. Is not this church a multitude?

Brad.

Yes, that it is. Howbeit, the snake lies hid in the grass, as the proverb is. For i•• your question is a subtlety. What visible multitude was

there in Elijah's time, or when Moses was on the mount, Aaron and all Israel worshipping the calf?

Harps.

You wander from the matter.

Brad.

No, nothing at all. For I do prevent you, knowing well whereabout you go. And there|fore fewer words might very well serve.

Harps.

Well, I perceive you have knowledge, and by a little see I the more. Tell me yet further whether this multitude have not the ministry or preaching of God's word.

Brad.

Sir, you go about the bush. If you un|derstand preaching for the confessing of the gospel, I will go with you: for else if you will, you may know that persecution often hindereth preaching.

Harps.

Well, I mean it so. Tell me yet more, hath it not the sacraments administered?

Brad.

It hath the sacraments, howbeit the ad|ministration of them is often hindered. But I will put you from your purpose, because I see whereabout you go. If heretics have baptism, and do baptize, as they did in St. Cyprian's time, you know this baptism is baptism, and not to be reite|rated. This Mr. Bradford spake that the standers by might observe, that though the popish church hath baptism, which we have received of them, yet notwithstanding it is not the true church, neither need we be baptized again.

Harps.

You go far from the matter, and I per|ceive you have more errors than one.

Brad.

So you say, but that is not enough till you prove it.

Harps.

Well, this church is a multitude. Hath it not the preaching of the gospel, and the adminis|tration of the sacraments? And yet more, hath it not the power of jurisdiction?

Brad.

What jurisdiction is exercised in persecu|tion and affliction?

Ha••••••.

I mean by jurisdiction, admonishing one another, and so forth·

Brad.

Well, go on, what then?

Harps.

It hath also succession of bishops. And here he made much ado to prove that this was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 essential point.

Brad.

You say as you would have it; for if this part fail you, all the church you go about to set up will fall down. You shall not find in all the scrip|ture, this your essential part of succession of bishops. In Christ's church Antichrist will sit. And Peter tells us, as it went in the old church before Christ's coming, so it will be in the new church since Christ's coming: that is, as there were false pro|phets, and such as bear rule were adversaries to the true prophets; so shall there be (said he) false teachers, even of such as are bishops, and bear rule amongst the people.

Harps.

You go always out of the matter: but I will prove a further succession of bishops.

Brad.

Do so.

Harps.

Tell me, were not the apostles bishops?

Brad.

No, unless you will make a new defi|nition of a bishop; that is, give him no certain place.

Harps.

Indeed, the apostles office was not the bishop's office; for it was universal, but yet Christ instituted bishops in his church, as St. Paul saith, he hath given pastors, prophets, &c. So that I think it may be proved from scripture, that the succession of bishops is an essential point.

Brad.

The ministry of God's word, and mini|sters, are an essential point. But translate this to the bishops and their succession, is a plain subtlety: and therefore that it may be plain, I will ask a question, Tell me, whether the scripture knew any difference between bishops and ministers, which ye call priests?

Harps.

No.

Brad.

Well then, go on forwards, and let us see what you shall get now by the succession of bishops: that is, of ministers which can be under|stood

of such bishops as minister not, but lord it.

Harps.

I perceive that you are far out of the way. By your doctrine you can never shew in your church, a multitude which ministereth God's word and his sacraments, which hath jurisdiction and succession of bishops, which hath from time to time believed as you believe, beginning now, and so going upwards, as I will do of our doctrine; and therefore are you out of the church, and so cannot be saved. Perhaps you will bring me down|wards a shew to blind people's eyes; but to go upwards, that you can never do, and this is the true trial.

Brad.

You must and will, I am assured, give me leave to follow the scriptures and examples or good men.

Harps.

Yes.

Brad.

Well then, Stephen was accused and condemned as I am, that he had taught new and false doctrine, before the fathers of the church then as they were taken. Stephen for his defence dis|proveth their accusation. But how? doth he it by going upwards? no, but by coming downwards, beginning at Abraham, and continuing still till Esaiahs's time, and the people's captivity. From whence he maketh a great leap until the time he was in, which was about 400 years, and called them by their right names, hell-hounds, rather than heaven-hounds. In this manner will I prove my faith, and that you can never do your's.

Harps.

Yes sir, if we knew that you had the Holy Ghost, then could we believe you. Here Bradford would have answered, that Stephen's enemies would not believe he had the Holy Ghost, and therefore they did as they did; but as he was speaking Mr. Harpsfield rose up, and the keeper and others that stood by, began to talk gently, pra••ing Mr. Bra••ford to take heed to what Mr. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 deacon spak••, who still said that Mr. Brad|ford was out of the church.

Brad.

S••r, I am most certain that I am in Christ's church, and I can shew a demonstration of my religion from time to time continually. So saying, Mr. Bradford uttered this short prayer.

"GOD our Father, for the name and blood of his Son Christ, be merciful unto us, and unto all his people, and deliver them from all false teachers, and blind guides, through whom, alas! I fear, much hurt will come to this realm of England. God our Father bless us, and keep us in his truth and poor church for ever." Amen.

THEN the archdeacon departed, saying, that he would come again the next morning.

UPON the 16th of February, in the morning, the archdeacon, and the other two with him, came again, and after a few introductory words they sat down.

MR. ARCHDEACON began a very long oration, first repeating what they had said, and how far they had gone over night, and therewith began to prove upwards, a succession of bishops here in England for 800 years; in France, at Lyons, for 1200 years; in Spain, a•• Hispalen, for 800 years; in Italy, at Mil••••, for 1200 years, labouring by this to prove his ••hurch He used all his succession of bishops in the ••ast church for the better confirma|tion of his words, and so concluded with an ex|hortation and an interrogation: the exhortation was, that Mr. Bradford would obey the church; the interrogation, whether Mr. Bradford could shew any such succession, for the demonstration of his church (for so he called it)?

UNTO this long oration Mr. Bradford made this short answer; My memory is bad, so that I cannot particularly answer your oration.

THEREFORE I will do it generally, because your oration is rather to persuade than to prove, and therefore a small answer will serve. If Christ or his apostles, being here on earth, had been required by the prelates of the church then, to have made a demonstration of that church by succession of such high priests as had approved the doctrine which he taught, I think that Christ would have done as I do: that is, have alledged that which upholdeth the church, 〈…〉〈…〉 the word

of God, taught and believed, not by the high priests, which of long time had persecuted it, but by the prophets and other good simple men which perchance were counted heretics of the church: which church was not tied to succession, but to the word of God. And thus to think St. Peter giveth me occasion, when he saith that as it went in the church before Christ's coming, so shall it go in the church after his coming: but then the pil|lars of the church were persecutors of the church: therefore the like we must look for now.

Harps.

I can gather and prove succession in Jerusalem of the high-priests from Aaron's time.

Brad.

I grant it, but not such successions as allowed the truth.

Harps.

Why, did they not allow Mose's law?

Brad.

Yes, and keep it, as touching the books thereof, as you do the bible and holy scriptures. But the true interpretation and meaning of it they did corrupt, as you have done and do, and therefore the persecution which they stirred up against the prophets and Christ, was not for the law, but the interpretation of it. For they taught as you do now, that we must fetch the interpretation of the scriptures at your hands. But to make an end, death I look for daily, yea hourly, and I think my time is but very short; therefore I had need to spend as much time with God as I can whilst I have it, for his help and comfort; and therefore I pray you bear with me, that I do not now particularly and in more words answer your long talk. If I saw death not so near me as it is, I would then weigh every piece of your oration, if you would give me the sum of it, and I would answer accordingly: but because I dare not, and will not leave off looking and preparing for that which is at hand, I shall desire you to hold me excused, though I do as I do, and I heartily thank you for your gentle good-will: I shall heartily pray God our Father to give you the same light and life which I wish to myself. And so Bradford began to rise up.

BUT then Mr. Archdeacon began to tell him he was in a very perilous case, and that he was s••rry to see him so settled. As for death, whether it be nigh or far off, I know not, neither matters it, so that you die well.

Brad.

I doubt not in this case, but that I shall die well: for as I hope and am certain my death shall please the Lord, so I trust I shall die chear|fully to the comfort of his children.

Harps.

But what if you be deceived?

Brad.

What if you should say the sun doth not now shine?

(The sun shone through the window where they sat.)

Harps.

Well, I am sorry to see you so secure and careless.

Brad.

I am more carnally secure, and careless, than I should be: God make me more vigilant. But in this case, I cannot be so secure, for I am most assured I am in the truth.

Harps.

That you are not; for you are out of the catholic church.

Brad.

No, though you have excommunicated me out of your church, yet I am in the catholic church of Christ, and am, and by God's grace shall be a child, and an obedient child of it for ever. I hope Christ will have no less care for me, than he had for the blind man excommunicated out of the synagogue: and further, I am sure that the necessary articles of the faith, I mean the twelve articles of the creed, I confess and believe with that which you call the holy church, so that even your church hath taken too much upon her to excommunicate me for that, which by the testimony of my lord of Durham, in the book of the sacra|ment lately put forth, was free many hundred years after Christ, to believe or not believe.

Harps.

What is that?

Brad.

Transubstantiation.

Harps.

Why, you are not condemned only for that.

Brad.

For that, and because I deny that wick|ed men do receive Christ's body.

Harps.

You agree not with us in the pre|sence, nor in any thing else.

Brad.

How you believe you know: for my part, I confess a presence of whole Christ, God and man, to the faith of the receiver.

Harps.

Nay, you must believe a real presence in the sacrament.

Brad.

In the sacrament? Nay, I will not shut him in, nor tie him to it otherwise than faith seeth and perceiveth. If I should include Christ really present in the sacrament, or tie him to it otherwise than to the faith of the receiver, then the wicked man would receive him, which I do not believe, and by God's grace never will.

Harps.

More is the pity: but a man may easily perceive you make no presence at all, and therefore you agree not therein with us.

Brad.

I confess a presence, and a true presence, but to the faith of the receiver.

WHAT, (said one that stood by) of Christ's very body which died for us?

Brad.

Yes, even of whole Christ, God and man, to feed the faith of the receiver.

Harps.

Why, this is nothing else but to exclude the omnipotency of God, and all kind of miracle in the sacrament.

Brad.

I do not exclude his omnipotency, but you do it rather: for I believe that Christ can accomplish his promise, the substance of bread and wine being there, as well as the accidents, which you believe not. When we come to the sacrament, we come not to feed our bodies, and therefore we have but a little piece of bread; but we come to feed our souls with Christ by faith, which the wicked do want, and therefore they receive no|thing but the bread of the Lord, as Judas did, and not bread the Lord, as the other apostles did.

Harps.

The wicked do receive the very body of Christ, but not the grace of his body.

Brad.

They receive not the body. For Christ's body is no dead carcase: he that receiveth it, re|ceiveth the spirit, which is not without grace.

Harps.

Well, you have many errors. You count the mass an abomination, and yet St. Am|brose said mass, and so he read out of a written book, a sentence of St. Ambrose to prove it.

Brad.

Why, sir, the mass us it is now, was nothing so in St. Ambrose's time. Was not the most part of the canon made since by Gregory and Scholasticus?

Harps.

Indeed a great part of it was made (as you say) by Gregory; but Scholasticus was before St. Ambrose's time.

Brad.

I think not: however I will not contend. St. Gregory says, that the apostles said mass with|out the canon, only with the Lord's prayer.

Harps.

You say true: for the canon is not the greatest part of the mass, the greatest part is the sacrifice, elevation, transubstantiation, and adora|tion.

Brad.

I can away with none of them.

Harps.

No, I think the same: but yet "This do," tells plainly the sacrifice of the church.

Brad.

You confound sacrifices, not discerning betwixt the sacrifice of the church, and for the church. The sacrifice of the church, is no pro|pitiatory sacrifice, but a gratulatory sacrifice. And as for "This do," it is not referred to any sacri|ficing, but to the whole action of taking, eating, &c.

Harps.

You speak not learnedly now: for Christ made his supper only to the twelve apostles, not admitting his mother or any of the seventy disciples to it. Now the apostles do signify the priests.

Brad.

I think you speak as you would men should understand it: for else you would not keep the cup away from the laity. We have great cause to thank you, that you will give us of your bread. For I perceive you order the matter so,

as though Christ had not commanded it to his whole church.

THEN Harpsfield would have proved elevation by a place of Basilius.

Brad.

I have read the place, which seems to make nothing for elevation: but be it as it is, this is no time for me to scan the doubtful places of the doctors with you. I have been in prison long without books and all necessaries for study, and now death draweth nigh, and by your leave I must now leave off, to prepare for it.

Harps.

If I could do you good, I would be right glad, either in soul or body. For you are in a perilous case both ways.

Brad.

Sir, I thank you for your good will. My case is as it is. I thank God it was never so well with me; for death shall be life.

Creswell

It were best for you to desire Mr. Archdeacon that he would make suit for you, that you might have a time to confer.

Harps.

I will do the best I can; for I pity his case.

Brad.

Sir, I will not desire any body to sue for time for me. I am not wavering, neither would I that any body should think I were so. But if you have the charity and love you pretend towards me, and do think I am in an error. I think the same should move you to do as you would be done to. As you think of me, so do I of you, and that you are far out of the way, and I do not only think it, but am also thereof most assured. And with this and such like talk, they departed.

ON the 23d of the month, the archbishop of York, and the bishop of Chichester came to the Compter to speak with Mr. Bradford. When he was come before them, they both▪ and especially the bishop of York, used him very gently: they desired him to sit down, and because ••e would not, they also would not sit. So they all stood, and whether he would or not, they would needs have him put on, not only his night cap, but his upper|cap also, saying unto him, That obedience was better than sacrifice.

WHILE they were thus standing together, my lord of York began to tell Mr. Bradford that they came to him out of pure love and charity, without being sent; and himself, also for the acquaintance he had with Mr. Bradford, more than the bishop of Chichester had: and after commending Mr. Brad|ford's godly life, he concluded with this question, How he was certain of salvation and of his re|ligion.

AFTER thanks for their good will, Mr. Bradford answered, By the word of God, even by the scrip|tures, I am certain of salvation and religion.

York.

Very well said: but how do you know the word of God and the scriptures, but by the church?

Brad.

Indeed my lord, the church was and is a means to bring a man to know the scriptures and the word of God, as the woman of Samaria was the means by which the Samaritans knew Christ: but when they had heard him speak, they said, Now we know that he is Christ, not because of thy words, but because we ourselves have heard; so after we come to the hearing and reading of the scriptures shewed unto us, and discerned by the church, we do believe them, and know them as Christ's sheep, not because the church saith they are the scriptures, but because they be so, being assured thereof by the same spirit which wrote and spake them.

York.

You know in the apostles time at first the word was not written.

Brad.

True, if you mean it for some books of the New Testament; but else for the Old Testa|ment St. Peter tells us, "We have a more sure word of prophecy;" not that it is simply so, but in respect of the apostles, which being alive and subject to infirmity, attributed to the written word more weight, as wherewith no fault could be found, whereas for the infirmity of their persons men perchance might have found some fault at

their preaching; although in very deed no less obe|dience and faith ought to have been given to the one, than to the other; for all proceedeth from one spi|rit of tru••••▪

York.

That place of St. Peter is not so to be understood of the word written.

Brad.

Yes, sir, that it is, and of none other.

Chichester.

Yes, indeed, Mr. Bradford doth tell you truly in that point.

York.

Well, you know that Irenaeus and others do magnify much, and alledge the church against the heretics, and not the scripture.

Brad.

True, for they had to do with such here|tics as did deny the scriptures, and yet did magnify the apostles, so they were enforced to use the autho|rity of those churches wherein the apostles had taught, and had still retained the same doctrine.

Chich.

You speak the very truth: for the here|tics did refuse all scriptures, except it were a piece of St. Luke's gospel.

Brad.

Then the alledging of the church cannot be principally used against me, which am so far from denying of the scriptures, that I appeal to them ut|terly, as to the only judge.

York.

A pretty matter, that you will take upon you to judge the church! I pray you, where hath your church been hitherto? For the church of Christ is catholic and visible hitherto.

Brad.

My lord, I do not judge the church when I discern it from the congregation, and those which be not the church; and I never denied the church to be catholic and visible, although at some times it is more visible than at others.

Chich.

I pray you tell me where the church which allowed your doctrine, was these 400 years?

Brad.

I will tell you my lord, or rather you shall tell yourself, if you will tell this one thing, Where the church was in Elijah's time, when Eli|jah said he was left alone?

Chich.

That is no answer.

Brad.

I am sorry that you say so: but this I will tell your lordship, that if you had the same eyes wherewith a man might have espied the church then, you would not say it were no answer. The fault why the church is not seen by you, is not be|cause the church is not visible, but because your eyes are not clear enough to see it.

Chich.

You are much deceived in making this comparison betwixt the church then and now.

York.

Very well spoken, my lord; for Christ said, "I will build my church;" and not I do, or have built it: but I will build it.

Brad.

My lords, St. Peter teacheth me to make this comparison, saying, "As in the people there were false prophets, which were most in estima|tion before Christ's coming, so shall there be false teachers amongst the people after Christ's coming, and very many shall follow them." And as for your future tense, I hope your grace will not there|by conclude Christ's church not to have been before, but rather that there is no building in the church but Christ's work only: for Paul and Appollos be but waterers.

Chich.

In good faith I am sorry to see you so light in judging the church.

York.

He hath taken upon him as they do all to judge the church. A man shall never come to certainty that doth as they do.

Brad.

My lords, I speak simply what I think, and desire reason to answer my objections. Your affections and sorrows cannot be my rules. If you consider the order and case of my condemnation, I cannot think but that it should something move your honours. You know it well enough, (for you have heard it) no matter was laid against me, but was gathered upon mine own confession. Because I denied transubstantiation, and the wicked to receive Christ's body in the sacrament, therefore I was con|demned

and excommunicated, but not by the church, although the pillars of the church (as they be ac|counted) did it.

Chich.

No; I heard say the cause of your im|prisonment was, for that you exhorted the people to take the sword in one hand, and the mattock in the other.

Brad.

My lord, I never meant any such thing, nor spake any thing in that manner.

York.

Yea, and you behaved yourself before the council so stoutly at first, that you would defend the religion then; and therefore worthily were you im|prisoned.

Brad.

Your grace heard me answer my lord chancellor to that point. But suppose I had been so stout as they and your grace make it, were not the laws of the realm then on my side? Where|fore unjustly then was I imprisoned: only that which my lord chancellor propounded, was my confession of Christ's truth against transubstan|tiation, and of that which the wicked do receive, as I said

York.

You deny the presence.

Brad.

I do not, to the faith of the worthy re|ceivers.

York.

Why? what is that to say other, than that Christ lieth not on the altar?

Brad.

My lord, I believe no such presence.

Chich.

It seemeth that you have not read Chry|sostom: for he proveth it.

Brad.

Hitherto I have been kept well enough without books: howbeit this I do remember of Chrysostom, that he saith that Christ lieth upon the altar, as the seraphims with their tongs touch our lips with the coals of the altar in heaven, which is an hyperbolical speech, of which you know Chry|sostom is full.

York.

It is evident that you are too far gone; but let us come then to the church, out of which you are excommunicated.

Brad.

I am not excommunicate out of Christ's church, my lord, although they which seem to be in the church, and of the church, have excommunicat|ed me, as the poor blind man was, John ix. I am sure Christ receiveth me.

HERE, after much talk of excommunication, at length Mr. Bradford said,

ASSUREDLY, as I think you did well to depart from the Romish church, so I think you have done wickedly to couple yourselves to it again, for you can never prove that, which you call the mother church, to be Christ's church.

Chich.

Ah, Mr. Bradford, you were but a child when this matter began. I was a young man, and then coming from the university, I went with the world; but I tell you it was always against my conscience.

Brad.

I was but a child then, howbeit as I told you, I think you have done evil For you are come, and have brought others to that wicked man which sitteth in the temple of God, that is, in the church: for it cannot be understood of Mahomet, or any out of the church, but of such as bear rule in the church.

York.

See how you build your faith upon such places of scripture as are most obscure, to deceive yourself, as though you were in the church, where you are not.

Brad.

Well, my lord, though I might by fruits judge of you and others, yet will I not utterly ex|clude you out of the church. And if I were in your case, I would not condemn him utterly that is of my faith in the sacrament, knowing as you know, that at least 800 years after Christ, as my lord of Dur|ham writeth, it was free to believe or not to believe transubstantiation.

York.

This is a toy that you have found out of your own brain; as though a man not believing

as the church doth, that is, transubstantiation, were of the church.

Chich.

He is an heretic, and so none of the church, that doth hold any doctrine against the de|finition of the church, as a man to hold against tran|substantiation. Cyprian was no heretic, though he believed re-baptizing of them who were baptized by heretics, because he held it before the church had defined it, whereas if he had held it after, then had he been a heretic.

Brad.

Oh, my lord, will you condemn to the devil any man that believeth truly the twelve arti|cles of the faith, (wherein I take the unity of Christ's church to consist) although in some points he believe not the definition of that which you call the church? I doubt not but that he which holdeth firmly the articles of our belief, though in other things he dis|sent from your definitions, yet he shall be saved.

YEA, said both the bishops, this is your divinity.

Brad.

No, it is St. Paul's, who saith, that if they hold the foundation, Christ, though they build upon him straw and stubble, yet they shall be saved.

York.

Lord God, how you delight to lean to so hard and dark places of the scriptures.

Chich.

I will shew you that Luther did excom|municate Zuinglius for this matter, and so he read a place of Luther making for his purpose.

Brad.

My lord, what Luther writeth, as you mind it not, no more do I in this case. My faith is not built on Luther, Zuinglius, or Oecolampa|dius, in this point: and indeed to tell you truly, I never read any of their works in this matter. As for them, I do think assuredly, that they were God's children, and are saints with him.

York.

Well, you are out of the communion of the church.

Brad.

I am not, for it consisteth and is in faith.

York.

Lo, how you make your church invisible; for you would have the communion of it consist in faith.

Brad.

For to have communion with the church needeth no visibleness of it; for communion con|sisteth, as I said, in faith, and not in exterior cere|monies, as appeareth both by St. Paul, who would have one faith, and by Irenaeus to Victor, for the observation of Easter, saying, that disagreeing about fasting should not break the agreement of faith.

Chich.

The same place hath often even wound|ed my conscience, because we separated ourselves from the see of Rome.

Brad.

Well, God forgive you, for you have done evil in bringing England thither again.

HERE my lord of York took a paper-book of common places, and read a piece of St. Augustine, how that there were many things that held St. Au|gustine in the bosom of the church; consent of people and nations, authority confirmed with mira|cles, nourished with hope, increased with charity, established with antiquity: besides this, there hold|eth me in the church, said St. Augustine, the suc|cession of priests from Peter's seat until this present bishop. Last of all, the very name of catholic did hold me, &c. Lo! (said he) how say you to this of St. Augustine? Paint me out your church thus.

Brad.

My lord, these words of St. Augustine make as much for me as for you: although I might answer, that all this, if they had been so firm as you make them, might have been alledged against Christ and his apostles. For there was the law and the ceremonies consented to by the whole people, confirmed with miracles, antiquity, and continual succession of bishops from Aaron's time until that present.

Chich.

In good faith, Mr. Bradford, you make too much of the state of the church before Christ's coming.

Brad.

Therein I do but as St. Peter teacheth, 2 Pet. ii. and St. Paul very often. You would

gladly have your church here very glorious, like a most pleasant lady. But Christ saith, and so may his church say, "Blessed are they that are not of|fended at me."

York.

Yea, you think that none is of the church, but such as suffer persecution.

Brad.

What I think, God knoweth: I pray your grace to judge me by my words, and mark what St. Paul saith; "All that will live godly in Christ Jesus, must suffer persecution." Sometimes Christ's church hath rest here; but commonly it is not so, and especially towards the end her form will be more unseemly.

York.

But what say you to St. Augustine? Where is your church that hath the consent of the people and nations?

Brad.

Even all people and nations that be God's people have consented with me, and I with them in the doctrine of faith.

York.

Lo, you go about to shift off all things.

Brad.

No, my lord; I mean simply, and God knoweth I so speak.

York.

St. Augustine doth here talk of succession, even from St. Peter's seat.

Brad.

Yea, that seat then was not so much cor|rupt as it is now.

York.

Well, you always judge the church.

Brad.

No, my lord, Christ's sheep discern Christ's voice, but they judge it not; so they dis|cern the church, but judge her not.

York.

Yes, that they do.

Brad.

Not so, please your grace: and yet full well may one not only doubt, but judge also of the Romish church; for she obeyeth not Christ's voice, as Christ's true church doth.

York.

Wherein?

Brad.

In Latin service, and robbing the laity of Christ's cup in the sacrament, and in many other things, in which it committeth most horrible sa|crilege.

Chich.

Why? Latin service was in England when the pope was gone.

Brad.

True; the time was in England when the pope was away, but not all popery; as in king Henry's days.

York.

Latin service was appointed to be sung and had in the choir, where only were the clergy, that is, such as understood Latin, the people fitting in the body of the church praying their own private prayers; and this may well be yet seen by making of the chancel and choir, so as the people could not come in, or hear them.

Brad.

Yea, but in St. Chrysostom's time, and also in the Latin church in St. Jerome's time, all the church, said he, answereth again mightily, A|men. Whereby we may see that the prayers were made so, that both the people heard and understood them.

Chich.

You are to blame, to say that the church robbeth the people of the cup.

Brad.

Well, my lord, term it as you please: all men know that the laity hath none of it.

Chich.

Indeed I wish that the church would de|fine again, that they might have it, for my part.

Brad.

If God make it free. who can define to make it bound?

York.

Well, Mr. Bradford, we lose our labour: for you seek to put away all things which are told you for your good: your church no man can know.

Brad.

Yes, that you well may.

York.

I pray you whereby?

Brad.

Forsooth Chrysostom saith, only by the scriptures; and this you well know he speaketh very often.

York.

Indeed that of Chrysostom is an imper|fect work, which may be doubted of. The church is best known by succession of bishops.

Brad.

No, my lord, Lyra upon Matthew writ|eth full well, that "The church consisteth not in men by reason either of secular or temporal power, but in men endued with true knowledge, and con|fession of faith, and of verity.

AND in Hilary's time, you know he writeth to Auxentius, that the church was hidden rather in caves and holes, than did glister and shine in thrones of pre-eminence.

THEN came one of the servants, and told them, that my lord of Durham tarried for them at the arch|bishop of York's house; and this was after they had been three hours with Mr. Bradford. And after the man was come, they put up ther written books of common places, and said that they lament|ed his case: they desired him to read over a book which did Mr. Crome good; and so wishing him good in words, they went their way, and poor Brad|ford to his prison.

AFTER this communication with the bishops was ended, within two days following came into the Compter two Spanish friars to talk with Mr. Brad|ford, sent (as they said) by the earl of Derby; of whom one was the king's confessor, the other was Alphonsus, who had before written a popish book against heresies, the effect of which their reasoning here likewise followeth.

UPON the 25th day of February, about eight o'clock in the morning, when these two friars came to the Compter where Mr. Bradford was prisoner, they desired he might be called. Then one friar, who was the king's confessor, asked in Latin (for all their discourse was in Latin) of Bradford, whe|ther he had not seen or heard of one Alphonsus that had written against heresies

Brad.

I do not know him.

Conf••s.

Well, this man

(pointing to Alphonsus)

is he. We are come to you of love and charity, by the means of the earl of Derby, because you desire to confer with us.

Brad.

I never desired your coming, nor to con|fer with you, or any other But seeing you are come of charity, as you say, I cannot but thank you: and as concerning conference, though I desire it not, yet I will not refuse to talk with you if you will.

Alphonsus.

It were requisite that you did pray to God, that you might follow the direction of God's Spirit, that he would inspire you, so that you be not addicted to your own self-will or wit.

WHEREUPON Mr. Bradford made a prayer, and besought God to direct all their wills, words and works, as the will, words, and works of his children for ever.

Alphon.

Yea, you must pray with your heart. For if you speak with the tongue only, God will not give you his grace.

Brad.

Sir, do not judge, lest you be judged. You have heard my words; now charity would have you leave the judgment of the heart to God.

Alph.

You must be as it were a neuter, and no wedded to yourself, but as one standing in doubt: pray and be ready to receive what God shall in|spire; for in vain laboureth our tongue to speak else.

Brad.

Sir, my sentence, if you mean it for re|ligion, must not be in doubting or uncertainty, as I thank God I am certain in that for which I am con|demned: I have no cause to doubt of it, but rather to be more certain of it; and therefore I pray God to confirm me more in it. For it is his truth; and because it is so certain and true that it may abide the light, I dare be bold to have it lo••ked on, and confer it with you, or any man; in respect where|of I am both glad of your coming, and thank you for it.

Alph.

What is the matter whereof you were condemned? we know not.

Brad.

Sir, I have been in prison almost two years: I never transgressed any of their laws for which I might justly be imprisoned▪ and now am I condemned, only because I frankly conf••ss••d▪ where••of I repent not, my faith concerning the sacrament▪

when I was demanded in these two points; one, that there is no transubstantiation; the other, that the wicked do not receive Christ's body.

Alph.

Let in look a little on the first. Do you not believe that Christ is present really, and corpo|rally in the form of bread?

Brad.

No, I do believe that Christ is present to the faith of the worthy receiver, as there is present bread and wine to the senses and outward man: as for any such presence of including and placing Christ, I believe not, nor dare I believe.

Alph.

I am sure you believe Christ's natural body is circumscriptible.

AND here he made much ado of the two natures of Christ, how that the one is every where, and the other is in his proper place, demanding such ques|tions as no wise man would have spent any time about. At length, because the friar had forgot to conclude, Mr. Bradford put him in mind of it, and thus then at last he concluded, How that because Christ's body was circum••••riptible, concerning the human nature in heaven, therefore it was so in the bread.

Brad.

How hangeth this together? Even as if you should say; Because you are here, Ergo, it must needs follow that you are at Rome. For thus you reason; Because Christ's body is in heaven: Ergo, it is in the sacrament under the form of bread: which no wise man will grant.

Alph.

Why? will you believe nothing but that which is expressly spoken in the scriptures?

Brad.

Yes, sir, I will believe whatsoever you shall by demonstration out of the scriptures declare unto me.

HE is obstinate, quoth Alphonsus to his fellow: and then turning to Bradford, said, Is not God able to do it?

Brad.

Yes, but here the question is of God's will, and not of his power.

Alph.

Why? doth he not say plainly, This is my body?

Brad.

Yes, and I deny not but that it is so, to the faith of the worthy receiver.

Alph.

To the faith! how is that?

Brad.

Forsooth sir, as I have no tongue to express it: so I know you have no ears to hear and understand it. For faith is more than man can utter.

Alph.

But I can tell all that I believe.

Brad.

You believe not much then. For if you believe the joys of heaven, and believe no more thereof than you can tell, you will not yet desire to come thither. For as the mind is more capable and receivable than the mouth, so it conceiveth more than the tongue can express.

Alph.

Christ saith it is his body.

Brad.

And so say I, after a certain manner.

Alph.

After a certain manner! that is, after another manner than it is in heaven.

Brad.

St. Augustine telleth it more plainly, that it is Christ's body after the same manner as circumcision was the covenant of God, and the sacrament of faith is faith; or to make it more plain, as baptism and water of baptism is regene|ration.

Alph.

Very well said: baptism and the water thereof, is a sacrament of God's grace and Spirit in the water cleansing the baptized.

Brad.

No, sir, away with your inclosing: but this I grant, that after the same sort Christ's body is in the bread, in which sort the grace and Spirit of God is in the water.

Alph.

God's grace is in the water by signifi|cation.

Brad.

So is the body in the bread in the sacra|ment.

Alph.

You are much deceived, in that you make no difference between the sacraments that

be by-standers, and the sacraments that are tran|sitory and passers by. As for example, the sacra|ment of orders, which you deny, though St. Augustine affirmeth it, is a stander, although the ceremony be past. But in baptism so soon as the body is washed, the water ceaseth to be a sacra|ment.

Brad.

Very good, and so it is in the supper of the Lord; no longer than it is in use, is it Christ's sacrament.

HERE the friar was in a wonderful rage, and spake so loud (a•• he had often done before) that the whole house rang again. This friar had the character of being a very learned man, but surely by his behaviour here he had very little patience, for if Bradford had been any thing hot, one house could not have held them. At length they came to this point, That Bradford could not find in scripture that baptism and the Lord's supper bare any similitude together. And here he triumphed before the conquest, saying, that these men would have nothing but scripture, and yet are able to prove nothing by the scripture.

Brad.

Be patient, and you shall see that by the scripture I will find baptism and the Lord's supper coupled together.

Alph.

No, that thou canst never do. Let me see a text of it.

Brad.

St. Paul saith, "That as we are bapti|zed into one body, so were we Potati in uno spiritu, i. e. we have drank of one spirit," meaning the cup in the Lord's supper.

Alph.

St. Paul hath no such words.

Brad.

Yes, that he hath.

Confes.

I think he hath not.

Brad.

Give me a Testament, and I will shew you.

SO a priest that sat by them gave him his Test|ament, and he shewed them the plain text. Then they looked one upon another. In fine, the friar made this simple shift, that St. Paul spake not of the sacrament.

Brad.

Well, the text is plain enough, and there are many of the fathers which do so understand the place▪ for Chrysostom doth expound it so.

ALPHONSUS which had the testament in his hand, desirous to suppress this foil, turned the leaves of the book from leaf to leaf, till he came to the place, 1 Cor. xi. and there he read how that he was guilty, which made no difference of the Lord's body.

Brad.

Yea, but therewith he saith, "He that eateth of the bread:" calling it bread still: and that after consecration (as you call it), as in the tenth of the Corinthians he saith; "The bread which we break," &c.

Alph.

Oh how ignorant are you, who know not that things after their conversion do retain the same names which they had before, as Moses's rod: and calling for a bible, after he had found the place, he began to triumph: but Bradford cooled him quickly, saying,

SIR, there is mention made of the conversion, as well as that the same appeared to the sense. But here you cannot find it so. Find me one word how the bread is converted, and I will then say, you bring some matter that maketh for you.

AT these words Alphonsus was troubled, and at length he said, That Bradford hanged on his own sense.

Brad.

No, that do I not: for I will bring you the fathers of the church 800 years after Christ, to confirm what I speak.

Alph.

No, you have the church against you.

Brad.

I have not Christ's church against me.

Alph.

Yes, that you have. What is the church?

Brad.

Christ's wife, the chair and seat of truth.

Alph.

Is she visible?

Brad.

Yes, she is so to them that will put on the spectacles of God's word to look on her.

Alph.

This church hath defined the contrary, and that I will prove by all the good fathers from Christ's ascension, even for 800 years at least continually.

Brad.

What will you so prove? Transubstan|tiation?

Alph.

Yea, that the bread is turned into Christ's body.

Brad.

You speak more than you can do.

Alph.

That do I not.

Brad.

Then will I give place.

Alph.

Will you believe?

Brad.

Belief is God's gift; therefore I cannot promise: but I t••ll you I will give place; and I hope I shall believe his truth always, so good is he to me in Christ my Saviour.

HERE the friar found great fault with Mr. Brad|ford's answer. But this he let pass, and repeated his question, if he could prove it as he said, whe|ther he would give place?

Brad.

Yes, that I will. Then called he for paper, pen, and ink, to write; and then said I, Suppose that I prove by the testimony of the fathers, that continually for 800 years after Christ at least, they did believe that the substance of bread doth remain in the sacrament, what will you do?

Alph.

I will give place.

Brad.

Then write you here that you will give place if I so prove, and I will write that I will give place if you so prove: because you are the elder, you shall have the pre-eminency.

HERE the friar fumed marvelously, and said; I came not to learn from thee: are not here wit|nesses? (meaning the priests) are not they sufficient? But the man was so angry, that if Mr. Bradford had not passed over this matter of writing, the friar would have gone to plain scolding.

AT length the king's confessor asked Mr. Brad|ford what the second question was?

Brad.

That wicked men receive not Christ's body in the sacrament, as St. Augustine speaketh of Judas, that he received the bread of the Lord, but not bread the Lord.

Alph.

St. Augustine saith not so.

Brad.

Yes, that he does. So they arose and talked no more of the matter. Thus went they away, without bidding Bradford farewel.

AFTER they were gone, one of the priests came, and desired Bradford not to be so obstinate.

Brad.

Sir, be not you so wavering; in all the scriptures you cannot find these words, There is not bread.

Priest.

Yes, that I can, in five places.

Brad.

Then I will eat your book. So the book was opened, but no place found; and he went his way smiling. God help us!

IT followed after this, upon the 21st day of March, that by means of one of the earl of Derby's men, there came to the Compter to dinner one Mr. Collier, once warden of Manchester, and the said servant of the earl of Derby, of whom Mr. Brad|ford learned, that Dr. Weston, dean of Westmin|ster, would be with him in the afternoon about two o'clock. At dinner time, when the said warden discommended king Edward, and went about to set forth the authority of the pope, which Bradford withstood, defending the king's faith, that it was catholic, and that the authority of the bishop of Rome's supremacy was usurped, bring|ing forth the testimony of Gregory, which affirmeth the name of supreme head, to be a title of the forerunner to Antichrist. A woman prisoner was brought in, whereupon the said Bradford took occasion to rise from the table, and so went to his

prison chamber to pray to God for his grace and assistance therein, continuing there till he was cal|led down to speak with Dr. Weston, who was then come in.

MR. BRADFORD then being called down, as soon as he entered into the hall, Dr. Weston very gently took him by the hand, and asked how he did, with such other talk. At length he desired them to go out of the chamber: so they all went out, save Dr. Weston himself, Mr. Collier, the earl of Der|bey's servant, the sub-dean of Westminster, the keeper, Mr. Claydon, and the parson of the church near the Compter.

NOW when he began with Mr. Bradford, to tell how that he had often intended to have come unto him, being desired by the earl of Derby: and (said he) after I perceived by this man, that you could be contented rather to speak with me, than any other; I could not but come to do you all the good I can; for you may be sure I will never hurt you.

SIR, replied Mr. Bradford, when I perceived by the report of my lord's servant, that you did bear me good will, more (as he said) than any other of your sort, I told him then, that I could be better content and more willing to talk with you, if you should come unto me. This did I say; otherwise I desired not your coming.

West.

Well, Mr. Bradford, now I am come to talk with you: but before we enter into any talk, certain principles we must agree upon, which sh••ll be this day's work.

FIRST, said he, I shall desire you to put away all vain glory, and not hold any thing for the praise of the world.

Brad.

Sir, St. Augustine maketh that indeed a piece of the definition of an heretic; which if I cannot put away clean, (for I think there will be a spice of it remain in us, as long as this flesh liveth) yet I promise you by the grace of God, that I pur|pose not to yield to i••. God I hope will never suffer it to bear rule in them that strive against it, and desire all the dregs of it utterly to be driven out of us.

West.

I am glad to hear you say so, although indeed I think you do not so much esteem it as others do.

SECONDLY, I would desire you that you will put away singularity in your judgment and o|pinions.

Brad.

Sir, God forbid that I should stick to my singularity or private judgment in God's religion. Hitherto I have not desired it, neither do, nor mind at any time to hold any other doctrine than i•• public and catholic, (understood catholic as good men do) according to God's word.

West.

Very well, this is a good day's work, I hope to do you good: and therefore now, thirdly, I shall pray you to write me the heads of those things whereupon you stand in the sacrament, and to send them to me betwixt this and Wednesday next: until which time, yea, until I come to you again, be assured that you are without all peril of death. Of my fidelity, I warrant you, therefore away with all doubts, &c.

Brad.

Sir, I will write to you the grounds I lean to in this matter. As for death, if it come, welcome be it; this which you require of me, shall be no great hindrance to me therein.

West.

You know that St. Augustine was a Manichean, yet was he converted at length▪ so have I good hope of you▪

Brad.

Sir, because I will nor flatter you, I would you should flatly know, that I am even set|tled in that religion for which I am condemned.

West.

Yea, but if it be not the truth, and you see evident matter to the contrary, will you not then give place?

Brad.

God forbid, but that I should always give place to the truth.

West.

I would have you so to pray.

Brad.

So I do, and that he will more and more confirm me in it, as I thank God he hath done and doth.

West.

Yea, but pray with a condition, if you be in it.

Brad.

No, sir, I cannot pray so, because I am settled and assured of his truth.

WELL, said Weston, as the learned bishop an|swered St. Augustine's mother, that though he was obstinate, yet the tears of such a mother could not but win her son: so also I hope your prayers (for then Bradford's eyes did shew that he had wept in prayer) cannot but be heard by God, though not as you would, yet as best shall please him. Do you not remember the history thereof?

Brad.

Yea, sir, I think it is of St. Ambrose.

West.

No, that i•• is not. And here Weston would have laid a wager, and began to triumph, saying to Bradford, As you are overseen herein, so are you in other things.

Brad.

Well, sir, I will not contend with you for the name. This (I remember) St. Augustine writeth in his confessions.

AFTER this talk Dr. Weston began to tell Mr. Bradford, that the people were persuaded by him to withstand the queen.

WHEREUNTO Bradford answering again, bade him hang him up as a traitor and a thief, if ever he encouraged any to rebellion: his keeper and the priests that were there, affirmed the same. At that time there was much talk to little purpose. Dr. Weston declared moreover, that he had saved men going in the cart to be hanged and such like.

THE end was this, that Bradford should send unto him the heads of the doctrine of the supper, and after Wednesday he would come unto him again; and thus he departed, after he had drunk to him in beer and wine.

WE omit here to talk of Oxford, of books of German writers, the fear of death, and such other talk which are to no purpose.

IN the mean time, when Mr. Bradford had written his reasons and arguments, and had sent them to Dr. Weston, soon after, about the 28th of March, there came to the Compter Dr. Pen|dleton, and with him the aforesaid Mr. Collier, sometime warden of Manchester, and Stephen Bech. After salutations, Dr Pendleton began to speak to Mr. Bradford, that he was sorry for his trouble. And further, said he, after that I knew you could be content to talk with me, I made the more speed, being as ready to do you good, and serve you what I can, as you would wish.

Brad.

Sir, the manner how I was content to speak with you was on this sort: Mr. Bech often asked me whom he should bring unto me, and na|med you amongst others; and I said I would rather speak with you than with any other. Now the cause why I so would, I will briefly tell you. I re|member that once you were, (as far as a man might judge) of the religion that I am of at this present, and I remember that you have earnestly set forth the same. Gladly therefore would I learn of you what thing it was that moved your conscience to alter, and gladly would I see what thing it is that you have seen since which you saw not before.

Pendleton.

I do not know for what you are condemned.

Brad.

Transubstantiation is the cause for which I am condemned, and because I deny that wicked men do receive Christ's body: wherein I would desire you to shew me what reasons which before you knew not, did move your conscience now to alter. For once, (as I said) you were as I am in religion.

HERE Mr. Pendleton, half amazed, began to excuse himself, as though he had not fully denied transubstantiation indeed, although I said, says he, that the word was not in scripture; and so he made an endless tale of the thing that moved him to ••lter: but (said he) I will gather you the places which moved me, and send you them. And here

he desired Mr. Bradford that he might have a copy of that which he had sent to Dr. Weston; which Mr. Bradford promised him.

SOME reasoning also they had, whether evil men did receive Christ's body, Bradford denying, and Pendleton affirming. Mr. Bradford said, that they received not the spirit: Ergo, not the body; for it is no dead carcase. Hereto Mr. Bradford brought also St. Augustine, how Judas received "the bread of the Lord," and not "bread the Lord," and that he must be in Christ's body, which must receive the body of Christ. Pendleton went about to put it away with Idem, and not Ad idem, and how that In Corpore Christi was to be un|derstood of all that are in the visible church of God's elect. Mr. Bradford denied this to be St. Augustine's meaning, and said also that the allega|tion of Idem, and not Ad idem, could not make for that purpose. They talked more of transubstan|tiation, Pendleton quoting Cyprian, The nature of bread is changed, &c. And Mr. Bradford said, that in that place, nature did not signify substance. As the nature of an herb is not the substance of it; so the bread changed in nature is not to be taken for changed in substance: for now it is ordained not for food of the body simply, but rather for the soul. Here also Bradford alledged the opinion of Gelasius. Pendleton said, he was a pope. Yes, said Bradford, but his faith was my faith in the sacrament, if you would receive it.

THEY reasoned also whether accidents were things or no. If they are things, said Mr. Brad|ford, then they are substances; and if they be substances, they are earthly, and then there are earthly substances in the sacrament, as Irenaeus says, which must needs be bread. But Pendleton said, that the colour w••s the earthly thing, and called it an accidental substance.

WE omit what passed about my lord of Canter|bury, of Peter Martyr's book, of Pendleton's letter laid to Bradford's charge when he was condemned, with other talk about the church; whether Dic Ec|clesiae was spoken of the universal church, or of a particular church, at length Mr. Pendleton grant|ed that it was spoken of a particular church) also of vain-glory, which he desired Mr. Bradford to be|ware of, and such like talk. A little before his departing, Mr. Bradford said thus: Master Doctor, as I said to Dr. Weston before, so say I to you now, that I am the same man in religion against transub|stantiation still, as I was when I came into prison; for hitherto I have seen nothing in any one point to convince me of me of the contrary. At which words Mr. Pendleton was something moved, and said it was no catholic doctrine. Yes, says Mr. Bradford, and that I will prove even by the testimony of the catholic fathers till the council of Lateran, or there|abouts. Then Pendleton went his way, saying that he would often come to Mr. Bradford.

THE same day in the afternoon, about five o'clock, Dr. Weston came to Mr. Bradford, and after gentle salutat••ons, he desired every man present to depart, and th••y two sat down. And after he thanked Mr. Bradford for his writing to him, he pulled out of his bosom the writing which Mr. Bradford had sent him. The writing is as follows:

Certain Reasons against TRANSUBSTANTIATION, col|lected by Mr. JOHN BRADFORD, and given to Dr. WESTON, and others.

THAT which is former (saith Tertullian) is true; that which is latter is false. But the doctrine of transubstantiation is a late doctrine, for it was not defined generally before the council of Lateran, about 1215 years after Christ's coming, under pope Innocent, the third of that name. For before that time it was free for all men to believe, or not believe it, as the bishop of Durham doth witness in his book of the presence of Christ in his supper, lately published. Therefore, the doctrine of transubstantiation is false.

2. THAT the words of Christ's supper be figura|tive, the circumstances of the scriptures, the analogy or proportion of the sacraments, and the opinions of all the holy fathers, which were, and wrote for the space of 1000 years after Christ's ascension, do teach: whereupon it follows, that there was no transub|stantiation.

3. THAT the Lord gave to his disciples bread, and called it his body, the scriptures do witness. For he gave that, and called it his body, which he

took in his hand, whereon he gave thanks, which also he brake, and gave to his disciples, that is to say, bread, as the fathers Irenaeus, Tertullian, Ori|gen, Cyprian, Epiphanius, Augustine, and all the residue which are of antiquity, do affirm: but inas|much as the substance of bread and wine is another thing than the substance of the body and blood of Christ, it plainly appeareth that there is no transub|stantiation.

4. THE bread is no more transubstantiate than the wine: but that the wine is not transubstantiate, St. Matthew and St. Mark teach us: for they wit|ness that Christ said, he would drink no more of the fruit of the vine, which was not blood but wine: and therefore it follows, that there is no trans••b|stantiation. Chrysostom upon St. Matthew, and Cyprian do affirm this reason.

5. AS the bread in the Lord's suppe•• is Christ's natural body, so it is his mystical body: for the same Spirit that spake of it, This is my body, said also, For we many are one bread, ••ne body, &c. but now it is not the mystical body by transubstan|tiation, and therefore it is not his natural body by transubstantiation.

6. THE words spoken over the cup in St. Luke and St. Paul, are not so mighty and effectual, as to transubstantiate it: for then the cup, or that which is in it, should be transubstantiated into the New Testament: therefore the words spoken over the bread, are not so mighty as to make transubstan|tiation.

7. ALL that doctrine which agreeth with those churches which be apostolical mother churches, is to be counted for truth, because it holdeth that which these churches received of the apostles, the apostles of Christ, and Christ of God. But it is manifest that the doctrine taught at this present by the church of Rome, concerning transubstantiation, doth not agree with the apostolical and mother churches of Greece, of Corinth, of Philippos, Co|lossia, Thessalonica, and Ephesus, which never taught transubstantiation; yea, it agreeth not with the doctrine of the church of Rome, as it was taught in times past. For pope Gelasius, setting forth the doctrine which that see then held, doth manifestly confute the error of transubstantiation, and ••••prov|eth them for sacrilege who divided the mystery, and kept the cup from the laity: therefore the doc|trine of transubstantiation agreeth not with the truth.

THIS was the writing which Weston pulled out of his bosom; and yet before he began to read it, he told Mr. Bradford that he had inquired of his conversation at Cambridge since his last being with him; and, said he, because you are a man not given to the glory of the world, I will speak it before your face; your life I have lea••ned was ••••••ays such there, as all men, even the greatest e••emies you have, cannot but praise, and th••••••fore 〈◊〉〈◊〉 love you much better than ever I did; ••ut now I will read over your arguments, and so we will confer them. They are such that a man may well perceive you stand on ••onscience, and therefore I am the more ready and glad to pity you. So he began to read the first▪ to which he said, that though the word 〈◊〉〈◊〉 on began but lately, yet the thing al|ways was, and hath been since Christ's institution.

Brad.

I do not contend, or insist upon the word only, but upon the thing which is as new as the word.

THEN Dr. Weston went to the second, and there brought out St. Augustine, how that if an evil man going to the devil, did make his will, his son and heir would not say his father did lie in it, or speak tropically: much more Christ, going to God, did never lie, or use any figurative speech in his last will and testament. Do you not remember this place of St. Augustine, said he?

Brad.

Yes, sir, but I do not remember St. Au|gustine hath those words tropically, or figuratively, as you rehearse them: for any man may speak a thing figuratively and not lie: and so Christ did in his last supper.

AFTER this Dr. Weston went to the third, and brought forth Cyprian, how that the nature of bread is turned into flesh. Here, says he, my lord of Canterbury expoundeth nature for quality, by Gelasius. Which interpretation serves for the an|swer of your argument, that Christ called bread his

body: that is, the quality, form, and appearance of bread. And further, the scripture is wont to call things by the same names which they had be|fore, as Simon the leper; he was not so at that time, but because he had been so.

Brad.

Cyprian wrote before Gelasius; therefore Cyprian must not expound Gelasius, but Gelasius Cyprian; and so they both teach, that bread re|maineth still. As for things having still the names they had, it is no answer, except you could shew that this now were not bread, as easily as a man might have known and seen then Simon to have been healed and clear from his leprosy.

AFTER this Dr. Weston went to the fourth, of the cup, which he did not fully read, but digressed into a long talk of Cyprian's epistle De Aquatiis; also of St. Augustine, expounding the breaking of bread by Christ to his two disciples going to Em|maus, to be the sacrament; with such other talk to little purpose: and therefore Mr. Bradford prayed him, that inasmuch as he had written the reasons that established his faith against transubstantiation, so he would likewise do to him, that is, answer him by writing, and shew him more reasons in writing to confirm transubstantiation. This Dr. Weston pro|mised to do, and said that he would send or bring it to Mr. Bradford again within three days.

THUS when he had read over the arguments, and here and there spoke little to the purpose for the avoiding of them, and Mr. Bradford had prayed him to give him his answers in writing: then he began to tell Mr. Bradford how and what he had done for Mr. Grimoald, and that Mr. Bradford needed not to fear any reproach or slander he should suffer, meaning probably to have Mr. Bradford secretly to come to them as Grimoald did; for he subscribed.

Brad.

Mr. Dean, I would not have you con|ceive that I mind the shame of men in this matter; I would rather have you think as the very truth is, that hitherto I have not heard or seen any thing to weaken my faith against transubstantiation, so I am no less settled in it than I was at my first coming hi|ther. I love to be plain with you, and to tell you at first as you shall find at the last.

West.

Indeed, Mr. Bradford, I love you better for your plainness: and do not think otherwise of me, but that you shall find me plain in all my talk with you.

HERE Weston began to ask Mr. Bradford of his imprisonment and condemnation; and Mr. Brad|ford told him altogether how he had been handled. Whereat Weston seemed to wonder: yea, in plain words he said, that Mr. Bradford had been handled otherwise than he had given cause; and so shewed him, that my lord of Bath reported that he had de|served a benefit at the queen's hand, and at all the council's.

IN this kind of talk they spent almost an hour, and Mr. Bradford, being weary, rose up, and Wes|ton called the keeper, and before him he bade Brad|ford be of good comfort, and told him he was in no danger of death.

SIR, says the k••••per, but it is in every man's mouth that he shall die to-morrow.

WHEREAT Weston seemed half amazed and 〈◊〉〈◊〉, he would go say even-song before the queen, ••nd speak to her in his behalf. But it is to be thought the queen had almost supped at that time; ••or it was past six o'clock.

BEFORE the keeper, Mr. Bradford told Weston, again, that still he was one man, and even as he was at the first; and till he should see matter to teach his conscience the contrary, he said he must needs so continue.

THE keeper desired Mr. Bradford to hearken to Mr. Doctor's counsel, and prayed Mr. Doctor to be good unto him: and so after they had drank to|gether, Dr. Weston with most gentle words to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his leave for three days.

NOW when he was gone, the keeper told Mr. Bradford, that Mr. Doctor spake openly, that he saw no cause why they should burn him. Which sentence, for the ambiguity of the meaning, made him somewhat sorry, lest he had gathered any con|formity to them in their doctrine, which God know|eth, said Bradford, I never yet did. God our Fa|ther

bless us, as his children, and keep us from all evil for ever. Amen.

UPON the 5th of April, Dr. Weston came to the Compter about two o'clock in the afternoon, who excused himself for being so long absent; partly by sickness; partly for that Dr. Pendleton told him that he would come unto him; and partly for that, said he, I withstood certain monks which would have come again into Westminster: telling him moreover that the pope was dead, and also declared unto him, that he had spoken unto the queen in his behalf, and that death was not near to him.

LAST of all he excused himself for not answering his arguments against transubstantiation; because my coming to-day, said he, was more by fortune than of purpose.

Brad.

I would gladly, Mr, Doctor, if it please you see your answers to my arguments.

West.

Why, you have remembered something that I spake to you, when I was last with you.

Brad.

No, sir, I never called them in manner to mind, since that time, as well because I hoped you would have written them, as also for that they seemed not to be so material.

West.

In good faith I cannot see any other or better way for you, than to submit yourself to the judgment of the church.

Brad.

Indeed, so I will, sir, if so be by the church you understand Christ's church.

West.

Lo, you take upon you to judge the church.

Brad.

No, sir, that I do not; in taking upon me to discern, I do not judge the church.

West.

Yes, that you do; and make it invisible.

Brad.

I do neither.

West.

Why, who can see your church?

Brad.

Those, sir, that have spiritual eyes, where|with they might have discerned Christ's visible con|versation here upon earth.

West.

Nay, Christ's church hath three tokens, that all men may well look upon: namely, unity, antiquity, and consent.

Brad.

These three may be as well in evil as in good, as well in sin, as in virtue, as well in the de|vil's church, as in God's church. As for example, idolatry amongst the Israelites had all these three. Chrysostom says plainly, as you well know, that the church is well known only by the scriptures.

West.

You make your church invisible, when you will have it known only by the scriptures.

Brad.

No, sir, the scriptures do plainly set forth to us the church, that all men may well enough know her thereby, if they please to look.

West.

The church is like a tower or town, that all men may see.

Brad.

True, sir, all men that are not blind. Visible enough is the church, but men's blindness is great. Impute not therefore to the church, that which is to be imputed to men's blindness.

West.

Where was your church forty years ago? Or where is it now, except in a corner of Germany?

Brad.

Forsooth, sir, the church of God is dis|persed, and not tied to this or that place, but to the word of God; so that where it is, there is God's church, if it be truly taught.

West.

Lo, is not this to make the church invisi|ble? Point me out a realm a hundred years past which maintained your doctrine.

Brad.

Sir, if you would weigh or well mark the state of the church before Christ's coming, with it now, (as St. Peter and Paul willeth us) I think you would not look for such shews of the church to be made, as to point it out by realm••. You know

that in Elijah's time, both in Israel and elsewhere, God's church was not pointable; and therefore he cried out that he was left alone.

West.

No, truly, did not God say that there were 7000 which but not bowed their knees to Baal? Here was a church of 7000; shew 7000 a hundred years ago of your rligion.

Brad.

Sir, these 7000 were not known to men: for then Elijah would not have said, that he had been left alone. And that is plain enough by the text, namely, that God saith, "I have reserved to me seven thousand." Mark that it saith, God hath reserved to himself, to his own knowledge; as I doubt not but a hundred years ago God had his seven thousand in his proper places, though men knew not thereof.

West.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 Mr. Bradford, I will not make your case worst than for transubstantiation: although I know that we agree not in other matters. And I pray you make it no worse yourself. If I can do you good, I will: hurt you I will not. I am no prince, and therefore I cannot promise you life, except you submit yourself to the definition of the church.

Brad.

Sir, If you will define your church, and bring no false church into that definition, you shall soon see that I will be at a point with you.

West.

In good faith, Mr. Bradford, I see no good will be done, and therefore I wish you as much good as I can; and perhaps I may come or send to you again: and so he departed and went for Mr. Weal.

AFTER his departure, the keeper, Mr. Claydon, and Stephen Bech came to Mr. Bradford, and spake to him in such a manner as if they had been his ut|ter enemies, notwithstanding the friendship they hitherto pretended. If God be with us, it matters not who is against us.

DIVERS came to Mr. Bradford in prison, some to dispute, some to confer, some to give counsel, some to take comfort, and be confirmed in their faith, and others came to visit him. There was a certain gen|tlewoman's servant, which gentlewoman had been cruelly afflicted, and miserably handled by her fa|ther and mother, and all her kindred in her father's house, for not coming to mass; and she would have been put to death, had not the providence of God delivered her from her father's house, although at the loss of all she had.

THIS gentlewoman's servant therefore coming to Mr. Bradford, and taking him by the hand, said, God be thanked for you. How do you do?

MR. Bradford answered, Well, I thank God▪ For as men in sailing, which be near to the shore or haven where they would be, would be nearer; even so the nearer I am to God, the nearer I would be.

Servant.

Sir, I have never seen you so strong and healthful in body, as methinks you be now, God be thanked for it.

WHY, said Bradford, I have given over all care and study, and I only covet to be talking with him, whom I have always studied to serve.

Serv.

Well, God hath done much for you since the time I first knew you, and hath wrought won|derfully in you to his glory.

Brad.

Truth it is, for he hath dealt favourably with me, in that he hath punished me according to my sins, but hath suffered me to live, that I might seek repentance.

Serv.

Truly, we hear say, there is a rod made so grievous, out of which I think no man shall pluck his head.

Brad.

Well, let all that be of Christ's flock, arm themselves to suffer: for I think verily, God will not have one of his to escape untouched, if he love him, let them seek what means or ways they can.

Serv.

Well, sir, there is a discourse of a friar that preached before the king, who told him, that he should be guilty of the innocent blood that hath been shed of late.

INDEED, said Bradford, I had a book within

these two days of his writing, and therein he saith, that it is not meet nor convenient that heretics should live: and therefore I do marvel how that talk should rise: for I have heard of it also, and I have also talked with this friar (he is named Al|phonsus) and with divers others, and I praise God they have confirmed me: for they have nothing to say but that which is most vain.

Serv.

Sir, Mr. Cardmaker commendeth himself unto you.

Brad.

How doth he, how doth he?

Serv.

Well, God be thanked.

Brad.

I am very glad thereof: for indeed my lord chancellor did cast him in my teeth: but as David saith, God hath disappointed him.

Serv.

Forsooth, God's name be praised, he is very strong.

Brad.

And I trust so are we. What else? our quarrel is most just: therefore let us not be afraid.

Serv.

My mistress commendeth herself unto you.

Brad.

How doth she?

Serv.

Well, God be praised, but she hath been sorer afflicted by her own father and mother, than ever you were with your imprisonment; and yet God hath preserved her, I trust to his glory.

Brad.

I pray you, tell her, I read this day a godly history, written by Basilius Magnus, of a virtuous woman who was a widow, and was named Juleddo. She had great lands and many children, and nigh her dwelt a cormorant, who for her virtu|ous and pious living, had great indignation against her, and of very malice he took away her lands, so that she was constrained to go to law with him: and in conclusion, the matter came to the trial before the judge, who demanded of this tyrant why he wrongfully with held these lands from this woman? He made answer and said, he might so do, for (said he) this woman is disobedient to the king's pro|ceedings: for she will in no wise worship his gods, nor offer sacrifice unto them. Then the judge hearing that, said unto her, Woman, if this be true, thou art not only like to lose thy land, but also thy life, unless that thou worship our gods, and do sa|crifice unto them. This good woman hearing that, steps forth to the judge, and said, Is there no re|medy but either to worship your false gods, or else to lose my lands and life? Then farewel suit, fare|wel lands, farewel children, farewel friends, yea, and farewel life too: and in respect of the true ho|nour of the everliving God, farewel all. And with that saying the judge committed her to prison, and afterwards the suffered most cruel death: and being brought to the place of execution, she exhorted all women to be strong and constant. For, said she, you were redeemed with as dear a price as men. For although you were made of the rib of the man, yet are you all of his flesh: so that also in the case and trial of your faith towards God, you ought to be as strong. And thus died she constantly, not fearing death. I pray you, tell your mistress of this story.

Serv.

That I shall, sir, by God's grace: for she told me that she was with you and Mr. Saunders, and received your kind counsel.

Brad.

We never gave her other counsel but the truth, and in witness thereof, we have and will seal it with our blood. For I thought this night I had been sent for, because at eleven o'clock there was such a rapping at the door.

THEN answered a maid, and said, Why then, I perceive you were afraid.

Brad.

You shall hear how fearful I was. For I considered that I had not slept, and I thought to take a nap before I went: and after I was asleep, these men came into the next chamber, and sang, as it was told me, and yet for all my fearfulness, I heard them not: therefore I could not be much a|fraid, if I slept so fast.

Serv.

Do you lack any thing towards your ne|nessity?

Brad.

Nothing but your prayers, and I trust I have them, and you mine.

Serv.

I saw a priest come to you to-day in the morning.

Brad.

Yea, he brought me a letter from a friar, and I am writing an answer.

Serv.

Then we hinder you, therefore the living God be with you.

Brad.

And with you also, and bless you.

Serv.

Amen, amen; and gave him thanks and departed.

MR. BRADFORD continued still in prison, until the month of July, in such labours and sufferings as he always before had sustained in prison. But when the time of his determined death was come, he was suddenly conveyed out of the Compter where he was prisoner, in the night season to Newgate, as is declared before, and from thence he was carried the next morning to Smithfield, where he constantly abiding in the same truth of God, which before he had confessed, earnestly exhorting the people to re|pent, and to return to Christ, and sweetly comfort|ing the pious young man of nineteen or twenty years of age, who suffered with him, chearfully ended his painful life to live with Christ.

The EXAMINATION of Mr. JOHN LEAF.

WITH Mr. Bradford was burnt John Leaf, apprentice to Humphry Gaudy, tallow chandler, of the parish of Christ-church, in London, born at Kirkly Moreside, in the county of York; who upon the Friday before Palm-Sunday was com|mitted to the Compter in Bread-street, by an alder|man of the ward where the said John Leaf dwelt. Afterwards he coming to examination before bishop Bonner, gave a firm and christian testimony of his doctrine and profession, answering to such articles as were objected to him by the said bishop.

FIRST, As touching his belief and faith in the said sacrament of the altar, he answered, that after the words of consecration spoke by the priest over the bread and wine, there was not the very true and natural body and blood of Christ in substance; and further did hold and believe, that the said sacrament of the altar, as it is now called, used, an believed in this realm of England, is idolatrous and abomina|ble; and also said further, that he believed, that after the words of consecration spoke by the priest over the material bread and wine, there is not the self-same substance of Christ's body and blood there contained; but bread and wine, as it was before. And further said, that he believed, that when the priest delivereth the ••aid material bread and wine to the communicants, he delivereth only material bread and wine; and the communicants do receive the same in remembrance of Christ's death and passion, and spiritually in faith they receive Christ's body and blood, but not under the forms of bread and wine: and also affirmed, that he believed confession not necessary to be made unto a priest; neither that the priest hath any authority given him by the scripture to absolve and remit any sin.

UPON these his answers, and testimony of his faith, he was at that time dismissed, with orders to appear again on the next Monday, June 10, in the said place, there and then to hear the sentence of his condemnation. At which time the aforesaid bishop propounded the said articles to him as before, en|deavouring by all manner of ways to bring him to renounce his religion; but notwithstanding all his persuasions, threats, and promises, found him the same man still, so planted upon the sure rock of truth, that no words or deeds of men could re|move him:

THEN the bishop, after many words passing be|tween them, at last asked him, if he had been Mr. Rogers's scholar? To whom the aforesaid John Leaf answered again, granting it so to be; and that he believed in the doctrine of the said Rogers, and in the doctrine of bishop Hooper, Cardmaker, and others of their opinion, who were lately burned for the testimony of Christ, and that he would die in that doctrine that they died for. The bishop still continued persuading him to return to the unity of the church, but he answered again in these words: My lord, (said he) you call mine opinion heresy; but it is the true light of the word of God. And again repeating the same, he professed that he would never forsake his stayed and well grounded opinion, while the breath should be in his body. Whereupon

the bishop being too weak, either to refute his sen|tence, or to remove his constancy, proceeded conse|quently to read the sentence of condemnation; whereby this pious and constant young man being committed to the secular power of the sheriffs there present, was then adjudged, and not long after suf|fered, the same day with Mr. Bradford, confirming with his death that which he had spoken and pro|fessed in his life.

IT is reported of the said John Leaf, by one that was in the Compter at the same time, and saw the thing, that after his examinations before the bishop, when two bills were sent unto him in the Compter in Bread-street, the one containing a recantation, the other his confessions, to know to which of them he would put his hand; first hearing the bill of recan|tation read unto him, (because he could not read nor write himself) that he refused. And when the bill of his confessions was read unto him, instead of a pen he took a pin, and so pricking his hand, sprinkled the blood upon the said bill, desiring the reader thereof to shew the bishop, that he had sealed the same bill with his blood already.

The Behaviour of Mr. BRADFORD and JOHN LEAF at their MARTYRDOM.

FIRST, when they came to the stake in Smith|field to be burned, Mr. Bradford lying pro|strate on one side the stake, and the young man John Leaf on the other side, they lay flat on their faces, praying to themselves the space of a minute. Then one of the sheriffs said to Mr. Bradford, Arise, and make an end; for the press of the people is great.

AT that word they stood up, and Mr. Bradford took a faggot in his hand and kissed it, and likewise the stake. And when he had so done, he desired of the sheriffs, that his servant might have his raiment. For (said he) I have nothing else to give him: and besides that, he is a poor man. And the sheriff said he should have it. Then Mr. Bradford imme|diately took off his raiment, and went to the stake: and holding up his hands, and casting his eyes towards heaven, he said thus, "O England, Eng|land, repent of thy sins; beware of idolatry: be+ware of Antichrist; take heed they do not deceive you." And as he was speaking these words, the sheriff ordered his hands to be tied if he would not be quiet. O matter Sheriff, said he, I am quiet; God forgive you this, Master Sheriff. And one of the officers who was to make the fire, hearing Mr. Bradford so speaking to the sheriff, said, If you have no better learning than this, you are but a fool, and you had best hold your peace. To which Mr. Bradford gave no answer; but asked all the world forgiveness, and forgave all the world, and desired the people to pray for him: then he turned his head to the young man that suffered with him, and said, Be of good comfort, brother; for we shall have a merry supper with the Lord this night: and then embracing the reeds, he said thus, "Strait is the gate and narrow is the way that leadeth to eter|nal salvation, and few there be that find it."

AND thus they both ended this mortal life, like two lambs, without any alteration of their counte|nances, being void of all fear, hoping to obtain the prize that they had long run for; to which I beseech Almighty God happily to conduct us, through the merits of Jesus Christ our Lord and Saviour, Amen.

MENTION was made a little above how churlish|ly Mr. Woodrofe the sheriff answered Mr. Brad|ford at the stake, not suffering him to speak, but commanding his hands to be tied, &c. The like extremity, or worse, he used also before to Mr. Rogers.

THE said Woodrofe was sheriff together with Sir William Chester, in the year 1555, who was a much better man, both in temper and religion; he behaved with great mildness towards those pious martyrs, who suffered for their conscience, and was very sorry to see them at any time misused. But Woodrofe was so churlish and ill-natured that he was wont to abuse the friends of those who were going to die; he would not so much as let them shake hands with their departing friends; a privi|lege never denied to malefactors, and the vilest cri|minals under protestant government.

BUT now, by the way, let us take notice of the severe punishment which God inflicted on this cruel persecutor Mr. Woodrofe: it is said, that within half a year after the burning of this blessed martyr,

the said sheriff was so struck on the right side with a palsy, that for the space of eight years after (till his dying day) he was not able to turn himself in his bed, but needed two men to move him; and withal such an insatiable devouring came upon him, that was monstrous to behold. And thus he con|tinued for eight years together.

On the DEATH of Mr. JOHN BRADFORD.

LET no disciple 'bove his master be, God's servants are not from afflictions free. God, whom he loves, chastises every son; Strait is the way to the celestial throne. These words whilst, Bradford, thou didst ruminate, No human threats, no fears, no dismal state, Could shock thy steady soul; no fiery dart Of Satan's malice wound thy constant heart: But thou didst freely (arm'd with grace divine). Thy body to the flaming pile resign.

MR. BRADFORD, during the time of his imprison|ment, wrote several comfortable treatises, and many pious letters, of which some were directed to the city of London, Cambridge, Walden, to Lanca|shire and Cheshire, and divers to his other private friends. Which letters, to the intent it may appear how well this good man occupied his time in prison, what special zeal he bare to the state of Christ's church, what care he had to perform his office, how earnestly he admonished all men, how tenderly he comforted the heavy-hearted, how faithfully he con|firmed them whom he had taught, we thought good here to introduce: all the letters that he wrote c••nnot be hear exhibited, being so many in number that they alone would make a large volume; how|ever, for the satisfaction of the pious reader, we will insert those that are judged the best and most excellent among them.

IT has been mentioned before how the earl of Derby complained in the parliament house, of cer|tain letters written by John Bradford out of prison, to Lancashire; and he was likewise charged by the bishop of Winchester, and Mr. Allen, with some other letters. Now to the intent that the reader may more perfectly understand what sort of letters these were, which he wrote to his mother, brethren, and sisters, out of the Tower, before his condem|nation, we will here produce the copy and contents as followeth

LETTER I. From Mr. BRADFORD to his Mother, a pious Matron, dwelling in Manchester, and to his Brethren and Sisters, and other Friends there.

OUR dear and sweet Saviour Jesus Christ, whose pri|soner at this present (praised be his name) I am, preserve and keep you, my good mother, with my bro|thers and sisters, my fathers John Traves, Thomas Sorrocold, Laurence and James Bradshaw, with their wives and families, &c. now and forever, Amen.

I am now in prison, secure enough from starting, to confirm what I have preached unto you, as I am ready (I thank God) to seal the same with my life and blood, if God shall vouchsafe to make me worthy of that honour. For good mother and brethren, it is a most special benefit from God, to suffer for his name's sake and gospel, as now I do: I heartily thank God for it, and am sure that with him I shall be partaker of his glory, as St. Paul saith, "If we suffer with him, we shall reign with him." Therefore be not faint-hearted, but rather rejoice, at least for my sake, who am now in the right and highway to heaven: for by many afflictions we must enter into the kingdom of heaven. Now will God make known his children. When the wind doth not blow, a man cannot know the wheat from the chaff: but when the blast cometh, then the chaff ••lieth away, but the wheat remaineth, and is so far from being hurt, that by the wind it is more cleansed from the chaff, and known to be wheat. Gold, when it is cast in the fire, is the more precious: so are God's children by the cross of affliction. God always beginneth his judgment at his house. Christ and the apostles were in the most misery i•• the land of Jewry, but yet the whole land smarted for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 after: so now the children of God are first chastised in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 world, that they should not be damned with the world; for surely the great plagues of God hang over this realm.

YE all know that there never was more knowledge of God, and less godly living, and true serving of God. It was counted a foolish thing to serve God truly; and ear|nest prayer was not minded. Preaching was but a pa••••ion. The communion was counted too common Fasting to subdue the flesh was quite out of use. Alms was almost nothing. Malice, covetousness, and uncleanness, was com|mon every-where, with swearing, drunkenness, and idle|ness. God therefore now is come, and you have heard 〈◊〉〈◊〉 preach, and because he will not damn us with the world, he beginneth to punish us: as me for carnal living. For as for my doctrine, I am very certain that it is and was God's truth, and by his grace I resolve to give my life for it▪ but beca••se I loved not the gospel as sincerely as I ought, therefore doth he thus punish me; nay, in punish|ing, ••e rather blesseth me. Indeed I thank him more for this prison, than for any parlour, yea, than for any pleasure

that ever I had; for in it I always find God my sweetest and greatest good. The flesh is now punished to admonish us heartily to live as we profess; and to certify the wicked of their just damnation, if they repent not.

PERHAPS you are weakened in that which I have preach|ed, because God doth not defend it, as you think▪ but suffereth the popish doctrine to come again and prevail: but you must know, good mother, that God by this doth prove and try his children, whether they will unfeignedly and simply stand stedfast to him and his word. He did so with the Israelites, bringing them into a desart, after their coming out of Egypt, where (I mean in the wilderness) was want of all things, in comparison of that which they had in Egypt. Christ, when he came into this world, brought no worldly wealth, nor quietness with him, but rather war: "The world (saith he) shall rejoice, but ye shall mourn, and weep, but your weeping shall be turned into joy: and therefore happy are they that mourn and weep; for they shall be comforted." They are marked then with God's mark in their foreheads, and not with the beast's mark, I mean pope's shaven crown, who now with his shavelings rejoice: but woe unto them, for they shall be cast down, they shall weep and mourn. The rich glutton had here his joy, and Lazarus sorrow, but after|wards the case was changed. The end of carnal joy is sorrow. Now let the whoremonger joy with the drunk|ard, swearer, covetous, malicious, and blind buzzard sir John: for the mass will not bite them, nor make them blush as preaching doth. Now they may do what they will, come devils to church, and go devils home again, for no man must speak against it. They are glad of all this; now they have their hearts desire, as the Sodomites had when Lot was gone; but what followed? forsooth, when they cried peace, all shall be well, then came God's vengeance, fire and brimstone from heaven, and burnt up every mother's child; even so (dear mother) will it be to our papists.

WHEREFORE fear God; stick to his word, though all the world 〈◊〉〈◊〉 from it. Die you must once, and when and how, you cannot tell. Die therefore with Christ, suffer for serving him truly, according to his word: for we may be sure, that of all deaths it ought to be our greatest desire to die for the cause of God. This is the safest way of dying; we need not doubt but that we shall go to heaven, if we die for his name's take. And that you shall so die, the word of God will warrant you, if you stick to that which God by me hath taught you. You shall see that I speak as I think; for by God's grace I will drink before you of this cup, if it be put to me.

I doubt not but God will give me grace and strength to undergo what I purpose▪ pray for me, that I may be im|moveable in the fiery 〈◊〉〈◊〉. I am ••••ady whenever God shall be pleased to call me. Death nor life, prison nor pleasure, I trust in God, shall be able to separate me from my Lord God and his gospel. In peace, when no persecu|tion was, then were you content and glad to hear me, then you believed me, and will you not do so now, seeing I speak nothing but that which by God's grace I will verify with my blood? Good mother, I write to you be|fore God, as before him I have preached.

I have taught the pure word of God: it is the same infallible truth whereof he said, "Heaven and earth shall pass, but my word shall not pass. The mass, and such baggage as the false worshippers of God, and the enemies of Christ's cross (the papists) have brought in again, to poison the church of God, highly displeaseth him, and is abominable in his sight. Happy may he be who for con+science sake will suffer the loss of life or goods, in con|tending against it. Come not near it. If God be God, follow him: if the mass be God, let who will see it, hear, or be present at it, go to the devil with it. What is there which God ordained? His supper was ordained to be re|ceived by us as a memorial of his, for the confirmation of our faith, that his body was broken for us, and his blood shed for the pardon of our sins; but in the mass there is no receiving, but the priest alone keepeth all to himself. Christ saith, Take, eat: No, saith the priest, Gape, peep. Here (in the mass) is a sacrificing, yea, crucifying Christ again as much as they can. Here is idolatry in worshipping the outward sign of bread and wine: here is all in Latin, you cannot tell what is said. In short, here is nothing as God ordained. Wherefore (my good mother) come not near it.

I presume some will say, that it will be worse for you, if y••u refuse to go to mass, and do as others do. But be as|sured, that God will assist and protect you, as you shall one day find: he hath promised to them his great blessing in this world, and in the world to come life everlasting.

YOU shall be counted an heretic: but they are the here|tics that so call you, whose praise is a scandal.

YOU are not able to reason against the priests, but God will, that they shall not be able to withstand you. I doubt not but father Traves, and others of my brothers and sisters will comfort and assist you by their counsel and pious exam|ples; but if they do not, I your son in God, by his grace, will so do, and go before you: pray that I may be constant: rejoice in my sufferings, for it is for your sakes, that there|by I may confirm the truth I have taught. Beware that this letter come not abroad, but only into father Traves's hands: for if it should be known that I have pen and ink in prison, it would be much worse for me. Therefore keep it to yourselves, and commend me to God's mercy through Jesus Christ, and pray that he would make me worthy to give my life for the sake of his church and gospel. From the Tower of London, October 26, 1553.

MY name I write not, you know the reason well enough: like the letter never the worse. Commend me to all our good brethren and sisters in the Lord. Howsoever you do, be obedient to the higher powers, that is, in no point either in hand or tongue rebel, but rather if they command that which with good conscience you cannot obey, lay your head on the block, and suffer whatsoever they shall do or say. By patience possess your souls.

AFTER the time that Mr. Bradford was con|demned, and sent to the Compter, his adversaries purposed (as ye heard before) to send him to Man|chester to be burned. Whereupon he writeth to the city of London, thinking to take his last farewel of them in this letter.

LETTER II. From Mr. BRADFORD, to the CITY of LONDON.

TO all that profess the gospel and true doctrine of our our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ in the city of London, John Bradford, a most unworthy servant of the Lord, now not only in prison, but also excommunicated and condemned to be burned for the same true doctrine, wishes mercy, grace, and peace, with increase of all godly knowledge and piety from God the Father of mercy, through the merits of our alone and all sufficient Redeem|er Jesus Christ, by the operation of the Holy Spirit, for ever. Amen.

MY dearly beloved brethren in our Saviour Christ, although the time I have to live is very little, (for I hourly look when I shall be had hence to be conveyed into Lanca|shire there to be burned, and to render my life by the providence of God, where I received it) and although there is great charge given to keep me from all things whereby I might signify any thing to the world of my estate: yet having, as I now have, pen and ink, through God's working, in spite of Satan and his soldiers, I thought good to write a short confession of my faith, and join there|to a little exhortation to you all to live according to your profession.

FIRST, For my saith, I do confess and pray all the whole congregation of Christ to bear witness with me of the same, that I believe constantly, through the gift and goodness of God, (for faith is God's only gift) all the twelve articles of the symbol and creed, commonly attri|buted to the collection of the apostles. This my faith I would particularly declare and expound to the confirmation and comfort of the simple! but alas! by starts and stealth I write in manner what I write, and therefore I shall desi••e you all to take this brevity in good part. And this faith I hold, not because of the creed itself, but because of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 word of God, which teacheth and confirmeth every artic••e accordingly. This word of God, written by the pro|phets and apostles, left and contained in the canonical books of the whole Bible, I do believe to contain plentifully all things necessary to salvation, so that nothing (as necessary to salvation) ought to be added thereto, and therefore the church of Christ, nor none of his congregation, ought to be burthened with any other doctrine, than that which hath its foundation and ground from thence. In testimony of this faith, I render and give my life, being condemned as well for not acknowledging the Antichrist of Rome to be Christ's vicar general, and supreme head of his catholic and universal church here or elsewhere upon earth; as for denying the horrible and idolatrous doctrine of transubstan|tiation, and Christ's real, corporal, and carnal presence in his supper, under the forms and accidents of bread and wine.

TO believe Christ our Saviour to be the head of his church, and kings in their realms to be the supreme powers, to whom every soul oweth obedience, and to believe that in the supper of Christ (which the sacrament of the altar, as the papists call it and use it, doth utterly overthrow) is a true and very presence of whole Christ, God and Man, to the faith of the receiver, but not to the stander by, and looker upon, as it is true and very presence of bread and wine to the very senses of man: to believe this, I say, will not serve, and therefore as an heretic I am condemned, and shall be burned; whereof I heartily ask God mercy that I do no more rejoice than I do, having so great cause, as to be an instrument wherein it may please my dear Lord God and Saviour to suffer.

FOR albeit my manifold sins, even since I came into prison, have deserved at the hands of God, not only this temporal, but also eternal fire in hell, much more than my former sinful life, which the Lord pardon for Christ's sake, as I know he of his mercy hath done, and will never lay mine iniquities to my charge to condemnation, so great is his goodness, (praised therefore be his holy name) although, I say, my late manifold and grievous sins have most justly deserved all the tyranny that man or devil can do unto me; and therefore I confess that the Lord is just, his judgments be true, and I have deserved them: yet the bishops and prelates, instead of persecuting them in me, do persecute Christ himself, his word, his truth, and his religion. And therefore I have great cause to rejoice that ever I was born, and hitherto preserved by the Lord; that by my death, which I deserve for my sins, it pleased him to glorify his name, to testify and confirm his truth, and to overcome his adversaries. O good God and merciful Father, for|give my unthankfulness, especially herein.

AND you, my dearly beloved, for the Lord Jesus Christ's sake, I humbly and heartily in his bowels do now, for my last farewel in this present life, beseech you, and every one of you, that you will consider this work of the Lord accordingly. By me be admonished to beware of hypocrisy and carnal security; profess not the gospel with

tongue and lips only; but in heart and in truth frame your lives accordingly: beware God's name be not evil spoken of, and the gospel less regarded by your conversation. God forgive me that I have not so heartily professed it as I should have done, but have sought myself, and too much consulted my own ease therein. The gospel is a new doctrine to the old man; it is new wine, and therefore cannot be put into old bottles, without greater harm than good to those bot|tles. If we will talk with the Lord, we must put off our shoes and carnal affections; if we will hear the voice of the Lord, we must wash our garments and be holy; if we will be Christ's disciples, we must deny ourselves, take up our cross and follow him; we cannot serve two masters. If we seek Christ's kingdom, we must seek the righteous|ness thereof. To this petition, Thy kingdom come, we must join, Thy will be done, done as it is in heaven. If we will not be doers of the word, but hearers only, we miserably deceive ourselves. If we hear the gospel, and love it not, we declare ourselves to be but fools, and build|ers upon the sand. Deceitfulness the Lord abhorreth; if we come to him, we must beware that we come not with a double heart; for then God will answer us according to our own folly; and we shall deceive ourselves and others.

TO faith see that we join a good conscience, lest we make a shipwreck. To the Lord we must come with fear and reverence. If we will be gospellers, we must be Christ's; if we be Christ's, we must crucify our flesh with the lusts and concupiscences thereof; if we will be under grace, sin must not bear rule in us. We may not come to the Lord, and draw nigh to him with our lips, and leave our hearts elsewhere, lest the Lord's wrath wax hot, and he take from us the good remaining. In no case can the kingdom of Christ approach to them that repent not. Therefore, my dearly beloved, let us repent and be hearti|ly sorry that we have so carnally, so hypocritically, so co|vetously, so vain-gloriously professed the gospel. For all these I confess myself to the glory of God, that he may cover mine offences in the day of judgment. Let the an|ger of God, most justly fallen upon us, be applied to eve|ry one of our deserts, that from the bottom of our hearts we may say, It is I, Lord, that have sinned against thee: It is my hypocrisy, my vain-glory, my covetousness, un|cleanness, carnality, security, idleness, unthankfulness, self-love, and such like, which have deserved the taking away our good king, of thy word and true religion, of thy good ministers by exile, imprisonment, and death; it is my wickedness that causeth success and increase of authority and peace to thine enemies. Oh be merciful, be merciful unto us. Turn to us again, O Lord of Hosts, and turn us unto thee; correct us, but not in thy fury, lest we be consumed in thine anger; chastise us not in thy wrathful displeasure; reprove us not, but in the midst of thine an|ger remember thy mercy. For if thou mark what is done amiss, who shall be able to abide it? But with thee is mer|cifulness, that thou mightest be worshipped. Oh then be merciful unto us, that we might truly worship thee. Help us for the glory of thy name: be merciful unto our sins; for they are great: O heal us, and help us for thine ho|nour. Let not the wicked people say, Where is their God, &c.

ON this sort, my right dearly beloved, let us heartily bewail our sins, repent us of our former evil life, heartily and earnestly purpose to amend our lives in all things, con|tinually watch in prayer, diligently and reverently attend, hear, and read the holy scriptures, labour after our voca|tion to amend our brethren. Let us reprove the works of darkness. Let us fly from all idolatry. Let us abhor the antichristian and Romish rotten service, detest the popish mass, renounce the Romish god, prepare ourselves to the cross, be obedient to all that are in authority, in all things that be not against God and his word; for then answer with the apostles, "It is more meet to obey God than man." Howbeit never for any thing resist, or rise against the ma|gistrates. Avenge not yourselves, but commit your cause to the Lord, to whom your vengeance belongeth, and he in his time will reward it. If you feel in yourselves an hope and trust in God, that he will never tempt you above that he will make you able to bear, be assured the Lord will be true to you, and you shall be able to bear all brunts. But if you want this hope, fly and get you hence, rather than by your tarrying, God's name should be dishonoured.

IN sum, cast your care on the Lord, knowing for most certain, that he is careful for you; with whom all the hairs of your head are numbered, so that not one of them shall perish without his good pleasure: much more then nothing shall happen to our bodies, which shall not be profitable, howsoever for a time it seem otherwise to our senses. De|pend on the providence of God, not only when you have means to help you, but also when you have no means, yea, when all means be against you. Give him this honour, which of all other things he chiefly requireth at your hands: namely, believe that you are his children through Christ, that he is your father and God through him, that he loveth you, pardoneth you all your offences, that he is with you in trouble, and will be with you for ever. When you fail, he will put under his hand, you shall not lie still: before you call upon him he heareth you, out of the evil he will finally deliver you, and bring you to his eternal joy. Doubt not herein, my dearly beloved, doubt not (I say) this God your Father will do for you, not in respect of yourselves, but in respect of Christ your captain, your pastor, your keeper, out of whose hands none shall be able to pluck you; in him be quiet, and often consider your dignity, namely, how that ye be God's children, the saints of God, citizens of heaven, temples of the Holy Ghost, the thrones of God, members of Christ, and lords over all.

THEREFORE be ashamed to think, speak, or do any thing that should be unseemly for God's children, God's saints, Christ's members, &c. Marvel not though the

devil and the world hate you, though ye be persecuted here, for the servant is not above his master. Covet not earthly riches, fear not the power of man, love not this world, nor the things of this world; but long for the Lord Jesus's coming, at which time your bodies sha••l be made like unto his glorious body; when he appeareth, you shall be like unto him; when your life shall be thus revealed, then shall ye appear with him in glory.

IN the mean time live in hope thereof. Let the life you lead be in the faith of the Son of God. "For the just do live by faith:" which faith flieth from all evil, and follow|eth the word of God as a lanthorn to her feet, and a light to her steps; her eyes are above where Christ is, she be|holdeth not the things present, but rather things to come; she glorieth in affliction; she knoweth that the afflictions of this life are not worthy to be compared to the glory which God will reveal to us and in us. Of this glory God grant us here a lively taste, then shall we run after the scent it sendeth forth. It will make us valiant men to take to us the kingdom of God; whither the Lord of mercy bring us in his good time through Christ our Lord, to whom with the Father and the Holy Ghost, three Persons and one God, be all honour and glory, world without end. Amen.

MY dearly beloved, I would gladly have given here my body to have been burned for the confirmation of the true doctrine I have taught here unto you. But that my coun|try must have. Therefore I pray you take in good part this signification of my good will towards all of you. Impute the want herein to time and trouble. Pardon me mine offensive and negligent behaviour when I was amongst you. With me repent, and labour to amend. Continue in the truth which I have truly taught unto you, by preach|ing in all places where I have come; God's name therefore be praised. Confess Christ when you be called, whatso|ever cometh thereof, and the God of peace be with us all, Amen. February 11, 1555.

Your brother in bonds for the Lord's sake, JOHN BRADFORD.

LETTER III. From Mr. BRADFORD, to the University of CAM|BRIDGE.

TO all that love the Lord Jesus and his true doctrine, being in the university and town of Cambridge, John Bradford, a most unworthy servant of the Lord, now not only imprisoned, but also condemned for the same true doctrine, wisheth grace, peace, and mercy, with increase of all g••dliness from God the Father of all mercy, through the bloody passion of our Saviour Jesus Christ, by the lively working of the Holy Spirit for ever, Amen.

ALTHOUGH I look hourly when I should be had to the stake, (my right dearly beloved in the Lord) and although the charge over me is great and strict, yet having by the providence of God secretly pen and ink, I could not but signify unto you my solicitude which I have for all of you in the Lord, though not as I would, yet as I may. You have often and openly heard the truth (especially in this matter wherein I am condemned) disputed and preached, that it is needless to do any more but only to put you in re|membrance of the same: but hitherto you have not heard it confirmed, and as it were sealed up, as now you do and shall hear by me, that is, by my death and burning. For albeit I have deserved (though my uncleanness, hypocrisy, avarice, vain-glory, idleness, unthankfulness, and carnal••|ty, whereof I accuse myself, to my confusion before the world, that before God through Christ I might, as my as|sured hope is I shall, find mercy) eternal death and hell-fire, much more than this affliction and fire prepared for me: yet my dearly beloved, it is not these, or any of these things, for which the prelates do persecute me, but God's verity and truth; yea, even Christ himself is the only cause for which I am now condemned, and shall be burned as an heretic, because I will not grant the Antichrist 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Rome to be Christ's vicar general and supreme head of his church here, and every-where upon earth, by God's ordi|nance, and because I will not grant such corporal, real, and carnal presence of Christ's body and blood in the sacrament, as doth transubstantiate the substance of bread and wine, and is received by the wicked, yea by dogs and mice. Al|so I am excommunicated and accounted as a dead member of Christ's church, as a rotten branch, and therefore shall be cast into the fire.

THEREFORE you ought heartily to rejoice with me, and to give thanks for me, that God the eternal Father hath vouchsafed our mother to bring up any child in whom it would please him to magnify his holy name as he doth, and I hope for his mercy and truth's sake, will do in me and by me. Oh, what such benefit upon earth can it be, as that I who deserved death by reason of my sins, should be delivered to a demonstration, a testification, and con|firmation of God's verity and truth? Thou my mother the university hast not only had the truth of God's word plain|ly manifested unto thee by reading, disputing, and preach|ing publicly and privately; but now to make thee altoge|ther excuseless, and as it were, almost to sin against the Holy Ghost, if thou put to thy helping hand with the Romish rout to suppress the verity, thou hast my life and blood as a seal to confirm thee, and bear witness against thee, if thou wilt be confirmed, or else to command thee, and bear witness against thee, if thou wilt take part with the prelates and clergy, which now ••••ll 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the measure of their fathers which slew the prophets and the apostles, that

all the righteous blood from Abel to Bradford, shed upon earth, may be required at their hands.

OF this therefore I thought good before my death, as time and liberty would suffer me, (for the love and duty I bear unto thee) to admonish thee good mother, and my sister the town, that you would call to mind from whence you are fallen, and study to do the first works. You know (if you will) these matters of the Romish supremacy, and the antichristian transubstantiation, whereby Christ's sup|per is overthrown, his priesthood evacuated, his sacrifice frustrated, the ministry of his word unplaced, repentance repelled, faith fainted, piety extinguished, the mass main|tained, idolatry supported, and all impiety cherished: you know I say (if you will) that these opinions are not only besides God's word, but even directly against it, and there|fore to take part with them, is to take part against God, against whom you cannot prevail.

THEREFORE for the tender mercy of Christ, in his bowels and blood I beseech you, to take Christ's eye-salve to anoint your eyes, that you may see what you do, and have done, in admitting (as I hear you have admitted, yea, alas! authorized, and by consent confirmed) the Romish rotten rags, which once you utterly expelled. O be not "The dog returned to his own vomit; the sow that was washed returned to her wallowing in the mire," 2 Pet. ii. Beware lest satan enter in with seven other spirits, and then the last shall be worse than the first. It had been better ye had never known the truth, than after knowledge to run from it. Ah, woe to this world and the things therein, which hath now so wrought with you. Oh that ever the dirt of the devil should daub up the eye of the realm. For thou, O mother, art the eye of the realm. If thou be light and shine, all the body shall fare the better; but if thou the light be darkness, alas how great will the darkness be? What is man whose breath is in his nostrils, that thou should thus be afraid of him?

OH what is honour and life here? Bubbles. What is glory in this world, but shame? Why art thou afraid to carry Christ's cross? Wilt thou come into this ••ingdom, and not drink of his cup? Dost thou not know Rome to be Babylon? Dost thou not know, that as the old Baby|lon had the children of Judah in captivity, so hath this Rome the true Judah, that is▪ the confessors of Christ? Dost thou not know, that as destruction happened unto it, so shall it do unto this? And thinkest thou that God will not deliver his people now when the time is come, as he did then? H••th not God commanded his people to come out from her? And wilt thou give example to the whole realm to run unto her? Hast thou forgotten the woe that Christ threateneth to offence-givers? Wilt thou not re|member, that it were better that a mill-stone were hanged about thy neck and thou thrown into the sea, than that thou shouldst offend the little ones▪

AND alas, how hast thou offended? Yea, and how dost thou still offend? Wilt thou consider things according to the outward shew? Was not the synagogue more seemly and like to be the true church, than the simple flock of Christ's disciples? Hath not the whore of Babylon more costly array, and rich apparel, externally to set forth her|self, than the homely house-wife of Christ? Where is the beauty of the king's daughter, the church of Christ? With|out or within? Doth not David say, within? O remem|ber that as they are happy which are not offended at Christ, so are they happy which are not offended at his poor church. Can the pope and his prelates mean honestly, which make so much of the wife, and so little of the husband? The church they magnify, but Christ they contemn. If this church were an honest woman, (that is, Christ's wife) except they would make much of her husband, Christ and his word, she would not be made much of by them.

WHEN Christ and his apostles were upon earth, who was most like to be the true church, they or the prelates, bishops, and synagogue? If we ought to have followed custom, unity, antiquity, or the greater part, should not Christ and his company have been cast out of doors? Therefore Christ saith, Search the scriptures. Good mo|ther, shall the servant be above his master? Shall we look for better entertainment at the hands of the world, than Christ and his dear disciples found? In Noah's time who was taken for the church, poor Noah and his family, or all the others that were destroyed by the flood? Who was taken for God's church in Sodom, righteous Lot, or the others? And doth not Christ say, "As it was then, so shall it go now towards the coming of the Son of Man?" What meaneth Christ when he saith, Iniquity shall have the upper hand? Doth not he likewise say, that charity shall wax cold? And we plainly see the greatest scarcity of it in those, who would now be taken for Christ's true ca|tholic church. All that fear God in this realm can tell more of this than I can write

THEREFORE, dear mother, receive some admonition of one of thy poor children, now going to be burnt to ashes for the testimony of Jesus. Come again to God's truth; come out of Babylon; confess Christ and his true doctrine; repent of what is past; make amends by declaring thy repentance by the fruits. Remember the reading and preaching of God's prophet the true preacher, Martin Bu|cer. Call to mind the threatenings of God against impeni|tent sinners. Let the exile of Leaver, Pilkington, Grin|dal, Haddon, Horn, Scory, Ponet, &c. awake and strengthen thee. Let the imprisonment of thy dear sons, Cranme••, Ridley, and Latimer, move thee. Consider the martyr|dom of thy intimate friends, Rogers, Saunders, and Taylor. And now cast not away the poor admonition of me, that am now going to be burnt, and to receive the like crown of glory with my fellows. Take to heart God's calling by us.

Be not as Pharaoh was, that it may not happen unto thee as it did unto him. What is that? Hardness of heart. And what then? Destruction eternally both of body and soul. Ah therefore, good mother, awake, awake, repent, repent, and make haste to turn to the Lord. For other|wise it shall be more easy for Sodom ane Gomorrah in the day of judgment, than for thee. O harden not your hearts; O stop not your ears to-day in hearing God's voice, though it be by a most unworthy messenger. O fear the Lord, for his anger is begun to kindle. Even now the ax is laid to the root of the tree.

YOU know I prophesied truly before the sweating sick|ness came what would come, if you repented not your carnal preaching. And now I tell you before I depart hence, that the ears of men will tingle to hear the ven|geance of God that will fall upon you all, both town and university, if you repent not, if you leave not your idolatry, if you turn not speedily to the Lord, if you will be ashamed of Christ's truth which you know.

O Perne repent, O Thomson repent, O doctors, ba|chelors and masters repent; O mayor, aldermen, and town-dwellers repent, repent, repent, that you may escape the approaching vengeance of the Lord. Rent your hearts and make haste to come unto the Lord. Let us all say, We have sinned, we have done wickedly, we have not hearkened to thy voice, O Lord. Deal not with us after our deserts, but be merciful unto our iniquities, for they are great. O pardon our offences. In thine anger re|member thy mercy. Turn us unto thee, O Lord God of hosts, for the glory of thy name's sake. Spare us and be merciful unto us. Let not the wicked people say, Where is now their God? O for thine own sake, for thy name's sake, deal mercifully with us. Turn thyself unto us, and us unto thee, and we shall praise thy name for ever.

IF in this sort, my dearly beloved, in heart and mouth we come unto our Father, and prostrate ourselves before the throne of his grace, then surely we shall find mercy. Then shall the Lord look merrily upon us, for his mercy's sake in Christ: then shall we hear him speak peace unto his people. For he is gracious and merciful, of great pity and compassion: he cannnot be chiding for ever: his anger cannot last long to the penitent. Though we weep in the morning, yet at night we shall have our sorrow to cease. For he is merciful, and hath no pleasure in the death of a sinner: he would rather have him turn from his wickedness and live.

OH turn ye now and repent, yet once again I humbly beseech you, and then the kingdom of heaven shall draw nigh. The eye hath not seen, the ear hath not heard, nor is the heart of man able to conceive the joys prepared for us, if we repent, amend our lives, and heartily turn to the Lord. But if ye repent not, but be as ye were, and go forwards with the wicked, following the fashion of the world, the Lord will lead you on with wicked doers, you shall perish in your wickedness, your blood will be upon your own heads, your parts shall be with hypocrites, where shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth; you shall be cast from the face of the Lord for ever and ever: eternal shame, sorrow, woe, and misery, shall be both in body and soul to you world without end. Oh therefore, right dear to me in the Lord, turn you, turn you, repent you, repent you, amend, amend your lives, depart from evil, do good, fol|low peace, and pursue it. Come out from Babylon, cast off the works of darkness, put on Christ, confess his truth, be not ashamed of his gospel, prepare yourselves for the cross, drink of God's cup before it come to the dregs, and then shall I with you and for you, rejoice in the day of judgment, which is at hand, and therefore prepare your|selves thereto, I heartily beseech you. And thus I take my farewel for ever, with you in this present life, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 own dear hearts in the Lord. The Lord of mercy be with us all, and give us a joyful and sure meeting in his king|dom, Amen, Amen.

Out of prison, February 11, 1555.

Your own in the Lord for ever, JOHN BRADFORD.

LETTER IV. From Mr. BRADFORD, to LANCASHIRE, and CHE|SHIRE.

TO all those who profess the name and true religion of our Saviour Christ in Lancashire and Cheshire, and especially abiding in Manchester and thereabouts, John Bradford, a most unworthy servant of the Lord▪ now not only in bonds, but also condemned for the same true religion, wisheth mercy and grace, peace and increase of all godliness from God the Father of all pity, through the deserts of our Lord Jesus Christ, by the working of the most mighty and lively Spirit the Comforter for ever, Amen.

I heard it credibly reported, my dearly beloved in the Lord, that my heavenly Father hath thought it good to provide, that as I have preached his true doctrine and gospel amongst you by word, so I shall testify and conf•••••• the same by deed, that is, I shall leave my life with you, which by his providence I first received there, (for in Manchester I was born) for a seal to the doctrine I have taught with you and amongst you: so that if from hence|forth you waver in the same, you have no excuse at all. I know the enemies of Christ which exercise this cruelty upon me, (I speak in respect of mine offence, which is none to themwards) think by kil••ing of me amongst you, to hinder you and others, lest they should attempt to teach Christ truly, or believe his doctrine hereafter. But I doubt

not but my heavenly Father will by my death more con|firm you in his truth. And therefore I greatly rejoice to see Satan and his soldiers supplanted in their own wis|dom, which is plain foolishness amongst the wise indeed, that is, amongst such as have heard God's word, and do fol|low it: for they only are counted wise of the wisdom of God our Saviour.

INDEED if I should simply consider my life with that which it ought to have been, and as God in his law requir|eth, then could I not but cry as I do, Righteous art thou, O Lord, and all thy judgments are true. For I have much grieved thee, and transgressed thy holy precepts, not only before my professing the gospel, but since also: yea, since my coming into prison I do not excuse, but accuse myself before God and all his church, that I have grievously of|fended my Lord God, I have not loved his gospel as I should have done, I have been too unthankful, secure, car|nel, hypocritical, vain-glorious, &c. All which my evils, the Lord of mercy pardon for his Christ's sake, as I hope and certainly believe he hath done for his great mercy in Christ our Redeemer.

BUT when I consider the cause of my condemnation, I cannot but lament, that I do no more rejoice than I do: for it is God's verity and truth. So that the condemna|tion is not a condemnation of Bradford simply, but rather a condemnation of Christ and of his truth. Bradford is nothing else but an instrument in whom Christ and his doctrine is condemned. And therefore, my dearly beloved, rejoice and give thanks with me and for me, that ever God did vouchsa••e so great a benefit to our country, as to chuse the most unworthy (I mean myself) to be one, in whom it would please him to suffer any kind of affliction: much more this violent kind of death, which I perceive is pre|pared for me with you for his sake. All glory and praise be given unto God our Father, for his great and exceeding mercy towards me through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.

BUT perchance you will say unto me, what is the cause for which you are condemned? We hear say, that you deny all presence of Christ in his holy supper, and so make it a bare sign and common bread, and nothing else. My dearly beloved, what is said, and what will be said of me, I cannot tell. It is told me that Dr. ••endleton is go••e down to preach with you, not as he once recanted, (for you all know he hath preached contrary to that he was wont to preach before I came amongst you) but to recant that which he hath recanted. How he will speak of me, and report be|fore I come, when I am come, and when I am burned, I mind not: for he that is so uncertain, and will speak so often against himself, I cannot think he will speak well of me, except it make for his purpose and profit: but of this enough.

INDEED the chief thing which I am condemned for, as an heretic, is because I deny in the sacrament of the altar, (which is not Christ's supper, but a plain perverting of it, being used as the papists now use it) to be a real, natural, and corporal presence of Christ's body and blood, under the form and accidents of bread and wine, that is, because I deny transubstantiation, which is the darling of the devil, and daughter and heir to Antichrist's religion, whereby the mass is maintained, Christ's supper perverted, his sacrifice and cross imperfected, his priesthood destroyed, the ministry taken away, repentance repelled, and all true godliness abandoned. In the supper of our Lord, or sacrament of Christ's body and blood, I confess and believe that there is a true, and very presence of the whole Christ, God and man, to the faith of the receiver, (but not to the stander by or looker on) as there is a very true presence of bread and wine to the senses of him that is partaker thereof. This faith, this doctrine, which consenteth with the word of God, and with the true testimony of Christ's church, (which the popish church doth persecute) will I not forsake, and therefore I am condemned as an heretic, and as such I shall be burned. But, my dearly beloved, (for which I lay down my life) I hope in God shall never be burnt, bound, nor overcome; but shall gloriously triumph, have victory, and be at liberty, in spite of the teeth of God's adversaries. For there is no counsel against the Lord, nor can any de|vice of man be able to defeat the truth in any other than such as be children of unbelief, who have no love to the truth, and therefore are given up to believe lies. From which plague the Lord of mercy deliver you, my dear hearts in the Lord, and all the realm, I humbly beseech his mercy, Amen.

AND that you may be delivered from this plague, I shall for my farewel with you for ever in this present life, heart|ily desire you all, in the bowels and blood of our most mer|ciful Saviour Jesus Christ, to attend unto these things which I am now going to write unto you out of the holy scriptures.

YOU know the heavy plague•• of God are fallen upon us, in taking away our king, and true religion, God's true prophets and ministers &c. and setting over us such as seek not the Lord after knowledge: whose endeavours God prospereth wonderfully to the trial of many, that his people may both better know themselves, and be known. Now the cause hereof is our iniquities and grievous sins. We knew not the tim•• of our visitation; we were un|thankful to God, we contemned, and carnally abused the gospel, to serve our hypocrisy, vain-glory, viciousness, ava|rice, idleness, security, &c. Long did the Lord linger, and tarry to have shewed mercy unto us, but we were ever the less deserving. Therefore God dealeth with us most justly, and even now he tempereth his justice with great mercy, by which we are preserved from utter destruction. If the Lord should deal with us according to our deserts, alas, who could bear it! Seeing in his anger he remembereth mercy, undeserved, (nay, even undesired by us) let us take occasion

the more readily to meet him, (not with force of arms, for we are not able to withstand him, much less to prevail a|gainst him) and beseech him to be merciful unto us, ac|cording to his wonted mercy to deal with us.

LET us arise with David, and say, "Enter not into judgment with thy servant, O Lord, for in thy sight no man living shall be justified." Let us send ambassadors with the centurion and say, "Lord, we are not worthy to come ourselves unto thee; speak the word, and we shall have peace." Let us patiently with the publican look down on the earth, knock our hard hearts to burst them, and cry out, "O God be merciful unto us, wretched sin|ners." Let us with the lost son return and say, "O Father, we have sinned against heaven and earth, and before thee, we are unworthy to be called thy children." Let us, I say, heartily repent of our former evil life, and turn to God with our whole hearts, hoping in his great mercy through Christ, and heartily calling upon his holy name, and then undoubt|edly we shall find and feel otherwise than yet we have felt, both inwardly and outwardly. Inwardly we shall feel peace of conscience between God and us, which peace passeth all understanding, and we shall find that the outward troubles and miseries of this life will be much mitigated, if not quite taken away.

THEREFORE, my dearly beloved in the Lord, I your poorest brother now departing to the Lord, for my eternal farewel in this life, pray you, beseech you, and even from the very bottom of my heart, by all the mercies of God shewed to you in Christ, most earnestly beg and intreat you out of prison, (as I have often done out of your pulpits) that you will repent, and henceforth leave your wicked lives, be sorry for your offences, and turn to the Lord, whose arms are wide open to receive and embrace you. For he is the Lord of mercy, and God of all comfort, he desireth not the death of a sinner, but rather that he should repent, and amend. He hath no pleasure in the destruction of men; his long suffering should draw you to repentance, before the time of vengeance, and the day of wrath, which is at hand, doth come.

NOW is the ax laid to the root of the tree utterly to de|stroy the impenitent. Now is the fire gone out before the face of the Lord, and who is able to quench it? O there|fore repent, repent. It is enough to have played the wan|ton gospellers, the proud protestants, hypocritical and false christians, as alas! we have done. Now the Lord speak|eth to us in mercy and grace; O turn before he speak in wrath. Yet is there mercy with the Lord, and plenteous redemption: yet he hath not forgotten to shew mercy to those that call upon him. O then call upon him while he may be found. For he is rich in mercy, and plentiful to all them that call upon him. So that he that calleth upon the name of the Lord shall be saved. If your sins be as red as scarlet, the Lord saith, he will make them as white as snow. He hath sworn, and never will repent him thereof, that he will never remember our iniquities: but as he is good, faithful, and true, so will he be our God, and we shall be his people: he will write his law in our hearts, and graft it in our minds, and never will he regard our unrighteous|ness.

THEREFORE, my dear hearts in the Lord, turn you, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 you to the Lord your Father, to the Lord your Saviour, to the Lord your Comforter. Oh why do you stop your ears, and harden your hearts to-day, when you hear his voice by me your poorest brother? O forget not how that the Lord hath shewed himself true, and me his true preacher, by bringing to pass these plagues which at my mouth you often heard before they came to pass, especially when I treated of Noah's flood, and when I preached on the xxii▪ chap. of St. Matthew's gospel, on St. Stephen's day, the last time that I was with you. And now by me the Lord sendeth you word, dear countrymen, that if you will go for|ward in your impenitence, carnality, hypocrisy, idolatry, covetousness, swearing, gluttony, drunkenness, whoredom, &c. (wherewith alas, alas, our country floweth!) if, I say, you will not turn and leave off, seeing me now burned amongst you, to assure you on all sides how God seeketh you, and is sorry to do you hurt, to plague you, to destroy you, to take vengeance upon you. O your blood will be upon your own heads: you have been warned, and warned again, by me in preaching, by me in burning.

AS I said therefore, I say again, my dear hearts in the Lord, turn you, turn you, repent you, cease from doing evil▪ study to do well, away with idolatry, fly the Romish go•• and service, leave off from swearing, cut off carnality, aban|don avarice, drive away drunkenness, fly from fornication and flattery, murder and malice, destroy deceitfulness, and cast away all the works of darkness. Put on mercy and piety, serve God after his word, and not after custom, use your tongues to glorify God by prayer, thanksgiving, and confession of his truth, &c. be spiritual, and by the spirit mortify carnal affections; be sober, holy, true, loving, gen|tle, merciful, and then the Lord's wrath will cease, not for this our doings sake, but for his mercy's sake. Go to therefore, good countrymen, take this counsel of the Lord, by me now sent unto you, as the Lord's counsel, and not as mine, that in the day of judgment I may rejoice with you and for you: which thing I heartily desire, and not to be a witness against you. My blood will cry for vengeance, against the papists as God's enemies, (whom I beseech God, if it be his will, heartily to forgive, yea, even them which put me to death and are the causers thereof, for they know not what they do) so will my blood cry for vengeance against you, my dearly beloved in the Lord, if ye repe••t not, amend not, and turn unto the Lord.

TURN unto the Lord, yet once more I heartily beseech thee, thou Manchester, thou Ashton-under-line, thou Bo••|ton, B••ry, Wigan, Liverpool, Winsley, Eccles, Middleton, and thou city of Westchester, &c. where I have truly taught and preached the word of God. Turn, I say unto

you all, and to all the inhabitants thereabouts, unto the Lord our God, and he will turn unto you; he will say un|to his angel, It is enough, put up the sword. Which that he may do, I humbly beseech his goodness, for the precious blood's sake of his dear Son our Saviour Jesus Christ. Ah good brethren, take in good part these my last words unto every one of you. Pardon me mine offences and negli|gences in behaviour amongst you. The Lord of mercy pardon us all our offences for our Saviour Jesus Christ's sake. Out of prison ready to come to you, the 11th of February, 1555.

LETTER V. From Mr. BRADFORD to the Town of WALDEN.

TO the faithful, and such as profess the true doctrine of our Saviour Jesus Christ, dwelling at Walden and thereabouts, John Bradford, a most unworthy servant of the Lord, now in bonds and condemned for the same true doctrine, wisheth grace, mercy, and peace, with the increase of all godliness in knowledge and living, from God the Father of all comfort, through the merits of our only Re|deemer Jesus Christ, by the mighty working of the most Holy Spirit, the Comforter, for ever. Amen.

WHEN I remember, how that by the providence and grace of God I have been a man by whom it hath pleased him, through my ministry, to call you to repentance and amendment of life, something effectually, as it seemed, and to sow amongst you his true doctrine and religion, lest that by my affliction, and storms now arisen to try the faithful, and to conform them to the image of the Son of God, into whose company we are called, you might be faint-hearted; I could not but out of prison secretly (for my keepers must not know that I have pen and ink) write unto you a signifi|cation of the desire I have, that you should be more con|firmed in the doctrine I have taught you, which I am as|sured is the plain and infallible truth of God, and also that you be warned to govern your lives and conversation agree|able thereto. Dearly beloved in the Lord, had I taught you fables, tales, or lies, instead of this truth, I should not so willingly seal it with my blood.

INDEED, to confess the truth to you and all the church of Christ, I do think of myself that I have 〈◊〉〈◊〉 only most justly deserved this kind of death, but also all kinds of deaths, and that eternally, for mine hypocrisy, vain-glory, uncleanness, self-love, covetousness, idleness, unthankfulness, and carnal professing of God's holy gospel, living therein not so purely and industriously as I should have done: may the God of all mercy pardon me through the merits of Christ's blood, as I hope, yea, I certainly believe he hath done. My dearly beloved, you and all the world well know, and may plainly perceive, that the prelates persecute Christ in me; they do not trouble me for the evil I have done, but for the good I have endeavoured to do, in standing up for the honour of God and his gospel; and because I cannot, dare not, and will not confess transubstantiation, and that wicked men, yea mice and dogs eating the sacrament of the altar, as they term it, (whereby they utterly overthrow Christ's holy sup|per) do eat the natural and real body of Christ which was born of the virgin Mary: I say, because I will not come into these absurd notions, I am deemed an heretic unworthy to live.

TO believe and confess as God's word teacheth, the pri|mitive church believed, and all the catholic and good holy fathers taught, 500 years at least after Christ, that in the supper of the Lord, (which the mass overthroweth, as it doth Christ's priesthood, sacrifice, death, and passion, the ministry of his word, true faith, repentance, and all godli|ness) whole Christ, God and man, is present by grace to the faith of the receivers, but not to the standers by or lookers on, as bread and wine is to their senses, will not serve: and therefore I am condemned, and shall be burned out of hand as an heretic. Wherefore I heartily thank my Lord God, that will and doth vouchsafe me worthy to be an instrument, in whom he himself doth suffer. For you see my affliction is not simply, because I have deserved no less, but much more at his hands and justice: but rather because I confess his truth, and by his grace, I am not afraid so to do, that you also might be confirmed in his truth. Therefore, my dearly beloved, I do heartily desire you, and all that sincerely love me in God, to give hearty thanks with me and for me to our heavenly Father, through our sweet Saviour Jesus Christ: for this is his exceeding great, mercy towards me and you also, that your faith waver not from the doctrine I have taught, and you have received. For what can you desire more, to assure your consciences of the verity taught by your preachers, than their own lives?

THEREFORE, my dear friends, waver not in Christ's re|ligion truly taught you, and set forth in the days of king Edward. Never shall the enemies be able to burn, im|prison, or keep it in bonds. They may bind and burn us as they please, so long as God shall give them leave; but our cause, religion, and doctrine which we profess, they shall never be able to put away. Their idolatry and po|pish religion, shall never be built in the consciences of men that love God's truth. As for those that love not his gos|pel, that have no pleasure in his ways, over those the devil shall prevail: for God will give them up to strong delu|sions that they may believe lies. Therefore, dear brethren, I humbly beseech you in the blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, as I am now going to death for the testimony of Jesus, and as I have often pressed you from the pulpit, that you love the Lord's truth; so love it, that you frame your lives ac|cording to it. Alas, you know the cause of all these plagues now falling upon us, which God's enemies daily triumph in, that it is for our not loving God's word as we ought to do.

YOU know that we were gospellers in lips and not in life. We were glutted with, and tired of the word of God:

yea, we loathed it, as the children of Israel did the manna in the wilderness; and therefore as the Lord's wrath waxed hot with them, so it doth with us. So that there is no other remedy, but that (for it is better late to turn, than never to turn) we confess our faults even from the bottom of our hearts, and with hearty repentance, (which God grant to us all) we run unto the Lord our God, who is exorable, merciful, and sorry for the evil poured out upon us; and cry unto him with Daniel, saying, We have sinned, we have grievously sinned, O Lord God, against thy majesty; we have heaped iniquity upon iniquity: the measure of our transgressions floweth over, so that thy vengeance and wrath is justly fallen upon us. For we are very miserable, for we have contemned thy long suffering, we have not hearkened to thy voice. When thou hast called us by preachers, we hardened our hearts, and therefore now we justly deserve to have our hearts hardened like Pharaoh, to have eyes and see not, ears and hear not, hearts and under|stand not, lest we should turn and be saved. O be merciful unto us; spare us, good Lord, and all thy people whom thou hast dearly bought. Let not thine enemies triumph altogether, and always against thee, for then they will be puffed up. Look down and behold the pitiful complaint of the poor; let the sorrowful sighing of the simple come into thy sight, and be not angry with us for ever. Turn us, O Lord God of hosts, unto thee, and turn thou unto us, that thou mayest be justified in thy sweet sentences, and over|come when thou art judged, as now thou art by our adver|saries. For they say, Where is their God? Can God de|liver them now? Can their gospel serve them? O Lord, how long? for thy honour's sake, in the bowels and blood of Jesus Christ, we humbly beseech thee, come and help us, for we are very miserable.

IN this manner let us publicly and privately bewail our sins; and at the same time endeavour to avoid them as much as possible, especially all wilful and habitual sins; for if we nourish them in our hearts, the Lord will not hear us, for the prayer of the wicked is abominable in the sight of God, saith the prophet. And in St. John it is written, The impenitent sinners God heareth not; and they are im|penitent who purpose not to amend their lives. Those who, for fear or favour of men, worship God in a false man|ner, and contrary to their own consciences consent to the Romish rags, and resort to the rotten religion, communica|ting in service and ceremonies with the papists, thereby declaring, in effect, that they love the world more than God, and fear men more than Christ, and dread the loss of tem|poral things more than spiritual; I say, such men do sin as presumptuously as those who are wilfully guilty of the great|est immorality; for it is evident that the love of God a|bideth not in them. He that loveth the world, hath not God's word abiding in him, saith St. John: therefore my dear brethren in the Lord, remember what you have pro|fessed, Christ's name and religion, and the renouncing the devil, sin, and the world.

REMEMBER, that before you learned ABC, your 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was Christ's cross. Forget not that Christ will have 〈◊〉〈◊〉 disciples, but such as will promise to deny themselves, and take up their cross, (mark, take it up) and follow him, and not the multitude, custom, &c. Consider for God's 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that if we gather not with Christ, we scatter abroad. Wh•••• should it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose 〈◊〉〈◊〉 own soul? We must not forget that this life is a wild••••|ness, and not a paradise: here is not our home; we are now in warfare: we must needs fight, or else be taken prison••••. Of all the things we have in this life, we shall carry nothing with us. If Christ be our captain, we must follow him. I we keep company with him in affliction, we shall be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of his society in glory everlasting. If we forsake not hi••, he will never forsake us; but if we deny him, he will deny us. If we be ashamed of him, he will be ashamed of us. Wherefore, as he forsook his Father and ••••••|ven, and all the glory thereof, to come to us, to suffer poverty, torments, and death for our sakes, surely the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that we can do, is to forsake all the trifles here below, and go to him, especially when by so doing we make 〈…〉〈…〉 eternal interest. Whatsoever you lose for the Lord's 〈◊〉〈◊〉 shall be restored three-fold to your children: and you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 find peace of conscience and friendship with God, which is infinitely more worth than all the kingdoms of this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and the glory thereof.

MY dearly beloved, therefore for the Lord's sake con|sider these things which I now write unto you of 〈…〉〈…〉 my farewel, and last farewel for ever in this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Turn to the Lord, repent of your evil and unthankful 〈◊〉〈◊〉 declare repentance by the fruits, take time while you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it, come to the Lord while he calleth you, run into his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 while his arms be open to embrace you, seek him while 〈◊〉〈◊〉 may be found, call upon him while time is convenient, ••••••|sake and ••ly from all evil, both in religion and in the rest of your life and conversation. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and praise God in the day of his visitation. Oh come again, come again, you strange children, and I will receive you, saith the Lord Repent and turn to me, and I will turn to you. Why will ye needs perish? As sure as I live, (saith the Lord) I de|sire not your death, turn therefore unto me. Can a woman forget 〈◊〉〈◊〉 child of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 womb? If she should, yet will I not forget you, saith the Lord your God. I am he, I am he which put away your sins for mine own sake.

O then dear friends, turn, I say, unto your dearest Father. Cast not these sweet and loving words to the ground, for the Lord watcheth on his word to perform it: which is in two sorts; to them that lay it up in their hearts, and believe it, will he pay all, and eternal joy and comfort. But to them that cast it at their backs, and will forget it, to them, I say, will he pour out indignation and eternal shame. Wherefore I heartily yet once more beseech and pray you, and every of you, not to contemn this poor and simple exhortation, which now out of prison I make 〈◊〉〈◊〉

you, or rather the Lord by me. I am unwilling to be a witness against you in the last day; as of truth I must if you repent not, if you love not God's gospel, yea, if you love it not.

THEREFORE, to conclude, repent, love God's gospel, let it be all your coversation; so shall God's name be praised, his plagues be mitigated, his people comforted, and his enemies ashamed. Grant all this thou gracious Lord God, to every one of us for thy dear Son's sake, our Saviour Jesus Christ; to whom with thee and the Holy Ghost be eternal glory for ever and ever. Amen. Febru|ary 12, 1555.

By the bondman of our Lord, and your afflicted poor brother, JOHN BRADFORD.

LETTER VI. From Mr. BRADFORD, to his loving BRETHREN, B. C. &c. their WIVES and whole FAMILIES.

I Beseech the everlasting God to grant you all▪ my good brethren and sisters, the comfort of the Holy Spirit, and the continual sense of his mercy in Christ our Lord, now and for ever, Amen.

THE world, my brethren, seemeth to have the upper hand, iniquity overfloweth, the truth and verity seemeth to be oppressed, and they which take the part therewith are unjustly treated; as they which love the truth, lament to see and hear as they do. The cause of all this is God's anger and mercy: his anger, because we have most grievously sinned against him; his mercy, because he here punisheth us, and as a Father nurtureth us. We have been un|thankful for his word; we have contemned his kindness; we have been negligent in prayer; we have been so carnal, covetous, licentious, &c. we have not hastened to heaven-ward, but rather hell-ward, We were fallen almost into an open contempt of God, and all his good ordinances; so that of his justice he could no longer forbear, but make us feel his anger as how he hath done, in taking his word and true service from us, and permitting Satan to serve us with antichristian religion; and that in such sort, that if we will not yield to it, and seem to allow it in deed and outward fact, our bodies are like to be laid in prison, and our goods given we cannot tell to whom.

WE should look upon this as a sign of God's anger pro|cured by our sins; which, my good brethren, every one of us should often call to our memories, as particularly as we can, that we might heartily lament them, repent them, hate them, earnestly ask mercy for them, and submit our|selves to bear in this life any kind of punishment which God will lay upon us for them. This should we do in consideration of God's anger in this time. Now his mer|cy in this time of his wrath is seen, and should be seen in us, my dearly beloved, in this, that God doth vouchsafe to punish us in this present life. If he should not have punished us, do not you think that we would have conti|nued in the evils we were in? Yes verily, we should have been worse, and have gone forwards in hardening our hearts by impenitence, and negligence of true godliness. And then if death had come, should not we have perished both soul and body in eternal fire in perdition? Alas, what misery should we have fallen into, if God should have suffered us to have gone forward in our evils? There is no greater sign of damnation, than to lie in evil and sin unpunished by God, as now the papists (my dearly be|loved) are cast in Jezebel's bed of security, which of all plagues is the most grievous that can be. They are bast|ards and not son••▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉 are not under God's rod of correc|tion.

A great mercy it 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••••erefore that God doth punish us: for if he loved us not, he would not punish us. Now doth he chastise 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that we should not be damned with the world. Now doth he nurture us, because he favoureth us. Now may we think ourselves God's house and chil|dren, because he beginneth his chastizing with us. Now he calleth us to remember our sins past. Wherefore? That we might repent and ask mercy. And why? That he might forgive us, pardon us, justify us, and make us his children, and so begin to make us like unto Christ here, that we might be like unto him elsewhere, even in heaven, where already we are set by faith with Christ; and at his coming in very deed we shall then most joyfully enjoy, when our sinful and vile bodies shall be made like to Christ's glorious body according to the power whereby he is able to make all things subject to himself.

THEREFORE my brethren, let us in respect hereof not lament, but praise God; not be sorry, but be merry; not weep▪ but rejoice and be glad, that God doth vouch|safe to offer us his cross, thereby to come to him to endless joys and comforts. For if we suffer, we shall reign; if we confess him before men, he will confess us before his Father in heaven; if we be not ashamed of his gospel now, he will not be ashamed of us in the last day, but will be glori|f••ed in us, crowning us with crowns of glory and endless felicity: for, "Blessed are they that s••ffer persecution for righteousness' sake, for their's is the kingdom of heaven." Be glad, (saith Peter) for the Spirit of God resteth upon you. And after that you are a little afflicted, God will comfort, strengthen, and confirm you. And therefore, my good brethren, be not discouraged for cross, for prison, or loss of goods, for confession of Christ's gospel and truth which you have believed, and was lively taught amongst you in the days of our late good king and most holy prince, king Edward. This is most certain, if you lose any thing for Christ's sake, and for contemning the antichristian ser|vice,

set up again amongst us; as you for your parts even in prison shall find God's great and rich mercy, far passing all worldly wealth; so shall your wives and children in this present life find and feel God's providence, more plentifully than tongue can tell. For he will shew merciful kindness on them that love him. The good man's seed shall not go a begging his bread. You are good men, so many as suffer for Christ's sake.

I trust you all, my dearly beloved, will consider this with yourselves, and in the cross see God's mercy, which is more sweet than life itself, much more than any pelf of this world. T••is mercy of God should make you merry and chearful; for the afflictions of this life are not to be compared with the joys of the life prepared for you. You know that the way to heaven is not the wide way of the world, which leadeth to the devil; but the way to heaven is strait, which few people walk in. For few live godly in Christ Jesus; few regard the life to come; few remem|ber the day of judgment; few remember how Christ will deny them before his Father, that do deny him here; few consider that Christ will be ashamed of them in the last day, who are ashamed of his truth and true service; few imagine how their accounts will stand at the day of ven|geance; few regard the condemnation of their own con|sciences, in doing that which inwardly they disallow; and few love God better than their goods.

I trust you are of this few, my dearly beloved, I hope you be of that little flock, who shall inherit the kingdom of heaven; I hope you are those mourners and lamenters, who shall be comforted with such comfort as shall never be taken from you. Repent of your former evils: strive against those evil inclinations that are in you: continue to call upon God: defile not your bodies with the idolatrous service of the antichristian church of Rome: molest not the good Spirit of God, which is given you as a pledge of your eternal redemption, a counsellor and guide to lead you to his eternal truth; which good Spirit I beseech the Father of mercy to give to us all, for the sake of his dear Son Jesus Christ our Lord; to whom I commend you all, and to the word of his grace, which is able to help you all, and save all that believe it, and lead their lives according to it.

OF this you may be very certain, that all the hairs of your heads are numbered, so that not one of them shall perish, neither shall any man or devil be able to hurt, or even attempt to hurt any of you, without the permission of our heavenly Father, who tenderly loveth you; and when he hath given them leave, they shall go no farther than he will, nor keep you in trouble any longer than he pleases. Therefore cast your care on him, for he careth for you. Only study to please him, and to keep your con|sciences clean, and your bodies pure from the idolatrous service, which now every-where is used, and God will marvellously and mercifully defend and comfort you, for the sake of his holy name in Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.

LETTER VII. From Mr. BRADFORD to ERKINALDE RAWLINS, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his WIFE.

GOD our dear and most merciful Father through Je|sus Christ, be with you, my good brother and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 as with his children for ever, and in all things ••o guide you with his Holy Spirit, the leader of his people, as may be to his glory, and your own everlasting joy and comfort in him. Amen.

AS you have often relieved my necessities, (for which I beseech God to make me thankful, and to recompense you both here and hereafter) I cannot but endeavour, as I a•• in gratitude bound, to write something for your spiritual comfort.

MY dearly beloved, look not upon these days, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 afflictions which they bring, as dismal days, and days 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of God's vengeance, but rather of good days, or days 〈◊〉〈◊〉 God's fatherly kindness towards you, and such as you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that is, towards such as repent of their past sins, and earnest|ly purpose to amend their lives, walking not after the way of the world, and the greatest part of men, for the preserva|tion of their pelf, which they shall leave sooner or 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ and to whom, and how it shall be used, they know 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ Indeed to such as walk in their wickedness, and wind 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with the world, this time is a time of wrath and vengea••••••, and their beginning of sorrow is but now, because they con|temn the physic of their Father, which by this purging time and cleansing days would work for their health, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 they did but consider it: and because they will not have God's blessing, which hath been offered to them both by prosperity and adversity, therefore it shall be kept for enough from them. As when the sick man will receive 〈◊〉〈◊〉 kind of physic from the hands of the physician, he is 〈◊〉〈◊〉 alone, and so the malady increaseth, and at length destroy|eth him. To such men, indeed, these days are, and should be doleful days, and days of woe and weeping, because their damnation draweth nigh.

BUT unto such as be penitent, and are desirous to live after the Lord's will, (among whom I do not only count you, but as far as a man may judge, I ••now you are) unto such, I say, this time is, and should be comfortable. For now our Father chastiseth us for our sins, if he had had a mind to destroy us, he would have left us to ourselves, to seek our own ways, and work our own ruin: let us patiently embrace his fatherly visitation, for he chastiseth us in this world, lest with the world we should perish. Therefore, dear friends, call to mind and lament your sins; pray for mercy and forgiveness, and undoubtingly believe that God

will hear you: for he doth not punish twice for one thing.

SO that, I say, we have cause to rejoice for these days, because our Father suffereth us not to lie in Jezebel's bed, sleeping in our own sins and security, but as mindful of us, doth correct us as his own children; whereby we may be certain that we are no bastards, but sons; for he cor|recteth every son whom he receiveth. So that they who are not partakers of his chastisements, or that contemn it, declare themselves to be bastards and not sons, as I know you are, who being chastised, improve it accordingly. And therefore, my dear friends, be glad, knowing certain|ly even by these visitations of the Lord, that ye are his dear and chosen children, whose faults your Father doth visit with the rod of correction, but his mercy will he never take away from us. Amen.

YOU have cause to rejoice for these days, because they are days of trial, wherein you yourselves, and all the world shall know that you belong not to it, but are God's darlings. Before these days came, Lord God I how many thought themselves in God's bosom, and so were taken, and would be taken by the world? But now we see whose they are. For, whom we obey, his servants we be. If we obey the world, (which God forbid, and hitherto you have not done it) then are we the world's; but if we obey God, then are we God's. Which thing (I mean, that you are God's) these days have declared both to you, to me, and to all others that know you, better than ever we know it. Therefore you have no cause to be sorry, but rather to rejoice at this assurance of being the Lord's children, and as you are so accounted by all good people.

WHAT though the world repine thereat? what though it kick? what though it seek to trouble and molest you? it doth but according to its nature: he cannot love the Lord who liveth not in the Lord: he cannot brook the child that hateth the Father: he that careth not for the master will not mind the servant. If ye were of the world, the world would love you, you should live quietly, there would be no grief, no molestation. If the devil dwelt in you, (which God forbid) he would not stir up his knights to besiege your house, or suffer his fiends to enter into your swine: but because Christ dwelleth in you, (as he doth by faith) therefore the devil stirreth up his first begotten son, the world, to seek how to disquiet you, to rob you, to spoil you, and to destroy you: and perchance your dear Father, to try, and to make known to you and to the world, that you are intended for a better habitation than can be found here upon earth, even an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens; hath given, or will give power to Satan, and to the world, to take from you the things which he hath lent you, and by taking them away, to try your fidelity, obedience, and love towards him, (for you must not love them above him) as by giving that you have, and keeping it, he hath declared his love towards you.

SATAN, it may be, telleth God, (as he did of Job) that you love God for the sake of your goods. What then, If the Lord, to try you with Job, should give him power over your goods and body, would you be dismayed? would you despair? would you be faint-hearted? or would you not rather rejoice, as the apostles did, that they were worthy to suffer any thing for the Lord's sake? O forget not the end that happened to Job, for as it happened to him, so shall it happen unto you. For God is the same God, and cannot long forget to shew mercy to them that look and long for it, as you do, and I pray you still so to do: for the Lord loveth you, and never can nor will forget to shew and pour out his mercy upon you. After he hath afflicted and tried you a little while, (saith St. Peter) he will visit, comfort, and confirm you; as he did to Jacob wrestling with the angel, when at length morning came, and the sun arose; so, doubtless, it will happen unto you. How|ever, do ye as Job and Jacob did, that is, order and dispose the things that God hath lent you, as well as you can while you have time: who knoweth but God hath given you power thus long, for that end?

GO therefore, dispose of your goods, prepare yourselves to trial, that ye may either stand to it like God's cham|pions, or else if you feel such infirmity in yourselves that ye be not able, give place to violence, and go where you may serve the Lord with a free and safe conscience. Think not this counsel to come by chance and fortune, but from the Lord. Other oracles we may not look for now. And God told Joseph in a dream by an angel, that he should ••ly, so if you feel such infirmity in yourselves, as should turn to God's dishonour, and your own destruction with|al, know that at this present I am as God's angel, to ad|monish you to take time while ye have it, and to see that God's name might not be dishonoured by you. Joseph might have objected the omission of his vocation, as per|chance ye will do. But (dear hearts) let vocations and all things else give place to God's name, and the sanctifying thereof.

THIS I speak, not as though I would not have you ra|ther to tarry, and to stand to it: but I speak it in respect of your infirmity, which if you feel to be so great in you, that you are not certain of this hope, that God will never tempt you above your ability; ••ly and get you hence, and know that thereby God will have you tried to yourselves and to others. For by it you shall know how to take this world, and that your home here is no home, but that ye look for another, and so give occasion to ••••••hers 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to love this world, and perchance to some to doubt of their religion. Wherein though they be earnest, yet would they not lose so much as ye do for your religion, which ye do confirm to me and others, by your giving place to violence.

LAST of all, ye have cause to rejoice over these our days, because they be the days of confirmation, in which and by which, God our heavenly Father maketh us like to Christ's image here, that we may be like unto him elsewhere. For if we suffer with him, then shall we rise with him again; if we accompany with him in all troubles and afflictions, then shall we rejoice with him in glory; if we now sow with him in tears, we shall reap with him in gladness: if we confess him before men, he will confess us before his Father in heaven; if we take his part, he will take our's; if we lose aught for his name's sake, he will give us all things for his truth's sake. So that we ought to rejoice and be glad, for it is not given to every one to suffer loss of country, life, goods, house, &c. for the Lord's sake. What can God the Father do more unto us, than to call us into the camp with his Son? What may Christ our Saviour do more for us, then to make us his warriors? What can the Holy Ghost do to us above this, to mark us with the cognizance of the Lord of Hosts?

THIS cognizance of the Lord standeth not in forked caps, tippets, shaven crowns, or such other baggage and antichristian pelf, but in suffering for the Lord's sake. "The world shall hate you," saith Christ. Lo, there is the cognizance and badge of God's children; the world shall hate you. Rejoice therefore, (my dearly beloved) rejoice, that God doth vouchsafe to begin to conform you, and to make you like to Christ. By the trial of these days ye are occasioned more to repent, more to pray, more to desire life everlasting, more to be holy, (for holy is the and for which God doth afflict us) and so to come to God's company. Which thing because we cannot do as long as it is, therefore by the door of death we must enter with Christ into eternal life, and immortality of soul and body; which God of his mercy send shortly for our Saviour Je|sus Christ's sake. Amen.

LETTER VIII. From Mr. BRADFORD, to Mrs. A. WARCUP.

THE everlasting peace of Christ be more and more lively felt in our hearts, by the operation of the Holy Ghost, now and for ever, Amen.

ALTHOUGH I know it to be more than needless to write any thing unto you, good sister, being, as I doubt not but you be, diligently exercised ••n reading of the scriptures, in meditating of the same, and in hearty prayer to God for the help of his Holy Spirit, to have the sense and feeling, especially of the comforts you read in God's word: yet having such opportunity, and not knowing whether here|after I shall ever have the like, (as this messenger can de|clare) I thought good in few words to take my farewel in writing, because otherwise I cannot. And now methinks I have done it. For what else can I, or should I say unto you, my dearly beloved in the Lord, but farewel? Fare|wel, dear sister, farewel; howbeit in the Lord, our Lord, (I say) farewel. In him shall you fare well, and so much the better, by how much in yourself you fare evil, and shall fare evil.

WHEN I speak of yourself, I mean also this world, this life, and all things properly pertaining to this life. In them as you look not for your welfare, so be not 〈◊〉〈◊〉 when accordingly you shall not see it. To the Lord 〈◊〉〈◊〉 God, to the Lamb our Christ, which hath borne our 〈◊〉〈◊〉 on his back, and is our Mediator for ever, do I send 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ In him look for welfare, and that without wavering, be|cause of his own goodness and truth, which our wicked|ness cannot take away: not that I would have you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 yourself in any evil or unbelief, but that I may comfort you, that they should not dismay you. Your's is our Christ wholly; your's, I say, he is, with all that ever he hath: is not this welfare, think you? Mountains shall move, and the earth shall fall, before you find it otherwise, say that liar Satan what he list.

THEREFORE, good sister, farewel, and be merry in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Lord, be merry, I say, for you have good cause. If yo•• welfare, joy, and salvation, hanged upon any other 〈◊〉〈◊〉 than God's mercy and truth, then ye might well be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 heavy, and stand in doubt: but in as much as it 〈◊〉〈◊〉 only upon these two, (I mean God's mercy and truth) 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Satan that he lieth when he would persuade you to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hesitating, by causing you to cast your eyes (which only in this case should be set on Christ our sweet Saviour) 〈◊〉〈◊〉 yourself. In some part, indeed, look on yourself, on your faith, on your love, obedience, &c. to awaken you from security, to stir you up to diligence, in doing the things appertaining to your vocation: but when you would be at peace with God, and have true consolation in your con|science, altogether look upon the goodness of God in Christ. Think on this commandment which precedeth all other, That you must have no other gods but the Lord Jeho••••h, which is your Lord God: which he could not be, if he did not pardon your sins in very deed. Remember that Christ commandeth you to call him Father for the same 〈◊〉〈◊〉. And here call to mind all the benefits of God hitherto shewed upon you: and so shall you feel in very deed, that which I wish unto you now, and pray you to wish unto 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Farewel, dear sister, in the Lord Jesus, with whom he grant us shortly to meet as his children, for his name and mercy•• sake, to our eternal welfare. Amen.

LETTER IX. To Mr. LAURENCE SAUNDERS, Prisoner in the Marshelsea.

MY good brother, I beseech our good and gracious Father always to continue his gracious favour and love towards us, and by us, as by instruments of his grace, to

work his glory and the confusion of his adversaries. "Out of the mouth of infants and babes he will shew forth his praise to destroy the enemy," &c.

I have perused your letters to myself, and have read them to others. For answer whereof, if I should write what Dr. Taylor and Mr. Philpot do think, then must I say, that they think the salt sent unto us by your friend, is unseason|able. And I think they will both declare it heartily, if they should come before men. As for me, if you would know what I think, (my good and most dear brother) because I am so sinful and so defiled (the Lord knoweth that I lie not) with many grievous sins, which I hope are washed away with the blood of Christ, I neither can nor would be con|sulted withal, but stood as a cypher. Howbeit, to tell you how and what I mind▪ take this for a sum: I pray God in no case I may seek myself, and indeed I thank God for it, I purpose it not.

THAT which remaineth I commit to my Lord God, and I trust in him, that he will do according to this: Cast thy care on the Lord, &c. Cast all your care upon him, &c. Reveal unto the Lord thy way, and trust, &c. Whosoever trusteth in the Lord, mercy shall compass him about. Fo•• the Lord is faithful: he will in temptation make a way that you may be able to bear it. The Lord knoweth how to rid out of temptation the godly, &c. O would to God, I were godly, &c. The Lord knoweth how to deliver out of temp|tation such as trust in him, &c. I cannot think that they will offer any kind of indifferent or mean conditions: for if we will not adore the beast, we never shall be delivered, but against their will, think I. God our Father and gra|cious Lord make perfect the good he hath begun in us.

HE will do it, my brother, my dear brother, whom I have in my inward bowels to live and die with. O that I were with you. Pray for me, my own heart root in the Lord.

For ever your own, JOHN BRADFORD.

LETTER X. From the Same to the Same.

GOD's sweet peace in Christ be with you, my good brother in the Lord Jesus, and with all your fellow captives, Amen.

I was hindered this morning from musing on that which I purposed to have thought on by reason of you, against whom I saw myself guilty of negligence, even in this point that I would not write, I should say, that I had not written unto you as yet: therefore I prepared myself out of hand to clear myself hereof, not that I will go about to excuse my fault, (for that were more to load me) but by asking God and you pardon, to get it no more laid to my charge. Now when I was thus purposing, and p••••tly doing, there came one with a letter from you: for which as I have cause to thank God and you, so I see myself more blame-worthy for thus long holding my peace. Howbeit, good brother, in this I have given a demonstration to you, to behold my negligence in all other things, and especially in praying for you, and for the church of God, which for my sins and hypocrisy, (hypocrisy indeed even in this writing, God de|liver me from it) have deserved all kinds of plagues at his hands: but yet merciful is he that will on this wise chastize us in this world, that we should not be condemned with the world. He might otherwise have punished us, I mean, he might have cast us in prison for other causes, me especially, than for his gospel and word's sake. Praised therefore be his name, who vouchsafeth us worthy of this honour. Ah good God, forgive us our sins, and work by this thy father|ly correction on us, on me especially, effectually to love thee and thy Christ; and with joyfulness carry thy cross to the end.

AH good brother, If I could always have God, his ma|jesty, mercy, heaven, hell, &c. before mine eyes, then should I endure, as St. Paul writeth of Moses, Heb. xi. "He en|dured as he that saw him which is invisible." Pray for me as I do know you do, and give thanks also: for, "In the Lord I trust, I shall not waver. If I walk by the valley of the shadow of death, I will not fear, for thou art with me, O Lord." I think we shall be shortly called forth; for now they have a law, and according to it they proceed, &c. otherwise they will not reason with us; and I think their sheet anchor will be, to have us to subscribe. Which thing if we do, though with this condition, (so far as the thing sub|scribed to is not against God's word) yet this will be offen|sive. Therefore let us all confess that we are no change|lings, but the same as we were in religion, and therefore cannot subscribe except we will dissemble both with God, ourselves, and the world. These things I write to you, dear brother in the Lord. Now I will read your epistle. Ah brother, that I had the practical understanding with you in that vine which you describe: pray the Lord that I may think so indeed. God make me thankful for you. All our fellow-prisoners salute you, and give thanks to God for you. The same do you for us, and pray that, &c.

Your brother in the Lord Jesus, To live and die with you, JOHN BRADFORD.

LETTER XI. From Mr. BRADFORD to the Rev. Fathers, Dr. CRAN|MER, Dr. RIDLEY, and Dr. LATIMER.

JESUS Immanuel. My dear fathers in the Lord, I be|seech God our sweet Father through Christ, to make perfect the good he hath begun in us all. Amen.

I had thought that every one of your staves had stood next the door, but now it is otherwise perceived. Our

dear brother Rogers hath broken the ice valiantly, as this day, I think, or to-morrow at the uttermost, hearty Hooper, sincere Saunders, and trusty Taylor, end their course, and receive their crown. The next am I, which hourly look for the porter to open me the gates after them, to enter into the desired rest. God forgive me mine unthankfulness for this exceeding great mercy, that amongst so many thousands it pleaseth his mercy to chuse me to be one▪ in whom he will suffer, (for I have been a great hypocrite and a grie|vous sinner, the Lord pardon me, yea, he hath done it, he hath done it indeed) ye what evil hath he done? Christ whom the prelates persecute, his verity which they hate in me, hath done no evil, nor deserved death. Therefore ought I most he••••••••ly to rejoice of this tender kindness of the Lord toward me, which useth a remedy for my sin as a testimonial of his testament, to his glory, to my everlasting comfort, to the edifying of his church, and to the overthrow|ing of Antichrist, and his kingdom. Oh what am I, Lord, that thou shouldst thus magnify me so vile a man and miser, as always I have been? Is this thy custom, to send for such a wretch and hypocrite as I have been, in a fiery chariot as thou didst for Elijah? O dear fathers be thankful for me, that I still might be found worthy in whom the Lord would sanctify his holy name. And for your part, make you ready; for we are but your gentlemen ushers. The marriage of the Lamb is prepared, come unto the marriage. I now go to leave my flesh there where I received it. I shall be con|veyed thither, as Ignatius was ••o Rome, to be devoured by leopards; by whose evil I hope to be made better. God grant, if it be his will, they may be made better by me. Amen.

FOR my farewel therefore, I write and send this unto you, trusting shortly to see you where we shall never be separated. In the mean season I will not cease, as I have done, to commend you to the Father of heaven, and that you would do so by me, I most heartily pray every one of you: you know now that I have most need. "Faithful is God, who will not suffer us to be tempted above our strength." He never did it hitherto, and I am assured he never will, Amen. "He is on my right hand, therefore I shall not fall. Wherefore my heart shall rejoice, for he shall not leave my soul in hell, neither shall he suffer me his holy one, by his grace in Christ, to see corruption."

OUT of prison in haste, looking for the tormentor, February 8, 1555.

JOHN BRADFORD.

LETTER XII. To the Right Honourable the Lord RUSSEL, Earl of BEDFORD, being then in Trouble for the Cause of RELIGION.

THE everlasting and most gracious God and Father of our Saviour Jesus Christ, bless your good lord|ship with all manner of heavenly blessings in the same Christ our only comfort and hope, Amen.

PRAISED be God our Father, who hath thought you worthy of faith in his Christ, and of his cross for the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Magnified be his holy name, who, as he hath delivered you from one cross, so hath made you willing (I hope) and ready to bear another when he shall see his time to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it upon you: for these are the most singular gifts of God, given as to few, so to none else but to those few who are most dear in his sight. Faith is reckoned, and worthily, among the greatest gifts of God, yea, it is the greatest that we can enjoy. For by it, as we be justified and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 God's children, so are we temples and possessors of the Holy Spirit, yea, of Christ also, Ephes. iv. and of the Father himself, John xiv. By faith we drive the devil away▪ 1 Pet. v. We overcome the world, 1 John v. and are al|ready citizens of heaven, and fellows with God's 〈◊〉〈◊〉 saints. But who is able to reckon the riches that the faith bringeth with her unto the soul she sitteth upon▪ No man nor angel. And therefore (as I said) of all God's gifts, she may be placed at the head, and have the highest seat. Which if men would rightly consider, (in that it cometh only from God's mercy-seat, not of hearing masses, mattins, dirges, or such dross, but by hearing the word 〈◊〉〈◊〉 God in such a tongue as we may understand it) as they would be diligent and take great heed for doing or 〈◊〉〈◊〉 any thing which might cast her down, (for then they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 also) so would they with no less care read and hear Go•••• holy word, joining thereto most earnest and hearty 〈◊〉〈◊〉, as well for the better understanding, as for the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 living, and confessing the same, in spite of the devil, the world, the flesh, reason, goods, possessions, carnal friends, wife, children, and very life here, if they pull us back 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hearken to their voice and counsel, for more quiet, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and longer use of them.

NOW notwithstanding this excellency of faith, in that we read the apostle to match therewith, yea, (as it were) to prefer suffering persecution for Christ's sake, I suppose no man will be so weak as to think otherwise, but that I and all God's children have cause to glorify and praise him, who hath made you worthy of so great a blessing. For though the reason or the wisdom of the world, think of the cross according to their reach, and according to their present sense, and therefore they sly from it, as from the greatest ignominy and shame; yet those who have been brought up in the school of Christ have learned to think otherwise of his cross, that it is the frame house in which God frameth his children like to his Son Christ; the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that fineth God's gold; the highway to heaven; the livery wherewith God's servants are served; the earnest and beginning of all consolation and glory. For they (I mean God's scholars, as your lordship, I hope, is) do en|ter into God's sanctuary, lest their feet slip. They look not as beasts do, on things present only, but on things to come, whereby they have the day of judgment, and the glorious coming of Christ, as present to their faith, as the wicked have now their worldly wealth before their eyes, wherein they wallow, and will wallow till they tumble into hell, into miseries inexpressible, into torments ever|lasting.

Now they follow the fiend as the bear doth the train of honey, and the sow the swillings, till they be brought into the slaughter house, and then they shall know (but too late) that their prosperity hath brought them to eternal perdition. Then shall they cry, Wo, wo, wo, we went the wrong way: we counted these men (I mean such as you be, that suffer for God's sake, loss of goods, friends, and life, whom they shall see clothed with rich robes of righteousness, crowns of most pure and precious gold, and palms of conquest) in the glorious palace of the Lamb, where is eternal joy and felicity. We counted (they will then say) these men but fools and madmen, we took their conditions to be but curiosity. But then the time will be turned, laughing shall be turned into weeping, and weep|ing into rejoicing. Read Wisdom ii.iii.iv. and v.

THEREFORE (as before I have said) great cause have I to thank God, who hath vouchsafed to make you worthy of this most bountiful blessing: much more then have you, my good lord, to be thankful. For look upon your voca|tion, I pray you, tell me how many noblemen, earls sons, lords, knights, and men of esteem, hath God thus dealt with in this realm of England? I dare say, you think not you have deserved this. Only God's mercy in Christ hath wrought this on you, as he did in Jeremiah's time on Abi|melech, in Achab's time on Abdias, in Christ's time on Joseph of Arimathea, in the Apostles time on Sergius Paulus, and the queen of Candace's chamberlain. Only now be thankful, and continue, continue, my good lord, continue to confess Christ. Be not ashamed of him before men, and then he will not be ashamed of you. Now will he try you; stick fast unto him, and he will stick fast by you; he will be with you in trouble, and deliver you. But then you must cry unto him; for so it proceedeth, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 cried unto me, and I heard him, I will be with him 〈…〉〈…〉, I will deliver him, and honour him."

REMEMBER Lot's wife, who looked back. Remem|ber Francis Spi••a. Remember none is crowned but he that striveth lawfully. Remember that all you have is at Christ's command. Remember he lost more for you, than you can lose for him. Remember you lose not that which is lost for his sake; for you shall find much more here and hereafter. Remember you shall die, and when, where, and how, you cannot tell. Remember that the death of sinners is most terrible. Remember the death of God••s saints is most precious in his sight. Remember the multi|tude goeth the wide way that leadeth to destruction. Re|member that the strait gate, which leadeth to glory, hath but few travellers. Remember, Christ biddeth you to strive to enter in thereat. Remember, he that trusteth in the Lord, shall receive strength to stand against all the assaults of his enemies. Be certain that all the hairs of your head be numbered. Be certain that your good Father hath appointed bounds, over which the devil dare not look. Commit yourself to him; he is, hath been, and will be your keeper. Cast your care on him, and he will care for you. Let Christ be your scope and mark to aim at: let him be your pattern to work by: let him be your ensample to follow: give unto him your heart and hand, mind and tongue, faith and feet, and let his word be your candle, to go before you in all matters of religion. Blessed is he that walketh not to these popish prayers, nor fitteth nor standeth at them; glorify God both in soul and body. He that gathereth not with Christ, scattereth abroad. Use prayer; look for God's help, which is at hand assuredly to them that unfeignedly ask and desire it. In which prayers I heartily desire your lordship to remember us, who are (God be praised) gladly going with you; but if we go be|fore you, we hope that you (if it be God's pleasure) will follow after, according to your daily prayer, "Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven." The good Spirit of God always guide your lordship unto the end, Amen.

Your lordship's own for ever, JOHN BRADFORD.

LETTER XIII. To Mr. WARCUP and his WIFE, Mrs. WILKINSON, and other FRIENDS.

THE same peace our Saviour Christ left with his peo|ple, which is not without war with the world, Al|mighty God work plentifully in your hearts now and for ever. Amen.

I perceive the time is come wherein the Lord's ground will be known; I mean, it will now shortly appear who have received God's gospel into their hearts indeed, to the ••aking of good root therein: for such will not wither for a little heat or sun burning, but stiffly will stand and grow on, in spite of the malice of all burning showers and tem|pests. And forasmuch as (my beloved in the Lord) I am persuaded of you, that ye be indeed the children of God, God's good ground, which groweth and will grow on, by God's grace, bringing forth fruit to God's glory after your vocations, as occasions shall be offered, therefore I cannot but so signify unto you, and heartily pray you and every one of you, accordingly to go forwards after your master Christ, not sticking at the foul way and stormy weather which you are to come into, and are like so to do: being most certain of this, that the end of your journey shall be pleasant and joyful in such a perpetual rest and blissfulness, as cannot but swallow up the showers that ye now feel and are immerged in, if ye often set it before your eyes, after St. Paul's counsel in the latter end of the fourth, and beginning of the fifth chapter of the second epistle to the Corinthians. Read it, I pray you, and remember it often as a restorative to refresh you, lest you faint in the way.

AND besides this, set before you also, that though the

weather be foul, and storms grow apace, yet ye go not alone, but others your brothers and sisters tread the same path, as St. Peter telleth us: and therefore company should cause you to be the more courageous and chearful. But if you had no company at all to go presently with you, I pray you tell me, if even from the beginning, the best of God's friends have found any fairer weather and way to the place whither ye are going, (I mean heaven) than ye now find, and are like to; except ye will with the worldlings, which have their portion in this life, tarry still by the way till the storms are overpast, and then either night will so approach that ye cannot travel, or the doors will be locked before you come, and so you lodge without in evil lodgings. Read Revelations xxii. Begin at Abel, and come from him to Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, the Patriarchs, Moses, David, Daniel, and all the saints of the Old Tes|tament, and tell me whether any of them ever found any fairer way than ye now find.

IF the Old Testament will not serve, I pray you come to the New, and begin with Mary and Joseph, and come from them to Zachary and Elizabeth, John Baptist, and every one of the apostles and evangelists, and search whe|ther they all found any other way into the city we travel to|wards, than by many tribulations.

BESIDES these, if ye should call to remembrance the primitive church, Lord God, ye should see so many to have given chearfully their bodies to most grievous torments, rather than they would be stopped in their journey, that there is no day in the year, but (I dare say) a thousand was the fewest that with great joy lost their homes here, but in the city they went unto, have found other manner of home than man's mind is able to conceive. But if none of these were, if ye had no company now to go with you, as you have me your poor brother and bondman of the Lord, with many others, I trust in God, if you had none of the fa|thers, patriarchs, kings, prophets, apostles, evangelists, martyrs, and other holy saints and children of God, that in their journey to heaven-ward found as ye now find, and are like to find if ye go forward, as I trust ye will, yet ye have your master and captain Jesus Christ, the only be|gotten and beloved Son of God, in whom was all the Fa|ther's pleasure, joy, and delight; ye have him to go before you, no fairer way, but much fouler, into this our city of Jerusalem. I need not (I trust) rehearse what manner of way he found. Begin at his birth, and till ye come to his burial, ye will find that every foot of his journey was no better, but much worse than your's is now.

WHEREFORE (my dearly beloved in the Lord) be not so dainty, as to look for that at God's hands, your dear Fa|ther, which the patriarchs, prophets, apostles, evangelists, martyrs, saints, and his own Son Jesus Christ did not find. Hitherto we have had a fair way (I think) and fair weather also: now because we have loitered by the way, and not made the speed we should have done, our loving Lord and sweet Father hath overcast the weather, and stirred up the storms and tempests, that we might with more haste run out our race before night come, and the doors be locked▪ The devil standeth now at every inn-door in his city and country of this world, crying unto us to tarry and lodge in this place or that place till the storms be overpast; not that he would not have us wet to the skin, but that the time might overpass us to our utter destruction. Therefore be|ware of his enticements. Cast not your eyes on things that be present, how this man doth, and how that man doth: but cast your eyes on the mark ye run at, or else ye will lose the game. Ye know that he which runneth at the mark, doth not look on others that stand by, and go this way or that way, but altogether he looketh on the mark, and on them that run with him, that those which be behind overtake him not, and that he may overtake them that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 before: even so should we do, leave off looking at 〈◊〉〈◊〉 which will not run the race to heaven's bliss by the path of persecution with us, and cast our eyes on the end of our race, and on them that go before us, that we may overtake them, and on them which come after us, that we may en|courage them the faster to follow.

HE that shooteth at a mark, will not cast his eyes on these that stand by, but will rather take care of his aim, other|wise, he might shoot the wrong way: even so, my dear•••• beloved, let your eye and your heart be fixed on the mark you aim at, even Christ Jesus, who for the joy set before him, did joyfully carry his cross, contemning the shame, and therefore he now fitteth at the right hand of the throne of God. Let us follow him; for this he did that we should not be faint-hearted: for we may be assured, that if we suffer with him, we shall undoubtedly reign with him: but if we deny him, he will surely deny us: for "He that is asham|ed of me, (saith Christ) and of my gospel, in this faithless generation, I will be ashamed of him before the angels of God in heaven." O how heavy a sentence is this to all such as know the mass to be an abominable idol, full of ido|latry, blasphemy, and sacrilege against God and his Christ, (as undoubtedly it is) and yet for fear of men, for loss of life and goods, yea, some for advantage and gain, will honour it with their presence, dissembling both with God and man, as their own heart and conscience doth accuse them. Bet|ter it were that such had never known the truth, than thus wittingly, and for fear and favour of man, whose breath is in his nostrils, to dissemble it, or rather (as indeed he doth) deny it. The end of such is like to be worse than their be|ginning. Such had need to take heed of the two terrible places to the Hebrews in the 6th and 10th chapters, left by so doing they fall therein. Let them beware they do not craftily beguile themselves, as some do I fear, who go to mass, and because they worship not, kneel not, or knock not as others do, but sit still in their pews, therefore they think they rather do good to others than hurt.

But, alas, if these men would look into their own con|sciences, there should they see that they are very dissemblers,

and in seeking to deceive others (for by this means the magistrates think them of their sort) they deceive them|selves. They think at the time of elevation, that the eyes of all men are fixed upon them, to observe how they do. They think others, hearing of such men going to mass, do see, or inquire of their behaviour there. O if there were in those men that are so present at the mass either love to God, or to their brethren, they would for the one, or both, openly take God's part, and admonish the people of their idolatry. They fear men more than Him who hath power to cast both soul and body into hell-fire: they hasten on both knees: they serve two masters. God have mercy upon such, and open their eyes with his eye-salve, that they may see that they who take no part with God are against him; and that they who gather not with Christ, do scatter abroad. O that they would read what St. John saith will be done to the fearful. The advice given to the church of Laodicea, is good counsel for such.

BUT to return to you again, (dearly beloved) be not ashamed of God's gospel: it is the power of God unto sal|vation to all those that do believe it. Be therefore parta|kers of the afflictions, as God shall make you able, know|ing for certain that he will never tempt you farther than he will make you able to bear: and think it no small favour from God to suffer for his truth: for the Spirit of God resteth upon you, and ye are happy; as one day ye shall see. Read 2 Thessal. i. Heb. xii. As the fire hurteth not gold, but maketh it finer, so shall ye be more pure by suffering with Christ, 1 Pet. i. The flail and the wind hurteth not wheat, but cleanseth it from the chaff. And ye (my be|loved) are God's wheat; fear not therefore the flail: fear not the fanning wind; fear not the mill-stone; fear not the oven: for all these make you more meet for the Lord's own tooth. Soap, tho' it blacken, yet it soileth not the cloth, but rather at length maketh it more clean: so doth the black cross help us to more whiteness, if God strike with his battledore. Because ye are God's sheep, prepare yourselves to the slaughter, always knowing that in the sight of the Lord our death shall be precious. The souls under the altar look for us to fill up their number: happy are we, if God hath so appointed us. Howsoever it be, dearly be|loved, cast your eyes wholly upon the Lord, with whom all the hairs of your heads are numbered, so that not one of them shall perish. Will we, nill we, we must drink God's cup, if he hath appointed it for us. Drink it willingly, and at the first when it is full, lest peradventure, if we linger, we shall, with the wicked, drink the dregs thereof, if at the beginning we refuse to drink with his children: for with them his judgment beginneth, and when he hath wrought his will on mount Sion, then will he visit the nations round about.

SUBMIT yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of the Lord. No man shall touch you without his knowledge; and whenever they molest you, know that it is for your good. God will thereby work to make you like unto Christ here, that ye may be like unto him hereafter. Ac|knowledge your unthankfulness and your sin, and bless God that correcteth you in the world, because you shall not be damned with the world. Call upon his name through Christ, for his help, as he commandeth us. Believe that he is merciful to you, heareth you, and helpeth you: I am with him in trouble, and will deliver him, saith he. Know that God hath appointed bounds, over which the devil and all the world shall not pass. If all things seem to be against us, let us say with holy Job, "If he kill me, I will trust in him." Read the ninety-first psalm, and pray for me your poor brother and fellow-sufferer for God's gospel's sake; his name therefore be praised; and may he through his in|finite mercy and goodness make me and you worthy to suffer with good conscience for the same. Die once we must, and when we know not: happy are they to whom God giveth to pay nature's debt, I mean, to die for his sake.

HERE is not our home; therefore let us accordingly consider things, always having before our eyes the heaven|ly Jerusalem, Heb. xii. Rev. xxi.xxii. the way thither to be by persecution; the dear friends of God, how they have gone it after the example of our Saviour Jesus Christ, whose footsteps let us follow, even to the gallows, if it please God, not doubting but that as he within three days rose again immortal, even so we shall do in our time, that is, when the trump shall blow, and the angel shall shout, and the Son of man shall appear in the clouds with innumera|ble saints and angels, in majesty and great glory: then shall the dead arise, and we shall be caught up into the clouds to meet the Lord, and so be always with him. Comfort your|selves with these words, and pray for me for God's sake. Out of prison, Nov. 19, 1553.

JOHN BRADFORD.

LETTER XIV. From Mr. BRADFORD to Sir JAMES HALES, Knight, then Prisoner in the Compter.

THE God of mercy, and Father of all comfort, plenti|fully pour out upon you and in you his mercy, and with his consolations comfort and strengthen you to the end, for his and our Christ's sake.

ALTHOUGH, right worshipful sir, many causes might move me to be content with crying for you to your God and my God, that he would give you grace to persevere well, as he hath right notably begun, to the great glory of his name, and comfort of all such as fear him; as lack of learning, familiarity, yea, acquaintance, (for I think I am unknown to you both by face and name) and other such like things; yet I cannot content myself, but presume to

scribble something unto you; not that I think my scribbling can do you any good, but that I might declare my sympa|thy and compassion, love and affection I bear towards you, who are contented, yea, desirous with us poor sinners, to confess Christ's gospel in these perillous times and days of trial. O Lord God, how good art thou, which dost thus glean our grapes, I mean children for thyself, and brethren for Christ? Look, good master Hales, on your vocation; not many judges, not many knights, not many landed men, not many rich men, and wealthy to live as you are, hath God chosen to suffer for his sake, as he hath now done you. Certainly I dare say, you think not so of yourself, as though God were bound to prefer you, or had need of you, but rather attribute this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 all good things unto his free mercy in Christ. Again, I dare say that you being a wise man do judge of things wisely, that is, concerning this your cross, you judge of it not after the world and people, which is the great master of error, nor after the judgment of reason and worldly wisdom, which is foolishness to faith, nor after the present sense, to which it seemeth not to be joyous but grie|vous, as St. Paul writeth: but after the word of God, which teacheth your cross to be, in respect of yourself be|tween God and you, God's chastising, and your Father's correction, nurture, school, trial, pathway to heaven, glory, and felicity, and the furnace to consume the dross, and mor|tify the relics of old Adam which yet remain, yea even the frame-house to fashion you like to the dearest saints of God here, yea to Christ the Son of God, that elsewhere you might be like unto him.

NOW concerning your cross in respect of the world, be|tween the world and you, God's word teacheth it to be a testimonial of God's truth, of his providence, of his power, of his justice, of his wisdom, of his anger against sin, of his goodness, of his judgment, of your 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and religion, so that by it you are to the world a witness of God, that he is true, he ruleth all things, he is just, wise, and at length will judge the world, and cast the wicked into perdition, but the godly he will take and receive into his eternal habitation. I know you judge of things after faith's fetch, and the ef|fects or ends of things, and so you see an eternal weight of glory which this cross shall bring unto you, while you look not on things which are seen, but on the things which are not not seen. Let the worldlings weigh things, and look upon the affairs of men with their worldly and corporal eyes, as many did in the subscription of the king's last will; and therefore they did that, for which they afterwards re|pented. But let us look on things after another manner, as God be praised you did, in not doing that which you were desired; you then beheld things not as a man, but as a man of God, and so you do now in religion, at least hi|therto you have done, and that you might do still, I humbly beseech and pray you say with David, "Mine eyes fail for thy word, saying, when wilt thou comfort me? Though you be like a bottle in the smoke, (for I hear you want health) yet do not forget the statutes of the Lord: but cry out, How many are the days of thy servant? When 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thou execute judgment on them that persecute me?" And be certain, "The Lord will surely come, and not 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ though he tarry, wait for him: for he is but a while in his anger, but in his favour is life: weeping may abide at evening, but joy cometh in the morning." Follow ther••|fore Isaiah's counsel, Hide thyself for a very little while ••••|til his indignation pass over, which is not indignation in|deed, but to our sense: and therefore in the six and twentieth chapter of Isaiah, God saith of his church and people, that as he keepeth night and day; so there is no anger in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 saith he.

THE mother sometimes beateth the child, but y•••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 heart melteth upon it, even in the very beating: and there|fore she casteth the rod into the fire, and calleth the chi••••▪ giveth it an apple, and dandleth it most motherly. And to say the truth, the love of mothers to their children, is 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a trace to train us to behold the love of God towards 〈◊〉〈◊〉: and therefore, saith he, Can a mother forget the child of her womb? As much as to say, No: but if she should 〈◊〉〈◊〉 do, yet will I not forget thee, saith the Lord of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Ah comfortable saying! I will not forget thee, saith the Lord. Indeed the children of God think oftentimes that God hath forgotten them, and therefore they cry, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not thy face from me, &c. Forsake me not, O Lord. Whereas in very truth it is not so, but only in their p••••|sent sense: and therefore, saith David, I said in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 agony, I was clean cast away from thy face. But was it so? No verily. Read his psalms, and you shall see. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he writeth also in other places very often, especially in the person of Christ: as when he saith, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? He saith not, why dost th•••• forsake me? or why wilt thou forsake me? but, why 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thou forsaken me? whereas, indeed, God had not left him, but that it was so to his sense, and that this psalm telleth as full well, which I pray you sometimes to read; it is the twenty second psalm, and thereto join the thirtieth, and the hundred and s••••••c••nth, with divers others. Much the same we read in the fortieth chapter of the prophet I 〈◊〉〈◊〉, where he reproveth Israel for saying, God hath forgot•••••• them, in these words, "Hast thou not known? hast thou not heard? &c. They that trust in the Lord shall renew their strength." In his fifty fourth chapter read the following comfortable words; "Fear not, for a little while I have forsaken thee, but with great compassion will I gather 〈◊〉〈◊〉 For a moment in mine anger I hid my face from thee, for a little season but in everlasting mercy have I had com|passion on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer. For this is unto me as the waters of Noah: for as I have sworn that the waters of Noah should no more go over the earth, so have I sworn that I would not be angry with thee nor rebuke the••. For the mountains shall move, and the hills shall fall down, but my mercy shall not depart from thee, n••it•••••• shall the covenant of my peace fall away, saith the Lord that hath compassion on thee."

BUT the scriptures are full of such sweet places to them that will bear the wrath of the Lord, and wait for his health and help. As of all temptations, this is the great|est, that God hath forgotten, or will not help us through the pikes, as they say; so of all the service of God, nothing is more pleasing to him, than assuredly to hope and trust in him whose help is always ready; for he is an helper in tribulations, and doth more gloriously shew his power by such as be weak, and feel themselves so. The weaker we are, the more strong we are in him. Thus the eyes of the Lord are on them that fear and tremble. He will accom|plish their desire; he is with them in their trouble; he will deliver them. Before they cry, he heareth them, as all the scriptures teach us. To the reading whereof, and hearty prayer, I heartily commend you, beseeching almigh|ty God, that of his eternal mercy he would make perfect the good he hath begun in you, and strengthen you to the end, that you might have no less hope, but much more of his help to your comfort now against your enemies, than already he hath given you against N. for not subscribing to the king's will.

BE certain, be certain, good master Hales, that all the hairs of your head, your dear Father hath numbered, so that not one of them shall perish: your name is written in the book of life. Therefore cast all your care upon God, who will comfort you with his eternal consolations, and make you able to go through the fire, (if need be) which is nothing to be compared to the fire wherein our enemies shall fall and lie for ever; from which the Lord deliver us, though it be through temporal fire, which must be construed according to the end and profit that cometh after it; it shall not then much terrify us to suffer for Christ our master's cause, which the Lord grant us for his mercy's sake, Amen.

From the King's Bench, Your humble, JOHN BRADFORD.

LETTER XV. From Mr. BRADFORD, to Dr. HILL, Physician.

THE God of mercy and Father of all comfort at this present and for ever ingraft in your heart the sense of his mercy in Christ, and the continuance of his consola|tion, which cannot but enable you to carry with joy whatsoever cross he shall lay upon you, Amen.

HITHERTO I could not have the liberty to write to you, as I suppose you know: but now through God's providence I have no such restraint, and therefore I shall write something to clear myself of the suspicion of un|thankfulness towards you in these dangerous days, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 you should wax cold in God's cause, (which God forbid) or suffer the light of the Lord, once kindled in your heart, to be quenched, and so become as you were before, after the example of the world, and of many others who would have been counted otherwise in our days, and still would be so accounted, although by their outward life they declare the contrary, as if they could keep the heart pure, while the outward man doth curry favour.

IN which doings, as they deny God to be jealous, and therefore requireth the whole man as well body as soul, being both created for immortality and society with him, and redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ, and now sanctified by the Holy Spirit to be the temple of God, and member of his Son, (I say) by their parting stakes to give God the heart and the world the body, they deny God to be jealous, (for else they would give him both, as the wife would do her husband, whether he be jealous or no if she be honest) so they play the dissemblers with the church of God by their fact, offending the godly, whom either they provoke to fall with them, or make them more care|less and conscienceless if they be fallen, and occasioning the wicked and obstinate to triumph against God, and the more vehemently to prosecute their malice against such as will not defile themselves in body or soul with the Romish rags now received amongst us. Because of this, I mean, left you, my dear master and brother in the Lord, should do as too many of our gospellers have done for fear of man, whose breath is in his nostrils, and hath power but of the body, not fearing the Lord, who hath power both of soul and body, not only temporally, but also eternally: I could not but write something unto you, as well because grati|tude requireth it, (for the many favours I have received of God by your hands, for which may he reward you, for I cannot) as also because charity and love compelleth; not that I think you have need, (for as I may rather learn of you, so I doubt not but you have hitherto kept yourself upright from halting) but that I might both quiet my con|science, calling upon me hereabout, and signify unto you by something, my carefulness for your soul, as painfully and often you have done for my body.

THEREFORE I pray you call to mind, that there are but two masters, two kinds of people, two ways, and two mansion places. The masters are Christ and Satan, the people are servitors to either of these, the ways are strait and wide, the mansions are heaven and hell. Again, consider that this world is the place of trial of God's peo|ple, and the devil's servants: for as the one will 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his master whatsoever cometh of it, so will the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 For a time it is hard to discern who pertaineth to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and who to the devil: as in the calm and peace who is the good sailor and warrior, and who is not. But as when the storm ariseth, the expert mariner is known, and as in war the g••••d soldier is seen, so in affliction and the cross, God's children are easily known from Satan's servants; for then as the good servant will follow his master, so will the godly follow their captain, come what will; whereas the wicked and hypocrites will bid adieu, and desire the less of Christ's acquaintance. For which cause the cross

is called a prob••tion and trial, because it tries who will go with God, and who will forsake him. And now in En|gland we see how small a company Christ hath, in compa|rison of Satan's soldiers. Let no man deceive himself: for he that gathereth not with Christ, scattereth abroad. No man can serve two masters; the Lord abhorreth double hearts, the lukewarm, that is, such as are both hot and cold, he speweth out of his mouth. None that halt on both knees doth God take for his servants. The way of Christ is the strait way, and so strait, that as few find it, and few walk in it, so no man can halt in it but must needs go upright: for as the straitness will suffer no reeling to this side or that side, so that if any halt, he is like to fall off the bridge into the pit of eternal perdition.

STRIVE therefore, good Mr. Doctor, now you have found it, to enter into it: and if you shall be called or pulled back, look not on this side, or behind you, as Lot's wife did; but strait forwards is the end which is set before you, (though it be to come) as even now present: like as you order your patients to do in purgations, and other your ministrations, to consider the effect that will ensue; whereby the bitterness and loathsomeness of the purgation is so overcome, and the painfulness in abiding the work|ing of what is ministered, is so eased, that it maketh the patient willingly and joyfully to receive whatsoever is to be received, be it ever so unpleasant: so I say, set before you the end of this strait way, and then doubtless, as St. Paul saith, It shall bring with it an eternal weight of glory, whilst we look not on the thing which is not seen, for that is temporal, but on the thing which is not seen, which is eternal. So doth the husbandman in plowing and tilling set before him the harvest-time; so doth the fisher consider the draught of his net, rather than the casting in; so doth the merchant the return of his merchandize; and so should we in these stormy days set before us not the loss of our goods, liberty, and very life; but the reaping time, the coming of our Saviour Christ to judgment, the fire that shall burn the wicked and disobedient to God's gospel, the blast of the trump, the exceeding glory prepared for us in heaven eternally, such as the eye hath not seen, the ear hath not heard, nor the heart of man can conceive. The more we lose here, the greater joy we shall have there. The more we suffer, the greater triumph. For corrupt|ible dross we shall find incorruptible treasures; for gold, glory; for silver, joy without end; for riches royal robes; for earthly houses, eternal palaces: mirth without measure, pleasure without pain, and endless felicity. In fine, we shall have God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.

O happy place! O that this day would come? Then shall the end of the wicked be lamentable; then shall they receive the just reward of God's vengeance; then shall they cry, Wo, wo, that ever they did as they have done. Read Wisd. i.ii.iii.iv.v. Read Matt. xxxv. Read 1 Cor. xv. 2 Cor. v. And by faith, (which God increase in us) consider the things there set forth. And for your further comfort, read Hebrews xi. to see what faith hath done, always considering the way to heaven to be through many tribulations, and that all they who live godly in Christ Jesus, must suffer persecution. You know this is your alphabet; He that will be my disciple, (saith Christ) must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow me: not this bishop, nor that doctor, not this emperor, nor that king but me, saith Christ: for he that loveth father, mother, wife children, or even life, better than me, is not worthy of me. Remember that the same Lord saith; He that will save his life shall lose it. Comfort yourself with this, that as the devils had no power over the swine, or over Job's goods without God's leave, so shall they have none over you. Remember also, that all the hairs of your head are numbered with God. The devil may make a man believe that he will drown him, as the sea in its surges threateneth the land: but as the Lord hath appointed bounds for the one, over which it cannot pass, so he doth for the other.

ON God therefore cast your care, love him, serve hi•• after his word, fear him, trust in him, hope at his hand for all help, and always pray, looking for the cross; and when|soever it cometh, be assured, that the Lord, as he is faithf••l, so he will never tempt you further than he will make you able to bear, but in the midst of the temptation will make such a deliverance as will be most for his glory and your eternal comfort. God for his mercy in Christ, with his Holy Spirit endue and comfort you, under the wings of his mercy shadow you, and as his dear child guide you for ever|more. To whose merciful tuition, as I do with my hearty prayers commit you; so I doubt not but you pray for me, and so I beseech you still to do. My brother P. telleth me, you would have the last part of St. Jerome's works, to have the use thereof for a fortnight. I cannot well spare th•••• these three days, but on Thursday next I will send them to you, if God preventeth me not. Use me and all that I have as your own. The Lord of his mercy in Christ direct our ways to his glory.

Out of prison, by your's to command, JOHN BRADFORD.

LETTER XVI. To Mrs. M. H. a pious GENTLEWOMAN.

I Humbly and heartily pray the everlasting God and Fa|ther of mercy to bless and keep your heart and mind in the knowledge and love of his truth, and of his Christ, through the inspiration and working of his Holy Spirit. Amen.

ALTHOUGH I have no doubt but that you prosper and go forward daily in the way of godliness, more and more draw|ing towards perfection, and have no need of any thing that

I can write; yet because my desire is, that you might be more fervent and persevere to the end, I could not but write something unto you, beseeching you both often and dili|gently to call unto your mind, as a means to stir you here|unto, yea, as a thing which God most straitly requireth you to believe, that you are beloved of God, and that he is your dear Father, in, through, and for Christ and his death's sake. This love and tender kindness of God towards us in Christ is abundantly herein declared, in that he hath to the godly work of creation of this world made us after his image, redeemed us being lost, called us into his church, sealed us with his mark sign manuel of baptism, kept and preserved us all the days of our life, fed, nourished, and most fatherly chastised us, and now hath kindled in our hearts the sparkles of his fear, faith, love, and knowledge of his Christ and truth, and therefore we lament, because we bewail no more our unthankfulness, our frailty, our diffi|dence and wavering in things, wherein we should be most certain.

ALL these things we should use as means to confirm our faith of this, that God is our God and Father, and to assure us, that he loveth us as our Father in Christ; to this end, (I say) we should use the things before touched, especially in that, of all things, God requireth this faith and fatherly persua|sion of his fatherly goodness, as his chief service. For be|fore he asketh any thing of us, he saith, I am the Lord thy God, giving himself and all that he hath to us, to be our own. And this he doth in respect of himself, of his own mercy and truth, and not in respect of us, for then were grace no grace. In consideration whereof, when he saith; Thou shalt have no other gods but me; Thou shalt love me with all thy heart, &c. though of duty we ought to ac|complish all that he requireth, and are culpable and guilty if we do it not, yet he requireth not these things further of us than to make us more in love, and more certain of this his covenant, that he is our Lord and God. In certainty whereof, as he hath given us this whole world to answer our necessities and conveniencies, so hath he given us his Son Christ Jesus, and in Christ, himself to be a pledge, whereof the Holy Ghost doth now and then give us some comfortable taste and sweet smell to our eternal joy.

THEREFORE, as I said, because God is our Father in Christ, and requireth of you stedfastly to believe it, give yourself to obedience, although you do it not with such feel|ing and readiness as you desire. Faith must first go before, and then, by the operation of love, zeal••us affections will follow. If our imperfections, frailty, and many evils should be the occasions whereby Satan would have us to doubt; let us abhor that suggestion as much as possible, as of all others the most pernicious; and indeed so it is. For when we stand in doubt whether God be our Father, we cannot be thankful to him, we cannot heartily pray, or think any thing we do acceptable to him: we cannot even love our neighbours as we ought to do; and therefore Satan is very subtle, for he well knoweth that if we doubt of God's eter|nal mercy towards us, through Christ, we can neither please God, nor rightly do our duty to man. He continually casteth into our thoughts our imperfection, frailty, falls, and miscarriages, to make us despair of God's mercy and favour.

THEREFORE, my good sister, we must not be sluggish herein, but as Satan laboureth to weaken our faith, so must we endeavour to strengthen it by meditating upon the pro|mises and covenant of God in Christ's blood; namely, that God is our God with all that ever he hath: which covenant entirely dependeth on God's own goodness, mer|cy, and truth, and not on our obedience or worthiness in any point; for then we should never be certain. Indeed God requireth of us obedience and worthiness, but not that thereby we may be his children, and he our Father: but because he is our father, and we his children through his goodness in Christ, therefore he requireth faith and obedience. Now if we want this obedience and worthi|ness which he requireth, shall we doubt whether he be our Father? Nay, that were to make our obedience and wor|thiness the cause, and so to put Christ out of place, for whose sake God is our Father. But rather because he is our Father, we ought to be moved with shame and remorse for not being as we ought to be: and thereupon we should take occasion to go to our Father in prayer on this manner:

"DEAR Father, thou of thine own mercy in Jesus Christ hast chosen me to be thy child, and therefore thou wouldst that I should be brought into thy church, and faith|ful company of thy children, wherein thou hast hitherto kept me, thy name therefore be praised. Now I see my|self to want faith, hope, love, &c. which thy children have, and thou requirest of me, for the want of which the devil would have me to doubt, yea, utterly to despair of thy fatherly goodness, favour, and mercy. Therefore I come to thee as to my merciful Father, through thy dear Son Jesus Christ, and pray thee to help me, good Lord: help me, and give me faith, hope, love, &c. and grant that thy Holy Spirit may be with me for ever, and more and more assure me that thou art my Father; that this merciful co|venant that thou madest with me in respect of thy grace in Christ and for Christ, and not in respect of any of my worthiness, is always to me," &c.

ON this manner you ought to pray when Satan per|suadeth you to doubt of salvation. He doth all he can to prevail against you. Though you are not so feelingly af|fected as you desire to be, yet doubt not, but hope beyond all hope, as Abraham did: for, as I said before, faith al|ways goeth before love. As certain as God is almighty, as certain as God is merciful, as certain as God is true, as certain as Jesus Christ was crucified, is risen, and sitteth on the right hand of the Father, as certain as this is God's commandment: "I am the Lord thy God," &c. so cer|tain ought you to believe that God is your Father. As

you are bound to have no other gods but him, so are you no less bound to believe that God is your God. What profit would it be to you to believe this sentence, "I am the Lord thy God," to be true to others, if you will not believe it to be true to yourself? The devil believeth in this manner. And whatsoever it be that would move you no doubt whether God be your God through Christ, the same undoubtedly cometh of the devil. Wherefore did God make you, but because he loved you? Might be not have made you blind, deaf, lame, lunatic, &c. Might be not have made you a Jew, a Turk, a Papist, &c.? And why hath be not done so▪ Verily because he loved you? And why did he love you? what was there in you to move him to love you? Surely nothing moved him to love you, neither to create you, nor hitherto to preserve you, but his own goodness in Christ. Now then in that his goodness in Christ still remaineth as much as it was, that is, even as great as himself, for it cannot be lessened; how should it be but that he is your God and Father? Believe this, believe this, my good sister, for God is unchangeable; them whom he loveth, he loveth to the end.

THEREFORE c••st yourself wholly upon him, and think without all wavering that you are God's child, that you are a citizen of heaven, that you are a child of God and the temple of the Holy Ghost. If you be assured hereof, as you ought to be, then shall your conscience be quitted, then shall you lament more and more for the want of many things which God loveth; then shall you labour to be holy in soul and body; then shall you desire and endeavour to make God's glory shine in all your words and works: then shall you not be afraid what man can do unto you; then shall you have the wisdom to answer your adversaries, as shall serve to their shame and your comfort: then shall you be certain that no man can t••uch one hair of your head, further than it shall please your good Father, to your everlasting joy; then shall you be most certain that God as your good Fa|ther will be more careful for your children, and make better provision for them, if all you have were gone, than you can with the peaceable enjoyment of it. Being assured, I say, of God's favour towards you, give yourself over to help and care for others that be in need; then shall you contemn this life, and desire to be at home with your good and sweet Father; then shall you labour to mortify all things that would spot either soul or body. All these things spring out of this certain persuasion and faith, that God is our Fa|ther, and we are his children by Christ Jesus. All things should help our faith herein, but Satan goeth about to hin|der it.

THEREFORE let us use earnest and hearty prayer; let us often remember this covenant, "I am the Lord thy God;" let us look upon Christ and his precious blood shed for the confirmation of his covenant; let us set before us God's benefits generally in making this world, and in governing 〈◊〉〈◊〉 calling and keeping his church, &c. let us set before us God's benefits particularly, how he hath made his creatures after his image, our bodies in perfect form and beauty, and endowed our souls with understanding, memo|ry, and will: how he hath made us christians, and hath given us these faculties to enable us to make a right judg|ment of his religion; how he hath blessed, kept, nourished, and defended us ever since we were born; how he hath often chastised, and fatherly corrected us; how he hath spar|ed us, and now doth spare us, giving us time, place, and grace. If you do this, and use earnest prayer, and flee 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ all things which may wound your conscience, giving your|self to diligence in your vocation, you shall at 〈…〉〈…〉 (which God grant to us both) a sure certainty of salvation, without all such doubt as may trouble the peace of consci|ence, to your eternal joy and comfort, Amen.

Your's in Christ, JOHN BRADFORD.

HERE followeth another letter of Mr. Bradford's to the good lady Vane, wherein he resolveth certain questions which she demanded. This lady Vane was a great supporter of the pious martyrs who were imprisoned in queen Mary's time. Unto whom divers letters were wrote by Messrs. Philp••t, Careless, Trahern, Thomas Rose, and others, wherein they render unto her most grateful thanks for her exceeding goodness towards them, their singular commendation and testimony also of her christian zeal towards God afflicted prisoners, and to the truth of his gospel. She died anno 1568.

LETTER XVII. From Mr. BRADFORD to Lady VANE.

THE true sense and sweet ••••••ling of God's eternal mer|cies in Christ Jesus be ever more and more lively wrought in your heart by the Holy Ghost. Amen.

I most heartily thank you, good madam, for your com|fortable letter; and whereas you would be advertised what were best to be done on your three questions: the truth is, that the questions are never well seen, no•• answered, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the thing whereof they arise be well considered: I mean until it be seen how great an evil the thing is. If it be once indeed perceived in your heart, upon probable and pithy places gathered out of the word of God, that there was never any thing upon earth so great and so much 〈◊〉〈◊〉 adversary to God's true service, to Christ's death, passion, sacrifice, and kingdom, to the ministry of God's word and sacraments, to repentance, faith, and all true godliness of life, as that is whereof the questions arise, (as most assuredly it is indeed) then cannot a christian heart but so much the

more abhor it, and all things that in any point might seem to allow it, or any thing pertaining to the same, by how much it hath the name of God's service.

AGAIN, your ladyship doth know, that as all is to be discommended and avoided, which is followed or fled from in respect of ourselves, in respect of avoiding Christ's cross; so the end of all our doings should be to God-wards, to his glory, to our neighbours, to edification, and good example, where|of none can be given in allowing any of the three questions by you propounded. But because this which I write now is brief, and needed the more consideration or explication, as I doubt not of the one in you, so from me by God's grace you shall shortly receive the other: for I have al|ready written a little book of it, which I will send unto you, in which you shall have your questions fully answered and satisfied, and therefore I now omit writing any thing about it; beseeching God our good Father, to guide you as his dear child with his Spirit of wisdom, power, and comfort, unto eternal life, that you may be strong, and re|joice in him, and with his church; to carry the cross of Christ, if it be his will, 1 Pet. i. which is a thing to be de|sired and embraced, if we look on things after the judge|ment of God's word, and try them by that touch-stone.

IF you be accustomed to think on the brevity, vanity, and misery of this life, and on the eternity, truth, and feli|city of life everlasting; if you look on the end of things, and not on their present appearance only; if you accustom yourself to set God's, presence, power, mercy, always before your eyes, to see them, as God by every creature would we should; I doubt not but you shall find such strength and comfort in the Lord, as shall not be shaken with all the power of Satan. God's mercy in Christ be with you, and his good Spirit guide you for ever. Amen.

LETTER XVIII. From the Same to the Same.

AS to mine own soul, I wish to your ladyship grace and mercy from God our dear Father in Christ our Lord and Saviour.

I thank God that he hath something eased you, and mi|tigated his fatherly correction in us both; I would to God he had done so much in behalf of the grief of the body to you, as he hath done to me. For as for the soul, I trust you feel that which I pray God increase in you, I mean his fatherly love, and grant that I may with you feel the same in such degree as may please him; I will not say as you feel, lest I should seem to ask too much at one time. God doth often much more plentifully visit with the sense of his mercy them that humble themselves under his mighty hand, than others which to the face of the world have a greater shew and appearance.

THEREFORE I wish as I do, and that not only for mine own convenience, but also that I might occasion you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 consider the goodness of God, which I by your letters do well perceive: which is indeed the highway, whereby God increaseth his gifts, and sheweth his salvation more lively, Psal. l. cvii. I have received God's blessing from you▪ which I have partly distributed to my three fellow-prisoners, Mr. Farrar, Mr. Taylor, and Mr. Philpot, and the residue I will bestow upon four poor souls who are imprisoned in the common gaol for religion also. As for mine own part, if I had need, I would have served mine own turn also. But because I had not, nor (I thank God) have not, I have been, and will be, your almoner, in such a manner as I have already advertised you. God reward you in this world, and in the world to come. Because otherwise I cannot talk with you, therefore on this sort, as occasion and opportunity will serve, I am ready to shew my good will and desire of your help and furtherance in the Lord to everlasting life, whereunto God bring us shortly for his mercy's sake. Amen.

GOOD madam, be thankful to God, as I hope you be; be earnest in prayer, continue in reading and hearing God's word, and if God's further cross come, as therein God doth serve his providence, (for else it shall not come unto you) so be certain the same shall turn to your eternal joy and com|fort. Amen.

LETTER XIX. From Mr. BRADFORD to the Right Worshipful the Lady VANE.

THE good Spirit of God our Father be more and more plentifully perceived by your good ladyship, through the merits and mediation of our dear Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

ALTHOUGH your benefits towards me have deserved all the service I can do for you, yet (right worshipful, and dear|ly beloved in the Lord) the true fear of God, and the love of his truth, which I perceive to be in you, doth, in a more extraordinary manner, oblige me to respect you. This bearer hath told me that your desire is to have something sent to you concerning the usurped authority of the supre|macy of the bishop of Rome (who is undoubtedly that great Antichrist, of whom the apostles do so much admonish us.) Now, to strengthen your faith, as well as to furnish you with answers, (that you may at any time be capable to render a reason of the hope that is in you) I shall write something to the purpose, which I desire you would read and mark well.

THE papists do place the pope in pre-eminence over the whole church, thereby unplacing Christ, who is the only

head of the church, that giveth life to the whole body, and by his Spirit doth enliven every member of the same. This they do against all scriptures. For where they bring in this spoken to Peter, Feed my sheep; I would gladly know whether this was not commanded unto others also. As for that, which perchance they will urge, that he spake to Peter by name: I answer, that if they had any learning, they might easily perceive it was not for any such cause as they pretend, but rather by a threefold commandment to restore him to the honour of an apostle, which he had lost by his threefold denial. And how dare they interpret this word, My sheep, My lambs, to be the universal church of Christ? I think a man might easily by the like reason prove that Peter himself had resigned that which Christ had given to him, in exhort|ing his fellow-pastors to feed the flock of Christ. Is not this pretty stuff? Because Christ saith to Peter, Feed my sheep, therefore he ought to rule the universal and whole church of Christ? If Peter do truly write unto others that they should do the like, that is, feed Christ's flock, either he conferreth his right and authority committed to him upon them, or else he doth participate or communicate with them; so that foolishly they go about to establish that which hath no ground. Peter indeed was a shepherd of the sheep, but such a one as bestowed his labour on them so far, as he could stretch himself by his ministry. But the papists prate that he hath full power over all churches: wherein they may see St. Paul to disprove them, for else he hath done unjustly in denying him the superior place. Howbeit, who ever yet read that St. Peter ever took any thing upon him over churches committed to other men? Was not he sent by the church, and sent by one not having rule over the rest? I grant that he was an excellent instrument of God, and for the excellency of his gifts, whensoever they met together, place therefore was commonly given unto him. But what is this to the pur|pose, to make him head and ruler over all the whole church, because he was so over a small congregation.

BUT be it so, that Peter had as much given unto him as they do affirm: who yet will grant that Peter had a patrimony given for his heirs? He hath left (say the pa|pists) to his successors the self-same right which he re|ceived. O Lord God! then his successor must be a Satan: for Peter received that title from Christ himself. I would gladly have the papists to shew me one place of succession mentioned in the scriptures. I am sure that when Paul painteth out the whole administration of the church, he neither maketh one head, nor any inheritable primacy, and yet he is altogether in commendation of unity. After he hath made mention of one God the Father, of one Christ, of one Spirit, of one body of the church, of one faith, and of one baptism, then he describeth the means and the man|ner how unity is to be kept; namely, because unto every pastor grace is given after the measure wherewith Christ hath endued them. Where, I pray you, is now any title [plenitudinis p••testatis] of fulness of power? When he calleth home every one unto a certain measure why did he not forthwith say, One pope? which he could not have forgotten, if the thing had been as the papists make it.

BUT let us grant that perpetuity of the primacy in the church was established in Peter; I would gladly le••••••, why the seat of the primacy should be rather at Rome th•••• elsewhere. Marry, say they, because Peter's chair was at Rome. This is even like to this, that because Moses the greatest prophet, and Aaron the first priest, exercised their offices unto their death in the desart, therefore the principal place of the Jewish church should be in the wilderness. But grant them their reason that it is good; what should Antioch claim? For Peter's chair was there also, wherein Paul gave him a check, which was unsee••••••▪ and unmannerly done of Paul, that would not give place to his president and better.

NO, say the papists, Rome must have the authority because he died there. But what if a man should by pro|bable conjectures shew, that it is but a fable which is feigned of Peter's bishopric at Rome? Read how 〈◊〉〈◊〉 doth salute very many private persons, when he writeth to the Romans. Three years after he was brought prisoner to Rome. Luke telleth, that he was received of the bre|thren, and yet in all these is no mention at all of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, who then, by their stories, was at Rome. Belike he was proud, as the pope and his prelates be, or else he would have visited Paul. Paul while prisoner at Rome 〈◊〉〈◊〉 divers epistles, in which he expresseth the names of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 who were but mean persons in comparison of Peter, but ••f Peter he speaketh never a word. Surely if Peter had been there, this silence of him had been suspicious. In the second epistle to Timothy, Paul complaineth that no man was with him in his defence, but all had left him. If Peter had been then at Rome, as they write, then either Paul had belied him, or Peter played his Peter's part, Luke xx••••. In another place, how doth he blame all that were wi••h him, Timothy excepted? Therefore we may well doubt whether Peter was bishop at Rome as they prate: for all this time, and long before, they say that Peter was bishop there.

But I will not stir up coals in this matter. If Rome be the chief seat because Peter died there, why should not An|tioch be the second? Why should not James and John who were taken with Peter be as pillars? Why, I say, should not their seats have honour next to Peter's seat? Is it not preposterous, that Alexandria, where Mark (who was but one of the disciples) was bishop, should be preferred before Ephesus, where John the Evangelist taught and was bi|shop; and before Jerusalem, where not only James taught and died bishop, but also Christ Jesus our Lord and high priest for ever, by whom, being master, I hope honour should be given to his chair, more than to the chair of his chaplains.

I need to speak nothing how that Paul declareth Peter's

apostleship to concern rather the circumcision of the Jews, and therefore properly pertaineth not to us. Neither need I bring in Gregory the first bishop of Rome, which was about the year of our Lord 600, who in his works doth plainly write, that this title of Primacy, and to be head over all churches under Christ, ••s a title meet and agreeing only to Antichrist, and therefore he calleth it a profane, mischievous, and a horrible title. Whom should we be|lieve now, if we will neither believe apostle nor pope?

IF I should go about to tell how this name was first got|ten by Phocas, I should be too long. I purpose, God wil|ling, to set it forth at large in a work which I have begun of Antichrist, if God for his mercy's sake give me life to finish it. For this present therefore I shall desire your ladyship to take this in good part. If they will needs have the bishop of Rome to be acknowledged for head of the church, then will I urge them to give us a bishop. But they obtrude unto us a butcher, or a bite-sheep, rather than a bishop. They brag of Peter's succession, of Christ's vicar; this is always in their mou••h. But alas, how can we call him Christ's vicar, that resisteth Christ, rejecteth his truth, persecuteth his people, and preferreth himself above God and man? How or wherein doth the pope and Christ agree? How supplieth he Peter's ministry, that boasteth of his succession? Therefore, if the papists will have the bishop of Rome supreme head of the church of Christ on earth, they must, before they attain this, give us a bishop in deed, and not in name. For whosoever he be that will make this the bond of unity, whatsoever the bishop of Rome be, surely this must needs follow, that they do nothing else but teach a most wicked defection, and departing from Christ.

BUT of this, if God lend me life, I purpose to speak more at large hereafter. Now wi••l I leave your ladyship to the tuition of God our Father, and Christ our only head, pastor, and keeper, to whom see you cleave by true faith, which dependeth only on the word of God, which if you do follow as a lantern to your feet, and a light to your steps, you shall then avoid darkness, and the danger|ous deeps wherein the papists are fallen by the judgment of God, and seek to bring us into the same dungeon with them, that blind following the blind, they both may fall into the ditch: out of which God deliver them according to his good will, and preserve us for his name's sake, that we being in his light, may continue therein, and walk in it whilst it is day; so shall the night over-press us, we go|ing from light to light, from virtue to virtue, from faith to faith, from glory to glory, by the governance of God's good Spirit, which God our Father give unto us all for ever, Amen.

Your brother in bonds, for the testimony of Jesus Christ, JOHN BRADFORD.

HERE followeth another letter from Mr. Brad|ford to Mr. Richard Hopkins, sometime sheriff of Coventry; who during the time of his shrivalty, was accused by certain malignant adversaries of matters pertaining to religion. What matter it was I am not yet certainly informed, unless it were for sending to a thief, being then in prison ready to be hanged, a certain English book of scripture for his spiritual comfort.

WHEREUPON, or some such like matter, he being maliciously accused, was sent for and committed to the Fleet prison, where he remained a long time in great peril of his life. Notwithstanding the said Hopkins being at length delivered out of prison, following Mr. Bradford's counsel, and minding to keep his conscience pure from idolatry, was dri|ven with his wife, and eight young children to quit the realm, and went into High-Germany, where he continued in the city of Basil till the death of queen Mary, being like a good Tobias, to his power a friendly helper and a comfortable reliever of other English exiles there about him, God's pro|vidence so working with him, that in those far coun|tries he fell not into any decay, neither any of his houshold miscarried during his stay there, but as many as he brought out, so many he carried home again, yea, and that with advantage, and God's plenty withal upon him.

LETTER XX. From Mr. BRADFORD, to Mr. RICHARD HOPKINS, then Sheriff of COVENTRY, and Prisoner in the Fleet.

DEARLY beloved in the Lord, I wish unto you as unto mine own brother, yea, as to mine own heart, God's mercy, and to the feeling of the same plentifully in Christ our sweet Saviour, who gave himself a ransom for our sins, and price for redemption, praised be his holy name for ever and ever, Amen.

I will not go about to excuse myself for not sending un|to you hitherto, but rather accuse myself before God and you, desiring of you forgiveness, and with me to pray to God for pardon of this my unkind forgetting you, and all other my sins, which I beseech the Lord in his mercy to do away for Christ's sake, Amen.

NOW I would be glad to make some amends, if I

could; but because I cannot, I heartily desire you to accept the will for the deed. At present my dear heart, you are in a blessed state, although it seem otherwise to you, or ra|ther unto your old Adam, which I dare now to be so bold as to discern from you, because you would have him not only discerned, but also utterly destroyed. For if God be true, then is his word true.

NOW his word pronounceth of your state that it is happy, therefore it must needs be so. To prove this I think there is no need: for you know the Holy Ghost saith, "That they are happy who suffer for righteousness' sake, and that God's glory and Spirit resteth on them who suffer for conscience to God." You know that you suffer for the sake of God and religion; or else you might soon be out of trouble. You account yourself a great sinner, and so you think you deserve this punishment: but the papists do neither persecute your sins, but in you they persecute Christ, and punish you for professing his religion. Happy are you who have found such favour with God, as to be accounted worthy to suffer for his sake in the sight of man; you shall surely rejoice with a joy unspeakable in the sight of men and of angels.

YOU may think yourself born in a blessed time, that have found this grace with God, as a vessel of honour to suffer with his saints, yea, with his Son. The apostle faith, "Not many noble, not many rich, not many wise in the world, hath the Lord God chosen." Who then hath greater cause to rejoice than you, that amongst the Not many, he hath chosen you to be one? For that cause hath God placed you in your office, that thereby you might the more see his special favour and love towards you. It had not been so great a thing for Mr. Hopkins to have suffered as Mr. Hopkins, as it is for Mr. Hopkins also to suffer as Master Sheriff. O happy day, that you were put into this high office, by which, as God in this world would promote you to greater honour, so by suffering in his room he hath exalted you in heaven, and in the sight of his church and children, to a much more excellent glory. When was it read that the sheriff of a city hath suffered for the Lord's sake, or cast into prison for a good conscience? To the end of the world shall it be written for a memorial to your praise, "That RICHARD HOPKINS, sheriff of Coventry, for the conscientious discharge of his office before God, was cast into the Fleet, and there a long time kept pri|soner." Happy, thrice happy are you, if for the sake of religion you may give your life. Never could you have attained to this promotion in this manner, had you not been in that office. Who would ever have thought that you would have been the first magistrate that for Christ's sake should have lost any thing? As I said before, therefore I say again, that your state is happy.

BE thankful therefore, rejoice in your trouble, pray for patience, persevere to the end, let patience have her perfect work. If you want this wisdom and power, ask it of God, who will give it to you in his good time. Hope still in him, yea, if he should stay you, with Job trust in him, and you shall find him merciful and full of compassion; for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 never did, nor ever will break his promise. He is 〈◊〉〈◊〉 you in trouble, he heareth you calling upon him, yea, be|fore you call, through Christ he granteth your desire. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he now and then hide his face from you, it is to provoke you the more to long for him. This is most true, he i•• coming, and will come, he will not be long. But if for a time he seem to tarry, yet stand you still, and you shall see the wonderful works of the Lord. O my beloved, why should you be heavy? Is not Christ Emmanuel, God with us? Shall you not find that he is true in saying, "In the world you shall have trouble?" So is he in saying, "In me you shall have comfort." He doth not only foretel that trouble will come, but also promiseth that comfort shall en|sue. And such comfort that the eye hath not seen, the ear hath not heard, neither can the heart of man conceive. O great comfort! who shall have this? Verily they that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for the Lord, as I hope you do. Then, as I said, happy as you, my dearly beloved in the Lord. You now suffer wi•••• the Lord, surely you shall be glorified with him. Now we are both in the ready road to heaven: for by many afflic|tions we must enter in thither, whither God bring us for his mercy's sake. Amen.

Your fellow in affliction, JOHN BRADFORD.

IN the story of Mr Bradford there was mention made of a gentlewoman, who being troubled by her father and mother, for not coming to mass, sent her servant to visit Mr. Bradford in prison; who tendering the woful case of the gentlewoman, to the intent partly to confirm her with counsel, and partly to relieve her oppressed mind with some com|fort, directed unto her the following letter.

LETTER XXI. To a certain Gentlewoman, troubled and afflicted by h•••• Parents for not coming to Mass.

I Wish you, right worshipful, and dearly beloved sister in the Lord, as to myself, the continual grace and com|fort of Christ, and of his holy word, through the operation of the Holy Spirit, that you may continue to the end in the faithful obedience of God's gospel, whereunto you are cal|led. Amen.

I understand you are on your trial in the school-house of the Lord, which to me is a great comfort to see the number of God's elect by you increased, who are in that state whereof God hath not called many, as St. Paul

faith. May God of his infinite goodness finish and perfect the good he hath begun in you.

IF then your cross be to me a comfort, a token of elec|tion, and a confirmation of God's continual favour, how much more ought it to be so unto you? unto whom he hath not only given to believe, but also to come into the rank of those who suffer for his name's sake, and that not by common enemies, but even by your own parents and kindred, as you told me. By which I see Christ's words to be true, That he came to give his children such a peace with him, as the devil cannot abide, and therefore he stir|reth up father and mother, sister and brother, rather than it should continue. But my dear sister, if you cry with David to the Lord, and complain to him, that for con|science to him, your father and mother hath forsaken you, you shall hear him speak in your heart, that he hath receiv|ed you, and by this he would have you see, that he maketh you like unto Christ here, that in heaven you may per|fectly enjoy him. You ought to be most assured, that in time, when he shall appear, you shall be like unto him; for he shall make your vile body like unto his glorious and immortal body, according to the power whereby he is able to do all things. He will confess you before his Father; he will make you to reign with him, who now suffer for him, and with him; he will not leave you com|fortless, who seek no comfort but at his hand; though for a little time you be afflicted, yet therein will he comfort and strengthen you, and at length make you to be merry with him in such joy as is infinite and endless. He will wipe all the tears from your eyes; he will embrace you as your dear husband, he will, after he hath proved you, crown you with a crown of glory and immortality, such as the heart of man shall never be able to conceive in such sort as the thing is. He now beholdeth your stedfastness, and striving to do his good will; and shortly he will shew you how stedfast he is, and will be ready to do your will, after you have fully resigned it to his.

PLEDGE him in his cup of the cross, and you shall pledge him in the cup of his glory. Desire to drink it before it be come to the dregs, whereof the wicked shall drink, and all those that for fear of the cross and pledging the Lord, do walk with the wicked, in betraying in fact and deed that which their heart embraceth for truth. Which thing if you should do, (which God forbid) then you will not only lose forever all that I have before spoken, and much more infinitely of eternal joy and glory, but also be a cast-away, and partaker of God's most heavy displeasure for ever; and so for a little ease, which you cannot tell how long it will last, lose for ever all ease and comfort. For, "He that gathereth not with me, saith Christ, scattereth abroad." According to that we do in this body, we shall receive, be it good or bad. If of our words we shall be judged to condemnation or salvation, much more then of our acts and deeds. You cannot be a member of Christ's church, and a member of the pope's church. You must glorify God not only in soul and heart, but also in body and deed. God esteemeth his children not only of their hearts, but of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 pure hands and works, and therefore in Elias's time he accounted none to be his servants and people, but such as had not bowed their knees to Baal; as now he doth not in England account any other to be his servants, which know the truth in heart, and deny it in their deeds, as do our mass-gospellers.

WE ought to desire above all things the sanctifying of God's holy name, and the coming of his kingdom; and shall we then see his name blasphemed so horribly as it is at mass, by making it a sacrifice propitiatory, and setting forth a false Christ made by priests and bakers to be wor|shipped as God, and say nothing? The Jews rent their clothes asunder in seeing or hearing any thing blasphemously done or spoke against God, and shall we yet come to church where mass is, and be mute? Paul and Barnabas rent their clothes to see the people of Lycaonia come to offer sacrifice unto them, and shall we see sacrifice and God's service done unto an inanimate creature, and be silent? What thing help|eth more, or so much Antichrist's kingdom as the mass doth? And what destroyeth preaching and the kingdom of Christ upon earth more than it doth? And how can we then say, "Let thy kingdom come," and go to mass? How can we pray before God, "Thy will be done on earth," when we will do our own will, and the will of our father or friends? How pray we, "Deliver us from evil," which knowing the mass to be evil, do come to it?

BUT what need I go about to light a candle in the noon|day, that is, to tell you that we may not go to mass, or to the congregation where it is, except it be to reprove it, in that all men in so doing do but dissemble both with God and man? And is dissembling now to be allowed? "How long will men yet halt on both knees?" saith God. "Halt|ing, saith Paul, bringeth out of the way," that is to say, out of Christ, who is the way, so that he which is not in him, shall wither away, and be cast into hell-fire. For Christ will be ashamed of them before his Father, who are now ashamed of his truth before this wicked generation.

THEREFORE, my good mistress, take good heed, for it had been for you not to have known the truth, and thereby to have escaped from papistical uncleanness, than now to return to it, making your members, being members of righteousness, members of unrighteousness, as you do if you do but go to the church where mass is. Be pure there|fore, and keep yourself from all filth of the spirit, and of the flesh. Abstain not only from all evil, but from all appearance of evil.

AND so the God of peace shall be with you, and the glory of God shall govern you, the Spirit of God shall sanctify you, and be with you forever, to keep you from

all evil, and to comfort you in all distress and trouble; which is but short if you consider eternity you shall enjoy in glory and felicity in the Lord, which undoubtedly you will not fail to inherit for ever, if you put your trust in God's mercy, call upon his name unfeignedly, and consent not with the wicked world, but remain stedfast unto the end. God for his holy name's sake, who is properly the God of the widows, be your good and dear Father forever, and help you always, Amen, Amen.

JOHN BRADFORD.

TO these letters of Mr. Bradford, here is also adjoined another, written to some of his faithful friends, worthy to be read by all christians; wherein is described a lively comparison between the old man and the new; also between the law and the gospel.

LETTER XXII. From Mr. BRADFORD, describing a Comparison be|tween the OLD MAN and the NEW, &c.

A Man that is regenerate and born of God, (which that every one of us be, our baptism, the sacrament of regeneration, doth require under pain of damnation, and therefore let every one of us say with the virgin Mary, "Be it unto me, O Lord, according to thy word," accord|ing to the sacrament of baptism, wherein thou hast declared our adoption; and let us lament the doubting hereof in us, striving against it as we shall be made able by the Lord (a man, I say, that is regenerate, consisteth of two men, (as one may say) namely of the old man and of the new man. The old man is like to a mighty giant, such a one as was Goliah, for his birth is now perfect. But the new man is like to a little child, such a one as was David, for his birth is not perfect until the day of the general resurrection.

THE old man therefore is more strong, lusty, and stirring than the new man, because the birth of the new man is now begun, and the old man is perfectly born. And as the old man is more active, lusty, and strong, than the new man; so is the nature of him clean contrary to the nature of the new man, as being earthly and corrupted with the seed of Satan; the nature of the new man being heavenly, and blessed with the celestial seed of God. So that inasmuch as the old man is corrupt with the seed of the serpent, so is the new man blessed with the seed of God from above. And as the old man is a sinner, and an enemy to God, so, inasmuch as he is regenerate, he is righteous and holy, and a friend to God, the seed of God preserving him from sin, so that he cannot sin, as the seed of the serpent, wherewith he is corrupt even from his conception, inclineth him, yea enforceth him to sin, and nothing else but to sin: so that the best part in man before regeneration, in God's sight, is not only 〈◊〉〈◊〉 enemy, but even enmity itself.

A man therefore that is regenerate may well be called al|ways just, and always sinful; just, in respect of God's 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ and his regeneration; sinful, in respect of Satan's seed and his first birth. Betwixt these two men there is a continu•••• conflict, and a deadly war. The flesh and old man, by reason of his birth being perfect, doth often for a time ••••••••vail against the new man, (being but a child in comparison) and that in such a manner, that even the children of God themselves think that they be nothing else but old, and that the Spirit and seed of God is lost and gone away; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 yet notwithstanding the truth is otherwise, the Spirit and seed of God at length appearing again, and dispelling the clouds which cover the sun; so that sometimes a man can|not tell by any sense, that there is any sun, the clouds and winds do so hide it from our sight: even so our blindness and corrupt affections do often shadow the sight of God's seed in his children, as though they were downright r••••••••|bates. Whereof it cometh that they praying according to their sense, but not according to truth, desire of God 〈◊〉〈◊〉 give them again his Spirit, as though they had lost it, and he had taken it away. Which thing God never doth in|deed, although he maketh us to think so for a time; for he always holdeth his hand under his children in their falls, that they lie not still as others do which are not regene••••••••. And this is the difference bewixt God's children which 〈◊〉〈◊〉 regenerate and elect before all times in Christ, and the wicked always; that the elect lie not still continually in their sin, as the wicked do, but do at length return again by reason of God's seed, which is hid in them as a spark of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the ashes, as we may see in Peter, David, Paul, Mary Magdalen, and others. For these (I mean God's children) God hath made all things in Christ Jesus, to whom he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 given his dignity, that they should be his inheritance 〈◊〉〈◊〉 spouses.

THIS our inheritor Christ Jesus, God with God, Light of Light, co-eternal and co-substantial with the Father, and with the Holy Ghost, to the end that he might become our husband, (because the husband and the wife must be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 body and flesh) hath taken our nature upon him, communi|cating with it and by it in his own person, to us all his children, his divine majesty, (as St. Peter saith) and so is become flesh of our flesh, and bone of our bones substan|tially; as we are become flesh of his flesh, and bone of his bones spiritually, all that ever we have pertaining to him, yea even our sins; as all that ever he hath pertaineth unto us, even his whole glory. So that if Satan should summ•••• us to answer for our debts or sins, in that the wife is no suable person, but the husband, we may well bid him 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his action against our husband Christ, and he will make him a sufficient answer.

FOR this end, (I mean that we might be coupled and married thus to Christ, and so be certain of salvation, and

at peace with God in consciences) God hath given his holy word, which hath two parts, (as now the children of God to consist of two men) one part of God's word being pro|per to the old man, and the other part to the new man. The part properly pertaining to the old man is the law; the part properly pertaining to the new man, is the gospel.

THE law is a doctrine which commandeth and forbiddeth, requiring doing and avoiding. Under it therefore are con|tained all precepts, threatenings, and promises, upon condi|tion of our doing and avoiding, &c. The gospel is a doc|trine which always offereth and giveth, requiring faith on our behalf, not as of worthiness, or as a cause, but as a certificate unto us, and therefore under it are contained all the free and sweet promises of God; as, "I am the Lord thy God," &c.

IN those that be of years of discretion, it requireth faith, not as a cause, but as an instrument, whereby we ourselves may be certain of our good husband Christ, and of his glo|ry, and therefore when conscience feeleth itself disquieted for fear of God's judgment against sin, she may in no wise look upon the doctrine pertaining to the old man, but on the doctrine only pertaining to the new man, in not look|ing for that which it requireth, that is, faith, because we never believe as we should; but only on it which it offer|eth, and which it giveth, that is, on God's grace and eter|nal mercy and peace in Christ. So shall she be in quiet, when she looked for it, altogether out of herself, in God's mercy in Christ Jesus: in whose lap if she lay with St. John, then is she happy, and shall find quietness indeed. When she ••eeleth herself quiet, let her look on the law, and upon such things as it requireth, thereby to bridle and keep down the old Adam, to slay that Goliah; from whom she must needs keep the sweet promises, being the bed wherein her spouse and she meet and lie together. For as the wife will keep her bed only for her husband, although in other things she is contented to have fellowship with others, as to speak, sit, eat, drink, go, &c. so our consciences which are Christ's wives, must needs keep the bed, that is, God's sweet promises only for ourselves and our husband, there to meet together, to embrace, and to be joyful together. If sin, the law, the devil, or any thing would creep into the bed, and lie there, then complain to thy husband Christ, and forthwith thou shalt see him play Phineas's part. Thus, my dearly beloved, I have given you in a few words a sum of all the divinity which a christian conscience can|not want.

LETTER XXIII. Mr. BRADFORD'S Farewel to his MOTHER, when he thought he should have suffered shortly after.

THE Lord of life, and Saviour of the world, Jesus Christ, bless you and comfort you, my good and dear mother, with his heavenly comfort, consolation, grace, and spirit, now and for ever. Amen.

IF I thought that daily, yea almost hourly you did not cry upon God the Father through Jesus Christ, that he would give me his blessing, even the blessing of his children, then would I write more about it. But forasmuch as I am cer|tain you are diligent herein, so I beseech you, good mother, to continue; I think it good to write something, whereby this your crying might be furthered. Furthered it will be, if those things which hinder it be taken away. Among which, in that I think my imprisonment is the greatest and chiefest, I will spend this letter about it, and that briefly, l••st it might increase the hindrance, as my good brother, this messenger, can tell you. You shall know therefore, good mother, that for my body, though it be in an house, out of which I cannot come when I will, yet in that I have conformed my will to God's, I find herein liberty enough I thank God. And for my lodging, bedding, meat, drink, pious and learned company, books, and all other necessaries for mine ease, comfort, and convenience, I am in much better case than I could wish, and God's merciful provi|dence here is far above my worthiness. Worthiness, said I? Alas, I am worthy of nothing but damnation.

BUT besides all this, for my soul I find much more ad|vantage. For God is my Father, I now perceive, thro' Christ; therefore in imprisoning me for his gospel, he maketh me like to the image of his Son Jesus Christ here, that when he cometh to judgment, I might then be like unto him, as my trust and hope is I shall be. Now he maketh me like to his friends the prophets, apostles, the holy martyrs, and confessors. Which of them did not suf|fer at the least imprisonment or banishment for his gospel and word?

NOW, mother, how far am I unworthy to be compared to them? I (I say) which always have been, and am so vile an hypocrite and grievous sinner. God might have caused me long before this time to have been cast into pri|son as a thief, a blasphemer, an unclean liver, and an heinous offender of the laws of the realm; but dear mother, his mercy is so great upon you and all that love me, that I should be cast into prison for none of these or for any such vices, but only for Christ's sake, for his gospel's sake, for his churche's sake, that thereby as I might learn to lament and bewail my ingratitude and sins, so I might rejoice in his mercy, be thankful, look for eternal joy with Christ, for whole sake, praised be his name for it, I now suffer, and therefore should be merry and glad. And indeed, good mother, so I am, as ever I was, yea never so merry and glad was I, as now I should be, if I could get you to be merry with me, to thank God for me, and to pray on this sort: "Ah good Father, who dost vouchsafe that my son, being a grievous sinner in thy sight, should find that favour with thee, to be one of thy Son's captain's and men of war to fight and suffer for his gospel's sake, I thank thee, and pray

thee, in Christ's name, that thou wouldst forgive him his sins and unthankfulness, and make perfect in him that good which thou hast begun; yea, Lord, I pray thee make him worthy to suffer not only imprisonment, but even death it|self, for thy truth, religion, and gospel's sake. As Anna did apply and give her first child Samuel unto thee, so I, dear Father, beseech thee, for Christ's sake, to accept this my gift, and give my son John Bradford, grace always truly to serve thee and thy people, as Samuel did, Amen, Amen."

GOOD mother, mark what I have written, and learn this prayer by heart, use it sincerely every day, and then I shall be merry, and you shall rejoice if you continue, as I trust you do, in God's true religion, even the same I have taught you, and my father Traves I hope will put you in remembrance of: my brother Roger, I doubt not, daily doth so. Go on therefore, and learn apace. Al|though the devil casteth divers snares in the way, God, in whom you trust, will cast them away for his Christ's sake, if you will call upon him; and never will he suffer you to be tempted farther than he will enable you to bear. But how you should do herein, the other ••etter which I have written herewith, shall teach you, which I would have no|body read until my father Traves hath read it, and he will give you, by God's grace, some instructions.

NOW therefore will I make an end, desiring you to ex|pect no more letters: for if it were known that I had pen and ink, then should I want all other conveniences I have mentioned concerning my body, and be cast into some dungeon in fetters of iron: which thing I know would grieve you, and therefore for God's sake, see that these be burned, when this little prayer in it is copied by my bro|ther Roger: it may be your house may be searched for such things, when you little think of it: and look for no more, sweet mother, till either God shall deliver me, and send me out, or till you and I meet together in heaven, where we shall never part asunder, Amen.

I require you Elizabeth and Margaret my sisters, that you will fear God, use prayer, love your husbands, be obe|dient unto them, as God requireth you: bring up your children in God's fear: and be good housewives. God bless you both, with both your husbands, my good brethren, to whom to do good, because I cannot, I will pray for them and you. Commend me to my sister Anne, mother Pike, Thomas Sorocold, and his wife, R. Shalcross and his wife, R. Bolton, J. Wild, Mr. Vicar, the parson Mottrom, Sir Laurence Hall, with all that love, and I hope live in the gospel; and God turn Sir Thomas's heart, Amen. I will daily pray for him. I need not set my name, you know it well enough.

BECAUSE you should give my letters to my father Traves to be burned, I have written here a prayer for you to learn to pray for me, and another for all your house in your evening prayer, to pray with my brother. These prayers are written with mine own hand: keep them still, but the letters give to father Traves to burn, and give him a copy of the latter prayer.

LETTER XXIV. From Mr. BRADFORD to his MOTHER, being his last Farewel, a little before he was burned.

GOD's mercy and peace in Christ, be more and more perceived of us, Amen.

MY most dear mother, in the bowel of Christ I hea••••••|ly pray and beseech you to be thankful for me unto God who now taketh me unto himself: I die not as a criminal▪ but as a witness of Christ, the truth of whose gospel I have hitherto confessed, I thank God, both by preaching and imprisonment, and now I am willing to confirm the same by fire. I acknowledge that God might justly 〈◊〉〈◊〉 taken me hence for my sins, (which are many, great, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 grievous: but the Lord for his mercy in Christ, I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hath pardoned them all) but now, my dear mother 〈◊〉〈◊〉 taketh me hence by this death, as a confessor and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that the religion taught by Christ Jesus, the prophets 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the apostles, is God's truth. The prelates in me do per|secute Christ, whom they hate, and his truth which they will not abide, because their works are evil. They 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not care for the light, lest men thereby should discover their darkness. Therefore, my dear mother, give 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to God for me, that he hath made the fruit of thy 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to be a witness of his glory, and attend to the truth, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 I have truly taught out of the pulpit of Manchester. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 often and continual prayer to God the Father, through Jesus Christ. Hearken to the scriptures, and serve God accord|ing to them, and not according to the custom: 〈…〉〈…〉 the Romish religion in England; defile not yourself with it: carry the cross of Christ as he shall lay it upon 〈◊〉〈◊〉 back: forgive them that kill me: pray for them, for they know not what they do: commit my cause to God 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Father: be mindful of both your daughters, and help 〈◊〉〈◊〉 as well as you can.

I send all my writings to you and my brother Roger, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with them as you will, because I cannot as I would, he can tell you more of my mind. I have nothing to give you, or to leave behind me for you; only I pray God my Father, for Christ's sake, to bless you, and keep you from evil. May he make you patient, and thankful that he will take the fruit of your womb to witness his truth; wherein I confess to the whole world, I die, and depart this life, in hope of a much better: which I look for at the hands of God my Father, through the merits of his dear Son Jesus Christ.

THUS, my dear mother, I take my last farewel of you in this life, beseeching the Almighty and eternal Father by

Christ, to grant us to meet in the life to come, where we shall give him continual thanks and praise for ever and ever, Amen.

Out of prison, June 24th, 1555.

Your son in the Lord, JOHN BRADFORD.

LETTER XXV. Containing a SUPPLICATION sent by Mr. BRADFORD, to Queen MARY, her Council, and the whole Parliament.

IN most humble wise complaineth unto your majesty and honours, a poor subject, persecuted for the confession of Christ's verity; which deserveth your protection and encouragement, as the thing by which you reign and have your honour and authority. Although we that be professors, through the grace of God, the constant pro|fessors of the same, are, as it were, the out-sweepings of the world; yet, I say, the truth itself is not a thing unwor|thy for your ears to hear, for your eyes to see, and for your hands to handle, help, and succour, as the Lord hath made you able, and placed you where you are for the same purpose. Your highness and honours ought to know, that there is no innocency in words or deeds, where it is enough and suffi|cient only to accuse. It behoveth kings, queens, and all 〈…〉〈…〉 be in authority, to know, that in the administra|tion of their kingdoms they the God's ministers. It 〈◊〉〈◊〉 them to know, that they are not kings, but 〈…〉〈…〉, who reign not to this end, that they may 〈…〉〈…〉 God's glory after true knowledge: and 〈…〉〈…〉 of them that they would be wise, 〈…〉〈…〉 was to be taught, to submit themselves to the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 discipline, and to kiss their Sovereign lest they perish; as all those potentates, with their principalities, and dominions, cannot long prosper, but perish indeed, if they and their kingdoms be not ruled with the sceptre of God, that is, with his word; which whoso honoureth not, honoureth not God, and they that honour not the Lord, the Lord will not honour them, but bring them into con|tempt, and at length take his own cause, which he hath chiefly committed to them to care for, into his own hands, and so overthrow them, and set up his own truth glori|ously; the people also perishing with the princes, where the word of prophecy is wanting, much more is suppressed, as it is now in this realm of England, over which the eyes of the Lord are set to destroy it, your highness, and all your honours, if in time you look not better to your office and duties herein, and not suffer yourselves to be slaves and hangmen to Antichrist and his prelates, who have already brought your highness and honours in mind to let Barabbas loose, and to hang up Christ; as by the grace and help of God I shall make apparent, if first it would please your excellent majesty, and all your honours, to take to heart God's doctrine, which rather through the malice of the pharisees, I mean the bishops and prelates, than your consciences, is oppressed: and not for our contemptible and execrable state in the world, to pass the less of it. For this doctrine is higher, and of more honour and majesty than all the world. It standeth invincible above all power, being not our doc|trine, but the doctrine of the ever living God, and of his Christ, whom the Father hath ordained King, to have dominion from sea to sea, and from the river unto the end of the world. And truly so he doth and will reign, that he all will shake the earth with his iron and brazen power, with his golden and silver brightness, only by the rod of his mouth, to shivers, in such a manner as though they were pots of clay, according to what the prophets write of the magnificence of his kingdom. And thus much for the doctrine, and your duties to hearken, to propagate and defend the same.

BUT now will our adversaries mainly cry 〈…〉〈…〉 us, because no man may be admitted once to speak against them, that we pretend falsely the doctrine and word of God, calling us the most wicked 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of it, and heretics, schismatics, traitors, &c. All which their say|ings, how malicious and false they are, though I might refer to that which is written by those men whose works they have condemned, and all that retain any of them, publicly by proclamation; yet here will I occasion your majesty and honours by this my writing, to see that it is far otherwise than they report of us. God our Father, for his holy name's 〈◊〉〈◊〉 direct 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to be his instru|ment to put into your eyes, ears and hearts, that which most may make to his glory, in the false-guard of your souls and bodies, and preservation of the whole realm, Amen.

JOHN BRADFORD.

BESIDES these letters of Mr. John Bradford above specified, there were other letters which he wrote to father Traves, minister of Blackley, long before he came into trouble, the substance of which being fully contained in his foregoing letters, and also because we would make room for matter more entertaining, we think proper to omit, as observed before. And now we proceed to the history of the martyrs.

CHAP. XI. An Account of the Lives, Examinations, Sufferings, and Deaths of various pious PROTES|TANTS, most of whom were burned, and some died in Prison, during the bloody Persecution i•• the Reign of Queen MARY I. A. D. 1555.

A short Account of WILLIAM MINGE, who died in Prison.

THE next day after Mr. Bradford and John Leaf suffered in Smithfield, William Minge, priest, died in prison at Maidstone, being there in bonds for religion, and would, had he lived a little longer, also have suffered the fury of his adversaries, whose nature was to spare and favour none that fa|voured Christ's pure gospel. This William Minge, with as great constancy and boldness yielded up his life in prison, as if it had pleased God to have called him to suffer by fire, as other good and godly men had done before at the stake, as himself was ready to do, had it pleased God to have called him there|unto.

An Account of JAMES TREVISAM, who was buried in Moorfields.

UPON Sunday the 3d of July, 1555, died one James Trevisam, in the parish of St. Mar|garet, in Lothbury, who being impotent and lame, kept his bed a long time. This Trevisam had a servant named John Small, who was reading in the bible, when one Berd the promot•••• came to the house, and would needs go up stairs, where he found four persons besides him and his wife; to wit, the young man that read, and two men and a woman. All whom the said Berd apprehended and carried to the Compter, where they remained about a fort|night, notwithstanding all the friends they could make. Not only so, but the said Berd intended to carry the poor lame bedridden man to Newgate in a cart, (and brought a cart to the door for that pur|pose) had not the neighbour, who had a little more humanity, prevented that barbarous design. Ne|vertheless, the poor man was obliged to have two sureties for his forth coming, notwithstanding 〈◊〉〈◊〉 could not get out of his bed, being not only 〈◊〉〈◊〉 but very sick at the same time. In a few days 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he grew so ill that his life was despaired of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the parson of the parish, one Mr. Farthing, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 visit him, and had communication with him, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 they both agreed very well in matters of religion▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉 so the parson departed. No sooner was he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 down into the street, but he was met by one 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a founder, who threatened to accuse him, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with Trevisam; for, said the founder, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the sacrament of the altar. Upon 〈◊〉〈◊〉 parson went to him again, and then they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 agree. And so the parson went to the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 London, and told him. The bishop answered, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he should be burnt; and if he were already 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he should be buried in a ditch. And when he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 dead, the parson shewed as much spite and ill 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to his poor sorrowful widow as possibly 〈…〉〈…〉 not suffering her to put him in a co••••••n, or 〈…〉〈…〉 else, but insisted on carrying him on a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Moorfields, and there he was buried. 〈…〉〈…〉 night the body was taken up again, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 taken from him, and he left naked above 〈◊〉〈◊〉 The owner of the field seeing this, buried 〈◊〉〈◊〉 again; a fortnight after, the sumner came 〈◊〉〈◊〉 grave and summoned him to appear at St 〈◊〉〈◊〉 before his ordinary, to answer to such 〈…〉〈…〉 should be laid against him. But what 〈◊〉〈◊〉 this affair afterwards, I cannot certainly say.

The HISTORY of Mr. JOHN BLAND, Preacher 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Martyr.

THE 12th day of July, John Bland, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Frankesh, Nicholas Shetterde••, and H••••|phry Middleton were all four burnt at Canterbury together for one cause. Of which number, Frank|esh

and Bland were ministers and preachers of the word of God, the one being parson of Adesham, and the other vicar of Rolvindon. Mr. Bland was a man so little born for his own advantage, that no part of his life was separated from the common and public utility of all men. For his first doings were there employed to the bringing up of children in learning and virtue. Under whom were trained up several hopeful young men, which afterwards did hands••••ely flourish. In which number was Dr. Sands, a man of singular learning and worthiness, as may well become a scholar for such a school-master, whom I gladly here name for his singular 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of virtue and crudition.

AFTER this, he coming to the ministry in the church of God, or rather being called thereto, was inflamed with incredible desire to profit the congre|gation, which may appear by this, that whereas he was cast into Canterbury prison for preaching of the gospel, and delivered once or twice from thence at the intercession 〈◊〉〈◊〉 is friends, yet he would preach the gospel again, as soon as he was delivered. Whereupon he being the third time apprehended, when his friends yet once again would have found means to have delivered him if he would promise to abstain from preaching; he stood in it earnestly, that he would admit no such condition, notably well 〈…〉〈…〉 as the manner and example which we read in the apostle St. Paul; "Who shall sepa|rate us from the love of Christ? Tribulation, or anguish, or hunger, or nakedness, or persecution, or the sword?" &c. But to express the whole life and actions of this pious martyr, seeing we have his testimony concerning the same, it is best to refer the reader to his own report, writing to his father the whole discourse of his troubles, from the beginning almost to the ••atter 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in order and manner as you shall hear.

An Account of the 〈…〉〈…〉 Mr. BLAND, written 〈…〉〈…〉 Father.

DEARLY beloved father in Christ Jesus, I thank you for your gentle lette••s. And to satisfy your mind as concerning the troubles where|of you have heard, these shall b••••n declare unto you all my vexations that have happened unto me since you were with me, and also since I received your last letters. God keep you ever.

Your son, JOHN BLAND.

FIRST, The 3d of September, being Sunday, after service ended, ere I had put off my sur|plice, John Austen came to the table, (commonly called the Lord's table) and laid both his hands up|on it, saying, Who set this here again? Now they say they took the table down the Sunday before, which I knew not, neither do I know who set it up again. The clerk answered that he knew not. Then said Austen, he is a knave that set it here. I was then going down the church, wondering what he meant, and said, Goodman Austen, the queen's highness hath set forth a proclamation that you move no sedition: and before I could speak any more, he said, Thou art a knave: and I said, Well, Goodman Austen, what I have said, I have said. By God's soul, said he, thou art a very knave. Then my clerk spoke to him, but what I am not sure. But he said, You are both heretic knaves, and have deceived us too long already, and if you say any service here again, I will turn your table upside down; and in that rage he, with others, took the table and laid it on a chest in the chancel, and set the tressels by it. Soon after I rode to Mr. Isaac, and declared unto him how seditiously Austen had behaved himself. Mr. Isaac directed a warrant to the constable, which was immediately served, so that he was brought before him the same night, and was bound by recognizance, with sureties, to ap|pear if he were called. But then we agreed so we••••, that it was never called for: the table was brought down, and was permitted as before.

THE 26th of November, being Sunday, Richard Austen and his brother Thomas came to the afore|said table after the communion was done, and as I was going by them, Richard said unto me, Mr. Parson, we want to speak with you. And I said, What is your will? And he said, You know that you took down the tabernacle wherein the rood did hang, and such other things: we would know what recompence you would make us: for the queen's proceedings are (as you know) that such things must be put up again.

"SAID I," I know no such proceedings as yet; and as for what I did, I did it by commandment.

NO, said Thomas Austen, you will not know the queen's proceedings.

YES, said I, I refuse not to know them.

THEN said Richard, You are against the queen's proceedings; for you say there are abominable uses and devilishness in the mass.

GOODMAN Austen, said I, if I so said, I will say it again, and God willing, stand to the proof of it.

MASTERS all, said Richard Austen, bear record of these words, and went his way.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 Thomas Austen, Thou wilt as soon eat this book as stand to them.

NO, said I, not so soon.

TELL us, said he, what devilishness is in the mass?

I have often preached it unto you, said I, and you have not believed it, nor borne it away, neither will you ••••w, though I should tell you.

THOU (said he) hast told us always like an heretic 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thou art. Now you lie, goodman Austen, said I, by your leave. Mary, said he, thou liest. And I said, And you lie, for I have taught you Christ and his truth.

SAID he, Thou art an heretic, and ••••st taught us nothing but heresy: for thou canst say nothing that is true.

YES, goodman Austen, I can say that God is in heaven, and you will say (I hope) that it is true, and so have I taught you truly.

SAID he, thou hast taught us like an heretic, and hast said, that there is no devil in hell.

WELL, said I, lie on; methinks you can say little truth. Many other taunts he gave, too long to write. And at last he said, You pulled down 〈◊〉〈◊〉 altar, will you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it again▪ No, said I, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 I be commanded; for I was commanded to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 I did.

WELL, if you will not, said he, thou will I. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 I am churchwarden.

I charge you, said I, that you do not, except 〈◊〉〈◊〉 have authority. I will not, said he, be 〈…〉〈…〉 your charge. For we will have a mass 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Sunday, and a preacher that shall prove 〈◊〉〈◊〉 heretic, if thou dare abide his coming.

YES, said I, God willing, I will abide 〈…〉〈…〉 him; for sure I am, that he cannot disprove 〈◊〉〈◊〉 doctrine that I have preached.

YES, said he, and that thou shalt hear, if 〈…〉〈…〉 not away ere then.

NO, Mr. Austen, I will not run away.

MARRY, said he, I cannot tell; thou art 〈…〉〈…〉 as not; with many more words we came out 〈◊〉〈◊〉 church, and so departed.

WHEN Sunday came I looked for our 〈…〉〈…〉 and at the time of morning prayer I said to 〈…〉〈…〉 why do you not ring? You forget that we 〈◊〉〈◊〉 have a sermon to-day. No, said he, Mr. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 servant hath been here this morning, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 master hath letters from my lord chancellor, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 must go to London, and cannot come. That 〈◊〉〈◊〉 I preached a sermon in his stead. Now have 〈◊〉〈◊〉 slandered me, that I prepared a company 〈…〉〈…〉 places to have troubled him; but they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not in their lie. For some said, I had 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Adesham, and that Richard Austen had knowledge, and sent for the constable to see the peace 〈◊〉〈◊〉, which is found a lie. Others said, I had them 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Canterbury and Adesham. Others said, I had 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in both places, that if the one missed, the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 should not. God forgive them all. Now 〈◊〉〈◊〉 these two matters they boast that they sent two 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of complaint to the council. Wherefore by 〈◊〉〈◊〉 advice of friends, I made this testimony, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 up by Mr. Wiseman.

The Behaviour of Mr. JOHN BLAND, Parson of Ades|ham, in the County of Kent, on Sunday the 3d Day of December last, containing the Words which be there spake unto the people.

WHEREAS upon certain communication had between the said parson and Richard Au|sten, and Thomas Austen, in the presence of all the parish of Adesham, the Sunday before St. Andrew's day last, the said Austen then declared, That the said parson had taught there in times past great heresies, which to confound, they would prepare a preacher against the next Sunday following, if so be the said parson would abide, and not run away: upon which rumour, divers persons resorted out of the country, unto the said parish church, at the day appointed, there to hear the preacher; and at the time in which the sermon ought to be made, no man appeared there to preach; but it was reported to the parson that the preacher appointed, had urgent business and could not come. So that the multitude being now come together, the same parson perceiving that the peo|ple's expectation was defrauded, said, Forasmuch as you are willingly come to hear some good advertise|ment of the preacher, who cannot be now present, I think it not convenient to let you depart without some exhortation for your edification. And fur|ther declaring that he had no licence to preach, said, That he would not meddle with any matter in con|troversy. And then he began the epistle for the day, desiring the audience to mark three or four places in the said epistle, which touched of quiet|ness and love to one another: and there briefly reading the epistle, he noted the same places, and so making an end thereof, desired all men to depart quietly and in peace, as they did, without any man|ner of disturbance, or token of evil.

Witnesses, the undernamed, with divers others.

• Edmund Mores,
• Richard Randal,
• John Hills,
• William Forstall,
• Thomas Gooding.

Another Matter of trouble wrought against Mr. JOHN BLAND, as appeareth by his own Narration.

UPON Innocents day, being the 28th of De|cember, they had procured the priest of Stod|mash to say mass: he had nigh made an end of mattins ere I came; and when he had ended them, he said to me, Mr. Parson, your neighbours have desired me to say mattins and mass; I hope you will not be against the queen's proceedings. No, (said I) I will offend none of her majesty's laws, God willing. What say you? quoth he, and made as though he had not heard. Then I spake the same words to him again with an higher voice; but he would not hear, though all the rest in the chan|cel heard: I spake so loud the third time, that all the church might hear, That I would not offend the queen's laws, and then he went to mass; and when he was reading the epistle, I called the clerk unto me, with the beckoning of my finger, and said un|to him, I pray you desire the priest when the gospel is done to tarry a little, I have something to say to the people; and the clerk did so.

AND the priest came down into the stall where he sat; and I stood up in the chancel door, and spake unto the people of the great goodness of God always shewed unto his people, unto the time of Christ's coming: and in him and his coming, what benefit they past, we present, and our successors have; and among other benefits I spoke of the great and com|fortable sacrament of his body and blood. And after I had briefly declared the institution, the pro|mise of life to the good, and damnation to the wick|ed, I spake of the bread and wine, affirming them to be bread and wine after the consecration, as yonder mass-book, saying, Holy bread of eternal life, and the cup of perpetual salvation. So that like as our bodily mouths eat the sacramental bread and wine, so doth the mouth of our souls (which is our faith) eat Christ's flesh and blood. And when I had made an end of that, I spake of the misuse of the sacrament in the mass; so that I judged it in that use no sacrament, and shewed how Christ bade us all eat and drink; and in the mass one only eat|eth and drinketh, and the rest kneel, knock, and worship: and after these things ended, as briefly as I could, I spake of the benefactors of the mass, and began to declare who made the mass, and recited every man's name, and the patch that he put on the mass; but before I had rehearsed them all, the church-warden and the constable his son-in-law, violently came upon me, and took my book from me, and pulled me down, and thrust me into the chancel, with an exceeding roar and cry. Some cried, Thou

heretie; some, Thou traitor; some, Thou rebel; and when every man had said his pleasure, and the rage was something past, Be quiet, good neigh|bours, said I, and let me speak to you quietly. If I have offended any law, I will make answer before ••hem that are in authority to correct me. But they would not hear me, and pulled me, one on this side, and another on that, and began again. Then Richard Austen said, Peace, masters, no more till mass be done, and they ceased. Then I said to the church-warden and constable, each holding me by the arm; Masters, let me go into the church-yard till your mass be done. No, said the church-war|den, thou shalt tarry here till mass be done. I will not, said I, but against my will. And they said, Thou shalt tarry, for if thou go out thou wilt run away. Then I said to the constable, lay me in the stocks, and then you will be sure of me, and turned my back to the altar. By that time Richard Au|sten had devised what to do with me, and called the constable and the church-warden, and bade them put me into a side chapel, and shut the door on me, and there they made me tarry till mass was ended. When the mass was ended, they came into the chapel to me, and searched what I had about me; and found a dagger, and took it from me. Then said Thomas Austen, church-warden, after many babblings that they made with me, Thou keepest a wife here amongst us, against God's law and the queen's. You lye, goodman Austen, said I, it is not against God's law, nor as I suppose, against the queen's. Thus they brought me out of the church, and without the door they railed on me without pity or mercy: but anon the priest came out of the church, and Ramsey, that of late was clerk, said unto him, Sir, where dwell you? And therefore Thomas Austen took him by the arm, and said, Come on, sirrah, you are of his opinion, and took his dagger from him, and said, he should go with him. I am content, said he, and a little mocked them in their envious talk. By this time John Gray of Wingham, servant to John Smith, came in at the church style, and seeing them hold Ram|sey by the arms, said to him, How now, Ramsey, have you offended the queen's laws? No, said he. Then there is no transgression. Therewith Tho|mas Austen took him, and said, You are one of their opinion, you shall go with them for company, and took his dagger from him, and then demanded what he did there? But after (I think) for very shame they let him go again. But they carried me and Ramsey to Canterbury, guarded by eighteen per|sons. A sheet of paper would not contain the talk we had that night with Mr. Hardes, justice, Mr. Oxenden. Mr. Spilman, and Mr. Tutsam.

THE next day they made a bill against me, but it served not their purpose, which was, that they would have had me to prison. But James Chapman, and Bartholomew Joyes, were bound in twenty pounds each of them for my appearance at the next general sessions, or in the mean time to appear, if I were sent for, before the queen's majesty's council, or any other commissioners sent by the queen's authority. And Ramsey was bound to the peace, and to be of good behaviour till the next sessions. His 〈◊〉〈◊〉 were Thomas Hogeking, and Simon Barrat.

NOW on the 23d or 24th of February Sir Tho|mas Finch, knight, and Mr. Hardes, sent for me and my sureties to Mr. Finch's place, and took me from my sureties, and sent me to the castle of Can|terbury, by Sir Thomas Moyles's order, as they said, where I lay ten weeks, and then was bai••ed and bound to appear at the next sessions holden at Canterbury; but after, they changed it to be at Ashford on Thursday in Whitsun-week, being the nineteenth of May: but in the mean time the mat|ter was exhibited to the spiritual court.

The first Examination of Mr. JOHN BLAND in the Spi|ritual Court, before Dr. HARPSFIELD, Archdeacon of Canterbury, and Mr. COLLINS, Commissary.

THE 18th day of May, Mr. Harpsfield, arch|deacon of Canterbury, obliged the mayor's serjeant to bring me before him and Mr. Collins, commissary, into Christ's-church, and they took me into a chamber in the suffragan of Dover's house.

THEN the archdeacon said, Art thou a priest? And I said, I was one. And he said, Art thou a graduate of any university? and I said, Yea. What degree, said he, hast thou taken? The degree, said I, of Master of Arts. The more pity, replied he, that thou shouldst behave thyself as thou hast done. Thou hast been a common licensed preacher, hast

thou not? and I said, I have been so. Marry, said he, so I understand.

Harps.

What hast thou preached?

Bland.

God's word, to the edifying of his people.

Harps.

No, no, to the destruction both of thy soul and their's too, if the mercy of God be not speedily extended towards you. I pray thee tell me what thou hast preached?

Bland.

I told you already what I have preached.

Harps.

Nay, but tell me what one matter hast thou preached to the edifying of the people, as thou sayest?

Bland.

I will tell you no particular matter: for I perceive you would have some matter against me.

Harps.

No, by my faith, I only desire to win thee from the heresies thou art bewrapt in, and hast infected others withal. For thou hast preached, as I am informed, that the blessed sacrament of the altar is not the real body and blood of Christ after the consecration. Tell me, hast thou not thus preached? and is this thy opinion?

Bland.

Sir I perceive, as I said before, that you seek some matter against me. But seeing that I am bound in the sessions to my good behaviour for preaching, which may be broken with words, and well I know not with what words; and also both mine authority to preach, and my living taken from me, I think I am not bound to make you an answer.

Collins.

Mr. Bland, do you not remember, that St. Peter biddeth you make answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the faith that is in you?

Bland.

I know that, and am content so to answer as that text biddeth: but I know that Mr. Arch|deacon doth not ask me after that manner, but ra|ther to bring me into trouble. Then they said, No, you shall not be troubled for any thing you may say here.

Bland.

I am content for knowledge sake to com|mune with you in any matter, but not otherwise. And so they ••ell to reasoning for the space of an hour, of the sacrament, both against me. At la•••• Mr. Collins said, Mr. Bland, will you come and take in hand to answer such matters on Monday next as shall be laid to you?

Bland.

Sir, you said I should not be troubled for any thing that should be said here for learning's sake. And they said, You shall not, but it is for other matters.

Bland.

Sir, I am bound to appear, as some t••ll me, on Thursday next at Ashford, I am in doubt whether I can or no: yet have I purposed to be there, and so to go to London to Mr. Wiseman, for an obligation that he hath, whereby I should receive some money to pay my debts withal. Thou said Mr. Archdeacon, I will write to Mr. Wiseman, that you shall sustain no loss.

Bland.

That shall not need: for I can sustain no great loss if I go not. But I pray you let me have a longer day. No, said ••e.

Bland.

Sir, I cannot well come on Monday.

Harps.

Wilt thou not come when he so gently speaketh to thee, where he may command thee?

Bland.

I do not deny to come, but I desire a longer day.

Harps.

Thou shalt have no other day: I charge thee to come on Monday.

Bland.

Sir, I perceive it shall be for this or like matters: will it please you, or Mr. Collins, for God's sake, to confer scriptures privately with me in this matter, seeing you say you would so gladly win me.

Harps.

With all my heart will I take the pains, and I will borrow my lord of Dover's library, to have what books thou wilt: and thus they depart|ed. Now the 17th of May at Ashford I could not be released, although I was called to the Spiritual Court for that purpose, but was bound to appear at the sessions held at Crambroke the third of July.

Another APPEARANCE of Mr. BLAND, before the Archdeacon and his Fellows.

ON the 21st of May I appeared in the chap|ter-house, where was a great multitude of people, unlooked for by me▪ and Mr. Archdeacon said thus to me; You are come here according as you were appointed; and the cause is, that it hath pleased the queen's highness here to place me, to see God's holy word set forth, and to reform those that are here fallen into great and heinous errors, to the great displeasure of God, and the decay of Christ's sacraments, and contrary to the faith of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 catholic church, whereof thou art notably known to be one that is sore poisoned with the same, and hast infected and deceived many with thy evil preaching; which if thou wilt renounce, and come home again to the catholic church, both La••d many others would be very glad: and I for my part shall be right glad to shew you the favour that lieth in me, as I said unto you when you were appointed hither, because you then refused to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 again the people that you had deceived. And whereas it is feigned by you, that I should openly dispute the matter with you this day; al|though I did neither so intend nor appoint, yet I am content to dispute the matter with thee, if thou wilt not without disputation help to heal the souls that are brought hell-ward by thee. What sayest thou?

Bland.

I do protest before God and you all, that neither is my conscience guilty of any error or heresy, neither that I ever taught any error or he|resy willingly. And where your mastership saith, That I have feigned an open disputation with you, it is not true▪ as I can thus prove: Upon Satur|day I was at Uxden's, and there Mr. Bingham laid it to my charge, that such an open disputation, as you have here offered, should be this day between you and me. Whereat I much marvelled, and said to him, that before that present I never heard any such word; neither would I answer nor dis|pute: And Mr. Vaughan, Mr. Oxenden, Mr. Seth, of Overland, and Mr. Uxden can witness to this; and further I said to them, that I never spake to you of any disputation, nor you to me. Now if your mastership have any thing to say to me by the law, I will make answer to it.

Harps.

Hear ye what he saith? His conscience is clear. I pray thee, whereon groundest thou thy conscience? Let me hear what thy faith is.

Bland.

I know not why you should ask me a reason of my faith, more than any man in this o|pen audience.

Harps.

Why, thou heretic, art thou ashamed of thy faith? If it were a christian belief, thou needest not be ashamed of it.

Bland.

I am not ashamed of my faith. For I belieVe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ his only Son our Lord, &c. with all the other articles of the creed; and I do believe all the holy scriptures of God to be most certain and true.

Harps.

Wilt thou declare no more than this?

Bland.

No.

Harps.

Well, I will tell thee whereon I ground my faith: I do believe and ground my faith and conscience upon all the articles of the creed, and upon all the holy scriptures, sacraments, and holy doctors of the church, and upon all the general councils that ever were since the apostles time. Lo, hereupon ground I my faith; with many more words which I do not well remember.

AND when he could get no other answer from me, than what I had said before, he called for a scribe to make an act against me. And 〈◊〉〈◊〉 much communication, I said, By what law and au|thority will you proceed against me? Mr. Colli•••• said, By the canon law.

Bland.

I doubt whether it be in strength or no. Yet I pray you let me have a counsellor in the law, and I will make answer according to the law.

Harps.

Why, thou heretic, thou wilt not con|fess thy faith to me, that have authority to demand it of thee; and yet I have confessed my faith to thee before all this audience. As concerning the

blessed sacrament of the altar, thou hast taught, that after the consecration it is bread and wine, and not the body and blood of our Saviour Jesus Christ. How sayest thou, hast thou not thus taught?

Bland.

Sir, as concerning this matter of the sacrament, when I was with you and Mr. Collins, you said then it was for other matters that I should come hither: and further, that you would be con|tent at my desire, to confer scriptures with me, to see if you could win me; and you said, you would borrow my lord of Dover's library, that I should have what book I would▪ and now you require me thus to answer, contrary to your promise before any conference be had, and seek rather to bring me into trouble, than to win me.

Harps.

I will, as God shall help me, do the best to thee that I can, if thou wilt be any thing conformable; and I hope to dissolve all thy doubts, if thou be willing to hear. And I also will desire these two worshipful men, my lord of Dover, and Mr. Collins, to hear us.

Bland.

No, you shall pardon me of that: there shall be no such witness. But when we agree, set to our hands. Here the people made a great noise against me, for refusing the witness: and here we had many more words than I can rehearse. But at last I said, Sir, will you give me leave to ask you one question? And he said, Yea, with all my heart. For in that thou askest any thing, there is some hope that thou mayest be won.

Bland.

Sir, when it pleased Almighty God to send his angel unto the virgin Mary to salute her, and said, "Hail, full of grace," &c. came any substance from God our Father into the virgin's womb to become man? Whereat Mr. Archdeacon, my lord of Dover, and Mr. Collins were silent But my lord spake first, and said, The Holy Ghost came to her; and ere he had brought out his sen|tence, Mr. Syriac Peters said, "The power of the Most High overshadowed her." Truth, said Mr. Archdeacon, it was the power of God sent by the Holy Ghost. They had forgot, that He was begotten of the substance of his Father; or else they perceived whereunto this question tended: and so both I and they left it, by what words I cannot tell. But I said, Sir, I shall ask one other? 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he said, Yea. Is there in the sacrament, after the consecration, Christ's natural body, with all the qualities of a natural body, or no?

Harps.

Hark, said Mr. Archdeacon, hear you this heretic? He thinks it an absurdity to grant all the qualities of Christ's natural body to be in the sacrament. But it is no absurdity: for even that natural body that was born of the virgin Mary is glorfied, and that same body is in the sacrament after the consecration. But perceive you not the arrogancy of this heretic, that will put me to an|swer him, and he will not answer me? He thought to put me to a pinch with his question; for I tell you it is a learned question.

Bland.

If you be so much discontented with me, I will say no more; yet I would all men heard, that you say the glorified body of Christ is in the sacrament after the consecration.

Harps.

I may call thee gross ignorant. Thou gross ignorant, is not the same body glorified, that was born of the virgin Mary? Is it then any ab|surdity to grant that to be in the sacrament? And while he spake many other words, I said to Mr. Petit, That the sacrament was instituted, delivered, and received of his apostles, before Christ's body was crucified; and it was crucified before it was glorified; which saying Mr. Petit partly recited to Mr. Archdeacon.

Harps.

Thou hast no learning. Was not Christ's body given to his apostles, as a glorified act? And yet no inconvenience, although his natural body was not crucified; for when he was born of the virgin Mary without pain, was not that the act of a glorified body? and when he walked on the wa|ter, and when he came into the house to his apostles, the doors being shut fast, were not these the acts of a glorified body?

THEN my lord of Dover helped him to a better place, and said, When Christ was in Mount Ta|b••r, he was there glorified in the sight of his apostles.

Harps.

You say truth, my lord, he was glori|fied in the sight of three of his apostles.

Bland.

This methinks is new doctrine.

Harps.

Well, seeing he will by no other way be reformed, let the people come in and prove these matters against him. And thereupon the archdeacon brought forth a copy of the bill of com|plaint that was put up against me at Christmas, and about that we had a little talk. And then Mr. Archdeacon rose up, and said, See ye, good people that know this matter, that ye come in, and prove it against him. Whereunto answered Tho|mas Austen, I pray you let us be no more troubled with him, and then spake John Austen, and Heath a one-ey'd man, and began to accuse me; but I gave them no other answer, but do to me what ye can by law, and I will answer it. Then said Tho|mas Austen, Bland, you were once abjured. You say not truly, goodman Austen, said I, I was ne|ver abjured. Either, said he, you were abjured, or else you had the king's pardon. Neither of both, said I; you speak this of mere malice, with many other babbling words. Then Mr. Arch|deacon departed, and left Mr. Collins to command me to appear the next day. However, for certain other urgent business that I had, I did not appear, but wrote a letter to Mr. Commissary, desiring him to respite the matter till my coming home a|gain; and if he would not, I would contentedly submit myself to the law when I came home.

NOW about the 28th day of June I came to Mr. Commissary to let him know of my return, and offered myself to satisfy the law, if it were proceed|ed against me, before Mr. Cocks of Surry, and Marks the apparitor; but Mr. Commissary gently said, that he had done nothing against me; and so appointed me to appear before him the Friday seven night after. In the mean time a sessions was held at Crambroke, where I was bound to appear; and carrying surety with me to be bound again, for I expected no other, did appear the third day of July.

THEN said Sir John Baker, Bland, we hear that you are a Scot; where was you born and brought up? I said, I was born in England. And he said, Where? I replied, in Sedber, and brought up by one Dr. Lupton, proyost of Eaton college. Well, said he, I know him well. Remain to your bond till afternoon.

THEN said sir Thomas Moyle, Ah Bland, thou art a stiff-necked fellow. Thou wilt not obey the law, nor answer when thou art called. Then said sir John Baker, Mr. Sheriff take him to your ward: and the bailiff set me in the stocks, with others, and would not hear me speak one word; and so we re|mained in the gaol or Maidstone, till a fortnight be|fore Michaelmas, or thereabouts: and then we were carried to Rochester, to the assize held there, where we were two days among the prisoners: and when we were called, and the judges ask|ed our causes, when my cause was rehearsed, Mr. Barrow, clerk of the peace, said, that I was an ex|communicate person.

THEN the judges of assize remanded us to Maid|stone again, ordering us to be brought to the next sessions that should be held at the town of Malden: however the sheriff never sent for us; so we tarried at Maidstone till the sessions held at Greenwich, the 18th and 19th of February. I and others being within the bar amongst the felons, and irons upon our arms, were called out the latter day by the jailor and bailiffs, and eased of our irons, and car|ried by them into the town to sir John Baker, Mr. Petit, Mr. Webb, and two others whom I knew not.

Another EXAMINATION of Mr. BLAND.

BAKER.

Bland, wherefore were you cast in|to prison?

Bland.

I cannot well tell. Your master-ship cast me in.

Baker.

Yea, but for what were you in before that time.

Bland.

For an unjust complaint against me.

Baker.

What was the complaint;

Bland.

I told him as truly and as briefly as I could.

Baker.

Let me see thy book?—And I gave him a Latin Testament.

Baker.

Will you go to the church, and obey and follow the queen's proceedings, and do as an honest man should do?

Bland.

I trust in God to do no otherwise but as an honest man ought to do.

Baker.

Will you do as I said?

Bland.

Will it please your mastership to give me leave to ask you a question?

Baker.

Yes.

Bland.

Sir, may a man do any thing that his conscience is not satisfied in to be good.

Baker.

Away, away; and threw down the book, and said, it is no testament. And I said, Yes. And Mr. Webb took it up, and said unto me very gently, Mr. Bland I knew you when you were not of this opinion; I would to God you would reform yourself; with better words than I can write. And I said; if you have known me of another opinion than I am now of, it was for lack of knowledge.

Baker.

Yea, sayest thou so? by St. Mary, and hold thee there, I will give six faggots to burn thee, ere thou should be unburned: hence knave, hence. And so were we returned into our place again within the bar. And at night, when judg|ment of felons and all was done, we were called, and the judge ordered the jailor to deliver us to the ordinary. And if, said the judge, they will not be reformed, let them be delivered to us again, and they shall have judgment and execution. And one of our company said, My lord, if we be killed at your hands for Christ's sake, we shall live with him for ever.

Another Appearance of Mr. BLAND in the Spiritual Court.

THEN we came to the castle of Canterbury, and there we remained till the s••cond day of March, on which day we were brought int•• the chapter-house of Cree-church, where were sitting the suffragan of Canterbury, Mr. Collins, Mr. Milles, with others, and then went to them Mr. Oxenden, Mr. Petit, Mr. Webb, and Mr. 〈◊〉〈◊〉, justices. And when I was called, Mr. Webb said, Here we present this man unto you, as one vehe|mently suspected of heresy.

Bland.

Mr. Webb, you have no cause to sus|pect me of heresy. I have been a prisoner this whole year, and no matter proved against me. I pray you, what is the reason I have been kept so long in prison?

Webb.

Leave your arrogant asking of questions, and answer to that that is laid to your charge.

Bland.

I do so; for I say you have no cause to suspect me of heresy.

Webb.

Yes; you denied to sir John Baker, to be conformable to the queen's proceedings.

Bland.

Is it a just cause to suspect m•• of heresy, for asking a question with leave? So we had more words than I well remember.

THEN stood up Mr. Petit, and said▪ Y••u were cast into prison, because you fled away 〈◊〉〈◊〉 your ordinary.

Bland.

Then have I had wrong: for I never fled nor disobeyed mine ordinary, nor did any thing contrary to the law. If I did, let them now speak; but they said nothing. And when I saw they held their peace, I said, Mr. Commissary, have you been the cause of this my imprisonment? No, says he; you know that when you went from me, you were appointed to appear the Friday after the ses|sions. Here I was suffered to speak no more, but shut up in a corner till my companions were pre|sented, and then we were sent to Westgate into pri|son, and were put into several close holds, so that we could not speak to one another, neither was any man permitted to come to us. We appeared four times in this manner: but one they dispatched, by what means I cannot tell, whose name was Corn|wall, a tanner.

AND thus hitherto passed the talk between Bland

and the justices, and certain gentlemen of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Now followeth the order of the reasoning, between him and the clergymen, before whom he was examined. But forasmuch as the chief doer and judge against him was the bishop of Dover, or suffragan of Canterbury, called Dr. Richard Thorn|ton, to the intent it may appear what little truth or constancy is in these catholic persecutors, I thought here to exhibit, by the way, a certain popish letter, written to him by a papist. Wherein is declared what gospeller the said Richard Thornton was in king Edward's time, who now turning with the tide, sheweth himself a most bitter persecutor against God's servant's in queen Mary's time. The copy of this letter here followeth.

The Copy of a Popish Letter written to the Bishop of DOVER, by one THOMAS GOLDWELL, a Priest, declaring what a Professor he was in King ED|WARD'S Time.

RIGHT reverend, and my good lord, after my hearty thanks for your good cheer at my last being with your lordship, this shall be to certify you, that as soon as cardinal Poole arrived, I gave him your letters, but I had much work to obtian any thing of him for you. For there hath been very evil informations given of you, and it hath been said, that you have concurred with all manner of evil proceedings, which have for some years been in England, as well against the holy sacrament of the altar, and against the supreme authority of Christ's vicar upon earth, as with the use of the late abominable communion, and with the marriage of priests, as well religious as secular; and that you have given orders to (I cannot tell how many) base, unlearned, and evil-disposed people, by rea|son of which they have taken upon them to preach, and thereby have done much hurt in Kent. So that men think, that yet if any new mutation (which God forbid) should happen, you would be as ready to change as any other. And indeed it maketh me to fear the same, by reason that not|withstanding it hath pleased Almighty God to pro|vide, that our absolution was sent unto you, (when you little thought of it) absolving you from all past offences, yet your lordship (more regarding the vanity ••f the world than the offence of God, which he only knoweth how much it grieves me for the due love I bear unto you) presumed to sing mass in pontificials, the holidays immediately following, and also to ministrate to children the sacrament of confirmation, because that one (being a member of the devil) did somewhat comfort you so to do.

OH my lord, what honour should it have been both to God and to yourself, and also edification to all good people, (though all worldly men and here|tics would have laughed you to scorn) if you con|sidering your great offences towards God, and his goodness towards you, would, as you have offend|ed in the face of the world, to the damnation of many, likewise have shewed yourself penitent in the face of the world, to the edification of many, and not so soon to have celebrated for vanity ponti|ficially; but for a time to have abstained for reve|rence altogether from the altar, according to the ancient custom of the church. Which I have also seen observed by some honest men, not being en|joined thereto by any man, but as their own con|sciences obliged them. But what is past cannot be recalled. And I thought it not my part to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 your lordship, mine own friend and master, in the mire. Wherefore I ceased not so solicit your 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with my lord's grace, till at last I obtained 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his grace for your lordship all the faculties of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 send you a copy here enclosed, partly for your own consolation, and partly for the comfort of others, desiring your lordship to use them to the honour of God that there come to me thereof no rebuke: not publishing them to any person, but to such as you know will gladly receive them. For hitherto there is never a bishop in England, who hath grant|ed him so great authority concerning those which be under his cure. Only Mr. Archdeacon hath the like, and in one thing, more great than be these your lordship's. Wherefore your lordship shall do well to remit unto him all such priests as have cure of souls, whether they be beneficial men or parish priests. For he hath not only authority to absolve them, as you have, but also to give them authority to absolve such as be underneath their cures. And thus I commit your lordship to the protection of Almighty God.

Written at Brussels the 16th of June, 1554.

Your lordship's be••dman, THOMAS GOLDWELL.

AND thus much by way of digression, concern|ing the bishop of Dover. Now to return again to the examination of Mr. Bland: let us hear his own report of his answers, as followeth.

Here followeth mine answer, as nigh as I can call to remembrance, every word and sentence; yet if any that was present can help to perfect it, I would be glad. But yet this I dare say, that there is never one sentence, but it was openly spoken the 9th of March in the Chap|ter-house of Cree-church, in the presence of as many as they had chosen, the mayor of the city being called to be an assistant, and all others shut out.

The ANSWER of Mr. BLAND, at his Appearance before the Commissary, and others in the Spiritual Court.

MR. COLLINS said: Mr. Bland, you know that you are presented unto us as one sus|pected of heresy. How say you, be you content|ed to reform yourself to the laws of this realm, and of the holy church?

Bland.

I deny that I am justly suspected of he|resy, and 〈…〉〈…〉 heard when I was presented, that I denied the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to be just, but to defend the unjust pun••••••ment that I have suffered: neither can you prove that any occasion hath been given by me, whereby any man should suspect me therein. But if you have any ••••w or authority to proceed against me for any thing done for a whole year ago and more▪ I will answer to it.

Collins.

You were convented before Mr. Arch|deacon and me, and matter of heresy laid to your charge.

Bland.

That matter was done and said a whole year ago, for I have been in prison this year and more. If you have any thing against me by law, I desire that you let me know the law and matter, and I will answer according to the law.

THEN said my lord suffragan: But that I am one of the judges I would rise, and stand by thee, and accuse thee to be a sacramentary, and bring witness to prove it; yea, and further, that thou hast called▪ the mass an abominable idol.

Bland.

You, my lord, never heard me say so: but I heard you once say, That in your conscience you had abhorred the mass three years. Thou liest, says he, I never said so.

Bland.

My lord, if they might be heard, I can bring witness to prove it, with the day, time, and place; and I once did hear Mr. Collins at a visita|tion in Wingham say, That Christ was a full satis|faction for all sin, present and to come, contrary to that he saith now.

AND here we had more words of this matter, which I let pass for lack of good remembrance.

MR. Collins said, This is but a drift. You had better answer now, else you shall go to prison again, and be called on Monday, and have articles laid to you, and if you then answer not directly, you shall be condemned as an heretic, and that will be worse for you.

Bland.

Sir, I do not now, nor will then deny to answer any thing that you can lay to my charge by law: wherefore I trust you will let me have the be|nefit of the law.

Collins.

This is the law, that if you be required of the ordinary to render a reason of your faith, then may you not deny it. And that we do now.

Bland.

To that then will I answer. For I be|lieve in God the Father Almighty, maker of hea|ven and earth, and Jesus Christ his only Son our Lord, with all the other articles of the creed: and I believe all the articles contained both in the creed called the mass creed, and in the creed of Atha|nasius: and I do believe, that all the holy scrip|tures, and all things therein contained, are most true.

Collins.

This will not serve you: you must an|swer to all such articles in all these as shall be laid to you, or asked of you.

Bland.

Sir, I have answered you. Have him

away, said my lord of Dover, he had better have answered.

Bland.

My lord, I am ready to answer, if you have any thing against me by law.

Bp. of Dover.

You have preached many here|sies in Adesham, where I am parson now; and therefore you must make answer to them.

Bland.

Lay them to my charge by the law, and I will answer them, if you can prove that I am bound to answer to that which was done a year ago or more: for if you may do that, you may also lay to my charge, and compel me to answer to all things done in all my life.

Collins.

It is not a year ago since you were be|fore Mr. Archdeacon and me.

Bland.

It is a year and ten weeks since the words were spoken, and I have been a prisoner ever since, and have been at five sessions, and never could have my cause tried. Methinks your charities should think it punishment enough, if I had been guilty.

Collins.

All this will not serve you; you must needs answer, and it will be better for you to answer now than another time. Will you reform yourself, and go to the church, worship Christ in the blessed sacrament of the altar, and be obedient unto all the queen's laws?

Bland.

I pray you, wherefore am I brought hi|ther?

Collins.

To answer to such things as are de|manded of you.

Bland.

Sir, I thought you had some matters against me by the law.

Collins.

Well, on Monday at nine of the clock you shall see the law, and have articles laid unto you.

THEN they espied Mr. Cox the lawyer, and call|ed him in, and said, Here is a lawyer can tell you are bound by law to answer: And he said as they had said.

Collins.

Do you not believe, that after the con|secration of the blessed sacrament of the altar, there remaineth no substance of bread, but the subst••••ce of Jesus Christ, both God and man?

Bland.

Mr. Commissary, I know not by any law why you should ask me that question more than any other man here. And after a little talk, my lord of Dover asked me this question: Dost thou not believe, after the consecration, that it is the bo|dy of Christ? And I said, No, I do not so believe: for the scriptures do not teach me, that there should remain the flesh of Christ, to eat as a man should eat man's flesh.

THEN Mr. Glasier said, That was the opinion of the Capernaites, there is no man here of that opinion: and spake long of cutting of Christ's body, as men cut flesh in the shambles.

THEN Dr. Faucet said, Mr. Bland, forasmuch as you and I were brought up both in one house, and born both in one parish, I would be as glad as any man alive to do you good; but you may not thus stand against the church. For Christ saith, You must humble yourself, and take up his cross, and follow him: and to humble yourself in this place, is to be content, and no•• stick to your own judgment, but to humble yourself to the holy church, which hath determined, that after the con|secration there remaineth no bread, but the natural body and blood of Christ.

Bland.

Mr. Doctor, if you take humbling of ourselves in that place, to admit the determination of the church, then must we know by the scrip|tures, that the same church determined nothing but according to the scriptures, as this is not: and therefore I do not believe any such transubstantiation, nor ever will, God willing. Then, says he, I have done with you; I will no more pray for you than for a dog.

THEN said Mr. Glasier, How think you? Did St. Paul, when he said, Is not the bread that we

break a partaking of the body of Christ? did he mean baker's bread?

Bland.

Though he did not mean baker's bread, that doth not prove that he brake natural and real flesh.

Glasier.

No, by St. Mary, we say not so, but we say it is the natural body glorified, under the form of bread and wine.

Bland.

Then the apostles had it not as we have; or else his glorified body was crucified for us.

Glasier.

Tush, you do not understand the scrip|tures. For Christ's body was ever glorified, in that it was so marvellously united to the Godhead: yea, and he shewed his body divers times glorified, as in the mount Tabor; and when he walked on the wa|ter, we see he was light, and had no weight in him. Was not that then a glorified body?

Bland.

Then belike Peter's body was glorified, if walking on the water was the deed of a glorified body: and the iron that Elisha made made to swim upon the water.

TUSH, said my lord of Dover, that was done by prayer. But there was such a laughing, that I heard no more what my lord said.

Bland.

Masters, I know that it availeth nothing to reason with you, no more than it availed you in the time of the gospel. For then neither the reason of Eckius, Cochlaeus, nor yet of detection of the devil's sophistry of my lord chancellor's doing, could take any place. And it is known to some that be here, that something I can say in them.

Dover.

No, you know Oecolampadius, Zuing|lius, and such others.

Bland.

Indeed, my lord, I have seen part of their doing.

Dover.

That is seen by thee to-day.

Glasier.

I was glad when I heard you say, you believed the catholic church, and now go you from it.

Bland.

No, that I do not.

Glasier.

You know that Christ saith, "If thy brother have offended thee, go and reconcile him between thee and him. If he hear thee not, take two or three with thee, that in the mouth of two o•• three witnesses all things may be established. If he hear not them, tell it unto the church; if he hear not the church, take him as an heathen." I pray you where could you have found this church of your's fifty years ago?

Bland.

You know that the true church did not at all times flourish, but was wonderfully perse|cuted.

THEN my lord of Dover cried, No more, I com|mand you to hold your peace. Have him away, and bring in another.

Collins.

You shall come again on Monday at nine o'clock, and in the mean time you shall have whom you will to confer withal; your friend Dr. Faucet, or Mr. Glasier, if you desire them.

Bland.

I will refuse to talk with no man: as for any conference on your part, it is but weak laws, established as they are. But when there was no law, I did desire conference. And so for that time I departed.

THE Monday after we were brought to the same place again; and then Mr. Collins began to speak to me, but after what manner, it is clean out of my mind; but the end was, that I would reform my|self. But as I did before, I demanded what they had to lay to my charge, and to see the law, which they said before I should see.

Dover.

What needs? We have enough against you: for you denied unto me transubstantiation in the sacrament.

Bland.

I did refuse to answer till you promised I should see the law, whereby you might compel me to answer.

Dover.

My lord took the scribe's book, and

〈◊〉〈◊〉 the answer that I made to Dr. Faucet's reason, which I knew not that they had written.

Bland.

My lord I made you no such answer when you asked me; I take Mr. Collins and Mr. Glasier to witness. Then they brought forth a decretal, a book of the bishop of Rome's law, to bind me to answer, which my heart abhorred to look upon. The effect was, that the ordinary had authority to examine, and that those whom they so examined must needs answer. But I said that it meaned such as were justly suspected, as I was not. And here we had much communication; for I charged them with unjust imprisonment, which they could not avoid.

MR. Oxenden would have helped them, and said, the justices put me in prison for preaching a sediti|ous sermon, and for troubling a priest at mass.

Bland.

That is not true; for after I had been ten weeks in prison I was bailed out, till I was cast in again, (as the justice said) for the disobeying mine ordinary, which I never did.

Collins.

Are you willing to confer with some? It will be better for you; now we offer it, because you would not desire it.

Bland.

As I did not refuse before, no more will I now. But I did not perceive before, but that one thing might have come, without any leave-asking, to confer the scriptures: and therefore I expected Dr. Faucet would have come to me without desir|ing, if any profit to me had been in conference; for though I was never able to do him good, yet once I was his tutor.

Collins.

Will you come to his chamber in the afternoon?

Bland.

Sir, I am a prisoner, it is meet that I obey, and come whither you will, and so depart|ed. At this time we were three. But they took another to appear before them the Tuesday seven-night after. And when he came, I knew not what was done, but I hear they excommunicated him, and let him go.

Here followeth a certain Confutation of Mr. BLAND, against false and manifest Absurdities granted by Mr. MILLES, Priest of Christ-church in Canterbury.

MILLES.

We say that Christ is in or under the sacrament really and corporally, which are the forms of bread and wine, and that there is his body contained invisibly, and the qualities which we do see, as whiteness and roundness, be there without substance by God's power, as quantity and weight be there also by invisible measure.

Bland.

This is your own divinity, to make ac|cidents the sacrament, and Christ's real body invisi|bly contained in them, and so to destroy the sacra|ment. And yet the doctors say, the matter of the sacrament is bread and wine. And God by his power worketh no miracles with "This is my body," so as to change the substance of bread and wine into his body and blood, in that he maketh accidents to be without their substance by invisible measure. I am ashamed to see you so destroy Christ's sacrament, contrary to your own doctors, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with God's work.

Milles.

To Christ is given all power in heaven and in earth; so that by the omnipotent power of his God|head he may be, and is where he listeth; and i•• really and corporally, without occupying of place; for a glorified body occupyeth no place.

Bland.

Mark your own reason. All power is given to Christ both in heaven and earth; by the omnipotent power of his Godhead he may be where he list: Ergo, He is in the sacrament really and corporally without occupying of place.

I deny your argument; for it followeth neither of your major nor minor. And first I would learn of you, how you know that Christ lifteth to be pre|sent at the will of every priest. For if the priest list not to say your mass, then Christ listeth not to be there.

AGAIN, ye say, all power is given unto Christ both in heaven and in earth; so that is the cause by your reason, that by the omnipotent power of his Godhead he may be where he list: and by that rea|son he had no power of his Godhead, till he had his

human body, and then he was not equal with the Father in divinity: for all power was not given to Christ, before the humanity and the Godhead were knit together, neither was he the Son. Here is more danger than you are aware of, if you would stand to it with just judges.

Milles.

We eat Christ's flesh and blood spiritu|ally, when we receive it with faith and charity. And we also do eat it corporally in the sacrament; and the body that we so receive hath life. For the Godhead is annexed thereto; which although it be received with the body of Christ, yet it is not visible after a gross sort, and the flesh of Christ that we receive is lively; for it hath the Spirit of God join|ed to it. And if a man be drunken, it is not by receiving of the blood of Christ: for it is contrary to the nature of Christ's blood. If he be drunken, it is by the qualities and quantities, without sub|stance of blood.

Bland.

I am glad that you are so much against all men, to say that Christ's body is alive in the sa|crament; it may chance to bring you to the ••ruth in time to come. Methinks it is evil to keep Christ's body alive in the pix; or else must you grant, that he is alive in receiving, and dead in the pix. And you say truth, that it is not the natural receiving of Christ's blood that maketh a man drunken; for it is the nature of wine that doth that, which you deny not.

AND a greater truth you confess than you did think, when you said, If a man be drunken, it is by the qualities and quantities, without the substance of blood; for indeed blood hath no such qualities with it: by which it is evident that there is no na|tural blood.

IF a man be drunken with wine consecrated, it must be a miracle, as I think you will have it, that the said accidents should be without their natural substance, and work all the operations of both sub|stance and accidents: and so it followeth that a man may be drunken by miracle. The body that you receive, you say, is alive, because it is annexed to the Godhead; and the flesh that you receive is live+ly, because it hath the Spirit of God joined to it.

THIS division is of your new inventions, to di|vide the body and the flesh, the one alive by the Godhead, the other lively by God's Spirit, and both one sacrament: you make of it a thing so fantasti|cal, that you imagine a body without flesh, and flesh without a body; as you do qualities and quantities without substance, and a living body without quali|ties and quantities.

Milles.

If case so require, and there be a godly intent in the minister to consecrate, after the conse|cration thereof, there is present the body and blood of Christ, and no other substance, but accidents without substance to a true believer.

Bland.

You grant three absurdities, that in a tun of wine consecrated is nothing but accidents: and to increase it withal, you have brought in two incon|veniencies; first, that it is not the word of God that doth consecrate, but the intent of the priest must help it; and if that fail, you seem to grant no con|secration, though the priest speak the word; and yet your doctors say, that the wickedness of the priest diminisheth not the sacrament.

AND to an unbeliever you seem to say, that it is not the same, as it is to the true believer; and then must the believer have something to do in the con|secration. By endeavouring to avoid Charybdis you fall upon Scylla.

Milles.

The substance of Christ's body doth not fill the mouse's belly. For although he doth re|ceive the outward forms of bread and wine, yet he doth not receive the substance inwardly, but without violation And a mouse doth not eat the body of Christ▪ to speak properly; for it doth not feed him spiritually or corporally, as it doth man, because he doth not receive it to any inducement of immorta|lity to the flesh.

Bland.

You make not your doctrine plain to be understood: we must know how a mouse can re|ceive the substance inwardly and outwardly. You say he doth not receive the substance inwardly, but without violation: Ergo, with violation he receiv|eth the substance inwardly. You say that the mouse cannot violate Christ's body; but he violateth the substance that he eateth. And this your proper

speech doth import as much, as that the mouse should eat the sacrament to as great effect, and the same thing, as doth the unworthy receiver. For if that be the cause that she properly eateth not the body of Christ, because she doth not feed upon it spiritually nor corporally, nor receiveth it to be any inducement of immortality, as you say; then it fol|loweth, that the unbeliever and the mouse receive both one thing. And yet it cannot be denied, but the mouse will live with consecrated bread, and then you must grant this absurdity, that a substance is nourished and fed only without accidents.

Milles.

Men's bodies be fed with Christ's body, as with immortal meat, by reason of the Godhead annexed, to eternal life; but men's bodies be cor|porally nourished with qualities and forms of bread and wine: and we deny that by the sacramental eating any gross humour turned into blood is made miraculously in the body.

Bland.

Where it cannot be denied that a man may live, and naturally be nourished in his natural body with the sacramental bread and wine consecrated; you cannot avoid that: but then you turn to the spiritual nourishing of a man's body, by Christ's body and Godhead annexed, which is nothing to put away the absurdity, that either a man's natural body should be fed naturally with accidents, or else to have them changed into gross humours. But you say, men's bodies be corporally nourished with qua|lities and forms of bread and wine: and then must you needs grant, that qualities and quantities must be made substance in man. For by them our bo|dies are nourished, or else is all that is the nutriment in man, accidents and no substance.

Milles.

If the forms of bread and wine be burn|ed, or worms ingendered, it is no derogation to the body of Christ, because the presence of his body ceaseth to be there, and no substance cometh again.

Bland.

Ye grant here, that a substance may be made of accidents, as ashes or worms: but I think you will have it by your miracles, and this I count a greater absurdity than the other, that Christ's body should cease to be there, and no substance to come again; for no word in all the whole bible seems to serve you for the ceas••ng of his presence, though we granted you, which we do not, that it were ther••. God Almighty open your heart, if it be his will and pleasure, to see the truth. And if I thought not my death to be at hand, I would answer you to all the rest, in these and all other my doings.

I submit myself to our Saviour Jesus Christ, and his holy word, desiring you in the bowels of Christ to do the same.

Your orator in the Lord, JOHN BLAND.

The last Appearance and Examination of Mr. BLAND.

HITHERTO you have heard the troublesome handling of this faithful servant of God, John Bland, tost to and fro, from prison to prison, from session to session. At last he was brought be|fore the bishop of Dover, the commissary, and the archdeacon, at Canterbury, the 13th day of June. The name of this bishop was Richard Thornto••▪ The commissary was Robert Collins, whom the cardinal by his letters patent had substituted his agent, before his coming over to England. The archdeacon was Nicholas Harpsfield. Under th••s•• a great many innocent lambs of Christ was cruelly treated and barbarously slain at Canterbury, amongst whom the aforesaid Mr. Bland was one of the first▪ who, as it is said, being brought before the first bishop, and colleagues, which were John Franke••••, Nicholas Sheterden, Thomas Thacker, Humphrey Middleton, and William Cocker, were examined of articles. To whom it was objected by the com|missary, Whether he believed that Christ is really in the sacrament, or not, &c. To this he answered and said, that he believed, that Christ is in the sa|crament, as he is in all other good bodies; so that he judged not Christ to be really in the sacrament.

WHEREUPON the day being on Monday, he was bid to appear again upon Wednesday next, and from thence he was deferred again to Monday following, being the 20th of June, in the same chapter-house, then to hear further what should be done, in case he would not relent to their mind. Which day and place he appearing as before, was required to speak his mind plainly and fully to the aforesaid articles, being again repeated unto him. These articles, commonly and in course they usually objected to

their examinates which were brought before them, which articles, as here now followeth, need not hereafter be repeated, especially for the county of Kent.

Articles ministered by RICHARD, Bishop of Dover, to Mr. BLAND, and likewise to the rest following after him.

FIRST, That thou art of the diocese of Canter|bury, and so subject to the jurisdiction of the archbishop there.

2. Item, That thou art a christian man, and dost profess the laws of God, and faith of Christ's catho|lic church, and the determination of the same.

3. Item, That all persons who teach, preach, be|lieve, affirm, hold, maintain, or say within the dio|cese of Canterbury, otherwise than our holy mother the church doth, are excommunicate persons, and heretics, and as excommunicate and heretics ought to be named, reputed, and taken.

4. Item, That thou, contrary to the catholic faith and determination of our holy mother church, with|in the diocese of Canterbury, hast openly spoken, maintained, holden, affirmed, and believed, and yet dost hold, affirm, and believe, that in the blessed sacrament of the altar, under the forms of bread and wine, there is not the very body and blood of our Saviour Jesus Christ in substance, but only a token, sign, and remembrance thereof, and that the very body and blood of Christ is only in heaven, and no where else.

5. Item, That thou contrary to the catholic faith, and determination of our holy mo••her church, hast within this diocese of Canterbury openly spoken, said, maintained, holden, affirmed, and believed, and yet dost hold, maintain, affirm, and believe, that it is against God's word, that the sacrament of Christ's church should be ministered in an unknown tongue; and that no man with a safe conscience, or without peril of sin, receiveth any sacrament administered in any tongue that he understandeth not.

6. Item, That thou, contrary to the catholic faith of our holy mother church, hast, and yet dost hold opinion, and say, that it is against God's word, that the sacrament of the altar should be administered in one kind; and that no man may with a safe consci|ence so receive it.

7. Item, That the premises be true, and that there is a common fame upon them within the diocese of Canterbury.

The Answers of Mr. BLAND to the aforesaid Articles.

TO these articles Mr. Bland, answering again in order as they were objected to him, saith to the first, granting the same, that he was a priest, and of the diocese of Canterbury.

TO the second also he answereth affirmatively.

TO the third he answereth, that the article is true, meaning the catholic church to be Christ's church.

TO the fourth article he answered as touching the first part thereof, he doth confess, that he hath preached and taught it, as it is contained in the same. And as touching the second part of the article, he doth confess, that he doth now also hold and say, as he preached and taught before.

THE fifth article he granteth.

TO the sixth, he preached, held, and doth hold, as is contained in the article.

TO the last article he granteth the same, &c.

THIS done, and his answers and confession taken, respite was given him yet a few days to deliberate with himself. And on the 25th day of the said month of June he appeared again in the chapter-house, and there boldly and firmly withstood the authority of the pope; whereupon he was con|demned and committed to the secular power.

Mr. BLAND'S Prayer before his Death.

THE Lord Jesus, for whose love I do willingly leave this life, and desire rather the bitter death of his cross, with the loss of all earthly things, than to abide the blasphemy of thy holy name, or else to obey man in breaking thy com|mandments; thou seest, O Lord, that whereas I

might live in worldly wealth to worship false gods, and honour thy enemy, I chose rather the torments of this body, and loss of this my life, and have counted all things but vile dust and dung that I might win thee: which death is more dear to me than thousands of gold and silver. Such love, O Lord, hast thou laid up in my breast, that I hun|ger for thee, as the deer that is wounded desireth the soil. Send thy holy comforter, O Lord, to aid, comfort, and strengthen this weak piece of earth which is void of all strength of itself. Thou rememberest, O Lord, that I am but dust, and not able to do any thing that is good. Therefore, O Lord, as thou of thy accustomed goodness hast bidden me to this banquet, and counted me wor|thy to drink of thine own cup amongst thine elect; give me strength against this element, that as it is to my sight most irksome and terrible, so to my mind it may be at thy commandment, as an obe|dient servant, sweet and pleasant; and through the strength of thy Holy Spirit I may pass through the strength of this fire into thy bosom, according to thy promise, and for this mortality to receive im|mortality, and for this corruptible to put on incorruption. Accept this burnt offering and sa|crifice, O Lord, not for the sacrifice itself, but for thy dear Son's sake my Saviour; for whose testi|mony I offer this free-will offering with all my soul. O heavenly Father, forgive me my sins as I forgive the whole world. O sweet Saviour, spread thy wings over me. O God, grant me thy Holy Ghost, through whose merciful inspiration I am come hither. Conduct me unto everlasting life. Lord, into thy hands I commend my spirit; Lord Jesus receive my soul. So be it.

The History of JOHN FRANKESH, HUMPHREY MIDDLETON, and NICHOLAS SHETERDEN.

HAVING now passed over the examination of Mr. Bland, let us further proceed to the rest of his fellow prisoners, being joined the same time with him in the like cause and like affliction. The names of whom were, John Frankesh, Nicho|las Sheterden, Humphrey Middleton, Thacker, and Cocker, of whom Thacker only gave back. The rest constantly standing to the truth, were altogether condemned by the suffragan of Cant••r|bury, the 25th day of June the year above ex|pressed. Whose examinations I need not long dwell upon, forasmuch as the articles ministered against them were all one, so in their answers they little or nothing disagreed, as you shall hear here|after. In the mean time, because Nicholas She|terden in his examinations had a little more talk with the archdeacon and the commissary, I will first begin with him.

The first Examination or Reasoning of NICHOLAS SHETERDEN with Mr. Archdeacon HARPSFIELD and Mr. COLLINS, the Commissary, for which they sent him to Prison.

FIRST the archdeacon and commissary affirmed, that the very words of Christ, when he said, This is my body, did change the substance, with|out any other interpretation or spiritual meaning of the words.

Shet.

Then belike when Christ said, "This cup is my blood," the substance of the cup 〈◊〉〈◊〉 changed into his blood, without any other mean|ing, and so the cup was changed, and not the wine.

Harps.

Not so: for when Christ said, "This cup is my blood," he meant not the cup, but the wine in the cup.

Shet.

If Christ spake one thing, and meant another, then the bare words did not change the substance; but there must be a meaning sought as well of the bread, as of the cup.

Harps.

There must be a meaning sought of the cup otherwise than the words stand. But of the bread it must be understood only as it standeth, without any other meaning.

Shet.

Then do you make one half of Christ's institution a figure, or borrowed speech, and the other half a plain speech, and so you divide Christ's supper.

Harps.

Christ meant the wine, and not the cup, though he said, This cup is my blood.

Shet.

Then shew me whether the words which the priest speaks over the cup, do change the sub|stance, or whether the mind of the priest doth it?

Harps.

The mind of the priest doth it, and not the words.

Shet.

If the mind of the priest doth it, and not the words, if the priest then do mind his harlot, or any other vain thing, that thing so minded was there made, and so the people do worship the priest's harlot instead of Christ's blood: and again, none of the people can tell when it is Christ's blood, or when it is not, seeing the matter standeth in the mind of the priest. For no man can tell what the priest meaneth but himself; and so are they ever in danger of committing idolatry.

THEN was the archdeacon somewhat moved, and sat him down, and said to the commissary, I pray you, Mr. Commissary, to speak to him a while; for they are as unreasonable and perverse answers as ever I heard. Then the commissary stood up and said:

YOUR argument is much against yourself, for you grant that the bread is a figure of Christ's body; but the cup can be no figure of his blood, nor yet his very blood; and therefore Christ did not mean the cup, but the wine in the cup.

Shet.

My argument is not against me at all; for I do not speak it to prove that the cup is his blood, nor the figure of his blood, but to prove that the bare words being spoken by the priest do not change the substance any more of the bread, than they do change the cup into blood.

Commis.

It could not be spoken of the cup, when he said, This cup is my blood; but he meant the wine in the cup.

Shet.

Then it remaineth for you to answer my question to the archdeacon, that is, whether the mind of the priest, when he speaketh over the cup, doth change it into blood or the bare words?

Commis.

Both together do it, the words and the mind of the priest together; yea, the intent and the words together do it.

Shet.

If the words and intents together do change the substance, yet must the cup be his blood, and not the wine, forasmuch as the words are, "This cup is my blood," and the intent, you say, was the wine; or else the words take none effect, but the intent only.

AFTER, the commissary in his chamber said, it was the intent of the priest before he went to mass, without the words; for the priest did intend to do as holy church had ordained, then the intent made the sacrament to take effect.

Shet.

If the sacraments take effect of the intent of the priest, and not of God's word, then many parishes having a priest that intendeth not well, are utterly deceived, both in baptizing, and also wor|shipping that thing to be God, which is but bread, because for lack of the priest's intent, the words do take none effect in it; so that by this it is ever doubtful, whether they worship Christ or bread, because it is doubtful what the priests do intend.

THEN the commissary would prove to me, that Christ's manhood was in two places at one time, by these words of Christ in the third chapter of John, where he saith, "No man ascendeth up into heaven, but he that came down from heaven, even the Son of man which is in heaven." By this he would prove, that Christ was then in heaven, and on earth also, naturally and bodily.

Shet.

This and other places must needs be un|derstood for the unity of the person, in that Christ was God and man, and yet the matter must be re|ferred to the Godhead, or else you must fall into great error.

Commis.

That is not so: for it was spoken of the manhood of Christ, forasmuch as he saith, "The Son of man which is in heaven."

Shet.

If you will needs understand it to be spo|ken of Christ's manhood, then must you fall into the error of the Anabaptists, who deny that Christ took flesh of the virgin Mary; for if there be no body ascended up, but that which came down▪

where is then his incarnation? for then he brought his body down with him.

Commis.

Lo, how you seek an error in me, and yet ••ee not how you err yourself. For it cannot be spoken of the Godhead, except you grant that God is passable, for God cannot come down, because he is not passable.

Shet.

If that were a good argument, that God could not come down, because he is not passable; then it might be said by the like argument, that God could not sit, and then heaven is not his seat, and then say as some do, that God hath no right hand for Christ to sit at.

THEN the commissary affirmed plainly, that it was true God hath no right hand indeed.

Shet.

Oh what an injury to Christ's religion will this be, that because we cannot tell how God came down, therefore we shall say, that he came not down at all, and because we cannot tell what manner of hand he hath, to say that he hath no hand at all; and then he cannot reach the utmost parts of the sea. O misery! at length it will come to pass, that God cannot sit, and then how can heaven be his seat? and if heaven be not his seat, then there is no heaven; and then at length I doubt you will say there is no God, or else no other God but such as the heathen gods are, which cannot go nor feel.

Commis.

Why, doth not the scripture say, that God is a Spirit? and what hand can a Spirit have?

Shet.

Truth it is, God is a Spirit, and there|fore is worshipped in spirit and truth; and as he is a Spirit, so he hath a spiritual power, so he hath a spiritual seat, a spiritual hand, and a spiritual sword, which we shall feel, if we go on at this rate. Be|cause we know not what God hath, therefore if we say he hath none, then it may as well be said, there is no Christ.

THEN the commissary said, he would talk no more with me, and so departed; and also the com|missary was compelled to grant, that Christ's test|ament was broken, and his institution was changed from that he left it: but he said, they had power so to do.

My first Answering after their LAW was established.

BECAUSE I know you will desire to hear from me some certainty of my estate, I was called before the suffragan, and seven or eight of the chief priests, and examined of certain articles, and then I required to see their commission.

THEY shewed it to me, and said, there it is, and the king and queen's letters also. Then I desired to have it read: and so in reading I perceived, that on some notable suspicion he might examine upon two articles; Whether Christ's real presence were in the sacrament, and whether the church of En|gland be Christ's catholic church.

TO that I answered, that I had been a prisoner three quarters of a year, and as I thought, wrong|fully: reason would therefore that I should answer to those things for which I was imprisoned.

THE suffragan said, his commission was, that I must answer directly, yes or no.

THIS commission, said I, was not general to examine whom he will, but on just suspicion.

HE said, I was suspected, and presented to him.

THEN I required him to shew the accusation.

HE said he was not bound to shew it; but he commanded me in the king and queen's name to answer directly.

Shet.

I, as a subject, do require justice of you: for what I have done I ask no favour.

Suffragan.

You were suspected.

Shet.

Prove your suspicion, or shew what cause you have to suspect.

Suff.

Thou wert cast into prison for that cause.

Shet.

That was a pretty suspicion, because I

had suffered imprisonment contrary to God's law and realm, that therefore I must now for amends be examined of suspicion without cause, to hide all the wrong done to me before. For when I was cast into prison, there was no law that hindered me from speaking as I did: therefore in that point I could be no more suspected than you, who preach|ed the same yourself not long before.

Suff.

That was no matter to thee what I preach|ed.

Shet.

Well, yet in the king and queen's name I must answer directly: and therefore I require as a subject, that you do not extend beyond your com|mission, but prove me suspected, more than you yourself.

THEN Mr. Mills told them that I had written to my mother, and that he had seen the letter, wherein I persuaded my mother to my opinions.

Shet.

In that I did but my duty to certify her, that I was not in prison for any evil. And likewise that was before the law, and therefore no more suspi|cion was in me, than was in them that taught the like.

Mills.

Well, you are required here to answer directly.

Shet.

First then I require of you to prove this suspicion; and thus we tossed it to and fro. At last the bishop said, he himself did suspect me. I asked whereby?

Suff.

Well, I myself did suspect thee, and it is no matter whereby.

Shet.

But your commission doth not serve you so to do without cause of suspicion.

Suff.

Well, yet I did suspect you.

Shet.

It is not meet for you to be my accuser and my judge also, for that is too much for one man. And thus many words were multiplied, and they were much grieved.

Mills

If you were a christian man, you would not be ashamed of your faith being required.

Shet.

I am not ashamed indeed, I thank God, and if any man did come to me, either to teach or learn, I would declare it: but forasmuch as I per|ceive you come neither to teach nor to learn, I hold it best not to answer you.

Mills.

If you will not, then will we certify the king's council.

Shet.

I am therewith content that you should certify that I had suffered three quarters of a year wrongfully in prison, and therefore I desire to be justified or condemned, first for that I suffered such imprisonment; and then I will not refuse to answer your articles, though they were a bushel of them. But to say that I would answer, whereby you should heal all your wrong done to me against the law of God and the realm, I will not.

HERE much ado there was to prove that he had no wrong, and again, that it was not they that did it. But said he, the commissary was one of them. He answered No, and said it was the archdeacon. He said, you sat with him, and he asked your counsel in it, and yet if it were he, it was your church, except the archdeacon and you be divided one from another. Well, said they, Will you now deny what you said then, and promise here to submit yourself, and you shall be delivered?

Shet.

I am not so much beholden to you as to grant you any such promise: and you shall plainly see that I will not promise to go across the street for you: but if at any time I have offended your law, let me have the punishment: I ask no fa|vour.

THEN they said, it was obstinacy in him that he would not answer, and a token that his faith was naught, seeing he was ashamed to utter it.

NAY, said Sheterden, you well know I am not ashamed of my faith: but because you so greedily seek blood, I will answer only to that you have against me.

Suff.

Nay, you shall answer to the articles, or else be condemned upon suspicion.

Shet.

I am content with that, yet all men shall

know, that as you suspect and can prove no cause, so shall you condemn me without a matter, and then shall all men know you seek my blood, and no justice.

Suff.

No, we seek not thy blood, but thy con|version.

Shet.

That we shall see. For then shall you prove my perversion first, before you condemn me on your suspicion without proof of the same: and by that I shall know whether you seek blood or no. Many other words were between them.

AT last stept up one Lovels, a lawyer, who would prove his imprisonment not to be wrong, but right, by old statutes of Edward the fourth, and Henry, &c. but at last he was compelled to forsake those statutes from Michaelmas to Christmas, and then he said it was no wrong.

TO this Mr. Sheterden said, if he could prove that men might wrongfully imprison before a law, and in the mean while make laws, and then under that hide the first wrong, then he said true, or else not.

THUS he kept the band-dogs at staff's end, not as thinking to escape them, but that I would see, said he, the foxes leap above the ground for my blood if they can reach it, (so it be the will of God) yet we shall see them gape and leap for it.

From Westgate in haste.

By your's, NICHOLAS SHETERDEN.

His EXAMINATION before the Bishop of Winches|ter, then LORD CHANCELLOR.

I Was called into a chamber before the lord chan|cellor, the suffragan, and others, priests I think for the most part. He stood by the table, called me to him, and because I saw the cardinal was not there, I bowed myself and drew near.

THEN said he, I have sent for you because I hear you are indicted of heresy; and being called before the commissioners, you will not answer nor submit yourself.

I said, if it please you, I did not refuse to an|swer; but I did plainly answer that I had been in prison a long time, and reason it was that I should be charged or discharged of that, and not to be examined of articles to hide my wrong imprison|ment, neither did I know any indictment against me. If there were any, it could not be just, for I have not been abroad since the law was made.

THEN said the bishop of Winchester, Well, yet if such a suspicion be of you, if you be a christian, you will declare that it is not true, and so clear yourself.

Shet.

I thought it sufficient to answer to mine offences, &c. trusting that they would lay no such burden upon me, whereby the wrong done to me might be covered, but I would be proved to have wrong or right.

Winch.

If thou wilt declare thyself to the church to be a christian, thou shalt go, and then have a writ of wrong imprisonment, &c.

Shet.

I have no mind to sue now, but require right justice: but to make a promise, I will not; and if I offend the law, then punish me accordingly. For it might be that my conscience was not per|suaded, nor would be, in prison; seeing these things which I have learned, were by God's law openly taught and received by the authority of the realm. And he said, it was never received, that I might speak against the sacrament; I said that a|gainst some opinion of the sacrament it was openly taught.

Winch.

By no law, and that was not able to consider, that all that while God preserved that, so that no law could pass against it.

Shet.

I said their law did not only persuade me, but this most; when they preached unto us, they took pains to set out the word of God in our tongue, so that we may read and judge whether they say true or no, but now they take the light from us, and would have us believe it, because they say so, which is to me a great persuasion.

Winch.

It was not a few that could be your

guides in understanding, but the doctors and the whole church, now whom dost thou believe? either the few or many?

Shet.

I did not believe for the few or for the many, but only for him that bringeth the word, and shewed it to me to be so, according to the process thereof.

Winch.

Well, then, if an Arian come to thee with scripture, thou wilt believe him, if he shew this text, "My Father is greater than I."

Shet.

No, my lord, he must bring me also the contrary place, and prove them both true, where he saith, "My Father and I are one."

Winch.

Yea, that is by charity, as we are one with him.

Shet.

That gloss will not stand with the rest of the scripture, where he said, "I am the very same that I say to you;" he said the truth, and the truth was God, with more such like. And here he made many words, but very gently, of the sacra|ment. Likewise Christ said, said he, it was his body; yea, that is to say, a figure of his body; and how men did not consider that the Word was God, and God the Word, and so provoked me with such temptation; but I let him alone, and said nothing. So after many words, he came to the church's faith, and comely order of ceremonies and images. And then I joined to him again with the commandments.

Winch.

That was done that no false things should be made, as the heathen would worship a cat because she killed mice.

Shet.

It is plain that the law forbids not only such, but even to make an image of God in any manner or likeness.

Winch.

Where find you that?

Shet.

Forsooth, in the law where God gave them the commandments: for he said, "Ye saw no shape, but heard a voice only:" and added a reason why, "lest they should after make images and marr themselves;" so that God would not shew his shape, because they should have no image of him who was the true God, &c.

Winch.

You have made a goodly interpretation.

Shet.

No, it is the text.

THEN the bible was called for, and when it came he bid me find it, and I should presently be con|founded with my own words; so that if there were any grace in me, I should no longer trust to my own judgment; and when I looked, it was Latin.

Winch.

Why, can you read no Latin?

Shet.

No. Then was the English bible brought. He bade me find it; and so I read it aloud: and then he said, Lo here thou mayst see; this is no more to forbid the image of God, than of any other beast, fowl, or fish,

(the place was Deut. iv.)

I said it did plainly forbid to make any of these as an im|age of God, because no man might know what shape he was of. Therefore might no man say of any image, this is an image of God.

Winch.

Well, yet by your leave, so much as was seen we may, that is, of Christ, of the Holy Ghost, and the Father appeared to Daniel like an old man.

Shet.

That is no proof that we may make ima|ges contrary to the commandment; for though the Holy Ghost appeared like a dove, yet was he not like in shape, but in certain qualities; and therefore when I saw the dove, which is God's creature, in|deed I might remember the Spirit to be simple and loving, &c. and with that he was somewhat moved, and said, I had learned my lesson, and asked who taught me, with many words; and he said he would prove how good and profitable images were to teach the unlearned, &c.

Shet.

At last I said, My lord, although I were able to make ever so good a gloss upon the com|mandments, yet obedience is better than all our good intents, and much ado we had. At last he said, he saw what it was, and that he had sent for me for charity sake to talk with me, but now he would not meddle; and said, my wrong imprison|ment could not excuse me, but I must clear my|self.

Shet.

I said that was easy for me to do, for I had not offended.

Winch.

He said I could not escape so, there I was deceived.

Shet.

Well, then, I am under the law, &c.

THE archdeacon was then called in, and he said, that I behaved myself before him with such arro|gancy and stoutness, as never was heard; whereas he was minded with such mercy towards me, &c. and many other lies he laid to me, that I was sent home till another time, and I would not be content|ed, but went out of the church with such an out-cry as was notable.

Shet.

I declare that herein he falsely reported me, and brought in the laws then in the realm, and the queen's proclamation, that none of her subjects should be compelled till the law were to compel; and that I rehearsed the same in the court for me, and I did use him then, said I, as I use your grace now, and no otherwise.

Winch.

He said that I did not use myself very well now.

Shet.

I said I had so offered myself to be bailed, and to confer with them when and where they would.

Winch.

He said I should not confer, but be obe|dient. I said, let me go, and I will not desire to confer neither: and when I offend, let them punish me, and so departed.

By your brother, NICHOLAS SHETERDEN.

The last Examination, with the Condemnation of Mr. JOHN BLAND, J. FRANKESH, N. SHETERDEN, and H. MIDDLETON.

AND thus much touching the particular and several examinations of Mr. Sheterden and Bland. Now to touch something also of the other martyrs, who were examined the same time, and suffered together with them, to wit, Humphry Middleton, of Ashford, and John Frankesh, vicar of Rolvynden, in the diocese of Kent, above men|tioned; here first should be declared the articles, which publicly in their last examinations were joint|ly and severally ministered unto them by the afore|said Thornton, bishop of Dover; but forasmuch as these articles being ordinary and of course, are al|ready expressed in the story of Mr. Bland, it is not therefore needful to make any new rehearsals thereof.

THE seven articles being propounded to the per|sons above-named, to wit, John Frankesh, John Bland, Nicholas Sheterden, Humphry Middleton, and one Thacker; John Frankesh first answered somewhat doubtfully, desiring further respite to be given him of fourteen days to deliberate with him|self, which was granted. Mr. Bland answered flatly and roundly, as you heard before. Nicholas She|terden and Humphry Middleton, answered to the first and second articles affirmatively. To the third concerning the catholic church after a sort they granted. To the fourth, fifth, and sixth, concern|ing the real presence, and the sacrament to be ad|ministered in the Latin tongue, and in one kind, they utterly refused to answer. Sheterden said, he would not answer thereto before the cause were de|termined why he was imprisoned, and so still re|mained prisoner, before the laws of parliament received, &c. Middleton added moreover and confessed, that he believed in his own God, saying, My living God, and no dead god, &c. Thacker only relented, and was content to take penance. Thus the aforesaid four upon these answers were condemned by the bishop of Dover the 25th day of June, 1555.

AND being delivered to the secular power, they were all four burnt together at Canterbury the 12th of July, at two several stakes, but in one fire, where they in sight of God and of his angels, and before men, like true soldiers of Jesus Christ, gave a con|stant testimony to the truth of the gospel.

Mr. NICHOLAS SHETERDEN'S Prayer before his Death.

O Lord my God and Saviour, who art Lord in heaven and earth, maker of all things visible and invisible, I am the creature and work of thy hands; Lord God, look upon me and other thy

people, who at this time are oppressed by the worldly-minded for thy law's sake; yea, Lord, thy law it|self is now trodden under foot, and men's inven|tions exalted above it, and for that cause do I, and many thy creatures, refuse the glory, praise, and conveniences of this life, and do chuse to suffer adversity, and to be banished, yea, to be burnt with the books of thy word, for the hope's sake that is in store. For, Lord, thou knowest, if we would but seem to please men in things contrary to thy word, we might by their permission enjoy these ad|vantages that others do, as wife, children, goods, and friends, all which I acknowledge to be thy gifts, given to the end that I may serve thee. And now, Lord, that the world will not suffer me to enjoy them, except I offend thy laws, behold I give unto thee my whole spirit, soul, and body; and lo, I leave here all the pleasures of this life, and do now leave the use of them for the hope's sake of eternal life purchased in Christ's blood, and promised to all them that fight on his side, and are content to suffer with him for his truth, whensoever the world and the devil shall persecute the same.

O Father, I do not presume to come unto thee trusting in mine own righteousness; no, but only in the merits of thy dear Son my Saviour. For which excellent gift of salvation I cannot worthily praise thee, neither is my sacrifice worthy, or to be accepted with thee, in comparison of our bodies mortified, and obedient unto thy will: and now, Lord, whatsoever rebellion hath been, or is found in my members against thy will, yet do I here give my body to death, rather ••han I will use any strange worshipping, which I beseech thee accept at my hand for a pure sacrifice: let this torment be to me the last enemy destroyed, even death, the end of misery, and the beginning of 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ peace, and so|lace: and when the time of resurrection cometh, then let me enjoy again these members glorified, which now be spoiled and consumed by the fire. O Lord Jesus receive my spirit into thy hands. A|men.

LTTER I. From Mr. SHETERDEN to his MOTHER.

AFTER my humble and bounden duty remembered, well-beloved mother, this shall be to with you in|crease of grace and godly wisdom, that you may see and perceive the crafty bewitching of Satan our mortal enemy, who as I have divers times declared unto you, doth not openly shew himself in his own likeness, but under a colour of devotion deceiveth them that keep not a diligent eye upon him; but having confidence in men's traditions and customs of the world, leaving the commandments of God and testament of his Son Christ Jesus our Lord, do grow more into superstition and hypocrisy, than into wisdom and true holiness. For this is most true, that Satan, the enemy of Souls, doth by his ministers make many believe, that those things which they compel us unto for their bellies' sake, have many godly significations, although they be most contrary to God's will, as doubtless they be, even as the serpent did in paradise to our first mother Eve. What, said he, hath God commanded you shall not eat of the trees in the garden? The woman said, of the fruits of the trees in the garden we may eat: but of the tree in the midst of the garden, said God, see ye eat not, left ye die." Even so our ministers now-a-days, say, Hath God commanded you shall not make you any image or likeness of any thing? Yea, forsooth. Tush, say they, what harm can they do? May we not remember God the better, when we see his image or picture? For they are good books for the lay-men; but indeed they be better for the priests, be|cause they receive the offerings.

AND look how truly the promise of the serpent was kept with Eve, so is the persuasion of our priests found true with us. For as Adam and Eve did become like God in know|ing good and evil, so are we in remembering God by his image. For Adam's eyes were so open, that he lost both innocency and righteousness, and was become the most miserable of all creatures: and even we remember Christ so well by images that we forget his commandments, and count his testament, confirmed in his blood, for stark mad|ness or heresy; so miserably have we remembered him, that of all people we are most blind: and this doth follow upon our presumption, when we remember God by breaking his law; and therefore surely except we repent, shortly God will remember us with his plagues, as sure as there is a God it will come to pass.

BUT (I thank God) I know their craftiness herein, who will say, Where went he to school? Is he wiser than our great doctors that studied all their lives? And lo, they say that it is good hay; although we smell it musty ourselves, yet we must believe it sweet, and then pay them well for their so saying, and all is safe. But I might say again, What, sir, be you wiser than Christ, and God his Father, and the Holy Ghost? What, wiser than the prophets, and the holy apostles, and all the holy martyrs? I pray you, sir, where had you your high learning? Is it higher than God (be|ing in heaven) is able to teach, or have you set it lower in hell, than ever Christ durst to venture? For methinks it is some strange learning, that Christ and his apostles could never attain to the knowledge of it. But vain men are

never without some shift: for peradventure they will not be ashamed to say, that Christ coming on his Father's mes|sage, did forget half his errand by the way: for I dare say, that the greater half of their ceremonies were never com|manded by Christ▪ yea, I doubt it would be hard to find one in the church, perfectly as he left: so Romishly hath Antichrist turned the church upside down for lucre's sake.

BELOVED mother, as I have oftentimes said unto you, even so now I beseech you from my very heart in Christ, to consider your own soul's health is offered to you, do not cast it off: we have not long time here. Why should we deceive ourselves either for ease of our flesh, or for gaining the trea|sures of this world: I know that some will say to you, Why should we condemn our fathers who lived thus? God for|bid that we should condemn any that did according to their knowledge. But let us take heed that they condemn not us, for if they heard the word as we have, and had been warned as we have been, it is to be thought that they would more thankfully have received it than we do: yea, they were more faithful in what they knew, than many now are. Therefore they shall be our condemnation, if we do not embrace this grace that is now offered to us. And surely look how many of them God will accept and save, those shall we never see, nor have any part among them; for our dis|obedience is greater than was their ignorance. Wherefore if we will meet our fathers in bliss and joy, let us not refuse his mercy offered to us more largely than to them, even according to Christ's promise, which said, after such great ignorance as to seek him from country to country, and find him not; yet shall the gospel, saith he, be preached in all the world, and then shall the end come.

AND now let us know the time of our visitation, and not turn back again, seeing we are once delivered: for surely God will not bear it at our hands to turn backward. O remember Lot's wife. God must needs punish our back|sliding, either with induration and hardness of heart, so that they shall persecute his church and his true servants, or else reward it with open vengeance and plagues. And therefore, good mother, accept this my simple letter as a fruit of my love and obedience to you. Would God we might be so knit in faith and trust in God's word and pro|mises here in this life, as we might together enjoy the bliss and consolation of eternal life; which I desire and seek above all worldly treasure, as you partly know. If I would seek the good will of men contrary to my conscience, I could make some my friends which now peradventure are jealous over me amiss. But thank God, let them weigh the matter between God and their consciences, and they have no just cause so to do. Nevertheless I wish they would yet refrain, and put their matter and mine into the ballance of God's most holy word, there to be weighed by the mind of the Holy Ghost, expressed unto us by the holy patriarchs and prophets, and Jesus Christ our only Saviour and me|diator, and by his holy apostles, and then I doubt not but our matter shall be ended with peace and joyfulness of heart; which God grant us for his mercy sake. Amen.

Your own child, Prisoner for the truth in Westgate, 1555. NICHOLAS SHETERDEN.

LETTER II. To his Brother WALTER SHETERDEN.

I Wish you health in Christ, true knowledge of his word, and a faithful heart unto the same. It is shewed me▪ my brother, that you desired me by a letter made to a friend of your's to persuade me to be ruled by my uncle, who saith, he will bestow his goods very largely upon me, if I would not stand too high in mine own conceit. But, my good brother, I hope you do not judge so evil of me, that I should have a faith to sell for money. For though he or you were able to give me the treasure of the whole country, yet I thank my Lord God, I do judge it but an heap of dung, in respect of the treasure hid within; yet I do esteem a buckle of your shoe, if it come in good will. And for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 be counselled and ruled by him or you, or any other of my friends, I do not, neither have refused it, if they require 〈◊〉〈◊〉 more of me than what is in my power, and that which be|longeth to a mortal man. But if they require of me any thing which appertaineth to God d••ly, there is neither high or low, friend or foe, that shall g••t it from me, nor yet 〈◊〉〈◊〉 angels in heaven.

FOR though I be not learned, (as the vain men of the world call learning) yet thanks be to God, I have learned out of God's book to know him from his creatures, and Christ from his sacraments, and to make a difference be|tween the merits of Christ's passion and his supper, and a difference between the water of baptism and the Holy Ghost, and not mix and mingle all things confusedly toge|ther: so that if one ask me a question or a reason of my faith, I must say thus, I believe as the holy church believe••••▪ if he ask me what is the order of that faith, I should be so ignorant that I could not discern God from his creatures, nor Christ from his sacraments. If I should so monstro••s|ly utter my faith, that I were not able to judge between Christ's birth and his burial•• nor, which were first, of his mortification, and his glorification, who would believe that my ••aith were sound?

FOR some do affirm that Christ did not give to his apos|tles a mortal and a passable body, but an immortal and g••••|••rified body, so that he should have a glorified body before his death, and so his glorification was before his resurrec|tion; and that he was risen before he was crucified, and crucified before his baptism; and then they may as well say he was baptized before his birth, and born before he was conceived, and conceived before he was promised, and that were even right Antichrist to turn all things backward, and

then say, O you must believe, for God is mighty, he can do all things, &c. Truth it is, that God is almighty in|deed, and yet I may not believe thing•• contrary to his word, that Christ's body was glorified before he died: for God's omnipotency doth not stand in things contrary to his will, but in performing his will at his pleasure in time. N••ither doth he require of us to judge or believe of his almighty power, that he hath made the end of the world to come before the beginning, or yet the fruit to come before the blossom, and yet he is nevertheless almighty.

BUT if peradventure you shall think with yourself, Why, they are learned; it were marvel but they should know what is the truth, as well as others which never kept any such study, &c. To that I answer, that if they had studied God's word, the author of truth, as they have done logic, and Du••••, with the legend of lies, they should have been as expert in the truth, as they now be in b••ld reasons. But thus hath God fulfilled his promise, that such should be deluded with lies, who would not believe nor walk in his truth.

AND again, this is a good cause to make us think sure|ly, that it was the cause that God gave them over at the 〈…〉〈…〉 ••rror, after the apostles time by little, as they grew in sin. For seeing we had his truth now among us a few y••••rs, because we did not obey it, we see what a sudden change God hath brought upon us, for the sake of our sins. And why should we not think that this and such like dis|obedience was the cause that God took his word from all Christendom at the first, and cast a darkness upon all them that would not walk in his light? For it is evident enough to see how unlike their doings be to Christ and his apostles: and that seen, either we must judge Christ'•• doings very ••••ender, and their's good, or else that they be indeed the very Antichrists, who should come and turn all things out of frame. Thus I have been bold to trouble you, which I hope will not be altogether in vain. Pray for me, as I do for you.

Your brother, Prisoner for the truth in Westgate, NICHOLAS SHETERDEN.

LETTER III. From Mr. SHETERDEN to his WIFE.

I Wrote unto you as one that longed more to hear of your health, than of all worldly treasure, willing you to intreat Esau the elder brother by nature gently, gi••••ng to him his own, yea, and offer him one of the droves, and say they be Jacob's, and are a present for my lord Esau, but he will not take it, &c. Now my beloved, you know the blessing of our Father is, that the elder shall serve the younger, and wisdom, our mother, hath taught us the same, and I know you do complain of your servant the flesh, that he is rebellious, disobedient, and untoward; unruly and crookedly you think he doth his service: but yet be|hold, how shall you plead your cause before an indifferent judge? For if it be true that his service be not according to his duty, as it is many times found in servants; yet, I say, can you shew your cause to no indifferent judge, but he shall object against you that he is not kept like a ser|vant, but he lacketh both meat and and drink, and other necessaries meet and due for a servant: so shall you take more shame of your own complaint than remedy or advan|tage against your servant, and it shall be a cloak for him to hide all his rebellion and u••••••oward service because you have misused him.

AND therefore my sentence is, that you patiently bear with him in small faults, and amend your own great faults, as oppression, cruelty, and covetousness, requiring more than a servant can do, especially being tired with labour, starved with ••unger, and l••••ed with stripes. And these things amended, if he do his service negligently, (as no doubt sometimes he will) yet then you may boldly correct him with discretion, and sometimes if he do not his task, you make him go to bed supperless: but yet beat him not with durable strokes, neither with-hold his meat in due time, and pinch him not by the belly continually, but let him have some|thing to joy in: only watch him, and keep him from doing of harm. Though he be but a stranger in the life that is in God; yet be good to strangers, for we are all strangers in darkness, and captives in sin, as well soul and spirit, being in Egypt, as now the ••••esh is yet unbaptized with the terrible red sea of death, and remember that one law abideth for the stranger, I mean one reward abideth for body and soul in the land of everlasting rest. And therefore intreat him gently, and deal with him justly now; for the time will come that the yoke of bondage shall be taken from his neck, and he shall be a fellow-heir with your younger brother.

CIRCUMCISE him therefore, but do not misuse him, nor keep him from his own, but deal mercifully with the stranger, that he may say, Oh of what understanding heart i•• this people: who hath God? or where is God so nigh as to these? God make you wise and politic in heart, vic|torious in the field of this world, to rule the nations with a rod: but kill not the Gibeonites, with whom peace is taken; but let them draw water, and hew wood, but give them their meat and drink due for labourers, and be glad because your disease is so remedied; for it is better and easier for a labouring man to drink, than for a drunken man to tell a sober tale. Yea, it is a token that you have earnestly followed your labour, and not kept company with drunkards and belly-gods; and therefore be glad, I say, yea, and be glad again, for great is your reward in heaven; yea, blessed shall they be, that in this your 〈◊〉〈◊〉 shall meet you, and withdraw your ••and from revenging

yourself upon that churlish Nabal: which thing I hope to do now with these sweet raisins, and frails of figs, I being of one house with your servant Nabal, I dare say to you that churlishness is his name: but revenge not, for the lord shall do it in his due time. Farewel mine own heart.

Your's in bonds at Westgate, NICHOLAS SHETERDEN.

THE next day after the condemnation of these aforesaid, which was the 26th day of July, W. Co|ker, W. Hopper, of Crambrooke, Henry Laurence, Richard Wright, of Ashford, and W. Stere, of Ash|ford, were lik••••••se condemned for the same articles. But because the execution of these martyrs pertain|eth not to this month, more shall be said of them when we come to the following month of August.

A brief Account of NICHOLAS HALL and CHRISTO|PHER WAID.

THE same month of July, Nicholas Hall, brick|layer, and Christopher Waid, of Dartford, suffered death, who were condemned by Maurice bishop of Rochester about the last day of June. The six articles administered to them were of the same ordinary course and effect with the other articles above specified, the brief sum whereof were these.

1. FIRST, That they were christian men and pro|fessed the catholic determinations of our holy mother church.

2. THAT they which maintain or hold otherwise than our holy mother the catholic church doth, are heretics.

3. THAT they hold and maintain, that in the sa|crament of the altar, under the forms of bread and wine, is not the very body and blood of Christ. And that the said very body of Christ is verily in heaven only, and not in the sacrament.

4. THAT they have and do hold and maintain, that the mass, as it is now used in the catholic church, is naught and abominable.

5. THAT they have been, and be amongst the people of that jurisdiction vehemently suspected up|on the premises, and thereupon indicted, &c.

TO these articles they answered as follows: 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Granting themselves christian men, and ackn••••|ledging the determination of the holy church, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 is, of the congregation or body of Christ; save that Hall denied to call the catholic and apostolic church his mother, because he found not this word Mother in the scriptures.

TO the second they granted. To the third a••••••|cle as touching the very body and blood of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to be under the forms of bread and wine in s••••|stance they would not grant, only affirming the very body of him to be in heaven, and the sacrament•• be a token or remembrance of Christ's death; ••••|cholas Hall adding moreover, and saying, Th•••• whereas before he held the sacrament to be only •• token or remembrance of Christ's death, now 〈◊〉〈◊〉 said, that there is neither token nor remembr••••••••▪ because it is now misused and clean turned from Christ's institution, &c. And concerning the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the fourth article, to be abominable, Christop•••••• Wa••d, with the other, answered, that as they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 confussed before, so they would not now go 〈◊〉〈◊〉 what they had said. To the fifth article, for the people's suspicion they made no great account 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sticking to grant the same.

AND thus much concerning the articles and ••••|swers of these good men. Which being recei•••••• immedia••ely sentence of condemnation was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 by the sai•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the bishop against them the copy of which sentence as it runneth much af•••••• the common course in condemning all the other servants of Christ▪ so the same being exempli•••••••• before, needeth not here to be repeated. Nichol•••• Hall was burnt at Rochester about the 19th 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of July.

FURTHERMORE, with the aforesaid Hall and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the same month of July, three others were con|demned by Maurice bishop of Rochester, wh••••e names were Jo••n Beach, widow, John Harpol, of Rochester, and Margery Polley. Of which Mar|gery Polley, touching her examination and ••••••|demnation here followeth an account.

Condemnation of MARGERY POLLEY, Widow and Martyr.

MARGERY POLLEY, widow, sometime wife of Richard Polley of Pepingbery, was accused and brought before the said Maurice bishop of Rochester, about the beginning of the month of June. Which bishop, according to the pontifical solemnity of that church, rising up out of the chair of his majesty, in the high swelling stile after his ordinary manner to dash the silly poor woman, be|gan in these words▪

"WE Maurice, by the sufferance of God▪ bishop of Rochester, proceeding of our mere office in a cause of heresy, against thee Margery Polley, of the parish of Pepingbery, of our diocese and jurisdiction of Rochester, do lay and object against thee all and singula•• these articles ensuing To which, and to every parcel of them, we require of thee a true, full, and plain answer, by virtue of thine oath thereupon to be given," &c.

THUS the oath being first administered, and the articles commenced against her, which articles were the same that were ministered to Nicholas Hall and Waid before, she so framed her answers again, espe|cially answering to the third and fourth article, that she neither allowed the deity of their sacrament, nor the absurdity of their mass. For which sentence was read against her about the beginning of June, and she condemned for the same. But because her death followed no•• upon the same, we will therefore defer the transaction thereof to the due place and time, first setting down in order of history the exe|cution of Christopher Waid before mentioned.

The Martyrdom of CHRISTOPHER WAID.

CHRISTOPHER WAID, of Dartford in the coun|ty of Kent, linen-weaver, was condemned, by Maurice bishop of Rochester, and appointed to be burnt at Dartford aforesaid. At the day appointed for his execution, which was in the month of July, there was carried out of town betimes in the morn|ing in a cart, a stake, and therewith many bundles of reeds, to a place a quarter of a mile out of town, ca••••ed the Brimth, into a gravel-pit thereby, the common place for the execution of felons. Thither also was brought a load of broom faggots, with other faggots and tall wood. Unto which place the people of the country resorted in great numbers, and there waited his coming; insomuch that divers fruiterers came thither with horse loads of cherries, and sold them. About ten o'clock the sheriff came riding with a great many other gentlemen and retinue, ap|pointed to assist him therein, and with them Chri|stopher Waid, Margery Polley, of Tunbridge, riding pinioned by him, both singing of a psalm; which Margery, as soon as she espied afar off the multitude gathered about the place where they should suffer, waiting their coming•• she said unto Waid very loud and chearfully. You may rejoice, to see such a company gathered to celebrate your marriage this day.

AND so passing by the place, which joined to the high-way, they were straightway carried down to the town, where she was kept till the sheriff return|ed from Waid's execution. Mr. Waid being made ready, and stripped of his cloaths in an inn, a fair long white shirt was brought unto him from his wife, which being put on, and he pinioned, was led on foot again to the aforesaid place. When he was come to the stake, he took it in his arms, and ki••••ed it, setting his back unto it, and standing in a pitch barrel which was ta••en from the beacon, being hard by; then a smith brought a hoop of iron, and with two staples made him fast to the ••take under his arms.

AS soon as he was thus settled, with his eyes and hands lifted up to heaven, he spake with a chearful and loud voice the last verse of the 86th Psalm: "Shew some good token upon me, O Lord, that they which hate me may see it, and be ashamed: because thou, Lord, hast helped me, and comforted me." Near to the stake was a little hill, upon the top whereof were set up four stays, quadrangle-wise, with a covering round about like a pulpit: into which place as Waid was thus praying at the stake, entered a friar with a book in his hand; whom when Waid espied, he cried earnestly unto the peo|ple, to take heed of the doctrine of the whore of Babylon, exhorting them to embrace the doctrine of the gospel preached in king Edward's days. While he was thus speaking to the people, the sheriff interrupted him, saying, Be quiet, Waid, and die patiently. I am quiet, said he, I thank God,

Mr. Sheriff, and so trust to die. All this while the friar stood still looking over the coverlet, as though he would have uttered somewhat: but Waid migh|tily admonished the people to beware of that doc|trine; which when the friar perceived, whether he was amazed, or could have no audience of the people, he withdrew out of the place immediately, without speaking any word, and went away down to the town. Then the reeds being set about him, he pulled them, and embraced them in his arms, al|ways with his hands making a hole against his face, that his voice might be heard, which his tor|mentors perceiving, they ••ast faggots at the same hole; but notwithstanding he still, as he could, put them off, his face being hurt with the end of a fag|got cast thereat. Then fire being put unto him, he cried unto God often, Lord Jesus receive my soul; without any token or sign of impatience in the fire, till at length after the fire was thoroughly kindled, he was heard by no man to speak, still holding up his hands together over his head towards heaven, even when he was dead and altogether roasted, as though they had been stayed up with •• prop stand|ing under them.

THIS sign did God shew upon him, whereby his very enemies might perceive, that God had, accord|ing to his prayer, shewed such a token upon him, even to their shame and confusion. And thus was the order of this godly martyr's execution, this was his end. Whereby God seemed to confound and strike with the spirit of dumbness the friar, that locust which was risen up to have spoken against him: and also no less wonderfully sustained those hands which he lifted up to him for comfort in his torment.

The Apprehension, Examination, Condemnation, and Burning of DIRICK CARVER, and JOHN LAUNDER, who suffered Martyrdom for the Testimony of the Gospel.

THE 22d day of July, Dirick Carver, late of the parish of Brighthel••stone in the county of Sussex, was burnt at Lewes in the said county. And the day following John Launder, late of God|stone in the county of Surry, was burnt at Stening. These two men were, with others, about the l••tter end of the month of October, in the year 1554, ap|prehended by Edward Gage, gentleman, as they were at prayers in the dwelling-house of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Dirick, and by him were sent-up to the quee••'s council, who, after examination, sent them as pri|soners to Newgate, there to attend the leisure of Bonner bishop of London. From whence (upon the bishop's receipt of a letter from the Lord ••••••|quis of Winchester, now lord treasurer) they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 brought by the keeper of the prison on the 8th of June next after into the bishop's chamber at 〈◊〉〈◊〉 house in London; and there, being examined upon divers points of religion, they made their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 confessions, subscribing and signing them with their own hands: which being read, the bishop obj•••••••• to them certain other articles, causing them to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 truly and directly their answers thereunto; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 articles they confessed to be true, referring 〈◊〉〈◊〉 selves chiefly to their former confessions.

THIS done, after long persuas••ons and fair ••••|hortations, they were demanded whether they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 stand to their answer••▪ To wh••m Launder 〈◊〉〈◊〉 will never go from these answers as long as I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 The other also confirmed the same, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 they were commanded to appear again b••fo••e 〈◊〉〈◊〉 bishop in the consistory at St. Paul's the tenth 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of the same month. Which articles and confess•••••• with the forementioned letter, do here ensue.

A LETTER From the Marquis of WINCHESTER, Lord Tre••••••••▪ to BONNER, Bishop of London, touching the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 nation of the said Prisoners.

AFTER my right hearty commendation 〈◊〉〈◊〉 your good lordship, I shall not forget 〈◊〉〈◊〉 livery of black against this time; no more I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Mr. Dean, to whom I wrote to make the ser•••••• who must now assuredly do it: for my lord of C••••••chester cannot attend it. To whom I have 〈◊〉〈◊〉 like knowledge by my letter now sent: and you•• lordship must command the sextons of your 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to be in readiness for ringing in the time of ser•••••• And if you be not furnished with black appa••el 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the altar, and for the priest, deacon, and sub-〈◊〉〈◊〉

I must have knowledge thereof, that it may be taken of the queen's stuff, whereof I pray you let me be advertised.

AND you have sent Bradford to Newgate, as a man convicted of heresy before you; but I per|ceive you have not sent me a significavit, and there|fore you must send one, that I may proceed with him, and that shall I do, as soon as I am answered by you.

THERE be divers like prisoners that came from Sussex, that be not yet examined before you, lying now in Newgate, who must be ex••••ined by you, since they be come to London, and so I pray they may be, and I certified of your proceedings, that I may follow, which I shall do, thanking your lord|ship heartily for my conies, trusting to recompense your lordship again shortly with twice as many. From my house this 7th of June, 1555.

Your loving friend, WINCHESTER.

The Confession of DIRICK CARVER, before BONNER, Bishop of London.

DIRICK CARVER, beer-brewer, of Bright|helmstone, in the county of Sussex, where he hath dwelt about eight or nine years, born in the village of Dilson by Stockom, in the land of Luke, about forty years of age, and now prisoner in New|gate, wher•• he hath remained and continued at the council's commandment, since Alhallows day last past, being examined concerning his faith and belief in the sacrament of the altar, saith, that he hath and doth believe•• that the very substance of the body and blood of Christ is not in the said sacrament, and that there is no other substance remaining in the said sacrament after the words spoken by the priest, but only the substance of bread and wine.

ITEM, Being examined concerning the mass in Latin now used in the church of England, he be|lieveth, that there is no sacrifice in the ••••ass, and that there is in it no salvation for a christian man, except it should be said in the mother tongue, that he might understand it; and concerning the cere|monies of the church, he saith and believeth, tha•• they be not profitable to a christian man.

ITEM, Being examined concerning auricular con|fession, he answereth, That he hath believed, and doth believe, that it is necessary to go to a good priest for good counsel; but the absolution of the priest, laying his hand upon any man's head, as is now used, is nothing profitable to a christian man's salvation. And further he saith, that he hath not been confessed, nor received the sacrament of the altar, since the coronation of the queen that now is.

ITEM, Concerning the faith and religion now taug••••, set forth, and believed in the church of En|gland, he answereth and believeth, that the faith and doctrine now taught, set forth, and used in the said church of England, is not agreeable to God's word. And furthermore he saith, that bishop Hooper, Cardmaker, Rogers, and others of their opinion, who were lately burnt, were good christian men, and preached the true doctrine of Christ, as he believeth; and saith, that they shed their blood in the same doctrine, which was by the power of God, as he saith and believeth.

AND further being examined, he saith, That since the queen's coronation, he hath had the bible and psalter read in his house at Brighthelmstone divers times, and likewise since his coming to Newgate: but the keeper hearing thereof, took them away; and also said, about a twelvemonth ago, he had the English pr••cession said in his house, with other En|glish prayers. And further said, That Thomas Iveson, John Launder, and William Vesi••, being prisoners with him in Newgate, were taken with this examinate in his house at Brighthelmstone, as they were hearing the gospel then read in English, a little before Alhallows-day last, and brought into the court: and being examined thereupon by the council, were committed by them to prison in New|gate.

The Confession of JOHN LAUNDER, before BON|NER, Bishop of London.

JOHN LAUNDER, of the parish of Godstone, in the county of Surry, husbandman, aged 25 〈◊〉〈◊〉, born at Godstone aforesaid, being examined, doth confess and say, That about two days before last Alhallow-tide, this examinate and one Dirick Carve••, Thomas Iveson, William Vesi••, with di|vers

other persons, to the number of twelve, (be|ing all together at their prayers, saying the service in English, set forth in the time of king Edward the Sixth, in the house of the said Dirick Carver, situated 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Brighthelmstone in Sussex) were appre|hended by one Mr▪ Gage, and by him sent up to London to the king and queen's council▪ and by then (upon his examination) committed to Newgate, where he and his said fellows have ever since remained.

AND further being examined, he doth confess and say, that the occasion of his coming to the said Brighthelmstone, was upon some business there to be done for his father: and so being there, and hearing that the said Dirick was a man that did much favour the gospel, this examinate did resort to his house and company, whom before that time he did never see or know, and by reason of that his resort he was apprehended as before. And further doth confess and believe, that there is here on earth one whole and universal catholic church, whereof the members be dispersed through the world; and doth believe also, that the same church doth set forth and teach only two sacraments, namely, the sacrament of baptism, and the sacrament of the sup|per of our Lord. And whosoever doth teach or use any more sacraments, or yet any ceremonies, he doth not believe that they be of the catholic church, but doth abhor them from the bottom of his heart. And doth further say and believe, that all the service, sacrifices and ceremonies, now used in this realm of England (yea, and in all other parts of the world, which have been used after the same manner) be erroneous and naught, and con|trary to Christ's institution, and the determination of Christ's catholic church, whereof he believeth that he himself is a member.

ALSO he do••h confess and believe, that in the sacrament, now called the sacrament of the altar, there is not really and truly contained▪ under the forms of bread and wine, the very natural body and blood of Christ in substance: but his belief and faith therein is as followeth, to wit, That when he doth receive the material bread and wine, he doth re|ceive the same in a remembrance of Christ's death and passion; and so receiving it, he doth eat and drink Christ's body and blood by faith, and none oth•••• ways as he believeth.

AND moreover he doth confess, say, and believe, that the mass now used in the realm of England, or elsewhere in all Christendom, is naught and a|bominable, and directly against God's word, and his catholic church; and that there is nothing said or used in it good and profitable. For he saith that albeit the Gloria in excel••is, the creed, Sanc•••••• Parer-noster, Agnus, and other parts of the mass, be of themselves good and profitable, yet the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 being used amongst other things that be naught and superfluous in the mass, the same good things 〈◊〉〈◊〉 become naught also, as he believeth.

ALSO he doth believe and confess, that auri••••|lar confession is not necessary to be made to any priest, or to any other creature, but every 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ought to confess his sins only to God; and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that no man hath any authority to absolve any 〈◊〉〈◊〉 from his sins; and also believeth, that the right and true way (according to the scripture) after a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hath fallen from grace to sin, to arise to Christ ••|gain, is to be sorry for his offences, and to do the same or the like no more; and not to make any auricular confession of them to the priest, or 〈◊〉〈◊〉 take absolution of them at the priest's hands. A•• which his said opinions he hath believed these seven or eight years past, and in that time hath div•••••• times openly argued and defended the same, a•• he saith, &c.

UPON Monday, being the 10th day of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 these two persons with others, were brought by the keeper unto the bishop's consistory▪ (as it 〈◊〉〈◊〉 before commanded) at one o'clock in the afterno••••▪ where the bishop first beginning with the said Di|rick Carver, caused his confession to be op••••l•• read unto him, asking him whether he would 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to the same. To whom the said Dirick answered▪ that he would: for your doctrine, said he, is p••••|son and sorcery. If Christ were here, you would put him to a worse death than he was put to be|fore.

YOU say that you can make a god; you can make a pudding as well. Your ceremonies in the church be beggary and poison. And further I say,

that auricular confession is contrary to God's word, and very poison; with divers other such like words.

THE bishop seeing his constancy, and that nei|ther his accustomed flatteries, nor yet his cruel threatenings could once move this good man to incline to their idolatry, pronounced his usual and general blessing▪ as well towards Dirick Carver, as also on the said John Launder, although severally; who remained as constant as the other: and there|fore were both delivered to the sheriffs, who were there present, but afterwards were conveyed to the places above-named, and there most joyfully gave their bodies to be burned in the fire, and their souls into the hands of Almighty God, by Jesus Christ, who hath assured them to a better hope of life.

DIRICK CARVER was a man whom the Lord had blessed as well with temporal riches, as with his spiritual treasures; which were yet no clog or hindrance unto his professing of Christ, (God by his grace so working in him) of which there was such havock made by the greedy raveners of that time, that his poor wife and children had little thereof. During his imprisonment, although he was well stricken in years, (and, as it were, past the time of learning) yet he so diligently spent his time, being at his first apprehension utterly ignorant of any letter of a book, he could before his death perfectly read any printed English. His zeal and industry i•• worthy of no small commendation, and therefore I thought good not to pass over it in si|lence▪ but is recommended for the good example and encouragement of others.

MOREOVER, at his coming into the town of Lewes to be burnt, the people called to him, be|s••••ching God to strengthen him in the faith of Jesus Christ. He thanked them, and prayed to God that of his mercy he would strengthen them in the like faith. And when he come to the sign of the Star, the people f••ocked about him, where the sheriff said, that he had found him a faithful man in all his answers. And as he came to the stake, he kneeled down and said his prayers, and the she|rif•• made haste.

THEN his book was thrown into the barrel, and when he had stripped himself, (as a joyful servant of God) he went into the barrel himself. And as soon as ever he came in, he took the book and threw it among the people, and then the sheriff commanded in the name of the king and queen, on pain of death, to throw in the book again. And immediately the holy martyr began to speak with a joyful voice, saying:

DEAR brethren and sisters, I call on you all to witness, that I come to seal Christ's gospel with my blood, because I know that it is true: it is well known to you all, that it hath been truly preached here in Lewes, and in all places of En|gland, and now it is not. And because I will not deny God's gospel, and be obedient to man's laws, I am condemned to die. Dear brethren and sisters, as many of you as do believe in the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, unto everlasting life, see you do the works appertaining to the same. And as ma|ny of you as do believe in the pope of Rome and his laws, which he sets forth in these days, you do believe to your utter condemnation, and, except the infinite mercy of God prevent it, you shall burn in the eternal flames of hell.

IMMEDIATELY the sheriff spake unto him, and said, If thou dost not believe on the pope, thou art damned body and soul. And further the sheriff said unto him, Speak to thy God, that he may deliver thee now, or else to strike me down, to the example of this people; but this pious man said, The Lord forgive you your sayings.

AND then he spake again to all the people there present with a loud voice, saying, Dear brethren, and all you whom I have offended in words or in deed, I ask you for the Lord's sake to forgive me, and I heartily forgive all you who have offended me in thought, word, or deed. And he said further in his prayer, O Lord my God, thou hast written, "He that will not forsake wife, children, house, and every thing that he hath, and take up thy cross and follow thee, is not worthy of thee." But thou, Lord, knowest that I have forsaken all to come unto thee: Lord have mercy upon me, for unto thee I commend my spirit; and my soul

doth rejoice in thee. These were the last words of that faithful servant of Christ, before the fire was put to him. And when the fire came to him, he cried, O Lord, have mercy upon me, and sprung up in the fire▪ calling upon the name of Jesus, and so he ended his life.

An Account of THOMAS IVESON, Martyr.

THOMAS IVESON, of Godstone in the coun|ty of S••rry, carp••nter, wa•• burnt about the same mouth at Chichester: wh•••• apprehension, examination, and condemnation, (forasmuch as it was at the same time, and in the same form with Dirick Carver's and John Launder's) I here omit, referring the reader to their history and process before-mentioned, except only this his separate con|fession and private answers made before bishop Bonner at his last examination in the cons••story, I thought not to omit, who being examined upon the aforesaid articles, answereth.

The Answers of THOMAS IVESON, to the Objec|tions of BONNER, Bishop of London, in a Chamber as his House, in the Month of July.

FIRST, That I believed, that there is but one catholic, universal, and whole church of Christ both through the whole world, which hath held, and hold the true faith, and all the necessary articles of christian belief, and all the sacraments of Christ, with the true use and administration o•• the same.

2. ITEM, That he is necessarily bounden to be|lieve and give credit, in all the said faith, articles of the belief, religion, and the sacraments of Christ, and the administration of the same.

3. ITEM, That the faith, religion, and admi|nistration of sacraments, which now is believed, used, taught, and set sorth in this our church of England, is not agreeing with the true faith of Christ, nor with the faith of the said catholic and universal church of Christ.

4. ITEM, Concerning the sacrament of the altar, he believeth that it is a very idol, and detes•••••••••• before God, as it is now administered.

5. ITEM, That the mass is naught, and not of the invention of Christ, but that it is of man's in|vention: and being demanded, whether any 〈◊〉〈◊〉 used in the mass be good, he said that he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 answer no further.

6. ITEM, That he had not received the sacra|ment of the altar since it had been administered 〈◊〉〈◊〉 now it is in England, neither was confessed a•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 time within these seven years; nor heard mas•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the same space.

7. ITEM, That auricular confession is not ••••••••|sary to be made to a priest; for he cannot forgi••••▪ nor absolve him from sins.

8. ITEM, Concerning the sacrament of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that it is a sign and token of Christ, as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was, and no otherwise; and he believeth 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sins are not washed away thereby, but his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 only washed; for his sins be washed away only by Christ's blood.

9. ITEM, That there be in the catholic 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Christ only two sacraments, that is to say, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sacrament of baptism, and the sacrament of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 supper of the Lord, and no more, which 〈◊〉〈◊〉 rightly used at this present time in England, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 therefore be unprofitable.

10. ITEM, he believeth that all the cerem•••••••• now used in the church of England, are vain, ••••|perfluous, superstitious, and naught.

FURTHERMORE, the s••••d Iveson being 〈◊〉〈◊〉 persuaded to recant, said in this wise, I would 〈◊〉〈◊〉 recant and forsake my opinion and belief for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 goods in London: I do appeal to God's 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and will be none of your church, nor submit my self to the same: and that I have said, I will 〈◊〉〈◊〉 again, And if there came an angel from 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to teach me any other doctrine than that which I am now in, I would not believe him. Which an|swer thus made, he was condemned as an 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and with the same persons was committed to the secular power, as they term it, and at the place

above mentioned was burned, persevering still in his constant faith unto the end.

An Account of JOHN ALEWORTH, who died in Prison.

IN the latter end of the month of July, John Aleworth died in prison at the town of Reading, being there in bonds for the testimony of the gos|pel. Whom although the catholic prelates (ac|cording to their usual solemnity) excluded out of their catholic burial, yet we see no cause to exclude him out of the number of Christ's holy martyrs, and heirs of his holy kingdom.

An Account of JAMES ABBES, Martyr.

AMONG many that endeavoured in these trou|blesome days to keep a good conscience, there was one James Abbes, a young man, who was in|forced to have his part with his brethren in wan|dering, and going from place to place, to avoid the peril of apprehension. But at length he was caught by the hands of wicked men, and brought before Dr. Hopkins, bishop of Norwich: who examin|ing him of his religion, and charging him there|with both with threats and fair speeches, at last the said Jame Abbes did yield to their naughty persua|sions, although his conscience consented not thereto.

NOW when he was dismissed, and should go from the bishop, the bishop calling him again, gave him a piece of money, either lx d. or xx d. whether I know not: which when the said James had received, and was gone from the bishop, his conscience began to throb, and inwardly to accuse his fact: in which combat with himself (being pi|teously vexed) he went immediately to the bishop again, and there threw him his said money which he had received at his hand, and said, he repented that he ever gave his consent to their wicked persua|sions, and in taking of his money.

NOW this being done, the bishop with his chap|lains laboured afresh to win him again, but in vain; for he would not yield to their persuasions, (altho' he had played Peter before through infirmity) but stood manfully in his master's quarrel to the end, and abode the force of the fire in the consuming of his body to ashes, which tyranny of burning was done in Bury, the second of August, 1555.

An Account of the Apprehension, Examination, and Condemnation of JOHN DENLEY, Gentle|man, JOHN NEWMAN, and PATRICK PACKING|HAM.

IN the midst of this tempestuous rage of malig|nant adversaries, persecuting and destroying the poor flock of Christ, many there were, which tho' they were not spiritual men, yet thought to help forward for their parts, and as one would say, to heap up more coals to this furious flame of perse|cution, whether of a blind zeal, or a parasitical flattery, I know not. Amongst which was one Edmund Tyrel, Esq. and at that time a justice of the peace within the county of Essex, an assistant to the cruel murderers of God's saints: who as he came from the burning of som•• pious martyrs, met with John Denley, gentleman, and John Newman, (both of Maidstone in Kent) travelling upon the way, and going to visit some of their friends in the said county of Essex. And upon the sight of them, as he bragged, apprehended them upon suspicion, and searched them; and finding the confessions of their faith about them in writing, sent them up un|to the queen's commissioners, directing also unto one of the same commissioners these his favourable letters in their behalf: the copy whereof here fol|loweth.

A LETTER From EDWARD TYREL, Esq. to one of the Queen's Commissioners.

SIR, with the most hearty commendation•• unto you, these shall be to advertise you, that I have received a letter from Sir Nicholas Hare and you, and others of their majesties Commissioners, by a servant of the king and queen's, named John Failes, for certain business about S. Osythes, which I could not immediately go about, for that I had received a letter from the council, to assist the sheriff for the execution of the heretics, the one at Ra|leigh,

and the other at Rochford, which was done on Tuesday last.

AND as I came homeward, I met with two men: even as I saw them, I suspected them, and then I did examine and search them, and found about them certain letters which I have sent you, and also a certain writing in paper, what their faith was. And they confessed to me, that they had forsaken and fled out of their country for religion's sake; and since they have been in many countries, by their own confession, which I have sent you: for which I thought it good, (as they came from London, and that there may be more found of them than at present I can inform you) to send them to you, whereby you and others of the king and queen's commissioners there might try them so that their lewdness might thoroughly be known; for I think these have caused many to trouble their consciences. So this hath been some hinderance to me, wherefore I could not go about those matters expressed in your letters: but to-morrow at noon I intend by God's grace to accomplish your letters, with as much diligence as I can. May the Holy Trinity ever have you in his keeping. I beseech you (master) to be so good as to discharge these poor men that bring these prisoners up, as soon as may be. And thus most heartily farewel. From Raimesdon-park the 12th day of June, 1555.

By your assured to command, EDMUND TYREL.

FORASMUCH as in this letter mention is made of a certain writing found about them, containing an account of their faith, the contents thereof here ensueth.

Certain NOTES collected and gathered out of the Scrip|tures by JOHN DENLEY, Gentleman, with a Con|fession of his Faith, touching the Sacrament of Christ's Body, and Blood, found in his Pocket at the Time of his Apprehension.

"Christ is in the sacrament, as he is where two or three are gathered together in his name."

THE difference of the doctrine between the faithful and the papists concerning the sacra|ment is, that the papists say, that Christ is corpo|rally under, or in the forms of bread and wine; but the faithful say, that Christ is not there, nei|ther corporally nor spiritually; but in them that worthily eat and drink the bread and wine, he is spiritually, but not corporally.

FOR figuratively he is in the bread and wine, and spiritually he is in them that worthily eat and drink the bread and wine; but really, carnally, and cor|porally he is only in heaven, from whence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead.

"My belief in the sacrament of the blessed body and blood of our Saviour Jesus Christ."

AS concerning the sacrament of the body and blood of our Saviour Jesus Christ, my be|lief is this, that the bread and wine is appointed unto a sacrament; and that after thanks be give•• to God the Father, then it doth represent unto 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the very body and blood of our Saviour Jesus Christ; not that the bread is the body, or the wi•••• the blood, but that I in faith do see that blessed bo|dy of our Saviour broken on the cross, and his precious blood plenteously shed for the redemption of my sins. Also in faith I hear him call us unto him, saying, "Come unto me all ye that lab•••••• and are laden, and I will refresh you," Isa. lv. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Matth. xi. &c. In faith I come unto him, and I am refreshed, so that I believe that all that do come to the table of the Lord in this faith, fear and love, being sorry for their offences, intending earnestly 〈◊〉〈◊〉 lead a godly conversation in this vale of misery, do receive the fruit of the death of Christ, which fruit is our salvation.

I do understand (spiritually) that as the outward man doth eat the material bread which comforteth the body, so doth the inward man (through faith) eat the body of Christ, believing that as the bread is broken, so was Christ's body broken on the cross for our sins: which comforteth our souls unto life everlasting; and signifying thereby, that even a•• that bread was divided among them, so should his body and fruit of his passion be distributed unto as many as believed in his words. But the bread broken and eaten in the supper admonisheth, and putteth us in remembrance of his death, and so ex|citeth

us to thanksgiving, to laud and praise God for the benefits of our redemption.

AND thus we there have Christ present, in the inward eye and sight of our faith we eat hi•• body and drink his blood; that is, we believe surely that his body was crucified for our sins, and his blood shed for our salvation.

CHRIST'S body and blood are not contained in the sacramental bread and wine, as the papists have said, and as some yet do say, as ye read in these scriptures following: namely in Matth. ix.xxiv. and xxvi. Luke v.xxiii. and xxiv. Mark xvi. John xiii.xiv.xv.xvi. and xvii. Acts i.iii.vii. and ix. Rom. viii. Psal. viii. 1 Cor. x. and xi. Exod. xii. Coloss. i. Ephes. i. and iv. Phil. i. and ii. 1 Thess. i. and ix. Heb. i.v.viii.ix x. and xii. 1 Pet. iii. Psal. vi.xlvii.ciii. and x.

"Christ's material body is not in all places, as these scriptures do testify hereafter."

FIRST read St. Matthew the last, Luke the last, John xi.xx. and xxi. These places of the scripture do plainly declare, that his body that was born of the virgin Mary, cannot be in more places than one, and that is in heaven, on the right hand of God, and not in the sacrament, nor in all places, as the papists have affirmed, and yet do affirm.

THEREFORE whosoever they be that do worship the creatures of bread and wine, do commit idola|try, and make abominable idols of them, and take the glory from God, and give it to his creatures, which is contrary to the mind of God, as these scriptures do hereafter testify▪ namely Exod. xx.xxii.xxiii. and xxiv. Lev. xix. Deut. iv.vi. and xxxii. Psal. lxxx. Isai. xlv Mal. ii. Matth. iv. Luke iv. Acts xiv. Rev. xiv. Psal. xcviii. 1 Cor. i. Ephes. iv. 1 Tim. ii. 1 John v. Rev. xix. and xxii.

JOHN DENLEY.

NOW to return to the commissioners again: they receiving these prisoners before-mentioned, after they saw they could little prevail with their own persuasions, sent them to bishop Bonner, to be handled after his fatherly and charitable discretion. Which how discreet and favourable i•• was, the his|tory of others, as well as the sequel of this doth manifestly declare. For the 28th of June then next following, he caused the said Denley and New|man, with one Patrick Packingham, to be brought into his chamber within his house or palace, there examining them upon their confessions (which Ty|rel had found about them), objecting also unto them certain other articles of his own. To which they all answered in effect one thing, although Den|ley answered more largely than the others, and therefore I thought his answers sufficient to lay down, as containing the substance of all the rest, except that Packingham had one article of no great force objected to him, which the others had not.

THIS done, the bishop began with his accustom|ed persuasions; to whom Mr. D••••ley replied, God save me from your counsel, and keep me in the mind I am now in, for what you count heresy I take to be the truth: and thereupon they were commanded to appear in the bishop's consistory the fifth day of July then next coming, in the afternoon, where these articles were objected against them.

ARTICLES objected by EDMUND BONNER, Bishop of London, against JOHN DENLEY, JOHN NEWMAN, and PATRICK PACKINGHAM, jointly and severally, the 28th of June, 1555.

FIRST, That the said Denley now is of the diocese of London, and the jurisdiction of the bishop of London.

Secondly, That the said Denley hath not believed, nor doth believe, that there is any catholic church of Christ here in earth.

Thirdly, That the said Denley hath not believed, nor doth believe, that this church of England is any part or member of the said catholic church.

Fourthly, That the said Denley hath believed and doth believe, that the mass now used in this realm of England is naught, and full of idolatry and evil, and plain against God's word, and therefore 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the said Denley, hath not heard it, nor will hear it.

Fifthly, That the said Denley hath believed, and doth so believe, that auricular confession now used in this realm of England, is not good, but contra|ry to God's word.

Sixthly, That the said Denley hath believed, and doth so believe, that absolution given by the priest hearing confession, is not good, nor allowable by God's word, but contrary to the same.

Seventhly, That the said Denley hath believed, and doth so believe, that christening of children, as it is now used in the church of England, is not good, nor allowable by God's word, but against it: like|wise confirming of children, giving of orders, say|ing of mattins and even-song, anointing of sick persons, making of holy bread and holy water, with the rest of the church.

Eighthly, That the said Denley hath believed, and doth so believe, that there are but two sacra|ments in Christ's catholic church, that is to say, the sacrament of baptism, and the sacrament of the altar.

Ninthly, That the said Denley hath believed, and doth so believe. that forasmuch as Christ is as|cended up into heaven, therefore the very body of Christ is not in the sacrament of the altar.

Tenthly, That thou Patrick Packingham, now being of the age of twenty-one at least, being with|in the house of the bishop of London at St. Paul's, and by him brought to the great chapel to hear mass there, the said 23d day of June, in the year of our Lord, 1555, didst unreverently stand in the said chapel, having thy cap on thy head all the time of mass; and didst also refuse to receive holy water and holy bread at the hands of the priest, there con|temning and despising both the mass, and the said holy water and holy bread.

ANSWERS to the foregoing ARTICLES.

TO the first article I answer, It is very true. To the second article I answer, That it is not true: for I believe the holy catholic church, which is built upon the foundation of the prophets and apostles, Christ being the head; which holy church is the congregation of faithful people d••••|persed through the whole world, which church doth truly preach God's holy word; and doth also ad|minister the two sacraments, that is to say, baptism and the supper of the Lord, according to his bless|ed word.

TO the third article I answer, That I do believe that this church of England, using the faith and re|ligion which is now used, is no part or member of the aforesaid catholic church, but is the church of Antichrist, the bishop of Rome being the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thereof: for it is plain, that they have altered the testament of God, and set up a testament of their own devising, full of blasphemy and lies: for Christ's testament is, that he would have all things done to the edifying of the people, as it appea•••••• when he taught them to pray, Matth. vi. and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it appeareth by St. Paul, 1 Cor. xiv. for he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that "He that prophesieth, speaketh unto me•• for their edifying, for their exhortation, and for their comfort; he that speaketh with the tongue, pro••••|eth himself; he that prophesieth, edifieth the c••••|gregation."

ALSO he saith, "Even so likewise when you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with tongues, except you speak words that have sig|nification, how shall it be understood what is spoken▪ for you shall but speak in the air, that is as much as to say, in vain. Also he saith, Thou verily given thanks well, but the other is not edified. I thank my God, I speak with tongues more than you all▪ yet I had rather in the congregation to speak 〈◊〉〈◊〉 words with understanding, to the information of others, than ten thousand words with the tongue. Also he saith, let all things be done to edification."

ALSO it is written in the xlvi. Psalm "For God is king of all the earth: O sing praises unto him with understanding," &c. So it doth appear that this church of England, now used. is not built up•••• Christ, if St. Paul's words be true, and also the Psalms; therefore this church is not built upon the prophets, apostles, nor Christ, as I have before declared.

TO the fourth article I answer, and I do believe (as I said before), That the mass now used in this

realm of England, is naught, and abominable idola|try and blasphemy against God's holy word; for Christ in his holy supper instituted the sacrament of bread and wine to be eaten together in remembrance of his death till he come, and not to have them worshipped, and make an idol of them: for God will not be worshipped in his creatures, but we ought to give him praise for his creatures, which he hath created for us. For he saith in the second commandment, "Thou shalt not make to thyself any graven image, nor the likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, thou shalt not bow down to them, nor worship them." So it appeareth by this commandment, that we ought not to worship the sacrament of bread and wine, for it is plain idolatry; for he saith, No similitude; therefore, Thou shalt not bow down to them, nor worship them. I pray you what do you call kneeling down, holding up the hands, knocking of the breast, putting off the cap, and making courtesy, with other like superstition▪ You would make men to be so blind as to think that this is no worshipping.

PERADVENTURE you will object and say, You do not worship the bread and wine, but Christ's body, which was born of the virgin Mary, contained un|der the forms of bread and wine. But that is a very lie, for Christ's body which was born of the virgin Mary is in heaven, if St. Paul's words be true, as undoubtedly they are: for he saith in Heb. x. "But this man, after he had offered one sacrifice for sins, is set down for ever on the right hand of God, and from henceforth tarrieth till his foes be made his footstool."

ALSO in chap. ix. he saith, "For Christ is not entered into holy places made with hands, which are similitudes of true things, but he is entered into very heaven, to appear now in the sight of God for us," &c. Also Phil. iii. "But our conversation is in heaven, from whence we look for the Saviour, even the Lord Jesus Christ," &c. 1 Thess i. "For they themselves shew of you, what manner of entering in we had unto you, and how ye turned to God from images to serve the living God, and to look for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead, even Jesus which delivered us from the wrath to come," &c. Also, John xvi. "I went out from the Father, and came into the world." Again, "I leave the world, and go to the Father," &c. John xvii. "Now I am not in the world, and they are in the world, and I come to thee." All these places of scripture, with many more, plain|ly prove to them that have ears to hear, that Christ's body which was born of the virgin Mary is in hea|ven, and not in the sacramental bread and wine; and therefore it is idolatry to worship them, &c.

TO the fifth article I answer, That I do believe (as I said before) that auricular confession is not good as it is now used. Touching my sins wherein I have offended God, I must seek to him for remis|sion thereof, for our Saviour saith, in the xi. of St. Matt. "Come unto me all ye that labour and are laden, I will ease you," &c. The prodigal son, Luke xv. saith, "I will arise and go to my Father, and I will say unto him, Father, I have sinned a|gainst heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son," &c. Psal. xxxi. "I said I will acknowledge mine offences, and accuse myself unto the Lord, and so thou forgivest the iniquity of my sin," &c. Job xiii. "But I will reprove mine own ways in his sight: he shall make me whole, and there may no hypocrite come before him." Syrach xxxiv. "Who can be cleansed of the▪ unclean?" And there were but one of the ten lepers that were cleansed, that came to Christ to give him thanks. He asked for the other nine. But if I have offended my neighbour, I must re|concile myself to him; and if I be a notorious sin|ner, after the first and second admonition, it ought to be declared to the congregation, and the minister of the congregation hath power by the word to ex|communicate me, and I am to be taken as an hea|then person, not for a day, or for forty days, but until such time as I do openly in the congregation acknowledge my fault, and then the minister hath power by the word to preach to me, or them, the remission of our sins in the blood of Jesus Christ, as it is written in the xiiith of the Acts of the Apostles, and Matthew xviii. I know no more of any other confession.

TO the sixth article, I the said John Denley have answered in the fifth.

TO the seventh article I answer, that as touching the sacrament of baptism, which is the christening of

children, it is altered and changed, for St. John used nothing but the preaching of the word and the water, as it doth appear when Christ required to be baptized of him, and others also who came to John to be baptized, as it appeareth, Matth. iii. Mark i. Luke iii. and Acts viii. the chamberlain said, See here is the water, what hindereth me to be baptized? It appeareth here that Philip had preached unto him; for he said, Here is water. We do not read, that he asked for any cream, oil, or spittle, or con|jured water, or conjured wax, or croysom, or salt, for it seemeth that Philip had preached no such things to him: for he would as well have asked for them as for water: and the water was not conjured, but even as it was before. Also Acts x. "Then answered Peter, Can any man forbid water, that these should no•• be baptized?" &c. Acts xvi. "And Paul and Silas preached unto him the word of the Lord, and to all that were in his house: and he took them the same hour of the night, and wash|ed their wounds, and so was he baptized, and all they of his houshold straightway," where you see nothing but preaching the word, and the water. The like is to be said of the rest of the ceremonies of your church.

TO the eighth article I answer shortly, that there be no more sacraments than two; baptism, and the sacrament of the body and blood of Christ, except you will make the rainbow a sacrament: for there is no sacrament but what hath a promise annexed to it.

TO the ninth article I answer you, That you have my mind written already: for it was found about me when I was taken: and you also know my mind in the fourth article, plainly expressed, concerning the bodily presence: for Christ's body is in heaven, and will not be contained in so small a piece of bread. And as the words which Christ spake are true in|deed, so must they also be understood by other pla|ces of scripture which Christ spake himself, and also the apostles after him. And thus I make an end.

By me, JOHN DENLEY.

THE first day of the month of July, the said three prisoners were brought into the consistory in St. Paul's, where Bonner proceeded against them after the usual form and manner of law, reading ••••st their confessions, articles, and answers, and then temp••|ing them sometimes with fair promi••••, at other times with threatenings, which indeed were gener|ally his chief arguments and reasons. In the end, seeing their unmoveable constancy, upon the 5th of July he condemned them as heretics, and delivered them to the sheriffs of London, as to his common executioners, who kept them till they were com|manded by writ to send them to their several places of suffering; and accordingly Mr. Denley was sent to Uxbridge, where he was burned on the 8th day of August; and being set in the fire, with the burn|ing flames about him, he sung a psalm.

THEN cruel Dr. Story being there present, com|manded one of the tormentors to throw a faggot at him, wherewith being so hurt that his face bled, he left singing, and clapt both his hands upon his face. Truly, said Dr. Story to him tha•• hurled the faggot, thou hast marred a good old song.

YET notwithstanding all this, he put his hands abroad in the flames, and sung again, resigning his spirit into the hands of God, through his Son Jesus Christ.

AFTER the martyrdom of Mr. Denley at U••|bridge, which was the 8th of August, Mr. Patrick Packing 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ also suffered at the same town, about the 28th of the said month. This Packingham was charged by Bonner, (as you heard before in the tenth article) for his behaviour in the bishop's chapel, who at the mass time there standing, would not pull off his cap, which was taken for a heinous offence. Packingham being much persuaded by Bonner to recant, protested in these words to the bishop▪ That the church he believed was no catholic church, but was the church of Satan, and therefore he would never turn to it, &c.

FURTHERMORE as concerning the other, which was John Newman, pewterer, at Maidstone in Kent, he was burnt the last day of August, at Saffron|walden, in the county of Essex, whose examination and confession of his faith and belief, for which he was cruelly persecuted and burnt▪ here followeth.

The Examination of Mr. JOHN NEWMAN.

JOHN NEWMAN, when apprehended, was first examined by Dr. Thornton, suffragan of Dover, at Tenterden. From thence he was carried to Bon|ner, and there condemned with Denley and Pack|ingham. But because his examinations and answers came not then to my hands, I thought here in this place to bestow them, rather than they should be ut|terly suppressed. And first, what his answer was by writing to the said suffragan, after his apprehen|sion, you shall hear by the tenor of his own words as follow:

IT may please you to understand, that for the space of all the time of the late king Edward's reign, we were diligently instructed with continual sermons, made by such men whose faith, wisdom, learning, and virtuous living, was commended unto all men under the king's hand and seal, and under the hands of all the council. These men taught diligently a long time, persuading us by the allega|tions of God's word, that there was no transubstan|tiation, or corporal presence in the sacrament. Their doctrine was not believed by us suddenly, but by their continual preaching, and also by our continual prayer unto God that we might never be deceived; but if it were true, that God would incline our hearts unto it; and if it were not true, that we might ne|ver believe. We weighed that they laboured with God's word, and we asked the advice of our friends, neither could we find that they preached false doc|trine. We considered also, as we did learn, that the king's grace and his council, and the most part of the whole realm, believed as they taught, because no man preached the contrary. Also we know that the preachers were commanded by the king and laws of the realm, to preach unto us such doctrine ••s was agreeable to the authority of God's word, and no other; and by their diligent setting of it forth by the king's commandment, and the consent of the whole council, and by the authority of the whole parliament, we embraced it, and received it as a very infallible truth, taught unto us for the space of seven years. Wherefore, until such time as our consciences are otherwise taught and instruct|ed by God's word, we cannot with safeguard of our consciences take it, as many suppose at this time. And we trust in God that the queen's merciful high|ness, neither yet her most honourable council, will in a matter of faith use compulsion, or violence, be|cause faith is the gift of God, and cometh not of man, neither of man's laws, nor at such time as men require it, but at such time as God giveth it.

The Examination and Answers of JOHN NEWMAN, before Dr. THORNTON and others.

FIRST one of the doctors began, whose name John Newman doth not express, asking in this wise.

Doctor.

How say you to this: "This is my body which i•• given for you?"

Newman.

It is a figurative speech, one thing spoken, and another meant; as Christ saith, "I am a vine, I am a door, I am a stone," &c. Is he there|fore a material stone, a vine, or a door?

Doctor.

This is no figurative speech. For he saith, "This is my body which is given for you," and he saith not so of the stone, vine, or door; but that is a figurative speech.

Newman.

Christ saith, "This cup is the New Testament in my blood." If you will have it so meant, then let them take and ea•• the cup.

Doctor.

Nay, that is not so meant; for it is a common phrase of speech among ourselves: we say to our friend, drink a cup of drink, and yet we mean he should drink the drink in the cup.

Newman.

Why, if you will have the one so un|derstood, you must so understand the other.

Doctor.

Nay, it is a common use of speech, to say, drink a cup of ale or beer, and therefore it is no figurative speech.

Newman.

The often using of a thing doth not make that thing otherwise than it is; but whereso|ever any thing is spoke, and another meant, it is a figurative speech.

Doctor.

Well, we will not stand hereabout. How say you of the real presence? Is not Christ's natural body there that was born of the virgin Mary?

Newman.

No, I do not so believe; neither can I so believe; for the soul of man doth not feed upon natural things as the body doth.

Doctor.

Why, how then doth it feed?

Newman.

I think the soul of man doth feed as the angels in heaven, whose feeding is only the pleasure, joy, felicity, and delectation that they have of God: and so the soul of man doth feed and eat, through faith, the body of Christ.

Collins.

Yea, but if the body do not feed upon natural things, the soul cannot continue with the body: therefore the body must needs feed upon natural things, that both may live together.

Newman.

I grant it to be true: but yet the soul doth live otherwise than the body which doth per|ish: therefore natural things do but feed the body only. I pray you, what did Judas receive at the supper?

Collins.

Marry, Judas did receive the very body of Christ, but it was to his damnation.

Newman.

Why, was the devil entered into him before? Then he had the devil and Christ in him at one time.

Collins.

Nay, the devil did not enter into him afterwards.

Newman.

Yea, and before too: what, do you think he had but one devil? Nay, I think he had rather a legion of devils at the ••atter end.

Collins.

Well, suppose it to be so▪ what say you to that?

Newman.

Marry, if Christ and the devil were both in Judas at once, I pray you how did they two agree together?

Collins.

We grant that they were both in Judas at that time: for Christ may be where the devil is, if he will; but the devil cannot be where Christ is, except it please Christ.

Newman.

Christ will not be in an unclean per|son that hath the devil.

Thornton.

Why, will you not believe that Christ was in hell? and you will grant that the devil is there; and so might he be in Judas, if it pleased him.

Newman.

Christ would not suffer Mary Magda|len to touch him, who sought him at his grave, and did love him intirely; much less will he suffer an ungodly man to receive him into his unclean body.

Thorn.

Yes, seeing God may do all things, he may do what he list, and still be where he 〈◊〉〈◊〉. And doth not the Psalm say, He is in hell, and in all places? Why should we then doubt of his ••••|ing there?

New.

Though his Godhead be in all place••, yet that is not sufficient to prove that his humanity is in all places.

Thorn.

No, do you not believe that God is omnipotent, and may do all things?

New.

I do believe that God is almighty, and may do all that he will do.

Thorn.

Nay, but if he be omnipotent, he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 do all things, and there is nothing impossible for him to do.

New.

I know God is almighty, and can do all that he will: but he cannot make his Son a 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ he cannot deny himself, nor can he restore virginity once violated and defiled.

Thorn.

What is that to your purpose? God doth not defile virginity; we speak but of things that God doth.

New.

Why, will you have the humanity 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Christ in all places as the Deity is?

Thorn.

Yea, he is in all places as the Deity is, if it please him.

New

I promise you that seemeth to me a very great heresy, for heaven and earth are not able to contain the divine power of God, for it is in all places, as here and in every place; and yet you say, that wheresoever the Deity is, there is also the

humanity; and so you will make him no body, but a fantastical body, and not a body indeed.

Thorn.

Nay, we do not say he is in all places as the Deity is, but if it please him he may be in all places with the Deity.

New.

I promise you, that seemeth to me as great an heresy as ever I heard in my life, and I dare not grant it, lest I should deny Christ to be a very man, and that were against all the scrip|tures.

Thorn.

Tush, what shall we stand reasoning with him? I dare say he doth not believe that Christ came out of his mother, not opening the matrice. Do you believe that Christ rose from death, and came from death, and came through the stone?

New.

I do believe that Christ rose from death; but I do not believe he came through the stone, neither doth the scripture so say.

Thorn.

Lo, how say you? he doth no•• believe that Christ came through the stone; and if he doth not believe this, how shall he believe the other? If he could believe this, it were easy for him to be|lieve the other.

New.

The scripture doth not say he went through the stone, but it saith, the angel of God came down, and rolled away the stone, and for fear of him the keepers became even as dead men.

Thorn.

Ah fool, fool, that was because the woman should not see that he was risen again from death.

New.

Well, the scripture maketh as much for me, as it doth for you, and more too.

Thorn.

Well, let us stand not any longer about this. Back again to the real presence. How say you, is the body of Christ really in the sacrament, or no?

New.

I have answered you already.

Thorn.

Well, do you not believe that it is there really?

New.

No, I believe it not.

Thorn.

Well, will you stand to it?

New.

I must needs stand to it, till I be per|suaded by a further truth.

Thorn.

Nay, you will not be persuaded, but stand to your own opinion.

New.

Nay, I stand not to mine own opinion, God I take to witness, but only to the scriptures of God, and that can all those that stand here witness with me, and nothing but the scriptures: and I take God to witness that I do nothing of presumption, but that that I do is only my con|science; and if there be a further truth than I see▪ except it appear a truth to me, I cannot receive it as a truth. And seeing faith is the gift of God, and cometh not of man; for it is not you that can give me faith, nor any man else: therefore I hope you will bear the more with me, seeing it must be wrought by God, and when it shall please him to open a further truth to me, I shall receive it with all my heart, and embrace it.

THORNTON had many other questions which I did not bear away; but as I do understand, these are the chief: as for taunts, foolish and unlearned, he lacked none. Praise God for his gifts, and God increase in us strength.

The Arguments of JOHN NEWMAN.

IF the body of Christ were really and bodily in the sacrament, then whosoever received the sacra|ment, received also the body.

THE wicked receiving the sacrament, receive not the body of Christ.

ERGO, The body of Christ is not really in the sa|crament.

ARGUMENT.

THEY which eat the flesh, and drink the blood of Christ, dwell in him, and he in them.

The wicked dwell not in Christ, nor he in them.

ERGO, The wicked eat not the flesh, nor drink the blood of Christ.

ARGUMENT.

THEY that have Christ dwelling in them, bring forth much fruit, John xv. "He that dwel|leth in me, and I in him, bringeth forth much fruit."

The wicked bring forth no fruit of goodness.

ERGO, They have not Christ's body dwelling in them.

ARGUMENT.

WHERE remembrance is of a thing, there is im|ported the absence thereof.

REMEMBRANCE of Christ's body is in the sacrament, "Do this in remembrance of me."

ERGO, Christ's body there is imported to be absent.

INDEED they will say, we see him not with our outward eyes, but he is commended under the forms of bread and wine, and that we see is no|thing but a quality of an accident without a sub|stance: but let them first prove this, and I will believe them. And thus much concerning New|man's examinations and arguments.

The Faith of JOHN NEWMAN, dwelling at Maid|stone in Kent, who was by Occupation a Pew|terer.

"THE Lord is the protector of my life. The just shall live by faith, and if he withdraw himself, my soul shall have no pleasure in him.

MY faith is, that there is one God, which is without beginning, and without ending. This God created all things visible and invisible. And after that he had made both heaven and earth, with all other creatures, he made man, and set him in the place which he had prepared for him▪ which place he called Eden: he gave to Adam his commandments and precepts, and said, Whenso|ever thou dost the thing which I forbid, thou shalt surely die the death; yet did man for all this dis|obey God his creator, and after his sin he fled from God, and himself, and was in a miserable desper•••••• case. But God, seeing man in his miserable estate▪ because he and all his posterity should not conti•••••• in death, promised Adam that the woman's 〈◊〉〈◊〉 should break the serpent's head; whereby is meant, that the Son of God should become man, and de|stroy the devil, who by his subtle persuasions 〈◊〉〈◊〉 deceived Adam. Then did Adam, by faith, take hold of God's promise, and became the servant of righteousness, through the faith which he had i•• the promise of the woman's seed. So did Abel, Seth, Enoch, and Noah, with faithful Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and the rest of the faithful until Christ's time: as St. Paul saith, "They did all eat one spiritual meat, and did all drink of one spiritual drink; they did drink of that spiritual rock that followed them, which rock was Christ that saveth us." And when the time was fully come, God sent his Son, made of a woman, that is, he took flesh of the virgin Mary, and became ma••; not the shadow of a man, nor a fantastical man, but a very natural man in all points, sin only excepted; which God and man is Christ the promised woman's seed. This Christ was here conversant among men for the space of thirty years and more, and when the time was come that he should go to his Father, he gave unto us the mystery of our redemption, that we through faith should ••••t his body, and drink his blood, that we might feed on him through faith to the end of the world. After this Christ offered up his body on the cross to pacify his Father, and to de••••|ver us from the thraldom of the devil, in which we were through sin original and actual. And with that one sacrifice of his body once offered on the cross, he hath made perfect for ever all them that are sanctified. He descended into hell, the third day he rose again from death, and was conversant at certain times with his disciples for the space of for|ty days after he rose from death. Then in the sight of all his disciples he ascended into heaven: and as his disciples stood looking upward, and be|holding him how he went into heaven, two men stood by them in white apparel, which also said; "Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into

heaven? This Jesus which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come even as ye have seen him go into heaven."

ST. PETER also saith, that the heavens must re|ceive him, until the time that all things which God hath spoken by the mouth of the prophets, since the world began, be restored again, which is the latter day, when he shall come to judge the quick and the dead. I do believe in the Holy Ghost, which is the Spirit of God proceeding from the Father and the Son, which Holy Spirit is one God with them. I believe that there is an holy church, which is the company of the faithful and elect peo|ple of God, dispersed abroad throughout the whole world; which holy church or congregation doth not look for Christ here, nor Christ there, neither in the desert, nor in the secret places whereof Christ warneth us, but as St. Paul saith, in heaven, where he fitteth on the right hand of the Father; they set their affections on things that are above, and not on things that are on earth. And their life is hid with Christ in God: and when Christ who is their life, shall shew himself, then shall they also appear with him in glory. I believe that there is a com|munion of saints, even the fellowship of the faithful people which are dispersed abroad throughout the whole world, and are of one mind: they follow Christ their head, they love one anorher, as Christ loved them, and are knit together in one, even in Christ; which church or congregation hath the forgiveness of sins through Christ, and shall enter without spot before the face of God into his glory. For as Christ being their head hath entered pure and clean, so they entering by him, shall be like him in glory. And I am certain and sure, that all they which do die, shall rise again and receive their bodies. In them shall they see Christ come in his glory to judge the quick and the dead. At whose coming all men shall appear and give a reckoning of their doings: he shall separate the good from the bad; he shall say to them which are his elect, "Come ye blessed of my Father, inherit the king|dom prepared for you from the beginning:" but to the others that have always resisted his will, he shall say, "Depart from me ye cursed into ever|lasting fire, which is prepared for the devil and his angels."

THUS have I briefly declared my faith, which were no faith at all if I doubted of it. This faith therefore I desiere God to increase in me. Praise God for his gifts.

AND thus have you the martyrdom, with the confession of the blessed man, and witness of the Lord's truth, who for that gave his life, as is be|fore declared.

LIKEWISE Richard Hook, about the same time, and for the same matter, gave his life at Chiches|ter.

The Examinations, Answers, and condemnation of WILLIAM COKER, WILLIAM HOPPER, HENRY LAURENCE, RICHARD COLLIAR, RICHARD WRIGHT, and WILLIAM STERE, before the Bishop of DOVER, and Dr. HARPSFIELD, Archdeacon of CANTERBURY.

MENTION was made a little before the story of Mr. Bland, and Nicholas Sheterden, of certain other Kentish-men, who being the same time with them called forth and examined by Thorn|ton, bishop of Dover, Dr. Harpsfield, Richard Faucet, and Robert Collins: yet notwithstanding because the condemnation and execution of them was deferred a little longer, till the latter end of the month of August; coming therefore now to the time of suffering, we will briefly touch some part of their examinations and answers as we find them in the registers. The names of these were W. Co|ker, W. Hopper, H. Laurence, R. Colliar, Ri|chard Wright, and William Stere. What the arti|cles objected to Mr. Bland and them were, you heard before. To which articles they severally an|swered for themselves in effect as followeth.

FIRST William Coker said, he would answer no otherwise than he had already answered; and be|ing offered to have a longer respite of six days more, he refused to take it; and so upon the same, sen|tence of condemnation was read against him, the 11th of Iuly.

WILLIAM HOPPER first seemed to grant to the faith and determination of the Roman church, but calling himself better to mind, constantly stuck to

the truth, and was condemned the next week after, the 16th of July.

HENRY LAURENCE, examined the said 16th of July, and partly deferred to the 2d of August, an|swered to the articles objected against him; first de|nying auricular confession, and that he neither had, nor would receive the sacrament, because, saith he, the order of the holy scriptures is changed in the order of the sacrament.

MOREOVER, the said Laurence was charged for not putting off his cap, when the suffragan made mention of the sacrament, and did no reverence to the same: the said Laurence answered in these words, What? you shall not need to put off your cap: for it is not so holy that you need to put off your cap thereunto.

FURTHER, being opposed concerning the verity of the sacrament given to Christ's disciples, he affirmed that even as Christ gave his very body to his disciples, and confessed it to be the same; so likewise Christ himself said, he was a door, &c. adding moreover, that as he had said before, so he saith still, that the sacrament of the altar is an idol, and no remembrance of Christ's passion, and con|trary he knoweth not. At last being required to subscribe his answers, he wrote these words under the bill of their examinations, "You are all of Antichrist and him you fol—and here his hand was hindered from writing any further: belike he would have written out [follow], &c. And so upon the same, sentence was given against him the 2d of August.

RICHARD COLLIAR, of Ashford above-mention|ed, having the 16th of August to appear, examin|ed of the sacrament of the popish altar, answered and said, that he did not believe, that after the consecration there is the real and substantial body of Christ, but only bread and wine, and that it is most abominable, most detestable, and most wick|ed to believe otherwise, &c. Upon this, sentence was read against him, and he condemned the 16th of August. After his condemnation he sung a psalm. Wherefore the priests and their officers railed at him, saying he was out of his wits.

RICHARD WRIGHT, the same place and day above-mentioned, appearing, and being required by the judge what he believed of the real presence in the sacrament, answered again, that as touching the sacrament of the altar and the mass, he was ashamed to speak of it, or to name it, and that he allowed it not, as it was used in the church. Against whom the sentence was also read the day and place aforesaid.

WILLIAM STERE, of the aforesaid parish of Ashford, likewise detected and accused, was brought to appear the said 16th day of August, where he in the chapter-house of Canterbury, being required to answer to the positions laid unto him by the judge, made answer again, That he should com|mand his dog, and not him: and further declared, that Dick of Dover had no authority to sit against him in judgment; and asked, where was his au|thority? who then shewed him certain bulls and writings from Rome, as he said. William Stere denying that to be of sufficient force, the said Dic•• also said, he had authority from the queen. Th•••• the martyr alledging that the archbishop of C••••|terbury, (who was then in prison) was his dioces••••, urged him to shew his authority from the archbishop, or else he denied his authority to be sufficient. And as touching the sacrament of the altar, he found i•• not, he said, in the scripture, and therefore he would not answer thereunto.

AND moreover, the judge speaking of the sacra|ment of the altar with reverence, and putting off his cap, William Stere told him that he needed not to reverence that matter so highly. And thus (saying to the judge, that he was a bloody man, &c.) th•• sentence was pronounced against him; and after the sentence was read, he said, that the sacrament of the altar was the most blasphemous idol that ev••r was, &c.

AND thus these six heavenly martyrs and witness|es, to the truth, being condemned by the bloody suffragan and archdeacon of Canterbury. Mr. Col|lins, and Mr. Faucet, were burnt all together in the same town of Canterbury, at three stakes in one fire, about the latter end of August.

THE copy of their sentence condemnatory, you may find before in the story of Mr. John Rogers;

for the papists in their condemnations follow one manner of sentence against all they have condemn|ed through their unmerciful tyranny.

The Persecution of TEN MARTYRS together, sent by cer|tain of the Council to BONNER to be examined.

AFTER the burning of these six before-named, next followeth the persecution of ten other true servants of God, the names of whom are as follow:

• Elizabeth Warne,
• George Tankerfield,
• Robert Smith,
• Stephen Harwood,
• Thomas Fust,
• William Hale,
• Thomas Leyes,
• George King,
• John Wade,
• Joan Lashford.

THE prisons of London beginning now to be re|plenished with God's saints, and still more and more coming in, the council and commissioners, thinking to make ready dispatch with the poor prisoners, caused these ten to be sent with their letter directed to Bonner, bishop of London, by him to be examin|ed and rid out of the way. The copy of which letter, with their names subscribed, here followeth to be read and noted.

A LETTER Sent by the Commissioners to Dr. BONNER, Bishop of London.

AFTER our hearty commendations to your good lordship, we send you here John Wade, William Hale, George King Thomas Leyes, of Thorp in Essex, Thomas Fust, hosier. Robert Smith, painter, Stephen Harwood, brewer, George Tankerfield, cook, Elizabeth Warn••, and Joan L••shford, of London, sacramentaries; all which we desire your lordship to examine, and to order according to the ecclesiastical laws: praying your lordship to appoint some of your officers to receive them at this bearer's hands. And thus most heart|ily fare your lordship well. From London this 2d of July.

Your lordship's loving friends,

• Nicholas Hare,
• William Roper,
• Richard R••d••,
• William Cooke.

The History of ELIZABETH WARNE, Widow, burn•• at Stratford-B••w.

NOW severally to prosecute the stories of these ten martyrs aforenamed: first we will begin with the history of Elizabeth Warne, widow, who in the month of August was burnt at Stratford-Bow, ••ear London; she was late wife of John Warne, upholsterer, and martyr, who was also burnt the latter end of the May before, as in his story is re|corded.

THIS Elizabeth Warne had been apprehended among others, the first day of January, in a house in Bow-church-yard in London, as they were ga|thered together in prayer, and at that present was carried to the Compter, where she remained till the 11th day of June: at which time she was brought to Newgate, and was confined there till the 2d day of July. Then was she sent by the king and queen's commissioners unto Bonner, bishop of London, who on the 6th day of the said month caused her with divers others (as Robert Smith, George Tanker|field, &c.) to be brought before him into his palace, and there examined her upon sundry articles, such as were commonly administered unto poor saints and martyrs of God, as you may more plainly per|ceive by other more large and ample processes before-mentioned.

THE chief objection that he used towards her, or the most of those, was touching the real and cor|poral presence of the body and blood of Christ in the sacrament of the altar, as the chief ground and most profitable foundation of their catholic dignity. Many other matters he objected against them, as for not coming to the church, for speaking against the mass, for despising their ceremonies and new found sacraments, with divers other fond and trifling toys, not worthy to be mentioned.

IN the end, when she had been divers times brought before him and other his adherents, and there earnestly exhorted to recant, she said, Do what you will; for if Christ were in an error, then am I in an error. Upon which answer, she was condemn|ed as an heretic, the 12th day of the same month of July, and so delivered to the secular power, as they term it, to be by them put to death, which was done in the same month.

THE chief procure•• of her death was Dr. Story, being, as it was thought, somewhat related to her, or else to her late husband. Who, at the first ap|prehension of his said kinswoman, endeavoured by all means to get her pardon, and accordingly applied to Dr. Martin, then one of the king and queen's commissioners in matters of religion, (himself being as yet not made commissioner) and by this his suit obtained her deliverance for that present, as Dr. Martin himself (the author hereof) hath reported; yet afterwards, upon what occasion God only know|eth, except upon some burning charity, the said Dr. Story obtaining to be one of the commissioners, caused not only the said John Warne, but also his wife, and afterwards his daughter, to be again ap|prehended, never leaving them till he had brought them all to ashes. Such was the rage of that de|vout catholic and white child of the mother church, that neither kindred or any other consideration could prevail with him, although it did (at his request) with others, who in respect of him were but stran|gers unto them. The Lord, if it be his will, turn his heart, or else rid his poor church from such an hydra, as, thanked be God, now he hath.

An Account of GEORGE TANKERFIELD, Martyr.

GEORGE TANKERFIELD, of London, cook, born in York, about the age of 27 or 28 years, was in the days of king Edward a papist, till the time queen Mary came in, and then perceiv|ing the great cruelty which the papists used, was brought into a misdoubt of their doings, and began (as he said) in his heart to abhor them. And as concerning the mass, whereof he had but a doubt|ful opinion before, and much striving with himself in that case, at length he fell to prayer, desiring God in mercy to open to him the truth, that he might be thoroughly persuaded therein, whether it were of God, or no: if not, that he might utterly hate it in his heart, and abhor it: which the Lord mercifully heard, and according to his prayer, daily working more and more in him to detest and abhor the same: and so he was moved to read the Testa|ment, whereby (as is said) the Lord enlightened his mind with the knowledge of the truth, working a lively faith in him to believe the same, and utterly to detest all popery, and so he came no more to their doings; and not only that, but also this lively faith (as he said) kindled such a flame in him, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 would not be kept in, but utter itself by the co••••••|sion thereof, reproving his own former doings to his friends, exhorting them likewise to repent 〈◊〉〈◊〉 turn to the truth with him; thus they began to smell him out, and at length he was sent for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 followeth:

IT pleased God to strike him with sickness, where|by he lay long sick; and on a certain day to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the air abroad, he rose up, and went and walked into the Temple fields to see the shooters. In the mean time Mr. Beard came to his house and inquired for him, pretending to his wife, that he came only to have him dress a banquet at the lord Paget's. His wife, because of his apparel, which was very rich, took him to be some honest gentleman, and with all speed prepared herself to fetch her husband, having a good hope he should now earn some money: and lest this gentleman should be tired with tarrying, she fetched him a cushion to set him soft, and laid •• fair napkin before him, and set bread thereon, and came to her husband; who, when he heard it, said▪ A banquet, woman; indeed it is such a banquet 〈◊〉〈◊〉 will not be very pleasant to the flesh, but God's will be done. And when he came home he saw who 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was, and called him by his name, which when his wife perceived, and wherefore he came, like a tall woman would play Peter's part, and instead of▪ sword took a spit, and would have run him through, had not the constable which Mr. Beard had sent for by his man, came in and rescued him: yet she sent a brickbat after him, and hit him on the back. And so Tankerfield was delivered to the constable, and brought to Newgate about the last day of Feb. 1555, by the said Beard, yeoman of the guards, and Simon Ponder, p••wterer, constable of St Duns••••••'s in the West, sent in by Roger Chomley, knight, and Dr. Martin.

TANKERFIELD being thus brought to prison by his adversaries, at length with the others before-named was bro••ght to his examination before bishop Bonner, who, after his accustomed manner, ordered his articles and positions unto him, the copy and tenor of which his ordinary articles ye may read above expressed.

TO these articles he answered again, constantly declaring his mind concerning au••icular confession,

and also the sacrament of the popish altar, and like|wise the mass, &c. First, that he has not confes|sed to any priest five years past, nor to any other, but only to God: and further denying that he would hereafter be confessed to any priest, for that he found it not in Christ's book, and took it only to be a counsel.

AND concerning the sacrament, commonly called the sacrament of the altar, he confessed, that he neither had nor did believe, that in the sacrament there is the real body and blood of Christ, because the body is ascended into heaven, and there doth sit at the right hand of God the Father.

AND moreover he said, that the mass now used in the church of England was naught, and full of ido|latry and abomination, and against the word of God; affirming also, that there are but two sacraments in the church of Christ, baptism and the supper of the Lord, &c. And to these assertions he said he would stand; and so he did to the end.

AND when at last the bishop began to read the sentence, first exhorting him with many words to re|voke his professed opinion, (which they called damnable and heretical) he notwithstanding resisted all their persuasions, answering the bishop again in this manner: I will not, said he, forsake mine opi|nions, except you, my lord, can refute them by scriptures; and I care not for your divinity; for you condemn all men, and prove nothing against them. And after many fair words of exhortation, which Bonner then used, to convert, or rather per|vert him, he answered boldly again, saying more|over, That the church whereof the pope is supreme head, is no part of Christ's catholic church; and adding thereunto, and pointing to the bishop, spake to the people, saying, Good people beware of him, and such as he is, for these be the people that de|ceive you, &c.

THESE and many other words he spake▪ where|upon the bishop, reading the sentence of condemna|tion, gave him to the secular power.

AND so this good man being carried to St. Al|ban's, there ended his life with much patience and constancy, the 26th day of August, for the defence of the truth, which at length will have the victory.

NOTES concerning GEORGE TANKERFIELD, after he was carried to St. Alban's to suffer Martyrdom.

IMPRIMIS, He was brought to St. Alban's by the high sheriff of Hertford, Edward Brocket, esquire, and Mr. Pulter, of Hitchen, who was un|der sheriff.

ITEM, Their inn was the cross-keys, where there was a great concourse of people to see and hear the prisoner, among which multitude some were sorry to see so pious a man brought to be burned, others praised God for his constancy and perseverance in the truth. Contrariwise, some there were which said, it was pity he did stand in such opinions: and others, both old men and women, cried against him; one called him heretic, and said it was pity that he lived. But George Tankerfield spake unto them so effectually out of the word of God, lamenting their ignorance, and protesting unto them his un|spotted conscience, that God did mollify their har|dened hearts, insomuch that some of them departed out of the chamber with weeping eyes.

ITEM, There came a certain school-master, to have communication with George Tankerfield the day before he was coming to St. Alban's▪ concern|ing the sacrament of the altar, and other points of the popish religion: but as he urged Tankerfield with the authority of the doctors, wresting them after his own will; so on the other side, Tanker|field answered him mightily by the scriptures, not wrested after the mind of any man, but being inter|preted after the will of the Lord Jesus, &c. So that as he would not allow such allegations as Tan|kerfield brought out of the scriptures without the opi|nions of the doctors; so again Tankerfield would not credit his doctrine to be true, except he would confirm it by the scriptures. In the end, Tanker|field prayed him that he would not trouble him in such matters, for his conscience was established, &c. and so he departed from him, wishing him well, and protesting that he meant him no more hurt than his own soul.

ITEM, When the hour drew on apace that he should suffer, he desired the wine-drawer, that he might have a pint of malmsey and a loaf, that he might eat and drink that in remembrance of Christ•••• death and passion, because he could not have it ad|ministered

to him by others in such a manner as Christ commanded; and then he kneeled down, making his confession unto the Lord with all which were in the chamber with him: and after he had prayed earnestly unto the Lord, and had read the institution of the holy supper by the Lord Jesus out of the evangelists, and out of St. Paul, he said, O Lord, thou knowest it, I do not this to derogate authority from any man, or in contempt of those which are thy ministers, but only because I cannot have it administered according to thy word, &c. and when he had spoke these and such like words, he received it with giving of thanks.

ITEM, When some of his friends desired him to eat some meat, he said he would not eat that which should do others good that had more need, and that had longer time to live than he.

ITEM, He prayed his host to let him have a good fire in the chamber; he had so; and then he sitting on a form before the fire, put off his shoes and hose, and stretched out his leg to the flame; and when it had touched his floot, he quickly withdrew his leg, shewing the flesh did persuade him one way, and the spirit another way. The flesh said, O thou fool, wilt thou burn, and needest not? The spirit said, Be not afraid, for this is nothing in respect of fire eternal. The flesh said, Do not leave the company of thy friends and acquaintance which love thee, and will let thee lack nothing. The spirit said, The company of Jesus Christ and his glorious presence doth exceed all fleshly friends. The flesh said, Do not shorten thy time, for thou mayest live if thou wilt much longer. The spirit said, This life is nothing unto the life in heaven which lasteth for ever, &c. And all this time the sheriffs were at a gentleman's house at dinner, not far from the town, whither also resorted many knights and gentlemen out of the country, because his son was married that day; and until they returned from dinner, the pri|soner was left with his host, to be kept and looked unto. And George Tankerfield all that time was kindly and lovingly intreated by his host; and con|sidering that his time was short, his saying was, That although the day was ever so long, yet at the last it ringeth to evening song.

ITEM, About two o'clock, when the sheriffs were returned from dinner, they brought George T••••|kerfield out of the inn unto the place where he should suffer, which is called Romeland, being a green place near the west end of the abbey church: unto which when he was come, he kneeled down by the stake that was set up for him; and after he had ended his prayers he arose, and with a joyful faith he said, that although he had a sharp dinner, yet he hoped to have a joyful supper in heaven.

ITEM, While the faggots were set about 〈◊〉〈◊〉, there came a priest unto him, and persuaded him 〈◊〉〈◊〉 believe on the sacrament of the altar, and he should be saved. But George Tankerfield cried out vehe|mently, and said, I defy the whore of Babylon, I defy the whore of Babylon: fie on that abominable idol: good people, do not believe him, good people, do not believe him. And then the mayor of the town commanded to set fire to the heretic, and said, If he had but one load of faggots in the whole world, he would give them to burn him. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was a certain knight by, who went unto Tanke••|field, and took him by the hand and said, Good bro|ther, be strong in Christ; this he spake softly; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Tankerfield said, O sir, I thank you, I am so, I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 God. Then fire was set unto him, and he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the sheriff and all the people to pray for him; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 most part did so. And so embracing the 〈…〉〈…〉 bathed himself in it, and calling on the Lord Jesus, he was quickly out of pain.

The History and Examinations of ROBERT SMIT••, Martyr.

ROBERT SMITH was brought to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the 5th of November, by John Matthew, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 man of the guard of the queen's side, by the co••|mand of the council. Robert Smith first gave him|self to service in the house of sir Thomas 〈◊〉〈◊〉 knight, being then provost of Eaton: from the••••e he was preferred to Windsor, having there in the college a clerkship of ten pounds a year. Of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he was tall and slender, active about many things▪ but chiefly delighting in the art of painting, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 many times rather for his mind's sake, than for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 gain, he did practice and exercise. In religion he was fervent, after he had once tasted the truth;

wherein he was much confirmed by the preaching of Mr. Turner, of Windsor, and others. Where|upon at the coming in of queen Mary he was deprived of his clerkship by her visitors; and not long after he was apprehended, and brought to examination before Bonner, as here followeth, writ|ten and testified with his own hand.

The first Examination of ROBERT SMITH before Bi|shop BONNER.

ABOUT nine o'clock in the morning I was among the rest of my brethren brought to the bishop's house and first of all I was brought before him into his chamber, to whom the bishop said as followeth, after he had asked my name.

Bonner.

How long is it since you were confessed to any priest?

Smith.

Never since I had years of discretion. For I never saw it needful, neither commanded by God to come to shew my fault; to any of that sinful number whom you call priests.

Bonner.

Thou shewest thyself even at thy first speech to be a rank heretic, who being weary of painting, art entered into divinity, and so fallen, through thy departing from thy vocation, into he|resy.

Smith.

Although I have understanding in the said occupation, yet▪ I praise God. I have little need hitherto to live by the same; but have lived without the same in mine own house as honestly in my vocation as you have lived in y••ur's, and ye•• used the same better than ever you used the pulpit.

Bonner.

How long is it since you received the sacrament of the altar, and what is your opinion in the same?

Smith.

I never received the same since I had years of discretion, nor ever will, by God's grace; neither do esteem the same in any point, because it hath no•• God's 〈◊〉〈◊〉, neither in name, nor in other usage, but rather is set up and erected to mock God withal.

Bonner.

Do you not believe that it is the very body of Christ that was born of the virgin Mary, naturally, sustantially, and really, after the words of consecration?

Smith.

I shewed you before it was none of God's ordinances, as you use it; then much less to be God, or any part of his substance, but only bread and wine erected to the use aforesaid; yet nevertheless, if you can prove it to be the body that you spake of by the word, I will believe it; if not, I will do as I do, account it a detestable idol, not God; but contrary to God and his truth.

THEN after many raging words and vain objec|tions, Bonner said, there was no remedy, but I must be burned.

Smith.

You shall do no more unto me, than you have done to better men than either of us. But think not thereby to quench the Spirit of God, neither thereby to make your matter good. For your sore is too well seen to be healed so privily with blood. For even the very children have all your deeds in derision; so that although you patch up one place with authority, yet shall it break out in forty to your shame.

Bonner.

Then after much ado, and many rail|ing sentences, he said, throwing away the paper of mine examination; Well, even now, by my troth, even in good earnest, if thou wilt go to confession, I will tear this paper in pieces.

Smith.

To which I answered; It would be too much to his shame to shew it to men of discretion.

AFTER which answer. I was carried down to the garden with my jailor, and there remained till my brother Harwood was examined; and then being again brought up before the said Bonner, he demanded if I agreed with Harwood in his con|fession upon these articles following.

Bonner.

What say you to the catholic church? Do you not confess there is one i•• earth?

Smith.

Yes verily, I believe that there is one

Smith.

Yes verily, I believe that there is one catholic church, or faithful congregation, which as the apostle saith, is built upon the prophets and apostles, Christ Jesus being the head corner-stone▪ which church in all her words and works maintain|eth the word, and bringeth the same for her authority, and without it doth nothing, nor ought to do, of which I am assured I am by grace made a member.

Bonner.

You shall understand, that I am bound when my brother offendeth, and will not be recon|ciled, to bring him before the congregation: now if your church be the same, where may a man find it, to bring his brother before the same?

Smith.

It is written in the Acts of the apostles, that when the tyranny of the bishops was so great against the church in Jewry, they were fain to assemble in houses and secret places, as they now do; and yet were they nevertheless the church of God: and seeing they had their matters redressed being shut up in a corner, may not we do the like now-a-days?

Bonner.

Yea, their church was known full well. For St. Paul wrote to the Corinthians, to have the man excommunicated, that had committed evil with his father's wife. Whereby we may well perceive it was a known church; but your's is not known.

Smith.

Then could you not persecute it as you do: but as you say the church of God at Corinth was manifest both to God and St. Paul; even so is this church of God in England, which you persecute, both known to God, and also even to the very wicked, although they know not, nor will know their truth nor conversation; yea, and your sinful number have professed their verity, and maintained the same a long season.

Bonner.

Well, thou sayest that the church of God was only at Corinth, when St. Paul writ unto them, and so will I put in writing, shall I?

Smith.

I do greatly marvel, my lord, that you are not ashamed to lay snares for your brethren on this manner. This is now the third snare you have laid for me. First, to make me confess that the church of England is not the church of Christ. Secondly, to say it is not known. Thirdly, to say the church of God is not universal, but particular. And this is not the office of a bishop. For if an innocent had come in your way, you would have done your best, I see to entangle him.

WELL, friend, said Dr. Harpsfield, you are no innocent, as it appeareth.

Smith.

By the grace of God I am that I am; and this grace in me, I hope is not in vain.

WELL, said Bonner, laughing, tell me, how sayest thou of the church?

Smith.

I told you whereon the true church is built, and I affirm in England to be the true congregation of God, and also in omne•••• terra••, "Their sound is gone forth into all lands," and this is the afflicted and persecuted church, which ye cease not to imprison, slay, and kill. And in Corinth was not all the congregation of God, but a number of those holy and elect people of God. For neither Paul nor Peter were present at Corinth when they wrote, and yet were they of the church of God, as many thousands more which also com|municate in that Holy Spirit.

Bonner.

What call you catholic, and what call you church?

Sm••th.

Catholic is uni••ersal, and church ••s a congregation knit together in unity.

THEN after much like talk, it was laid to my charge, that my fellow and I spake one thing. For which I praised God, and was sent again to the garden. Where, after a while, as I and bro|ther Harwood had been together, came one of my lord's chaplains, that much desired to commune with 〈◊〉〈◊〉 demanding first if I were a prisoner.

Smith.

I am in this flesh a prisoner, and subject to my master and your's▪ but I hope yet the Lord's free man through Christ Jesus.

Doctor.

I do much desire to talk to you loving|ly, because you are a man that I much lament, with many other sweet words.

To which I answered, Sub melle latet venenum. And after much ado about his god, I compelled him to say, that it must needs enter into the belly, and so fall into the draught.

Doctor.

What derogation was it to Christ, when the Jews spit in his face?

Smith.

If the Jews, being his enemies, did spit in his face, and we being his friends throw him into the draught, which of us have deserved the greatest damnation? Then by your argument, he that doth injury to Christ, shall have a most plente|ous salvation.

THEN the doctor started away, and would have his humanity incomprehensible, making a compa|rison between the soul of man and the body of Christ, bringing in to serve his turn, which way Christ came in among his disciples, the doors being shut?

Smith.

Although it be said, that when he came the doors were shut, yet have I as much to prove, that the doors opened at his coming, as you have to prove he came through the door. For that Al+mighty God who brought the disciples out of pri|son, which yet when search was made was found shut, was able to ••et Christ ••n at the door, although it were shut: and yet it maketh not for your purpose; for they saw him, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 him, and felt him, and that you cannot say you do, neither is he in more places than one at the same time.

AT which answer when he had made many scof+fings, he went from me, and we were carried into my lord's hall, where we were b••ited by my lord's ba••d of servants almost all the day, until our keepe•• seeing their rudeness, shut us all up in a handsome chamber, while my lord wen•• into his synagogue to condemn Mr. D••nley and John Newman.

THEN they brought my lord mayor up into the chamber 〈◊〉〈◊〉 my 〈◊〉〈◊〉 intended to sup•• to hear the matter, and I was the first that was ca••••ed, where my lord mayor being set with the bishop and one of the sheriffs, wine was flowing on every side, whilst I stood before them like a mute; which made me remember how Pilate and Herod were made friends, but no man was sorry for Joseph's hurt. But after my lord had well drank, my arti|cles were sent for and read, and he demanded whether I did say as was written?

Smith.

That I have said, I have said, and what I have said I do mean.

Bonner.

Well, my lord mayor, your lordship hath heard in some measure, what a stout heretic this is, and nevertheless forasmuch as they report me to seek blood, and call me bloody Bonner, whereas, God knoweth, I never sought any man's blood in all my life, I have kept him from the consistory this day, whither I could have brought him justly; I desire him to turn, and I will with all speed dispatch him out of his trouble; and this I profess before your lordship and all this audi|ence.

Smith.

Why, my lord, do you put on this fair vizor before my lord mayor, to make him believe that you seek not my blood, to cloak your murders, through my stoutness, as you call it? Have you not had my brother Tomkins before you, whose hand when you burned most cruelly, you burned also his body, and not only him, but a great many of the members of Christ, men that feared God, and lived virtuously, and also the queen's majesty's most true subjects, as their goods and bodies have made manifest? And seeing in these saints you have shewed so little mercy, shall it seem to my lord and ••his audience that you shew me more favour? No, no, my lord. But if you mean as you say, why then do you examine me of what I am not bound to answer you?

Bonner.

Well, what sayest thou by the sacra|ment of the altar? Is it not the very body of Christ, flesh, blood, and bone, as it was born of the virgin?

Smith.

I have answered that it is none of God's order nor a sacrament, but of man's own vain in|vention, and shewed him the Lord's institution.

But when he was so earnest before the audience, declaring that we knew nothing, bringing out his Hoc est corpus meum to lay in my dish; I proved before the audience that it was a dead god, decla|ring the distinction appointed between two crea|tures of bread and wine, and that a body without blood hath no life. At which Harpsfield found himself much offended, and took the tale out of my lord's mouth, saying,

Harps.

I will prove by the s••riptures, that you blaspheme God in so saying: for it is given in two parts, because there are two things shewed. ••hat is to say, his body and his passion, as saith St. Paul: and therefore the bread is his body, and the wine the representation of his death and blood-shedding.

Smith.

You falsify the word, and rack it to serve your purpose. For the wine was not only the shewing his passion, but the bread also. For our Saviour saith, "So often as ye do th••s, do it in remembrance of me." And St. Paul saith, "So oft as you eat of this bread, and drink of this cup, you shall sh••w forth the Lord's death till he come." And her•• is as much reverence given to the one as to the other. Wherefore if the bread be his body, the cup must be his blood, and as well you make his body in the cup, as his blood in the bread.

THEN my lord rose up, and went to the table, where the lord mayor desired me to save my soul. To whom I answered, I hoped it was saved through Christ Jesus; desiring him to have pity on his own soul, and remember whose sword he carried.

ON which I was carried into the garden, and there abode till the rest of my friends were exami|ned, and then were we sent away to Newgate with many foul farewels, my lord bishop giving the keeper charge to lay me in limbo.

Second Examination of ROBERT SMITH, before Bishop BONNER.

UPON Saturday, at eight o'clock, I was brought to his chamber again, and there examined by him as followeth.

Bonner.

Thou Robert Smith, &c. sayest that there is no catholic church here on earth.

Smith.

You have heard me both speak the con|trary, and you have writing as a witness of the same.

Bonner.

Yes, but I must ask this question: how sayest thou?

Smith.

Must you of necessity begin with a lie? It maketh manifest that you determine to the end with the same. But there shall no liars enter 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the kingdom of God. Nevertheless, if you will 〈◊〉〈◊〉 answered, ask mine articles that were written yester|day, and they shall tell you that I have confessed a church of God, as well in earth as in heaven, and yet all one church, and one man's members, eve•• Christ Jesus.

Bonner.

Well, what savest thou to auricular con|fession? Is it not necessary to be used in Christ's church? and wilt thou not be confessed by the priest?

Smith.

It is not needful to be used in Christ's church, as I answered yesterday. But if it be need|ful for your church, it is to pick men's pockets; and such pick pocket matters is all the whole rabble of your ceremonies: for all that you maintain is 〈◊〉〈◊〉 money-••••tters.

Bonner.

Why, how art thou able to prove th•••• confession is a pick pocket matter? Art thou 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ashamed to say so?

Smith.

I speak by experience: for I have bo•••• heard and seen the fruits of the same. For first 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hath been, we see, a betrayer of king's secrets, and the secrets of other men's consciences; who bein•• delivered, and glad to be discharged from their sins▪ have given great sums of money to priests to absolve them, and sing masses for their soul's health.

AND for example, I began to bring in a pageant▪ that by report was played at St. Thomas of Acres▪ and where I was when a child, waiting 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a gentle|man of Norfolk, which being bound in ••••nscience▪ through the persuasion of the priest, gave away a great quantity of his goods, and forgave unto one Mr. Gresham a large sum of money, and to another as much. The priest for his part had a good share and the house had an annuity to keep him: which

thing when his brother heard, he came to London, and after a declaration made to the council, how by the subtilty of the priest he had robbed his wife and children, recovered a great part again, to the value of two or three hundred pounds of Mr. Gresham and his other friend; but what he gave to the house could not be recovered. This story I began to tell; but when my lord saw it favoured not to his pur|pose, he began to revile me, and said, By the mass, if the queen's majesty were of my mind, thou shouldst not come to talk before any man, but shouldst be put in a sack, with a dog in the same, and be thrown into a river.

Smith.

I know you speak by practice, as much as by speculation, for both you and your predecessors have sought all possible means to kill Christ secretly; witness Mr. Hunne, whom your predecessor caused to be thrust in at the nose with hot burning needles, and then to be hanged, and gave it out that the said Hunne hanged himself: and also a good brother of your's, a bishop of your profession, having in his prison an innocent man, whom, because he could not overcome by scripture, he caused to be privately strangled, and his flesh to be ••••rn and plucked away with a pair of pincers; and bringing him before the people, said, the rats had eaten him. Thus ac|cording to your oath is all your dealing, and hath been: and as you, taking upon you the office, do not without oaths open your mouth▪ no more do you without murder maintain your traditions.

Bonner.

Ah, you are a generation of liars; there is not one true word that cometh out of your mouths.

Smith.

Yes, my lord, I have said that Jesus Christ is dead for my sins, and risen for my justifica|tion, and this is no lie.

THEN Bonner made his man to put in my tale of the gentleman in Norfolk, and would have m•• re…cite it again: which when I would not do, he made his man put in such sums as he 〈◊〉〈◊〉. At the end of this sir John Mordaunt came in, and sat down to hear my examination. Then said my lord, How sayest thou, Smith, to the seven sacraments▪ Believest thou not that they be of God's order, that is to say, the sacrament of, &c.

Smith.

I believe that in God's church are but two sacraments, that is to say, the sacrament of regeneration, and the sacrament of the Lord's sup|per: and as for the sacrament of the altar, and all your sacraments, they may well serve your church, but God's church hath nothing to do with them, neither have I any thing to do to answer them, nor you to examine me of them.

Bonner.

Why, is God's order changed in baptism? In what point do we dissent from the word of God?

Smith.

First, in hallowing your water; in con|juring of the same; in baptizing children with anointing and spitting in their mouths, mingled with salt, and with many other lewd ceremonies, of which not one point is able to be proved in God's order.

Bonner.

By the mass, this is the most unshame-faced heretic that ever I heard speak.

Smith.

Well sworn, my lord, you keep a good watch.

Bonner.

Well, Mr. Controller, you catch me at my words: but I will watch thee as well, I warrant thee.

BY my troth, my lord, said sir John Mordaunt, I never heard the like in all my life. But I pray you, my lord, mark well his answer for baptism. He disalloweth therein holy ointment, salt, and such other laudable ceremonies, which no christian man will deny.

Smith.

That is a shameful blasphemy against Christ, so to use any mingle mangle in baptizing young infants.

Bonner.

I believe, I tell thee, that if they die before they be baptized, they be damned.

Smith

You shall never be saved by that belief. But I pray you, my lord, shew me, are we saved by water, or by Christ.

Bonner.

By both.

Smith.

Then the water died for our sins: and so must you say, that the water hath life, and it being

our servant, and created for us, is our Saviour. This, my lord, is a good doctrine, is it not?

Bonner.

Why, how understandest thou the scrip|tures? "Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God."

AND again, "Suffer (saith our Saviour) these children to come unto me:" and if thou wilt not suffer them to be baptized after the laudable order, thou hinderest them to come unto Christ.

Smith.

Where you alledge St. John, "Except a man be born," &c. and will thereby prove the wa|ter to save, and so the deed or work to save and put away sins, I will send you to St. Paul, who asketh of the Galatians, "Whether they received the Spirit by the deeds of the law, or by the preaching of faith?" and there concludeth, that the Holy Ghost accompanieth the preaching of faith, and with the word of faith entereth into the heart. So now if baptism preach to me the washing in Christ's blood so doth the Holy Ghost accompany it, and it is un|to me as a preacher and not a Saviour. And where you say, I hinder the children to come unto Christ, it is manifest by our Saviour's words that you hinder them to come, that will not suffer them to come unto him without the necessity of water. For he saith, Suffer them to come unto me, and not unto the water; and therefore if you condemn them, you condemn both the merits and words of Christ. For our Saviour saith, "Except ye turn and be|come as children, ye cannot enter into the kingdom of God." And so I brought out many other ex|amples, to make manifest that Christ hath cleansed original sin, bringing in examples out of the scrip|tures for the same.

Bonner.

Then thou makest the water of none effect, then put away water.

Smith.

"It is not (saith St. Peter) the washing away of the filth of the flesh, but in that a good conscience consenteth unto God." And to prove that water only bringeth not the Holy Ghost, it is written in Acts viii. that Simon received water, but would have received the Holy Ghost for money. Also, that the Holy Ghost hath come before bap|tism. Yea, and although your generation have set at nou••ht the word of God, and like swine turned his wo••••s upside down, yet must his church keep the sa•••• in that order which he left them, which his church ••••re not break; and to judge children damned 〈◊〉〈◊〉 be not baptized, it is wicked.

〈◊〉〈◊〉.

By our lady, sir, but I believe that if my child die without water, he is damned.

Bonner.

Yea, and so do I, and all catholic men, good Mr. Mordaunt.

Smith.

Well, my lord, such catholic, such salva|tion!

Bonner.

Well, sir, what say you to the sacrament of orders?

Smith.

You may call it the sacrament of mis|orders: for all orders are appointed of God. But as for your shaving, anointing, greasing, poling, and rounding, there are no such things appointed in God's book, and therefore I have nothing to do to believe your orders. And as for you, if you had grace and intelligence, you would not so disfigure yourself as you do.

Bonner.

Sayest thou so? Now, by my troth, I will go shave myself to anger thee withal; and so he sent for his barber, who immediately came: and before my face at the door of the next chamber, he shaved himself, desiring me before he went, to an|swer to these articles.

Bonner.

What say you to holy bread and holy water, to the sacrament of anointing▪ and to all the rest of such ceremonies of the church?

Smith.

I say they be baubles for fools to play withal, and not for the children of God to exercise themselves in, and therefore they may go among the refuse. Then Mr. Mordaunt went away, and my lord went to be shaved, leaving there certain doctors, as he called them, to try what they could do, by whom I was baited for half an hour: of whom I also asked this question, where were you all the days of king Edward, that you spake not that which you speak now?

Doct.

We were in England.

Smith.

Yea, but then you had the faces of men, but now you put on lion's faces again, as saith St. John, "Ye shew yourselves as full of malice, as ye may be." For you have for every time a vizor; yea, and if another king Edward should arise, you would then say, Down with the pope, for he is Anti|christ, and so are all his angels.

THEN was I reviled and sent away, and brought in again before th••se men; and one of them that baited me before, asked me if I disallowed con|fession?

Smith.

Look into mine articles, and they shall shew you what I allow.

Doct.

Your articles confess that you allow not auricular confession.

Smith.

I allow it not, because the word alloweth it not, nor commandeth it.

Doct.

Why, it is written, thou shalt not hide thy sins and offences.

Smith.

No more do I when I confess them to Almighty God.

Doct.

Why you cannot say that you can hide them from God, and therefore you must understand the words are spoken to be uttered to them that do not know them.

Smith.

You have made a good answer, then the priest must confess himself to me, as well as I to him; for I know his faults and secre••s no more than he knoweth mine. But if you confess to the priest and not unto God, you shall have the reward that Judas had: for he confessed himself to the priest, and presently went and hanged himself; and so many as do not acknowledge their faults to God, are said to hide them.

Doct.

What did they that came to John to be baptized?

Smith.

They came and confessed their sins to Almighty God.

Doct.

And not unto John?

Smith.

If it were unto John, as you are not able to prove, yet it was to God, before John and the whole congregation.

Doct.

Why, John was alone in the wilderness.

Smith.

Why, and yet the scriptures say he had many disciples, and that many pharisees and saddu|cees came to his baptism. Here the scriptures and you agree not. And if they confessed themselves to John, as you say, it was to all the congregation, as St. Paul doth to Timothy, and to all that read his epistle, in opening to all the hearers, that he was not worthy to be called an apostle, because he had been a tyrant. But as for ear-confession, you never heard it allowed by the word. For the prophet David made his confession unto God, and saith, "I will confess my sins unto the Lord." Daniel maketh his confession unto the Lord; Judith, Toby, Jere|my, Manasseh, with all the forefathers, did even so. For the Lord hath said, "Call upon me in the time of trouble, and I will deliver thee." Knock, ask, seek, with such like; and this is the word of God; now bring somewhat of the word to help yourself withal. Then they raged, and called me dog, and said I was damned.

Smith.

Nay, you are dogs, that because holy things are offered, will slay your friends. For I may say with St. Paul, "I have fought with beasts in the likeness of men." For here I have been baited these two days, of my lord, and his great bulls of Basan, and in his hall beneath have I been baited of the rest of his band. With this came my lord from shaving, and asked me how I liked him.

Smith.

Forsooth, you are even so wise as you were before you were shaven.

Bonner.

How standeth it, Mr. Doctors, have you done any good?

Doct.

No, by my troth, my lord, we can do no good.

Smith.

Then is fulfilled that which is written, "How can an evil tree bring forth good fruit?"

Bonner.

Nay, naughty fellow, I set those gentle|men to bring thee home to Christ.

Smith.

Such gentlemen, such Christs! and as truly as they have that name from Christ, so truly do they teach Christ.

Bonner.

Well, wilt thou neither hear them nor me?

Smith.

Yes, I am compelled to hear you; but you cannot compel me to follow you.

Bonner.

Well, thou shalt be burnt at a stake in Smithfield, if thou wilt not turn.

Smith.

And you shall burn in hell, if you repent not: but to put you out of doubt, because I am weary, I will strain courtesy with you: I perceive you will not with your doctors come unto me, and I am determined not to come unto you, by God's grace. For I have hardened my face against you as hard as brass. Then after many railing sentences I was sent away.

AND thus have I left the truth of mine answers in writing, gentle reader, being compelled by my friends to do it: that you may see how the Lord hath according to his promise given me a mouth and wisdom to answer in his cause, for which I am con|demned, and my cause not heard.

The last Examination of Mr. SMITH.

THE 12th of July I was with my brethren brought into the consistory, and mine articles read before my lord mayor and sheriffs, with all the assistants; to which I answered, as followeth.

Bonner.

By my faith, my lord mayor, I have shewed him as much favour as any man living might do: but I perceive all is lost, both in him and all his company.

AT this word, which he coupled with an oath, Mr. Smith came in, and said to the bishop, My lord, it is written, "You must not swear."

Bonner.

Ah, Mr. Controller, are you come? Lo, my lord mayor, this is Mr. Speaker, pointing to my brother Tankerfield; and this i•• Mr. Con|troller, pointing to me. And then beginning to read my articles, he persevered till he came at my tale of the gentleman of Norfolk, and then demand|ed of my lord mayor, if he heard of the same be|fore. To which he answered, No. To whom I said:

Smith.

My lord mayor, will it please you to hear me recite it as •• he••rd it, and ••old it, and then you shall hear the truth? For this tale that my lord hath told is untrue.

Bonner.

How say you, good Mr. Mordaunt, spake he not this here as it is written? Were you not by?

Mordaunt.

Yes, my lord, that it is: I heard him say it.

Smith.

How heard you me say it, and were not present when I spake it? It is manifestly proved what the prophet saith: "Even as the king saith, so saith the judge, that he may do him a pleas•••••• again." And then my jailor was brought out for proof thereof, who there openly professed that nei|ther Mr. Mordaunt, nor the doctors before-mention|ed, were present when I spake it.

AT which Mr. Mordaunt, with blushing cheeks, said, he heard them read, and heard me affirm the same; which also was not true. Then my lord pro|ceeded with the rest of my articles, demanding of me if I said not as was written. To which I an|swered, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 And turning to my lord mayor, I said, I require you, my lord mayor, in God's behalf, unto whom pertaineth your sword and justice, that I may here before your presence answer to these objections that are laid against me, and have proba|tion of the same▪ and if any thing that I have said, or will say, be proved (as my lord saith) heresy, I shall not only with all my heart forsake the same, and cleave to the truth, but also recant wheresoever you shall assign me, and all this audience shall be witness to the same.

Lord Mayor.

Why, Smith, thou canst not de•••• but this thou sa••••••t.

Smith.

Yes, my lord, I deny that which he hath written, because he hath both added to, and dimi|nished from the same: but what I have spoken I will never deny.

Lord Mayor.

Why, thou speakest against the blessed sacrament of the altar.

Smith.

I denied it to be any sacrament, and I do stand here to make probation of the same; and if my lord o•• any of his doctors be able to prove either the name or usage of the same, I will recant mine error. Then spake my brother Tankerfield, and defended the probation of things which they called heresy. To which the bishop answered,

By my troth, Mr. Speaker, you shall preach at a stake.

Smith.

Well sworn, my lord, you keep a good watch.

Bonner.

Well, Mr. Controller, I am no saint.

Smith.

No, my lord, nor yet a good bishop. For a bishop, saith St. Paul, should be fau••tless, and a vessel dedicated unto God; and are you not ashamed to sit in judgment and be a blasphemer, condemning innocents?

Bonner.

Well, Mr. Controller, you are fault|les••▪

Smith.

My lord mayor, I require you in God's name, that I may have justice. We be here to|day a great many innocents wrongfully accused of heresy. And I require you, if you will not seem to be parti••l, let me have no more favour at your hands, than the apostle had at the hand•• of Festus and Agrip••••, who being heathens and infidels, gave him leave not only to speak for himself, but also heard the probation of his cause. This require I at your hands, who being a christian judge, I hope will not deny me that right, which the heathen have suffered: if you do: then shall all this audi|ence, yea, and the heathen, speak shame of your fact. For all that do well come to the light, and they that do evil hate the light.

THEN the lord mayor hanging down his head, said nothing, but the bishop told me, I should preach at the stake, and so the sheriff cried with the bishop▪ away with me.

THUS came I in before them four times, desiring justice, but could have none: and at length my friends required the same with one voice, and could not have it; so we had sentence; and then being carried out, were brought in again, and received it separately. But before the bishop gave me sen|tence, he told me in derision of my brother Tan|kerfield, a tale between a gentleman and his cook. To which I answered, My lord, you fill the peo|ple's ears with fantasies and foolish tales, and make a laughing matter at blood; but if you were a true bishop, you should leave these railing sen|tences, and speak the words of God.

Bonner.

Well, I have offe••ed to that naughty fellow, Mr. Speaker, your companion the c••ok, that my chancellor should here instruct him, but he hath with great disdain refused it. H••w s••yest thou, wilt thou have him instruct thee, and le••d thee into the right way?

Smith.

My lord, ••f your chancellor will do me any good, and take any pains, as you say, let him take mine articles in his hands, that you have ob|jected against me, and either prove one of them heresy, or any thing that you do to be good: and if he be able so to do, I stand here with all my heart to hear him; if not, I have no need, I praise God, of his sermon: for I come to answer for my life, and not to hear a sermon.

THUS began the sentence, "In the name of God," &c. To which I answered, that he began in a wrong name, requiring of him, where he learned in scripture to give sentence of death against any man for his conscience sake. To which he m••de no answer, but went forward to the end, and immediately cried, Away with him. Then I turned to the mayor, and said, Is it not enough for you, my lord mayor, and you that are the sheriffs, that you have left the straightway of the Lord, but you must condemn Christ causeless?

Bonner.

Well, Mr. Controller, now you can|not say, but I have offered you fair, to have in|struction. And now, I pray thee, call me Bloody Bishop, and say, I seek thy blood.

Smith.

Well, my lord, if neither I nor any of this congregation do report the truth of your fact,

yet shall these stones cry it out, rather than it shall be hidden.

Bonner.

Away with him, away with him

Woodrofe.

Away with him, take him away.

Smith.

Well, good friends, you have seen and heard the great wrong that we have received this day, and you are all witnesses that we have desired the probation of our cause by God's book, and it hath not been granted: but we are condemned, and our cause not heard. Nevertheless, my lord mayor, forasmuch as you have here exercised God's sword causeless, and will not hear the right of the poor, I commit my cause to Almighty God, who will judge all men according to right, before whom we shall both stand without authority; and there will I stand in the right, and have judgment, to your great confusion, except you repent, which the Lord grant you to do, if it be his will. And then was I with the rest of my brethren carried away to Newgate.

THUS, gentle reader, as near as I can, I have set forth the truth of my examination, and the ve|rity of mine unjust condemnation for the truth, praying to God that it may not be laid to the charge of thee, O England, requiring your hearty prayers to God for his grace and spirit of boldness, with hope even shortly to set to my seal at Ux|bridge the 8th day of August, by God's grace: pray that it may be to his honour, my salvation, and your consolation, I pray you.

Da gloriam Deo. ROBERT SMITH.

THUS art thou (good reader) not only to note, but also to follow in this man a singular example of christian fortitude, who so valiantly stood in de|fence of his master's cause: and as thou seest him here boldly stand in examination before the bishop and doctors; so was he no less comfortable also in the prison among his companions: which also is to be observed no less in his other fellow-prisoners, who being together in an outward room in Newgate, had godly conference with themselves, with daily praying and public reading, which they to their great comfort used in that room together; amongst whom Smith was the chief; whose indus|try was always solicitous, not only for them of his own company, but also his diligence was c••••••|ful for other prisoners, whom he ceased not to dissuade from their old accustomed iniquity; and many he converted to his religion.

THE said Robert Smith, the valiant and constant martyr of Christ▪ being thus replenished, as ye 〈◊〉〈◊〉 heard, with the fortitude of God's Spirit, was con|demned at London by Bonner their bishop, on the 12th day of July; and suffered at Uxbridge the 8th day of August; who as he had been before •• comfortable instrument of God to all them 〈◊〉〈◊〉 were in prison with him; so now also being at the stake, he did no less comfort the people, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 standing about him, willing them to think 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of his cause, and not to doubt but that 〈…〉〈…〉 in that quarrel, should rise again 〈◊〉〈◊〉 life. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 said he, I doubt not but God will shew you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 token thereof. At length he being well 〈…〉〈…〉 burnt, and all black with fire, clustered together 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in a lump like a black coal, all men thinking him dead, suddenly rose upright before the people, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 up the stumps of his arms, and clapping the same together, declaring a rejoicing heart 〈◊〉〈◊〉 them; and so bending down again, and hanging over the fire, slept in the Lord, and ended 〈◊〉〈◊〉 mortal life.

WHILE he was in prison he wrote several 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to his friends, some in verse, and others in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 And the first are in verse as follow.

LETTER I. "O ye that love the Lord, see that ye 〈…〉〈…〉 thing that is evil."

THE God that giveth life and light, And leadeth into rest: That breaketh bonds, and bringeth out The poor that are opprest: And keepeth mercy for the meek, His treasure and his store: Increase thy life in perfect love, Both now and evermore. That as thou hast begun to ground In faith and fervent love, Thou may'st be made a mighty mount, That never may remove.

That thine ensample may be shew'd Among all thine increase; That they may live and learn the like, And pass their time in peace. Thy salutations that were sent, I heartily retain: And send thee seventy times as much, To thee and thine again, And now because I know the goal, That thou dost most desire▪ I send thee here a paper full, As fined in the fire. In hope thou wilt accept it well, Although it be but small; Because I have no other good, To make amends withal. For all thy free and friendly facts, Which thy good will hath wrought, I send thee surely for a shift The thing that cost me nought. Abstain from all ungodliness, In dread direct your days: Possess no•• sin in any wise; Beware of wicked ways. Hold fast your 〈◊〉〈◊〉 un••eignedly; Build as you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 begun▪ And arm yourself in perfect faith, To do as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 done: Le•••• ••hat the wicked make a mock At what they take in hand, In 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of the perfect rock, To build upon the sand. Beware of filthy pharisees, Their building is in blood: E••t not with them in any wise, Their leaven is not good. Their salt is all unsavory: And under good intents They maintain all their knavery, And murder innocents. They seek to sit in Christ his seat, And put him out of place: And make all means that may be made, His doings to deface. They keep him down with bills and b••••s, That made the blind to see: They make a god for mice and r••••s, And say the same is he. They look like sheep, and act like wolves, Then ••aits be all for blood: They kill and s••ay the simple souls, And 〈◊〉〈◊〉 them of their good. The dark illusions of the devil Have dimmed so their eyes, That they cannot abide the truth To stir in any wise. And if ye keep the perfect path, (As I have hope you do) Ye shall be sure to have such shame As they may put you to. For all that lead a godly life, Shall surely suffer loss: Likewise the world will seek their shame, And make them kiss the cross. Ye shall be killed all, saith Christ: Your sorrows shall not cease▪ And yet in your afflictions I am your perfect peace. For in the world ye shall have woe, Because ye are unknown: Also because ye hate the world, The world will love his own. Be fervent therefore to the death, Against all their decrees: And God shall surely fight for thee, Against thine enemies. Commit your cause unto the Lord, Revenge not any ill; And thou shalt see the wicked want, When thou shalt have thy will. For all afflictions that may fall, That they can say or do: They are not sure of all the wealth, That we attain unto. For I have seen the sinners spread Their branches like a bay; And yet ere one could turn his head, Were wither'd clean away. Beware that money make you not In riches to arise Against the goodness of the Lord, Among the worldly wise. For many mischiefs it hath made, That may not be express'd: And many ••lls it hath begun, Which may not be redress'd. For money maketh many a one In riches to rebel, And he that maketh gold a god, He hath a soul to sell. It maketh kings to kill and slay, And waste their wits in war; In leaving of the wolf at home, To hunt the fox afar. And where they should see justice done, And set their realm in rest; By money they be made a means To see the poor opp••est. It maketh lords obey the laws, That they do ill and naught: It maketh bishops suck the blood, That God hath dea••ly bought.

And where they should be faithful friends, And fathers to their flock, By money they do turn about, Ev'n like a weather-cock. The priest doth make a money mean, To have again his whores, To put away his wedded wife, And children out of doors. It holdeth back the husbandman, Which may not be forborn; And will not suffer him to sow, And cast abroad his corn. In like case it doth let again, When that the seed they sow; It choaketh up the corn again, So that it cannot grow. The husband he would have a wife, With nobles new and old: The wife would have the husband hang'd, That she might have his gold. It maketh murd'rers many a one. And beareth much with blood: The child would see the parents slain, To seize upon their good. And though it be a blessed thing, Created in the kind; It is a necessary ill Annexed to the mind. For whoso playeth with the pitch, His fingers are defil'd; And he that maketh gold a god, Shall surely be beguil'd. Be friendly to the fatherless, And all that are opprest. Assist them always out of hand, And see them set at rest. In all your doing and your deeds, Let mercy still remain; For with the measure that you mete, Shall ye be met again. Be always lowly in your life; Let love enjoy her own: The highest trees are seldom sure, And soonest overthrown. The lions lack and suffer sore, In hunger and in thirst: And they that do oppress the poor, Continue still accurst. The bee is but a little beast In body or in sight, And yet she bringeth more increase Than either crow or kite▪ Therefore beware in any wise, Keep well your watch alway▪ Be sure of oil within your lamp; Let not your light decay: For death despiseth them that lack, And hateth them that have; And treadeth down the rich and poor Together in the grave. Exhort your children to be chaste, Rebuke them for their ill, And let them not in any wise Be wedded to their will. Laugh not with them, but keep them low, Shew them no merry cheer, Lest thou do weep with them also; But bring them up in fear. And let your light and living shine, That ye be not suspected To have the same within yourself, For which they are corrected. Be meek and modest, in a mean Let all your deeds be done, That they which are without the law May see how right ye run. Keep well the member in your mouth, Your tongue ice that ye tame; For out of little sparks of fire Proceedeth forth a flame. And as the poison doth express The nature of the toad; Ev'n so the tongue doth manifest The heart that feareth God. For therewith bless we God above, And therewith curse we men; And thereby murders do arise, Thro' women now and then. And seeing God hath giv'n a tongue, And put it under power, The surest way it is, to set A hatch before the door. For God hath set you in a seat Of double low degree; First unto God, and then to man, A subject for to be. I write not that I see in you These things to be suspected, But only set before your face, How sin should be corrected. For flesh and blood I know ye are, As other women be; And if ye dwell in flesh and blood, There is infirmity. Receive a warning willingly, That to thy teeth is told: Account the gift of greater price Than if he gave thee gold. A wise man will, saith Solomon, A warning soon embrace: A 〈◊〉〈◊〉 will sooner (as he faith) Be smitten on the face.

And as your members must be dead From all things that are vain: Ev'n so by baptism ye are born To live with Christ again. Thus farewel free and faithful friend: The Lord that is above Increase in thee a perfect faith, And le••d thee in his love. And as I pray with perfect love, And pour out bitter tears For you and all that are at large Abroad among the briers; Ev'n so I pray thee to prefer My person and my bands, Unto the everlasting God That hath me in his hands. That I may pass out of this pond, Wherein I am opprest, Inclosed in a clod of clay, That here can have no rest. That as he hath begun in me His mercies many one, I may attain to overtake My brethren that are gone. That when the death shall do his worst, Where he shall point a place, I may be able like a man To look him in the face. For though he catch away my cloak, My body into dust: Yet am I su•••• to have a soul, When death hath done his worst. And though I leave a little dust Dissolved without blood; I shall receive it safe again, When God shall see it good. For my Redeemer I am sure Doth live for evermore, And sit••eth high upon the heavens, For whom I hunger sore▪ Ev'n as the dee••▪ with deadly wounds Escaped from the spoil, Doth haste by all the means he may To seek unto the soyl. Of whom I hope to have a crown, That always shall remain; And to enjoy a perfect peace, For all my w••e and pain. The God that giveth all increase, And seeketh still to save, Abound in thee that perfect peace, Which I do hope to have. And I beseech the living God To hold thee in his hands, And wish thee ev'en with all my heart, The blessing of my bands▪ Which I esteem of higher price Than pearl or precious stone; And shall endure for evermore, When earthly things are gone. For though the fire do now consume, Our treasure and our store, Yet shall the goodness of the Lord Endure for evermore. And where thou art a friend to him That is to me full dear, That God of might make thee amends, When all men shall appear. That hath shewed mercy to the meek, And rid them out of pain: And thus the Lord possess thy spirit, Till we do meet again. If thou wilt have a recompence, Abide still in obedience.

LETTER II. The Exhortation of ROBERT SMITH to his Children, commonly set forth in the Name of Mr. ROGERS.

GIVE ear, my children, to my words, Whom God hath dearly bought▪ Lay up my law within your heart, And print it in your thought. For I your father have foreseen The frail and filthy way, Which flesh and blood would follow fain, Even to their own decay. For all and every living beast, Their crib do know full well: But Adam's heirs above the rest, Are ready to rebel: And all the creatures on the earth Full well can keep their way: But man, above all other beasts, Is apt to go astray. For earth and ashes is his strength, His glory and his reign; And unto ashes at the length, Shall he return again. For flesh doth flourish like a flower, And grow up like the grass, And is consumed in an hour, As it is brought to pass. In me the image of your years, Your treasure and your trust: Whom ye do see before your face, Dissolved into dust. For as you see your father's ••lesh Converted into clay: Even so shall ye, my children dear. Consume and wear away.

The 〈…〉〈…〉 the stars, That serve the day and night: The earth and ev'ry earthly thing Shall be consumed quite. And all the worship that is wrought, That have been heard or seen, Shall clean consume and come to nought, As it had never been. Therefore that ye may follow me, Your father and your friend, And enter into that same life, Which never shall have end: I leave you here a little book, For you to look upon: That you may see your father's face, When I am dead and gone. Who for the hope of heav'nly things, While he did here remain, Gave over all his golden years In prison and in pain, Where I among mine iron bands, Inclosed in the dark, Not many days before my death Did dedicate this work, To you mine heirs of earthly things, Which I have left behind: That ye may read and understand, And keep it in your mind; That as you have been heirs of that Which once shall wear away: Even so ye may possess the part Which never shall decay. In following of your father's foot, In truth and also love: That ye may likewise be his heirs For evermore above. And in example to your youth, To whom I wish all good, I preach you here a perfect faith, And seal it with my blood. Have God always before your eyes, In all your whole intents: Commit not sin in any wise, Keep his commandments. Abhor that tyrant who••e of Rome, And all her blasphemies; And drink not of her decretals, Nor yet of her decrees. Give honour to your mother dear, Remember well her pain: And recompense her in her age, In like with love again. Be always aiding at her hand, And let her not decay: Remember well your father's fa••l, That should have been her stay. Give of your portion to the poor, As riches do arise: And from the needy naked soul Turn not away your eyes. For he that will not hear the cry Of such as are in need, Shall cry himself and not be heard, When he would hope to speed. If God have given you great increase, And blessed well your store: Remember ye are put in trust, To minister the more. Beware of foul and filthy lust, Let whoredom have no place: Keep clean your vessels in the Lord, That he may you embrace. Ye are the temples of the Lord, For ye are dearly bought: And they that do defile the same, Shall surely come to nought. Possess not pride in any case, Build not your nests too high: But have always before your face, That ye be born to die. Defraud not him that hired is, Your labours to sustain; But give him always out of hand, His penny for his pain. And as ye would that other men Against you should proceed; Do ye the same again to them When they do stand in need. And part your portion with the poor, In money and in meat: And feed the fainted seeble soul, With that which ye should eat. That when your body lacketh meat, And clothing to your back, Ye may the better think on them That now do live and lack. Ask counsel also at the wise, Give ••ar unto the end: Refuse not you the sweet rebuke Of him that is your friend. Be thankful always to the Lord, With prayer and with praise: Desire you him in all your deeds, For to direct your ways▪ And sin not like that sw••••ish sort, Wh••se be lies being fed, Consume their years upon the earth From ••••lly unto bed. Seek first, I 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the living God; Set him alwa•••• b••fore▪ And 〈…〉〈…〉 he will bless 〈1 line〉〈1 line〉

And thus if you direct your days According to this book, Then shall they say that see your ways, How like me ye do look. And when you have so perfectly, Upon your fingers ends, Possessed all within your book, Then give it to your friends. And I beseech the living God, Replenish you with grace, That I may have you in the heav'ns, And see you face to face. And though the sword have cut me off, Contrary to my kind, That I could not enjoy your love, According to my mind: Yet I do hope that when the heav'ns Shall vanish like a scrole, I shall receive your perfect shape, In body and in soul. And that I may enjoy your love, And you enjoy the land, I do beseech the living God To hold you in his hand. Farewel, my children, from the world, My children and my friends: I hope to God to have you all When all things have their ends. And if you do abide in God, As you have now begun; Your course I warrant will be short, Ye have not far to run. God grant you so to end your years As he shall think it best; That ye may enter into heav'n, Where I do hope to rest.

LETTER III. To his BROTHER.

AS nature doth me bind, Because thou art my blood, According to my kind, To give thee of my good. That thou may'st have in mind How I have run my race, Although thou stay'st behind But for a little space. I give thee here a pearl, The price of all my good, For which I leave my life, To buy it with my blood▪ Mor•• worth than a•••• the world, Or aught that I can note, Although it be be-••••ad In such a simple coat. For when I had obtain'd This pearl of such a price, Then was I sure I gain'd The way for to be wise. It taught me how to fight. My flesh for to despise, To stick unto the light, Also to leave the lies▪ In sending out my seed, With bonds and bitter tears, That I might reap with joy, In everlasting years. And have for all my loss My travel and my pain, A thousand times and more, Of better goods again. And for because the good, That hath been got and gain'd, And that the Lord's elect, Hath ever more obtain'd, Is closed in this book Which I do give to thee, Wherein I have my part, As thou thyself may'st see. In which I hope thou hast A stock also in sto••e: And will not cease to fail, Till God hath made it more. I will thee to beware, Be sure thou keep it well: For if thou do it lose, Thy part shall be in hell. And here I testify Before the living God, That I detest to do The things that are forbid. And as my judgment is, My body to be burnt, My heart is surely set, Therewith to be content. And since it is his will, To put me in his power, Upon his holy hill To fight against this whore; Full well I am content, If he allow it so, To stand with all my might, The whore to overthrow. Even with a willing mind, The death I will outface: And as I am assur'd, The battle to embrace. That they which hear the truth How I have past the pike, May set aside their youth, And learn to do the like. And though it be my lot, To let her suck my blood,

Yet I am well assur'd, It shall do her no good. For she is set to kill The things she thinks accurst, And shall not have her fill Of blood until she burst. And when thou shalt perceive, Or hear of my decease, Pray to the living God, That I may sleep in peace. And when I am at rest, And rid out of my pain; Then will I do the like, For thee to God again. And to my woful wife, And widow desolate, Whom I do leave behind, In such a simple state; Encompassed with tears, And mournings many a one; Be thou her staying staff When I am dead and gone. My mouth may not express The dolours of my mind: Nor yet my heaviness, To leave her here behind. But as thou art my bone, My brother and my blood, So let her have thy heart, If it may do her good. I took her from the world, And made her like the cross, But if she hold her own, She shall not suffer loss. For where she had before A man unto her make, That by the force of fire Was strangled at the stake: Now shall she have a king To be her helping hand: To whom pertain all things That are within the land. Also my daughter dear Whom I bequeath to thee, To be brought up in fear, And learn the A B C. That she may grow in grace, And ruled by the rod: To learn and lead her life Within the fear of God. And always have in mind, Thy brother being dead, That thou art left behind A father in my stead. And thou, my brother dear, Who art my mother's son, Come forth out of all fear, And do as I have done. And God shall be thy guide, And give thee such increase, That in the flames of fire Thou shalt have perfect peace. Into eternal joy, And pass out of all pain; Where we shall meet with mirth, And never part again.

If thou wilt do my daughter good, Be mindful of thy brother's blood.

Written at the Request of a Lady in her Book.

IF you will walk the way That Christ hath you assign'd, Th••n learn this li••tle verse, Which I have left behind. Be fervent in the truth, Although it bear the blame; Likewise apply your youth, To stick unto the same. That when old age is come, And death begins to call, The truth may be your staff, To stay you up withal. And though it bring rebuke, And make you kiss the cross, Yet is it a reward To all that suffer loss. For here we do lay out The things that be but vain; But we are sure to reap The things that do remain. For all that ye do lose, Is but a sinful sl••••e, And like unto a rose That tarri••th but a time. But if ••e carry Christ, And walk the perfect way, Ye shall possess the gold, That 〈◊〉〈◊〉 shall d••••ay. And all your father's goods Shall be your recompence ••f ye confess the word With d••uble dilig••nce. Not only for to hear His pure and perfect word, But also to embrace The fire and the sword. And if ••e keep this path, And do not run a-c••ook, Then shall ••e 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the man That w••••t this in you•• book, In that 〈…〉〈…〉, That alwa••s shall 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ Thus 〈…〉〈…〉 friend, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 we do meet again.

Legem Pone.

TEACH me, O Lord, to walk thy ways, My living to amend, And I shall keep it all my days, Even to my life's end. Give me a mind to understand, So shall I never start: But shall keep all thy precepts, Ev'n wholly with my heart. Make me to go a perfect pace In what I have begun: For all my love and my delight Is in thy ways to run. Incline mine heart unto thy ways, Set thou thereon my thought: And let me not consume my days, To covet what is naught. O quicken me in all thy ways, The world now to despise: And from all fond and foolish toys, Turn thou away mine eyes. O plant in me thy perfect word, Which is to me so dear: Lay up thy laws within my heart, To keep me still in fear. And rid me of that great rebuke Which I do fear ••ull sore▪ For all thy judgments and thy law Endure for ever more. B••hold, O Lord, in thy precepts Is all my whole delight: O quicken me in all thy ways, That I may walk aright.

LETTER IV. From Mr. ROBERT SMITH to his Wife.

THE God and Father eternal, who brought again from death our Lord Jesus Christ, keep thee, dear wife, now and ever, Amen; thy parents and all thy friends. I praise God for his mercy, I am in the same state that you left me in, rather better than worse, looking daily for the living God, before whom I hunger full sore to appear, and receive the glory, of which I trust thou art willing to be partaker. I give God most hearty thanks therefore, de|siring thee of all things to stand in that faith which thou hast received; and let no man take away the seed that Al|mighty God hath sown in thee, but lay hands on everlast|ing life which shall ever abide, when both the earth and all earthly friends shall perish, desiring them also to receive thankfully our trouble, which is momentary and light, and as St Paul saith, not worthy to be compared with those things which God hath prepared for us; that we patiently carrying our cross, may attain to the place where our Sa|viour Christ is gone before, to which I beseech God of his mercy bring us speedily. I have been much troubled about your deliverance, fearing much the persuasion of worldlings, and have found a friend, who will (I trust) find a means for you, if you be not already provided, de|siring you in any case to abide such order, as those my friends shall appoint in God. And bear well in mind the words which I spake at our parting, that as God hath found us, and also elected us as worthy to suffer for him, we may endeavour ourselves to follow uprightly in this our vocation, desiring you to present my hearty commendations to all our friends, and especially to your parents, keeping your sentiments close in any wife. Give most hearty thanks to my friend, who is come to Windsor only for our cause. Continue in prayer. Do well. Be faultless in all things. Beware of abominations. Keep yourself clean from sin. Pray for me, as I do for you. I have sent you a piece of gold for a token, and most intirely desire you to send me word if you lack any thing. The Lord Jesus preserve you and your's, Amen. From Newgate, A|pril 15.

By your husband here and in heaven, ROBERT SMITH.

LETTER V. From Mr. SMITH to his Wife.

SEEK first to love God, dear wife, with your whole heart, and then shall it be easy to love your neigh|bour.

BE friendly to all creatures, and especially to your own soul.

BE always an enemy to the devil and the world, but especially to your own flesh.

IN hearing of good things, join the ears of your head and heart together.

SEEK unity and quietness with all men, but especially with your conscience; for it will not easily be intreated.

LOVE all people, but especially your enemies.

HATE the sins that are past, but especially those to come.

BE as ready to further your enemy, as he is to hinder you, that you may be a child of God.

DEFILE not that which Christ hath cleansed, lest his blood be laid to your charge.

REMEMBER that God hath hedged in your tongue, with the teeth and lips, that it might speak under correction.

BE ready at all times to look to your brother's eye, but especially in your own eye: for he that warneth others of what he himself is guilty, doth give his neighbour the clear wine, and keepeth the dregs to himself.

BEWARE of riches and worldly honour; for without understanding, prayer, and fasting, it is a snare; and also poverty, all which are like to a consuming fire, of which if a man take a little, it will warm him, but if he take too much, it will consume him. For it is hard for a man to carry fire in his bosom, and not be burnt.

SHEW mercy to the saints for Christ's sake, and Christ shall reward you for the saints' sake. Among all other prisoners visit your own soul, for it is inclosed in a perilous prison.

IF you will love God, hate evil, and you shall obtain the reward of well-doing.

THUS fare you well, good Anne. Have me heartily commended to all that love the Lord unfeignedly. I be|seech you, have me in your prayer whilst I am living, and I am assured the Lord will accept it. Bring up my chil|dren and your's in the fear of God, and then I shall not fail to receive you together, in the everlasting kingdom of God, which I go unto.

Your husband, ROBERT SMITH.

If you will meet with me again,Forsake not Christ for any pain.

LETTER VI. From the Same to the Same.

GRACE, mercy, and peace from God the Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ, be with you, dear wife, now and ever, Amen, and prevent your ways through his holy Spirit, that you may eschew evil, to his honour, and your salvation; that they which see your conversation may in all things learn to do the like, even to the u••••er shame and confusion of the wicked and ungodly. Amen▪

I sent you by Mr. Alexander a purse with money. I have certain token▪ for you, sent by my fellow-prisoners to you, that is from Mr. Haukes, 12d. from Mr. Simpson, 12d. from his wife, 4d. from Mr. Watts, five new groats; from Mr. Ardeley, 12d. from Mr. Bradford, 12d. which men are all gone to death, except Mr. Bradford, who still remaineth. There is also gone to death Nicholas Cham|berlain, Thomas Osmond, and William Bamford. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 is also condemned this Monday, Dirick Carver, Thomas I••e••on, John Launder, and William Vassay is reprieved Pray God to have mercy on his people; and bid my ••ea|ther, if he can conveniently, come down on Monday 〈◊〉〈◊〉; if he cannot well do 〈◊〉〈◊〉, let him bide at home. Commend 〈◊〉〈◊〉 heartily to your parents. I have sent each of them a token, a bowed great, and desire them for God's sake to help 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with their prayers. Have little Katharine in mind. Com|mend me unto all good friends. Continue in prayer. Be|ware of vanity. Let not God be dishonoured in your conversation, but like a good matron keep your vessel i•• holiness. The peace of God remain with you for eve•• Amen.

MY brother Iveson sendeth to you a token, to your mo|ther a token, and to Katharine a token, three pence. John Launder s••ndeth you a piece of Spanish money. Father ••••|rault a six penny piece. William Andrews sendeth a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of ginger▪ and I send your mother one, and a nutmeg. I send Katharine co••fits, for a token to eat. I have sent you a key-clog for a token.

Your husband, ROBERT SMITH.

LETTER VII. From Mr. SMITH to his FRIEND.

THE eternal God keep you in his fear. I have hearty commendations to you and your husband, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Almighty God to preserve you in well doing, and i•• perfect knowledge of his Christ, that you may be found faultless in the day of the Lord. I have heard say, that my friend is given over to vanity; it breaketh my heart not only to hear that he so doeth, but also teacheth others that it is no crime to go to all abomination, which now stand in the idols temples: nevertheless, dear friend, be you not moved to follow sinners, for they have no inheritance with God and Christ But look that by going into the idol temple, you 〈…〉〈…〉 the temple of God; for light hath no fellowship with 〈◊〉〈◊〉. But look, what the Lord hath commanded, that do For if not going to church were without persecution, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 would not learn you that lesson. But all things that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sweet to the flesh, are allowed of the fleshly. The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 shall reward every man according to his works, and he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 leadeth into captivity, shall go into captivity; and he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 by the fleshly man is led into the flesh, shall of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 reap corruption. The Lord Jesus give thee his holy Spi|rit, Amen.

I have sent thee an epistle in metre, which is not to be laid up in thy coff••r, but in thy heart.

SEEK peace and insure it. Fear God, love God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, and with all thy strength.

Thy friend, and all men's, in Christ Jesus, ROBERT SMITH.

Scribbled in much haste from Newgate, May 12.

ROBERT SMITH to all the faithful Servants of CHRIST, exhorting them to be strong under Persecution.

CONTENT thyself with patience, With Christ to bear the cross of pain, Which can and will thee recompense, A thousand fold with joys again Let nothing cause thy heart to fail, Launch out thy boat, haul up thy sail, Put from the shore: And be thou sure thou shalt attain, Unto the port that shall remain For evermore.

The Martyrdom of STEPHEN HARWOOD and THO|MAS FUST.

ABOUT this time also died these two martyrs of God, Stephen Harwood at Stratford, and Thomas Fust at Ware. Who, as they were burn•• much about the same time (though not at the same place) with the aforesaid Robert Smith and Georg•• Tankerfield, so were they likewise examined and openly condemned together with them; and as the proceedings against them all were alike. I thought it needless to repeat the same; only there is one thing more to be added concerning Thomas Fust, who at his last appear••nce on the 12th of July, be|ing moved by the bishop to revoke his opinion, answered thus: No, my lord, for no truth cometh out of our mouth, but all lies: you condemn men, and will not hear the truth. Where can you find any anointing or greasing in God's book? I speak nothing but the truth, and I am certain that it is the truth that I speak. This answer of Thomas Fust only, I find noted by the register: and how unfaithful these registers have been, (I mean in omitting those things that were most worthy of note, in order to render the martyrs ridiculous to the people) is very evident in many places of thi•• history. But to be short, when they had made their answers, both he and Stephen Harwood were, for their faithful perseverance, condemned together by the bishop in his accustomed pity, to be burnt as heretics, and so (as you have heard before) they finished their martyrdom, the one at Stratford, and the other at Ware, in the month of August, and year abovesaid.

The Martyrdom of WILLIAM HALE, at Barnet.

OF the same company with those ten before re|corded, who were sent to bishop Bonner by sir Nicholas Hare and other commissioners, in the company of George Tankerfield and Robert Smith, was also William Hale, of Thorp, in the county of Essex, who likewise being examined with the rest, the 12th of July, received with them also the sen|tence of condemnation; giving this exhortation withal to the lookers on: Ah, good people, said he, beware of this idolater, and this Antichrist (point|ing to the bishop of London); and so he was de|livered to the sheriffs to be burnt as an heretic, who sent him to Barnet, where about the latter end of August he most constantly sealed up his faith with the consuming of his body by cruel fire, yielding his soul to the Lord Jesus, his only and most sure Redeemer.

An Account of GEORGE KING and THOMAS LEYES, who died, and were buried in the Fields.

MENTION was made before of ten persons sent out of Newgate by Mr. Hare and other commissioners, to be examined by Bonner, bishop of London: of whom six already have been execut|ed in several places, as hath been shewed; whose names were Elizabeth Warn, George Tankerfield, Robert Smith, Stephen Harwood, Thomas Fust, and William Hale. The other three, namely, George King, Thomas Leves, and John Wa••e, f••lling sick in Lollard's Tower, were so weak th••t they were removed into sundry houses within the city of London, and there died, and were thrown out into the fi••lds, and there buried 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the night by some of the faithful brethren, when 〈…〉〈…〉 the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 time durst do it, Propter metum J••••••••orum. The l••st that remained of this company a••oresaid was

Joan Laysh, or Layshford, the daughter-in-law of John Warn, and Elizabeth Warn, martyrs: but because she was reprieved to another time, her story and martyrdom we will defer till the month of Ja|nuary the next year following.

An Account of WILLIAM ANDREW.

THE like catholic charity was also shewed upon William Andrew, of Horsley, in the county of Essex, carpenter, who was brought to Newgate the first day of April, 1555, by John Mo|tham, constable of Malden in Essex. The first and principal promoter of him was the lord Rich, who sent him first to prison. Also sir Richard South|well, knight, was another great enemy to him, as appeareth by a letter written by him to Bonner, which here followeth.

A LETTER From Sir RICHARD SOUTHWELL to BONNER, Bishop of London.

MAY it please your lordship to understand, that the lord Rich did about seven or eight weeks past, send up unto the council one William Andrew, of Thorp, within the county of Essex, an arrogant heretic. Their pleasure was to command me to commit him to Newgate, where he remain|eth; and as I am informed, hath infected a number in that prison with his heresy. Your lordship shall do very well if it please you to convent him before you, and to take order with him as his case doth require. I know the council meant to have writ herein unto your lordship, but by occa|sion of other business, the thing hath been omitted. Wherefore knowing their good pleasure, I did ad|vise the keeper of Newgate to wait on you with these few lines. And so referring the rest to your virtuous consideration, I remain your lordship's to command.

June 12, 1555.

RICHARD SOUTHWELL.

THIS William Andrew being twice examined be|fore bishop Bonner, there 〈…〉〈…〉 in defence of his religion. At length, by the severe usage he met with in Newgate prison, ••e there lost his life which otherwise would have been taken away by fire: and so after the popish manner he was cast out into a field, and by night was privately buried by the hands of good men and faithful brethren.

The Martyrdom of Mr. ROBERT SAMUEL, Minister of Barfold, in Suffolk.

MR. Foster, a justice, dwelling at Cobdock, near Ipswich, in the county of Suffolk, be|ing in continual hatred against the truth and the professors of the same, his constant study night and day was how to bring those into thraldom and cap|tivity, that were honest and piously inclined to re|ligion; but also whatsover they were that once came into his claws, could not easily escape without 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of conscience or loss of life, so greedy was he of blood. Among many whom he had troubled▪ there was one Samuel, in king Edward's days, a very godly and faithful preacher of God's word, who for his valiant and constant behaviour in his sermons, seemeth worthy of high admiration. He was minister at Barfold, in Suffolk, where he indu|striously and successfully taught the flock which the Lord had committed to his charge, so long as the time would suffer him to do his duty.

AT last being removed from the ministry, and put from his benefice, (as many other good pastors were when he could not avoid the raging violence of the time, yet would he not give over his care that he had for his flock, but would teach the•• privily and by stealth, when he could not openly 〈◊〉〈◊〉 so. At which time order was given by the queen, to be published by the commissioners, that all priests which had been married in king Edward's days, should put away their wives from them, and be compelled to return again to their chastity and sin|gle life. This decree Mr. Samuel would not stand to, because he knew it to be manifestly wicked and abominable; but determining with himself, that God's laws were not to be broke for man's tradi|tions, still kept his wife at Ipswick, and gave his diligence in the mean time to the instructing of others which were about him, as occasion served. At last Mr. ••oster having int••••••igence hereof, being a great doer in those parts, spared no time not diligence, but quickly sent his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 abroad,

laying close wait for Mr. Samuel, that if he came home to his wife at any time, they might appre|hend him, and carry him to prison.

IN conclusion, when such as should betray him espied him at home with his wife, they brought word to the officer, who came to the house, and be|set it with a great company, and so took him in the night-season, because they durst not do it in the day time for fear of trouble and tumult, although good Mr. Samuel did not withstand them at all, but meekly yielded himself into their hands of his own accord. When they had thus caught him, they put him into Ipswich jail, where he patiently spent his time among his pious brethren, so long as he was permitted to continue there. However, not long after, being taken from thence, he was carried (through the malice of the wicked sort) to Nor|wich, where Dr. Hopton, bishop of that diocese, and Dr. Dunnings, his chancellor, exercised great cruelty against him, as indeed they were men, in that time of persecution, as had not their matches for cruel tormenting the bodies of the martyrs among all the rest; and especially through the pro|curing of D••nnings. For although the others were sharp enough in their generation, yet would they be satisfied with imprisonment and death, and could go no farther. Neither did I ever yet hear of any besides these, who so far exceeded all bounds of pity and compassion in tormenting their poor brethren, as this bishop did; in such sort, that many of them he perverted, brought quite from the truth, and some from their wits also.

THE bishop therefore, or else his chancellor, thinking that he might as easily prevail with Mr. Samuel, as he had lone with the others before, kept him in a very close prison at his first com|ing, where he was chained bolt-up••right to a post, in such sort, that standing only on tip-toe, he was fain to stay up the whole poise or weight of his body thereby. And to make amends for the cruelty or pain that he suffered, they added a far mo•••• grievous torment, keeping him without meat and drink, whereby he was unmercifully ve••ed through hunger and thirst▪ saving that he had every day allowed him two or three mouthfuls of bread, and three spoonfuls of water, to the end rather that he might be reserved to farther torment, than that they would preserve his life. 'O worthy constancy of the martyr! O pitiless hearts of papists, worthy to be complained of, and to be accused before God and nature! O the wonderful strength of Christ in his members! Whose heart, though it had been made of adamant stone, would not have relented at the intolerable vexations, and extreme pains above nature! How often would he have drunk his own water; but his body was so dried up with his long emptiness, that he was not able to make one drop.

AT last, when he was brought forth to be burn|ed, which was but a trifle in comparison of those pains that he had passed, there were several that heard him declare what strange things had happen|ed unto him during the time of his imprisonment: to wit, that after he had been famished or pined with hunger two or three days together, he then fell into a sleep, as it were one half in a slumber, at which time one clad all in white seemed to stand be|fore him, which administered comfort unto him by these words: "Samuel, Samuel, be of good cheer, and take a good heart unto thee. For after this day shalt thou never be either hungry or thirsty." Which came to pass accordingly, for soon after he was burned; and from that time till he suffered, he felt neither hunger nor thirst. And this he declar|ed, to the end as he said, that all men might behold the wonderful works of God. Many other mat|ters concerning the great comfort he had of Christ in his afflictions he could utter, he said, besides this, but that shamefacedness and modesty would not suffer him to utter it. And yet if it had pleased God, I wish he had been less modest in that behalf, that the love and care that Christ hath of his ser|vants, might have the more appeared thereby unto us by such present arguments, for the more plenti|ful comfort of the godly, though there be sufficient testimonies of the same in the holy scriptures already.

NO less memorable it is, and worthy also to be noted, concerning the three ladders which he told to divers, he saw in his sleep set up towards heaven; of which there was one somewhat longer than the rest, but yet at length they became one, joining (as it were) all three together. I his was a forewarn|ing revealed unto him, declaring undoubtedly▪ the martyrdom first of himself, 〈…〉〈…〉 the death of

two honest women, who were brought forth and suffered in the same town not long after.

AS this pious martyr was going to the stake, a certain maid came to him, and took him about the neck and kissed him, which being marked by them that were present, was sought for the next day after to be had to prison and burned, as the very party herself informed me: however, as God of his good|ness would have it, she escaped their fiery hands, keeping herself secret in the town a good while after But as this maid, called Rose Nottingham, was marvellously preserved by the providence of God; so there were two other honest women that fell into the rage and fury of that time. The one was a brewer's wife, the other was a shoemaker's wife, but both together now espoused to a new hus|band, Christ.

WITH these two this maid aforesaid was very familiar and well acquainted, who on a time giving counsel to one of them, that she should convey her|self away while she had time and space, seeing she could not away with the queen's proceedings; had this answer at her hands again: I know well, saith she, that it is well enough to fly away, which remedy you may use if you please. But my case standeth otherwise. I am tied to an husband, and have be|sides young children at home▪ and then I know not how my husband, being a carnal man, will take my departure from him; therefore I am minded, for the love of Christ and his truth, to stand to the extremity of the matter.

AND so the next day after Mr. Sam••el suffered, these two pious wives, the one named A••••e Potten, the other Joan Trunchfield, wife of Michael Trunchfield, shoemaker of Ipswich, wer•• appre|hended, and both had to prison together. Who, as they were both by sex and nature somewhat ••••nder, so were they at first less able to endure the stra••ness of the prison, and especially the brewer's wife ••as cast into marvellous great agonies and troubles ••f mind thereby. But Christ beholding the weak in firmi••y of his servant, did not sail to help her when she was in this necessity. So at length they both suffered after Samuel, Feb. 19, 1550, as shall be by God's grace declared hereafter. And these, no doubt, were those two ladders, which being joined with the third, Samuel saw stretched up into ••••••••ven. This blessed Samuel, the servant of Christ, suffered the 3•••••• of August, 1555.

THE report goeth among some that were 〈◊〉〈◊〉 present, and saw him burn, that his body in burning did shine as bright and white as new tried silver 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the eyes of them that were there, and did behold the ••ight.

An Account of WILLIAM ALLEN, Martyr.

NOW after the suffering of Robert Samuel, about the beginning of September, William Allen was burnt in Wa••singham, a labouring 〈◊〉〈◊〉, sometime servant to John Houghton, of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 He being brought to the bishop, and asked the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 why he was imprisoned, answered, That he was put in prison because he would not follow the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 saying, that he would never go in procession.

THEN being willed by the bishop to return a|gain to the catholic church; he answered, That he would turn to the catholic church, but not to the Romish church: and said, That if he saw the king and queen, and all others follow the cross, or 〈◊〉〈◊〉 down to the cross, he would not. For which, sentence of condemnation was given against him the 12th of August, to be burnt at Walsingham about the beginning of Sept. who declared such constan|cy at his martyrdom, and had such credit with the justices, by reason of his well tried conversation among them, that he was suffered to go untied 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his suffering, and there being fastened with a 〈◊〉〈◊〉, stood quietly without shrinking until he died.

The Martyrdom of ROGER COO, first examined by the Bishop of NORWICH, and by him condemned, August 1••, 1555.

ROGER COO, being brought before the bi|shop, was first asked by him, why he was ••mprisoned?

Coo.

At the justice's commandment.

Bishop.

There was some cause why.

Coo.

Here is my accuser, let him declare.

AND his accuser said, that he would not receive the sacrament.

THEN the bishop said, that he thought he had transgressed a law.

BUT Coo answered, that there was no law to transgress.

THE bishop then asked, What he said to the law that then was?

COO answered, that he had been in prison a long time, and knew it not.

NO, said his accuser, nor will not. My lord, ask him when he received the sacrament.

WHEN Coo heard him say so, he said, I pray you, my lord, let him sit down and examine me himself.

BUT the bishop would not hear that, but said, Coo, why will you not receive?

HE answered him, That the bishop of Rome had changed God's ordinances, and given the people bread and wine instead of the gospel, and the belief of the same.

Bishop.

How prove you that?

Coo.

Our Saviour said, "My flesh is meat in|deed, and my blood is drink indeed. He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood abideth in me, and I in him;" and the bread and wine doth not so.

Bishop.

Well, Coo, thou dost slander our holy fathers. Did not Christ take bread, give thanks, and break it, and said, "This is my body?"

YES, said he▪ and so he went further with the text, saying, "Which shall be given for you: do 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in remembrance of me."

Bishop.

You have said the truth.

THEN Coo replied further, and said, Christ commanded to do this in remembrance of him, and not to say this in remembrance of him; neither did the Holy Ghost so lead the apostles, but taught them to give thanks, and to break bread from house to house, and not to say as the bishop said.

Bishop.

How prove you that?

Coo.

It is written in Acts ii.

THEN the bishop's chaplain said it was true.

THE bishop asked him if he could say his creed.

HE answered yea, and so said part of the creed; and then after, he said he believed more; for be believed the Ten Commandments, that it was meet for all such as look to be saved, to be obedient unto them.

Bishop.

Is not the holy church to be believed also?

Coo.

Yes, if it be built upon the word of God.

THE bishop said to Coo, that he had the charge of his soul.

Coo.

Have you so, my lord? Then if you go to the devil for your sins, what shall become of me?

Bishop.

Do you not believe as your father did? Was he not an honest man?

Coo.

It is written, that after Christ hath suf|fered, "There 〈◊〉〈◊〉 come a people with the prince that shall destroy both city and sanctuary." I pray you shew me whether this destruction was in my father's time, or now?

THE bishop not answering his question, asked him, whether he would not obey the king's laws?

Coo.

As far as they agree with the word of God I will obey them.

Bishop.

Whether they agree with the word of

God or not, we are bound to obey them, if the king were an infidel.

Coo.

If Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed•• go▪ had so done, Nebuchadnezzar had not confessed the living God.

Bishop.

These two and twenty years we have 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••overned by such kings.

〈◊〉〈◊〉

My lord, why were you then dumb, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••ot speak or bark?

Bishop.

I durst not for fear of death. And thus they ended.

BUT after this done, it was reported that I rail|ed; wherefore I recollected, and wrote down my railing (as they called it) that light should not be taken for darkness, nor sin for holiness, and the devil for God, who ought to be feared and honour|ed both now and for ever, Amen.

THIS Roger Coo, an aged father, after his sundry troubles and conflicts with his adversaries, at length was committed to the fire at Yexford, in the county of Suffolk, where he most blessedly ended his aged years, in the month of September, 1555.

An Account of THOMAS COB, of HAVERHILL, Butcher, and Martyr.

THOMAS COB, of Haverhill, butcher, was condemned on the 12th day of August, and executed in the month of September. Being brought and examined by Michael Dunnings, the bloody chancellor of Norwich; first, whether he believed that Christ is really and substantially in the sacrament of the altar; answered, That the body of Christ, born of the virgin, was in heaven, and otherwise (he said) he would not answer, because he had read it in the scripture, that Christ did ascend, and never did descend since; and therefore said, that he had no•• ••ea••••ed in the scripture, that Christ should be i•• the sacrament.

FURTHERMORE, being demanded whether he would obey the laws of the realm of England made for the unity of faith, or no: he answer•••• That his body should be at the king and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 commandment so far as the law of God 〈◊〉〈◊〉 suffer, &c. In fine, he being condemned, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 burnt in the town of Thetford, in Septe•••••••• 1555.

An Account of the Martyrdom of GEORGE C••••••MER, ROBERT STREATER, ANTHONY BURWA•••••• GEORGE BRODBRIDGE, and JAMES TUTT••.

NOW to return to Norfolk and Suffo••••▪ the diocese of Canterbury, where w•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 treat of five worthy martyrs, whose blood i•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 same year and month of September, was 〈…〉〈…〉 for the true testimony of Christ and his gospel▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉 names of whom are as follow.

GEORGE CATMER, of Hith; Robert 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Hi••h; Anthony Burward, of Calete; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Brodbridge, of Bromfield; James Tutty, of 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

THESE upon the third day of August 〈◊〉〈◊〉 brought before Dr. Thornton the aforesaid 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Dover, and his accomplices, and there 〈◊〉〈◊〉 both jointly and severally examined upon 〈◊〉〈◊〉 articles, touching the sacrament of the altar, ••••••••cular confession, and other such like.

To which the said Catmer (being first examined made answer in this wise; Christ, said he, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in heaven on the right hand of God the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and therefore I do not believe him to be in the sa|crament of the altar; but he is in the worthy re|ceiver spiritually; and the sacrament, as you 〈◊〉〈◊〉, is an abominable idol.

NEXT unto him Robert Streater was called forth, who being asked, Whether he did 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the real presence of Christ in the sacrament of the altar, said, that he did not so believe; for you do maintain he••••sy and idolatry (says he) in that ye•• teach to worship a false god in the sacrament, en|closed in a box. It is you that are the malignant of the church▪ for in your church there are twenty things used against the law of God.

THE like objection was likewise made against Anthony Burward, who also said that their sacra|ment was made an idol.

AFTER him it was demanded of George Brod|bridge what he said to those articles. Who answer|ed, that he would not be confessed of a priest, be|cause he could not forgive his own sins. And further said, that in the sacrament of the altar there is no real body of our Saviour Christ, but bread given in remembrance of him. Moreover, as for your holy bread, your holy water, and your mass, I do (says he) utterly deny them.

AND last of all, James Tutty made and con|firmed the foregoing answers.

AND therefore they were all five condemned as heretics, and were all five burned at Canterbury in one fire, about the 6th day of September then next following.

ALTHOUGH the rage and vehemency of this terri|ble persecution in queen Mary's days did chiefly light in London, Essex, Norfolk, Suffolk, and Kent, as hath already been partly declared; yet notwith|standing, few parts of the realm were free from this fatal storm, but in almost all places some were put to death for the same righteous cause. And now to begin with the diocese of Litchfield and Co|ventry, where we shall just mention two persons, namely, Thomas Hayward, and John Goreway, who were both condemned as heretics, and were burnt at Litchfield about the middle of Septem|ber.

The History of ROBERT GLOVER, Gentleman, and Mr. JOHN GLOVER, in the diocese of LITCH|FIELD.

ROBERT GLOVER, gentleman, was like|wise apprehended, and put to death in the month of September, in the diocese of Litchfield and Coventry. Of whose apprehension and trou|bles I cannot well treat, without mentioning some things relating to John Glover, his brother, because the commission was chiefly sent down for John, and not for Robert, (although it pleased God that John escaped, and Robert was apprehen|ded) therefore I thought it necessary to comprehend them both in one story. In describing some part of their virtuous institution and order of life, I shall first begin with John the eldest brother▪ who being a gentleman, and heir to his father in the town of Mancetor, was endowed with fair posses|sions and worldly goods, but much more plenti|fully enriched with God's heavenly grace, and inward virtues: which grace so wrought in him, that he with his other brethren, Robert and Wil|liam, not only received and embraced the happy light of Christ's holy gospel, but also most zealously professed, and no less diligently in their lives and conversation followed the same.

JOHN GLOVER was a man of a very tender con|science, and seemed to have a deeper taste and contemplation of heavenly things, and more mor|tified from worldly cares than the others were. His spiritual conflicts were very extraordinary, and because the consideration of them both is wor|thy of memory, and the example may work expe|rience to the comfort of the godly, it may not be amiss to rehearse some part of them. It pleased God so to lay his heavy hand of inward afflictions and grievous passions upon him, that though he suffered not the pains of the outward fire, as his brother and other martyrs did; yet if we consider what he suffered inwardly, and that for a long time, he may well be counted a martyr with his brother Robert, being no less desirous with him of the same martyrdom; yea, and in comparison may seem to be chronicled for a double martyr.

FOR as the said Robert was speedily dispatched with the sharp and extreme torments of the fire in a short time; so this no less blessed saint of God, what, and how much more grievous pangs, what sorrowful torments, what boiling heats of the fire of hell he inwardly felt, no tongue is able to ex|press. Being young, I remember I was once or twice with him, who partly by his talk I perceived, and partly by mine own eyes saw to be so worn and consumed in the space of five years, that he could hardly digest any meat, enjoy the quietness of sleep, or pleasure of life; yea, and almost no kind of senses were left in him. And truly I have often greatly wondered at the miraculous operation of

Christ shewed upon him, who unless he had re|lieved in time his poor wretched servant so far worn, with some seasonable consolation now and then, it could not be possible for him to subsist under such intolerable agonies. And yet the oc|casion thereof was of no great moment neither. But nothing is more common amongst the holiest and best of men, by how much the more devout and watchful they are, (having the fear of God before their eyes) so much the more they mistrust and suspect themselves; whereby it cometh to pass, that they are often terrified and perplexed with small matters (in comparison) as though they were huge mountains; whereas, on the contrary, others there be whom the blackest and most heinous crimes will nothing touch or move.

THE occasion of this was, that he being first called by the light of the Holy Spirit to the know|ledge of the gospel, and having received a wonder|ful, sweet, and feeling sense of Christ's heavenly kingdom, his mind, after that, falling to some cogitation of his former affairs belonging to his vocation, began by and by to misdoubt himself upon the occasion of these words written in the 6th chapter to the Hebrews; "For it is impossible for those who were once enlightened, and have tasted of the heavenly gift, and were made partakers of the Holy Ghost, and have tasted the good word of God, and the powers of the world to come, if they shall fall away, to renew them again unto re|pentance. seeing they crucify to themselves the Son of God afresh, and put him to an open shame." Upon the consideration of which words, he fully persuaded himself that he had sinned against the Holy Ghost; even so much, that had he been in hell, he could hardly despair much more of his salvation. Every good man may readily judge, by himself, what terrors, boilings, and convul|sions, turmoiled in the mean time in his woful breast; although it be hard for any man to judge of the misery thereof, but he who hath by expe|rience felt the like,

NOW in comparing the torments of all martyrs with his pains, I pray you, what pains, punish|ment, and flames would he not willingly have suf|fered, to have had some small ease and refresh|ment? Being under such intolerable agonies of mind, that he could have no enjoyment of his food, yet was he compelled to eat against his appetit••, on purpose to defer the time of his damnation as long as he could, thinking with himself, that he must needs be thrown into hell, as soon as the breath went out of his body. However, he thought Christ pitied his case, and was sorry for him; yet he could not (as he imagined) help, be|cause of the verity of his word, which said, "It i•• impossible for those who were once enlightened," &c.

AND this I mention not to open his wound and expose his misfortunes, but to encourage all good men by his example to glorify the Son of God, who suffereth none to be tempted above his strength, but so tempereth and seasoneth the asperity of evils, that what seemeth to us intolerable, he doth not alleviate that we may bear it, but also turneth i•• more to our advantage than we can imagine▪ which manifestly appeared in this good servant of God, and in no man more. And although (as we have said) he suffered many years these sharp temp|tations and strong buffetings of Satan; yet the Lord, who graciously preserved him all the while, did not only rid him out of all discomfort, but also framed him thereby to such mortification of life, as the like probably hath not been seen, in such sort as he being like one placed in heaven already, and dead to this world, both in word and medita|tion led a life altogether celestial, abhorring in his mind all profane doings. Neither was his talk a|ny thing different from the fruits of his life, never throwing out an idle, vile, or vain word. The most part of his lands he distributed to the use of his brethren, and committed the rest to the guiding of his servants and officers whereby he might the more quietly give up himself his godly study, as to a continual Sabbath rest. This was about the latter end of king Henry's reign, and continued in the time of king Edward VI.

AFTER this, in the persecuting days of queen Mary, as soon as the bishop of Coventry heard of his fame, and of his being so ardent and zealous in the gospel of Christ, he immediately wrote a letter to the mayor and officers of Coventry,

to apprehend him as soon as possible. But by the good providence of God, it happened otherwise: for God disposeth all things after his own secret pleasure, who seeing his old trusty servant so many years with so extreme and many torments broken and dried up, would in no wise heap too many sorrows upon one poor silly wretch: neither would he commit him to the flames of fire, who had been already baked and scorched with the sharp fires of inward affliction, and had sustained so many burn|ing darts and conflicts of Satan so many years▪ God therefore, of his divine providence, thinking it too much that one man should be so overcharged with so many plagues and torments, did graciously provide, that Robert his brother being both strong|er in body, and also better furnished with helps of learning to answer the adversaries, (being a Master of Arts in Cambridge) should sustain that conflict, and even so it came to pass.

FOR as soon as the mayor of Coventry had receiv|ed the bishop's letters for the apprehending of Mr. John Glover, he forthwith sent private notice to the said John to convey himself away: who with his brother William was not so soon departed out of his house, but that yet, in the sight of the she|riff and others, the searchers came and rushed in to take him, according to the bishop's order.

BUT when the person they sought for could not be found, one of the officers going into an upper chamber, found there Robert the other brother lying on his bed, who had been long sick; and was by him immediately brought before the sheriff. Which sheriff, notwithstanding, favouring Robert, and his cause, would indeed fain have dismissed him, and wrought what means he could, saying, that he was not the man for whom they were sent: yet, nevertheless, being terrified with the threats of the officer, contending with him to have him detained till the bishop's coming, he was constrain-to carry him against his will, and so laid him fast till the bishop came. And thus much by way of pre|amble, concerning the worthy remembrance of Mr. John Glover.

NOW to enter upon the matter which principally we have in ••and, that is, to consider the s••ory and martyrdom of Mr. Robert Glover; as the whole narration was sent in a letter of his own writing to his wife, concerning the manner of his being han|dled; therefore it seemeth best, for the more credit of the matter, to exhibit his own letter, the contents of which are as follow.

LETTER From Mr. ROBERT GLOVER to his WIFE, containing the whole Description of his Troubles.

THE peace of conscience which passeth all un|derstanding, the sweet consolation, comfort, strength, and boldness of the Holy Ghost, be conti|nually increased in your heart, through a fervent, earnest, and stedfast faith in our most dear and only Saviour Jesus Christ, Amen.

I thank you heartily, most loving wife, for your letters sent to me in my imprisonment. I read them with tears more than once or twice; with tears, I say, for joy and gladness, that God had wrought in you so merciful a work; first, an unfeigned repen|tance; secondly, an humble and hearty reconcilia|tion; thirdly, a voluntary submission and obedience to the will of God in all things. Which when I read in your letters, and judged them to proceed from the bottom of your heart, I could not but be thankful to God, rejoicing with tears for you, and these his great mercies poured upon you.

THESE your letters, and the hearing of your most godly proceedings and constant doings from time to time, much relieved and comforted me at all times, and shall be a goodly testimony with you at the great day, against many worldly and dainty dames, who set more by their own pleasure and pelf in this world, than by God's glory, little regarding. as it appeareth, the everlasting health of their own souls or others. My prayer shall be whilst I am in this world, that God, which of his great mercy hath begun his good work in you, will finish it to the glory of his name; and by the mighty power and inspiration of his Holy Spirit, so strengthen, estab|lish, and confirm you in all his ways to the end, that we may together shew forth his praises in the world to come, to our unspeakable consolation ever|lastingly, Amen.

So long as God shall lend you continuance in this miserable world, above all things give yourself con|tinually to prayer, lifting up, as St. Paul saith, clean or pure hands without anger, wrath, or doubt|ing, forgiving (as he saith also) if you have any thing against any man▪ as Christ forgiveth us. And that we may be the better willing to forgive, it is good often to call to remembrance the multitude and greatness of our sins, which Christ daily and hourly pardoneth and forgiveth us; and then we shall, as St. Peter affirmeth, be ready to cover and hide the offences of our brethren, be they ever so many. And because God's word teacheth us, not only the true manner of praying, but also what we ought to do, or not to do in the whole discourse and practice of this life, what pleaseth or displeaseth God, and that, as Christ saith, "The word of God that he hath spoken, shall judge in the last day:" let your prayer be to this end especially, That God of his great mercy would open and reveal more and more daily to your heart, the true sense, knowledge, and understanding of his most holy word, and give you grace in your living, to express the fruits thereof.

AND forasmuch as it is, as the Holy Ghost cal|leth it, the word of affliction, that is, it is seldom without hatred, persecution, peril, danger of loss of life and goods, and whatsoever seemeth pleasant in this world, as experience teacheth you in this time: call upon God continually for his assistance always, as Christ teacheth, casting your accounts what it is like to cost you, endeavouring yourself, through the help of the Holy Ghost, by continuance in prayer, to lay foundation so sure, that no storm or tempest shall be able to overthrow or cast it down; remem|bering always (as Christ saith) Lot's wife; that is, to beware of looking back to that thing that displea|eth God. And because nothing displeaseth God so much as idolatry, that is, false worshipping of God, otherwise than his word commandeth; look not back (I say) nor turn your face to their idolatrous and blasphemous mass, manifestly against the word, practice, and example of Christ; as it is most ma|nifest to all that have any taste of the true under|standing of God's word, that there remaineth nothing in the church of England at this present, profitable or edifying to the church and congregation of the Lord, all things being done in an unknown tongue, contrary to the express commandment of the Ho•••• Ghost.

THEY object that they be the church, and ther••••fore they must be believed. My answer was, The church of God knoweth and acknowledgeth no other head but Jesus Christ the Son of God, whom ye have refused, and chosen the man of sin, the son of perdition, enemy to Christ, the devil's deputy and lieutenant, the pope.

Christ's church heareth, teacheth, and is ruled by his word, he saith, "my sheep hear my voice. If you abide in me, and my word in you, you may be my disciples." Their church repelleth God's words, and forceth all men to follow their traditions.

CHRIST'S church dare not add or diminish, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 or change his blessed testament▪ but they be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 afraid to take away all that Christ instituted, and go a whoring (as the scripture saith) with their own inventions: to glory and rejoice in the works of their own hands.

THE church of Christ is, hath been, and shall be in all ages under the cross, persecuted, molest•••••••• and afflicted, the world ever hating them, beca•••••• they be not of the world. But these persecute, murder, slay, and kill such as profess the true doc|trine of Christ, be they in learning, living, conver|sation, and other virtues ever so excellent.

CHRIST and his church reserved the trial of their doctrine to the word of God, and gave the people leave to judge thereof by the same word, "Search the scriptures." But this church taketh away from the people, and suffereth neither learned nor un|learned to examine or prove their doctrine by the word of God.

THE true church of God laboureth by all means to resist and withstand the lusts, desires, and mo|tions of the world, the flesh, and the devil: thes•• for the most part give themselves to all voluptuous|ness, and secretly commit such things, which (as St. Paul saith) it is shame to speak of.

BY these and such like manifest probations, they declare themselves to be none of the church of Christ, but rather of the synagogue of Satan. It shall be good for you oftentimes to confer and com|pare their proceedings and doings with the practice of those whom the word of God doth teach to have been true members of the church of God, and it shall work in you both knowledge, erudition, and boldness, to withstand with suffering their doings. I likened them therefore to Nimrod, whom the scripture calleth a mighty hunter, or a stout cham|pion, telling them, that what they could not have by the word, they would have by the sword, and be the church whether men will or no; and called them with good conscience, as Christ called their forefathers, the children of the devil; and as their father the devil is a liar and a murderer, so their kingdom and church (as they call it) standeth by lying and murdering.

HAVE no fellowship with them therefore, my dear wife, nor with their doctrine and traditions, le••t you be partaker of their sins, for whom is re|served a heavy damnation, without speedy repent|ance. Beware of such as shall advertise you to bear with the world for a season as they do. There is no dallying with God's matters: "It is a fearful thing (as St. Paul saith) to fall into the hands of the living God." Remember the prophet Elias. "Why halt ye on both sides?" Remember what Christ saith, "He that putteth his hands to the plough, and looketh back, is not worthy of me." And seeing God hath hitherto allowed you as a good soldier in the fore front, play not the coward, neither draw back to the rearward. St. John num|bereth among them that shall dwell in the fiery lake, such as be fearful in God's cause. Set always be|fore your eyes the examples of such as have beha|ved themselves boldly in God's cause, as Stephen, Peter, Paul, Daniel, the three children, the widow's sons, and in your days Anne Askew, Laurence Saunders, John Bradford, with many other faithful witnesses of Christ. "Be afraid in nothing (saith St. Paul) of the adversaries of Christ's doctrine, which is to them the sign of perdition, but to you of eternal salvation." Christ commandeth the same, saying, "Fear them not." Let us not follow the example of him which asketh time first to take leave of his friends. If we so do, we shall find few of them that will encourage us to go forward in our business, please it God ever so much. We do not read that James and John, Andrew and Simon, when they were called, put off the time till they had known their fathers or friends pleasure. But the scripture saith, "They forsook all, and by and by followed Christ." Christ likened the kingdom of God to a precious pearl, which whosoever find|eth, selleth all that he hath to buy it. Yea, whoso|ever hath but a little taste or glimmering how pre|cious a treasure the kingdom of heaven is, will gladly forego both life and goods for the obtaining of it. But the most part now-a-days are like E|sop's cock, which when he had found a precious stone, wished rather to have found a barley corn. So ignorant are they how precious a jewel the word of God is, that they chuse rather the things of this world, which being compared to it, are less in value than a barley-corn.

IF I would have given place to worldly reasons, these might have moved me: first, the leaving of you and my children; the consideration of the state of my children, being yet tender of age, and young, apt and inclinable to virtue and learning, and so having the more need of my assistance, being not altogether destitute of gifts to help them withal; possessions above the common sort of men; because I was never called to be a preacher or minister; and (because of my sickness) fear of death in im|prisonment before I should come to answer, and so my death to be unprofitable.

BUT these and such like, I thank my heavenly Father, (who of his infinite mercy inspired me with his Holy Spirit, for his Son's sake, my only Saviour and Redeemer) prevailed not in me: but when I had by the wonderful permission of God fallen into their hands, at the first sight of the sheriff, nature a little abashed; yet before I came to the prison, by the working of God, and through his goodness, fear departed. I said to the sheriff at his coming to me, What matter have you, Mr. Sheriff, to charge me withal? He answered, You shall know when you come before the masters; and so taking me with him, I expected to be carried before the masters, and to have heard what they could have burdened me withal; but, contrary to my expecta|tion, I was committed forthwith to the gaol, not

being called to my answer, little justice being shew|ed therein. But the less justice a man findeth at their hands, the more consolation in conscience shall he find from God; for whosoever is of the world, the world will love him.

AFTER I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 into prison, and had reposed my|self there a 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ I wept for joy and gladness, my belly-full, musi•••• much of the great mercies of God, and (as it were) saying to myself after this sort: O Lord, who am I, on whom thou shouldst bestow this thy great mercy, to be numbered among the saints that suffer for the gospel's sake? And so beholding and considering on the one side my imperfection, unableness, sinful misery, and unwor|thiness, and on the other side the greatness of God's mercy, to be called to so high promotion, I was, as it were amazed and overcome for a whil•• with joy and gladness, concluding thus with myself in my heart; O Lord, thou shewest power in weakness, wisdom in foolishness, mercy in sinfulness; who shall hinder thee to chuse where and whom thou wilt? As I have zealously loved the confession of thy word, so I ever thought myself to be most unworthy to be partaker of the affliction for the fame.

NOT long after Mr. W. Brasbridge, Mr. C. Phi|neas, and Mr. Hopkins, came unto me, persuading with me to be dismissed upon bonds. To whom my answer was (to my remembrance) after this sort: forasmuch as the masters have imprisoned me, having nothing to burden me withal; if I should enter into bonds, I should in so doing accuse myself; and seeing they have no matter to lay to my charge, they may as well let me pass without bonds as with them.

SECONDLY, If I shall enter bonds, covenant and promise to appear, I shall do nothing but excuse, colour, and cloak their wickedness, and endanger myself nevertheless, being bound by my promise to appear. They used many worldly persuasions to me to avoid the present peril, and also how to avoid the forfeiture if I brake my promise. I said unto them, I had cast up my penny-worth by God's help. They undertook also to make the bond easy.

AND when they were somewhat importunate, I said to Mr. Hopkins, That liberty of conscience was a precious thing; and took, as it were a 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ lifting up my heart to God earnestly for his aid and help, that I might do the thing that might 〈◊〉〈◊〉 him. And so when they had let their suit fall, my heart (methought) was wonderfully comforted Mr. Dudley communed with me in like manner▪ whom I answered in effect as I did before.

AFTERWARDS debating the matter with myself▪ these considerations came into my head; I have from time to time with good conscience (God! take to record) moved all such as I had conference withal to be no dalliers in God's matters, but to shew themselves, after so great a light and know|ledge, hearty, earnest, constant, and stable in so manifest a truth, and not to give place one jot con|trary to the same. Now thought I, if I shall with|draw myself, and make any shifts to pull my own neck out of the collar, I shall give great offence 〈◊〉〈◊〉 my weak brethren in Christ, and advantage to the enemies to slander God's word. It will be said▪ He hath encouraged others to be earnest and fer|vent, to fear no worldly perils or dangers, but he himself will give no such example.

WHERE••ORE I thought it my bounden duty, both to God and man, being (as it were) by the great goodness of God marvellously called and appointed hereunto, to set aside all fear, perils and dangers, all worldly respects and considerations, and like as I had heretofore, according to the mea|sure of my small gift within the compass of my vocation and calling, from the bottom of my heart unfeignedly moved, exhorted, and persuaded all that profess God's word, manfully to persist in the defence of the same, not with sword and vio|lence, but with suffering and loss of life, rather than to defile themselves again with the whorish abomination of the Romish Antichrist; so the hour being come, with my fact and example to ratify, confirm, and protest the same to the hearts of all true believers: and to this end, by the mighty assistance of God's Holy Spirit, I resolved mys••lf with much peace of conscience, willingly to sustain whatsoever the Romish Antichrist should do against me, and the rather, because I under|stood the bishop'•• coming to be at hand, and consi|dered that poor men's consciences would be then

sharply assaulted. So I remained prisoner in Co|ventry for the space of ten or eleven days, being never called to answer my masters, contrary to the laws of the realm, they having neither statute, law, proclamation, letter, warrant, nor commandment for my apprehension. They would have laid all the matter upon the sumner; who being examined, denied it before their faces, as one of my friends told me, saying, that he had no commandment concerning me, but for my elder brother. God lay not their extreme doings against me to their charge at the great day.

THE second day after the bishop's coming to Coventry, Mr. Warren came to the Guildhall, and ordered the chief jailor to carry me to the bi|shop. I laid to Mr. Warren's charge the cruel seeking of my death; and when he would have excused himself, I told him he could not wipe his hands so; he was as guilty of my blood before God, as though he had murdered me with his own hands.

AND so he departed from me, saying, I needed not to fear if I would be of his belief. God open his eyes if it be his will, and give him grace to believe this, which he and all of his inclination shall find (I fear) too true for their parts; that is, that all they which cruelly, maliciously and spite|fully persecute, molest, and afflict the members of Christ for their conscience sake, and for the true testimony of Christ's word, and cause them most unjustly to be slain and murdered, without speedy repentance shall dwell with the devil and his angels in the fierce lake everlastingly, where they shall wish and desire, cry and call, but in vain (as their right companion did) to be refreshed by them whom in this world they contemned, despised, disdained, as slaves, misers, and wretches.

WHEN I came before the bishop in Mr. Denton's house, he began with this protestation, That he was my bishop for lack of a better, and willed me to submit myself.

I said to him, I am not come to accuse myself, what have you to lay to my charge?

HE asked me, whether I was learned? I an|swered, smally learned.

MR. CHANCELLOR standing by, said, I was a master of arts.

THEN my lord laid to my charge my not co|ming to the church.

HERE I might have dallied with him, and put him to his proofs, forasmuch as I had not been in his diocese for a long season, neither was any of the citizens able to prove any such matter against me. Notwithstanding, I answered him through God's merciful help, that I neither had, nor would come to their church, as long as their mass was used there, to save (if I had them) five hundred lives. I desired him to shew me one jot or title in the scriptures for the proof and defence of the mass.

HE answered, he came to teach, and not to be taught.

I was content (I told him) to learn of him, so far as he was able to teach me by the word of God.

Bishop.

Who shall judge the word?

Glover.

Christ was willing that the people should judge his doctrine by searching the scriptures, and so was Paul; methinks you should claim no further privilege nor pre-eminence than they had.

THUS spake Robert Glover, offering him further, that he was content that the primitive church next to the apostle's time, should judge between the bishop and him. But the bishop refused that. Then he said, he was his bishop, and therefore he must believe him.

Glover.

If you will be believed because you are a bishop, why find you fault with the people that believed bishop Latimer, bishop Ridley, and bishop Hooper, and the residue of them that were bishops?

Bishop.

Because they were heretics.

Glover.

And may not you err as well as they▪ I expected my lord to use some learned argume••••••

to persuade me, but instead of that, he oppressed me only with his authority. He said, I dissented from the church, and asked me where my church was before king Edward's time?

I desired him to shew me where their church was in Elias's time, and what outward shew it had in Christ's time.

Bishop.

Elias's complaint was only of the ten tribes that fell from David's house, whom he called heretics.

Glover.

You be not able to shew any prophets that the other two tribes had at that same time.

MY lord making no answer to that, Mr. Rogers, one of the masters of the city, cometh in the mean season, taking upon him as though he would an|swer to the text. But my lord forthwith command|ed me to be committed to some tower, if they had any besides the common jail, saying, He would at the end of the visitation of his dio|cese, weed out such wolves. Mr. Rogers willed him to content himself for that night, till they had taken further order for me. Even where it pleaseth you, said I to my lord, I am content; and so I was returned at that time to the common jail again from whence I came.

ON the Friday morning, being the next day, I had warning by one of the prisoners to prepare my|self to ride with my fellow-prisoners the same day to Litchfield, there to be bestowed at the bishop's pleasure. Which tidings at first somewhat dis|couraged me, fearing lest I should by means of my great sickness, through hard usage, (which I expect|ed) have died in prison before I should come to answer: but immediately with God's words, I re|buked this infidelity in myself, and by the same corrected mine own distrust in the following man|ner. What make I of God? Is not his power as great in Litchfield as in Coventry? Was he not with Habakkuk, Daniel, Neshach, and Jeremy, in their most dangerous imprisonments? He knoweth what things we have need of. He hath numbered all the hairs of our head. The sparrow falleth not to the ground, without our heavenly Father's will; much more will he care for us if we be not faithless, whom he hath made worthy to be witnesses of his truth. So long as we put our trust in him, we shall never be destitute of his he••••, neither in prison, in sickness, nor in health, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in life, nor in death, neither before kings, bishops, or the devil himself, much less one of his ministers, shall be able to prevail against us. With such me|ditations, I grew chearful, of good consolation and comfort: so that hearing one say that they could not provide horses enough for us, I said, Let th••••, car••y us in a dung cart for lack of horses, if they please, I am willing for my part.

NOTWITHSTANDING, at the request of my friends, I wrote to Mr. Mayor, and his brethren, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 requiring them that I might make answer here 〈◊〉〈◊〉 such things as should be laid to my charge: 〈◊〉〈◊〉 contents of which were to this purpose:

"I beseech you to understand, that it is not ••••|known, as well to the keeper of the jail, as to the inhabitants about me where I dwell, that I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 man subject to very great sickness, and have been for the space of seven years and more, so that 〈…〉〈…〉 not like that I shall be removed without great 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and danger of life. And because I was ••ere com|mitted to ward by your appointment, I would glad|ly here answer to such things as should be laid to my charge. If I may obtain this of you, I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 cause thankfully to acknowledge your clemency▪ if otherwise, I pray God it be not laid to your charge at the great day, where every man shall have just judgment without respect of persons."

BUT receiving no answers to my letters, I con|jectured, that when the bishop and the chancellor had seen them, they moved them rather to have ••e away, being more desirous (as I suppose) to have had me dispatched privily in prison, than to bring me openly to my answer; as did in some measure appear by the treatment I met with at my first coming to prison.

CERTAIN serjeants and constables of Coventry being appointed to have the conveying of us to Litchfield, to be delivered there to one Jephcot, the chancellor's man, sent from Coventry with us for the same purpose, we were commanded to be on horseback about eleven or twelve o'clock on

Friday, being a market-day, that we might be the more gazed at: and to set the people's hearts more against us, they did proclaim a letter concerning a proclamation made for calling in, and disannulling of all such books as truly expound and interpret the scriptures. We came to Litchfield about four o'clock▪ and had leave to repose ourselves for sup|per-time. We put up at the sign of the Swan, where we were entertained friendly and gently.

AFTER supper Jephcot repaired to us, whom we intreated that upon former su••eties we might rest ourselves that night, being unprovided of any thing to help ourselves withal in the prison at that pre|sent. He seemed willing at first, but afterwards (whether by persuasion, but I rather suppose out of policy, till he could gather a multitude to stare and gaze upon us, and also that we should provide nothing to ease ourselves withal) he revoked his promise, and so by consent we were carried to prison, in the sight of a great multitude of people. I desired Jephcot before to execute his office with mercy, telling him, that they should have judg|ment without mercy, that shewed no mercy. And this mercy I found at his hand.

HE put me into prison that same night, where I continued till I was condemned, in a place next the dungeon, where was small room, strong build|ing, and very cold, with little light; and there he allowed me a bundle of straw instead of my bed, without chairs, form, or any thing else to ease my|self withal. God of his mercy gave me great pa|tience through prayer that night, so that if it had been his pleasure, I could have been con••ented to have ended my life: but Jephcot, and one Persey, the bishop's man, who afterwards was my continual keeper for the most part, came to me in the morn|ing, to whom I said, This is a great extremity, God send us patience, and no more.

THEN they were content that I should have a bed of my own procuring. But I was allowed no help, neither night nor day, nor company of any man, notwithstanding my great sickness; nor yet p••per, pen, ink, or books, except my New Tes|tament in Latin, and a prayer-book which I privi|ly stole in.

WITHIN two days after, Mr. Chancellor and Mr. Temsey, a pre••endary there, came to me into my prison. Mr. Chancellor exhorted me to con|form myself to my lord and to the church. He wished no more hurt to my soul than he did to his own; belike because I had laid to his charge at Coventry the seeking of my blood unjustly and wrongfully.

Now thus the second time I answered Mr. Chan|cellor to his exhortation. ••That I refused not to be ruled by that church, that was content to be order|ed and governed by the word of God.

Chancellor..

How know you the word of God, but by the church?

Glover.

The church sheweth which is the word of God, therefore the church is above the word of God: this is no good reason in learning, said I to Mr. Chancellor. For it is like unto this; John shewed the people who was Christ: Ergo, John was above Christ. Or else I have a man that know|eth not the king, and I tell him who was the king, am I therefore above the king?

MR. CHANCELLOR said, he came not to reason with me, and so departed. And I remained for the space of eight day; without any further confer|ence with any man, until the bishop's coming: in which time I gave myself continually to prayer, and meditation of the merciful promises of God made unto all, without exception of person, that call up|on the name of his dear Son Jesus Christ. I found in myself daily amendment of health of body, in|crease of peace in conscience, and many consolations from God, by the help of his Holy Spirit, and sometimes as it were a taste and glimmering of the life to come; all for his only Son Jesus Christ's sake: to him be all praise for ever and ever.

THE enemy ceased not many times sundry ways to assault me, often objecting to my conscience mine own unworthiness, through the greatness of the benefit to be counted among the number of them that should suffer for Christ, for his gospel's sake Against him I replied with the word of God on this sort, What were all those whom God had cho|sen from the beginning to be his witnesses, and to

carry his name before the world? Were they not m••n, as Paul and Barnabas said, as well subject to wickedness, sin, and imperfections, as other men be? Even such were Noah, Abraham, David, and the rest, "who gave first unto him," as Paul saith. And also speaking to every man, "What hast thou that thou receivedst not?" Likewise John, "All have received of his fulness:" they were no bringers ••f any goodness to God, but al|together receivers. They chose not God first, but he chose them. They loved not God first, but he loved them first. Yea, he both loved and chose them when they were his enemies, full of sin and corruption, and void of all goodness. He is, and will be still, the same God, as rich in mercy, as mighty, as able, as ready, as willing to forgive sins without respect of persons, to the world's end, of all them that call upon him. "The Lord is nigh unto all them that call upon him: to all that call upon him in truth." God i•• near, he is at hand, he is with all, with all I say, and refuseth none, excepteth none that faithfully in true repent|ance call upon him, in what hour, what place, or what time soever it be. It is no arrogancy nor pre|sumption in any man, to burthen God (as it were) with his promise, and of duty to claim and chal|lenge his aid, help, and assistance in all our perils, dangers, and distress, calling upon him, not in the confidence of our own godliness, but in the trust of his promis•••• made in Christ, in whom, and by whom, and for whose sake, whosoever boldly ap|proacheth to the mercy-seat of the Father, is sure to receive whatsoever is expedient or necessary, ei|ther for body or soul, in a more bountiful manner, than he can well wish, or dare desire. His word cannot lie, "Call upon me in the day of trouble, and I will hear thee, and thou shalt praise me."

I answered the enemy also on this manner; I am a sinner, and therefore unworthy to be a witness of this truth. What then? must I deny his word, because I am not worthy to profess it? What bring I to pass in so doing, but add sin to sin? What is greater sin than to deny the truth of Christ's gospel? As Christ himself beareth witness, "He that is a|shamed of me or of my words, of him also will I be ashamed before my Father and all his angels." I might also for the like reason neglect obedience to any of God's commandments.

WHEN I am provoked to pray, the enemy 〈◊〉〈◊〉 say to me, I am not worthy to pray, therefore I shall not pray: and so in like manner of all the com|mandments, I shall not forbear swearing, stealing, or murdering, because I am not worthy to keep any commandment of God These be the delusio•••• of the devil, and Satan's suggestions, which must be overcome by continual prayer, and with the word of God applied according to the measure of every man's gift against all assaults of the devil.

AT the bishop's first coming to Litchfield, after mine imprisonment, I was called into a bye cham|ber next to my prison, to my lord. Before whom when I came, and saw none but his officers, chap|lains, and servants, except it were an old priest, I was partly amazed, and lifted up my heart to God for his merciful help and assistance.

MY lord asked me how I liked my imprison|ment; I gave him no answer touching that question. He proceeded to persuade me to be a member of his church, which had continued so many years. As for your church (said he to me), it was not known but lately in Edward's time.

I profess myself to be a member of that church (said I) that is built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ being the head corner-stone; and so alledged the place of St. Paul to the Ephesians. And this church hath been from the beginning (said I), tho' it bear no glo|rious shew before the world, being ever, for the most part, under the cross and affliction, contemn|ed, despised, and persecuted; my lord contended on the other side, that they were the church.

So cried all the clergy (said I) against the pro|phets of Jerusalem, saying, "The church of the Lord, the church of the Lord." And always when I was about to speak any thing, my lord cri|ed, Hold thy peace, I command thee by the virtue of thy obedience to hold thy peace, calling me a proud arrogant hereti••.

I desired my lord to lay something to my charge in particular, and then to convince me with some scriptures and good learning.

THEN my lord began to move certain questions. I refused to answer him in corners, requiring that I might make my answer openly. He said I should answer him there. I stood with him upon that point till he said I should go to prison again, and there have neither meat nor drink till I had answer|ed him.

THEN I lifted up my heart to God, that I might stand and agree with the doctrine of his most holy word.

THE first question was this, How many sacra|ments hath Christ instituted to be used in the church?

THE sacrament of baptism, said I, and the sacra|ment that he instituted at his last supper.

No more, said he?

THEN said I, To all those that declare a true and unfeigned repentance, a sure hope, trust and confi|dence in the death of Christ, to such, ministers (I grant) have authority to pronounce, by the authori|ty of God's word, the remission of sins.

HERE interrupting me, he would needs bear me in hand that I called this a sacrament. I would not greatly contend with him in that point, because the matter was of no great weight or importance; al|though he in so doing did me wrong, for I called it not a sacrament.

HE asked me further, Whether I allowed their confession?

I answered, No.

THEN the bishop would know my mind what I thought of the presence of Christ's body in the sa|crament.

I answered, That their mass was neither sacrifice nor sacrament, because (said I) you have taken away the true institution, which when you restore again, I will tell you my judgment concerning Christ's body in the sacrament.

AND thus much did this worthy martyr of God leave behind him in his own hand-writing, con|cerning the manner of his usage in prison, and also of his disputes with the bishop and his chancellor. More Examinations he had (no doubt) with the bishop in the public consistory, when he was brought forth to be condemned, which he would also have left unto us, if either length of life, or leisure of time, or haste of execution, had permitted him to finish what he intended; but by reason of the writ of his burning being come down from London, want of time did neither serve him so to do, neither yet could I get the records of his last examination, wheresoever they are.

ONLY this which I could learn by the relation of one Augustine Bernher, a minister, and a fami|liar friend of his concerning the going to his death, I can report; that the said Robert Glover, after he was condemned by the bishop, and was now at a point to be delivered out of this world, it so hap|pened, that two or three days before, his heart being heavy, and desolate of all spiritual consola|tion, felt in himself no aptness or willingness, but rather a heaviness and dullness of spirit, full of much discomfort to bear the bitter cross of martyr|dom ready to be laid upon him.

WHEREUPON fearing in himself left the Lord had utterly withdrawn his wonted favour from him, made his moan to this Augustine, his friend above|mentioned, signifying unto him how earnestly he had prayed day and night unto the Lord, and yet could receive no motion nor sense of any comfort from him.

UNTO whom the said Augustine answering again, desired him patiently to wait the Lord's pleasure, and howsoever his present feeling was, yet seeing his cause was just and true, he exhorted him con|stantly to stick to the same, and to play the man, nothing misdoubting but the Lord in his good time would visit him, and satisfy his desire with plen|ty of consolation; whereof (he said) he was right certain and sure; and therefore desired him, whensoever any such feeling of God's heavenly

mercies should begin to touch his heart, that then he should shew some signification thereof, whereby he might witness with him the same, and so depart|ed from him.

THE next day, when the time came of his mar|tyrdom, as he was going to the place, and was come within sight of the stake, (although all the night before praying for strength and courage he could feel none) suddenly he was so mightily re|plenished with God's holy comfort and heavenly joys, that he cried out, clapping his hands to Austin, and saying these words, "Austin, he is come, he is come," &c. and that with such joy and alacrity, as one seeming rather to be risen from some deadly danger to liberty and life, than as one passing out of the world by any pains of death. Such was the change of the marvellous working of the Lord's hand upon that good man.

An Account of CORNELIUS BUNGEY, Fellow-Martyr with Mr. ROBERT GLOVER.

IN the same fire with Mr. Glover, Cornelius Bun|gey, of Coventry, was likewise burnt, who was condemned by the said bishop of Coventry and Litchfield. As concerning the articles which were objected to him, the effect thereof was this.

FIRST, It was objected against him, that these three years last, in the city of Coventry and Litch|field, and places thereabout, he did hold, maintain, argue, and teach, that the priest hath no power here to absolve any sinner from his sins.

SECONDLY, That by baptism sins are not washed away, because he said that the washing of the flesh purgeth the flesh outwardly, and not the soul.

THIRDLY, That there be in the church only two sacraments, that is, baptism and the Lord's supper.

FOURTHLY, That in the sacrament of the popish altar, was not the real body and blood of Christ, but the substance of bread and wine there remain|ing still, because St. Paul calleth it bread and wine, &c.

FIFTHLY, That he, within the compass of the said years and time, did hold, maintain, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that the pope is not the head of the visible chu•••••• here on earth, &c.

SIXTHLY, That he was of the diocese and juris|diction of the bishop of Coventry and Litchfield, &c.

SEVENTHLY, That the premises are true, mani|fest, and notorious, and that upon the same there hath been and is a public voice and fame, as well i•• the places above rehearsed, as in other quarters also about, &c.

TO which articles he answered again:

TO the first he granted, and to every part thereof, meaning after the popish manner of absolution.

TO the second he granted first, after revoked 〈◊〉〈◊〉 same.

TO the third also he granted, adding withal, that in scripture there is no more contained.

TO the fourth touching the sacrament, he grant|ed, and to every part thereof.

TO the fifth, concerning the pope likewise.

ALSO to the sixth he granted; and likewise to the seventh.

UPON these articles and his answers to the same, the said Radulph, the bishop, read the sentence, and so committed him also, after condemnation of Mr. Robert Glover to the secular power.

THUS this aforesaid Cornelius, falsely condemned by the bishop before mentioned, suffered at the same stake with the christian martyr, Mr. Robert Glover, at Coventry, about the 20th of September.

The History of JOHN GLOVER, and WILLIAM GLOVER, who were excommunicated after their Death, a••d buried in the Fields.

JOHN and William Glover, the two brothers of Robert Glover, the martyr, ought not to be omitted in this history, although they were not call|ed

to finish their course in fire, as their brother, and other martyrs were; yet they were cast out of the church, and excommunicated even after they were dead, and denied christian burial.

AND first concerning Mr. John Glover, the elder brother, what inward storms and agonies he sustain|ed by the ghostly enemy, you have partly heard before described: now what his bodily enemies wrought against him, remaineth to be declared. Whose rage and malice, although God restrained, that they could little prevail against him so long as his life endured, yet after his decease, having power upon him, what they did you shall now under|stand.

WHEREUPON the sheriffs, with their under offi|cers and servants, being sent to seek him, came into his house, where he and his wife were. It chanced a•• he was in the chamber by himself, the officers bursting into the house, and searching other rooms, came to the chamber where John Glover was, who being within, and holding the latch softly in his hand, perceived and heard the officers bustling about the door, amongst whom one of the said officers having the string in his hand, was ready to draw and pluck at the same.

IN the mean time another coming by, (whose voice he heard and knew) bade them come away, saying, they had been there before. Whereupon they departing thence, went to search other corners of the house, where they found Agnes Glover his wife, who being carried to Litchfield, and there examined before the bishop, at length after much ado, was constrained to give place to their tyranny. John Glover, in the mean time, partly for care of his wife▪ partly through cold taken in the woods where he did lie, took an ague, whereupon not long after, he left this life, which the cruel papists so long had sought for.

THUS by the mighty protection of the Almighty Lord, how John Glover was delivered and defended from the hands of the persecuting enemies during all the time of his life, you have heard. Now what befel after the time of his death, both to him and his brother William, is worthy to be remem|bered. After he was dead, and buried in the church-yard, without priest, or clerk, Dr. Dracot, then chancellor, six weeks after, sent for the parson of the town, and demanded how it happened that he was there buried. The parson answered, that he was then sick, and knew not of it. Then the chancellor commanded the parson to go home, and to cause the body of the said John Glover to be taken up, and to be cast over the wall into the high|way: the parson again answered, that he had been six weeks in the earth, and so smelled, that none were able to endure it. Well, quoth Dr. Dracot, then take this bill, and pronounce him in the pul|pit a damned soul, and a twelvemonth after take up his bones, (for then the flesh will be consumed) and cast them over the wall, that the carts and horses may tread upon them, and then I will come and hallow that place in the church-yard where he was buried. Recorded by the parson of the town, who told the same to Hugh Burrows, dwelling at Fynden, in Derbyshire, and to Mr. Robert Glover's wife, by whose credible information we received the same.

NOT much unlike usage was practised also by these catholic children of the mother church, upon the body of William, the third brother, whom, af|ter it had pleased Almighty God about the same season to call out of this vale of misery, the well-disposed people of the town of Weme, in Shropshire, where he died, brought the body into the parish church, intending there to have it buried. But one Bernard, being then curate of the said church, in order to stop the burial thereof, rode to the bishop named Ralph Baine, to certify him of the matter, and to have his advice therein. In the mean time, the body lying there a whole day, in the night-time one Richard Morice, a taylor, would have interred him. But then came John Thorlyne, of Weme, with some others, of Weme, and would not suffer the body to be buried; expressing to us the contrary examples of good Tobit; for as he was religious in burying the dead, so this man's religion consists in not burying the dead; so that after he had lain there two days and one night, the aforesaid Bernard, the curate, came with the bishop's letter, the con|tents of which letter being copied out word for word, here follow.

A Copy of the Bishop's Letter written to the Parish of Weme.

UNDERSTANDING that one Glover an heretic is dead in the parish of Weme, which Glover hath, all the time of my being in this coun|try, been known for a rebel against our holy faith and religion, a contemner of the holy sacraments and ceremonies used in the holy church, and hath separated himself from the holy communion of all good christian men, and never required to be recon|ciled to our mother holy church, nor in his last days did call for his spiritual father, but died without a rite belonging to a christian man; I thought it good not only to command the curate of Weme, that he should not be honoured with christian burial, but also will and command all the parish of Weme, that no man procure, help, nor speak to have him bu|ried in holy ground: but I do charge and command the church-wardens of Weme in special, and all the parish of the same, that they assist the said curate in defending and hindering, and procuring that he be not buried in the church, or within the walls of the church-yard: and likewise I charge those that brought the body to the place to carry it away again, and that at their charge, as they will answer at their peril. At Ecclesch, this sixth of Septem|ber 1555.

By your Ordinary, Radulph, Coventry and Litchfield.

BY virtue of this aforesaid letter, so it fell out, that they who brought the corps thither, were obli|ged to carry it back again at their own charges. But as the body was corrupted, and smelt so strong that no man could well come near it, they were forced to draw it with horses into a broom-field, and there he was buried.

THE like example of charitable affection in these catholic churchmen, is also to be seen and noted in the burying of one Edward Burton, Esq. who in the same diocese of Chester, departing out of this world the very day before queen Elizabeth was crowned, required of his friends, as they would answer for it, that his body should be buried in his parish church, (which was St. Chad's, in Shrews|bury) so that no mass-monger should be present thereat. Which thing being declared to the curate of that parish, named John Marshall, and the bo•••• being withal brought to the burial, upon the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 day when the queen was crowned, the curate 〈◊〉〈◊〉 therewith offended, said plainly, that he should 〈◊〉〈◊〉 be buried in the church there. Whereunto on•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the friends of the deceased, named George Tor••••••|ley, answering again, said, That God would jud•••• him in the last day, &c. Then said the prie••••▪ Judge God or devil, the body shall not come the•••• And so they buried him in his own garden, wh•••• he is no doubt as near the kingdom of heaven •••• if he had been buried in the midst of the church.

MOREOVER, in the said county of Salop, I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that one Oliver Richardine, of the parish of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 church, was burnt in Hartford-west, sir John Yo•••• being sheriff the same time, which seemeth to be about the last year of king Henry the eighth•• Whose name, as it was not mentioned before •• thought here to give some little touch of him, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 now in hand to speak of the persecution 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the diocese of Coventry and Litchfield.

The Martyrdom of WILLIAM WOLSEY, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 PYGOT, Painter.

WILLIAM Wolsey and Robert Pygot, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 inhabitants of the town of Wisbich, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the next condemned after the suffering of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Glover and Cornelius Bungey. These two blessed martyrs were judged and condemned at Ely, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 John Fuller, the bishop's chancellor of Ely, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Shaxtone, his suffragan, Robert Stewart, 〈…〉〈…〉 Ely, John Christopherson, dean of Norwich, 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 9, l555. The said William Wolsey, who was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a constable, through the means of one 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Everard, gentleman, a justice appointed for those days, who cruelly treated the said William Wolsey, causing him to put in sureties for his good behavi|our and appearance at the next general sessions held within the Isle of Ely. Being called again at the next sessions, he was still constrained to put in ne•• sureties, which at length he refused to do, and so was committed to jail, at the assize held at Ely in Lent.

IN the Easter week following, Dr. Fuller, the chancellor, with Christopherson, and one Dr. Yonge,

came to confer with him, who laid earnestly to his charge that he was out of the catholic faith, desiring him to meddle no further with the scriptures, than it did become such a lay-man as he was to do. The said William Wolsey standing still a great while, suffering them to say their pleasure, at last he answered in this wise: Good Mr. Doctor, What did our Saviour mean, when he spake these words written in the 23d chapter of St. Matthew's gospel, "Woe be unto you scribes and pharisees, hypo|crites; for ye shut up the kingdom of heaven against men: for ye neither go in yourselves, nei|ther suffer ye them that are entering to go in."

YEA, saith Dr. Fuller, you must understand, that Christ spake to the scribes and pharisees.

NAY, Mr. Doctor, Christ spake even to you, and your fellows here present, and to all others such as you be.

AWAY, Mr. Doctor, said Christopherson, for you can do no good with this man. Yet, saith Dr. Fuller, I will leave thee a book to read, I promise thee of a learned man's doing, that is to say, of Dr. Watson's doing (who was then bishop of Lincoln).

WOLSEY receiving the same book, did diligently read it over, which in many places did manifestly appear contrary to the truth of God's word. At length, a fortnight or three weeks following, the said Dr. Fuller resorting again to the prison to con|fer with the said Wolsey, asked him how he liked the said book, (thinking that he had won him by the reading of the same) who answered him and said, Sir, I like the book no otherwise than I thought before I should find it. Whereupon the chancellor taking his book, departed home.

AT night when Dr. Fuller came to his chamber to look on it, he found in many places, contrary to his mind, the book rased with a pen by the said Wolsey. Which he seeing, and being vexed there|with, said, O this is an obstinate heretic, and hath quite marred my book.

THEN the assizes to be held at Wisbich drawing ••igh, Dr. Fuller cometh again to the said Wolsey, and spake unto him on this manner: thou dost much trouble my conscience, wherefore I pray thee depart, and rule thy tongue, so that I hear no more complaint of thee, and come to the church when thou wilt, and if thou be complained upon, so far as I may, I promise thee I will not hear of it.

MR. Doctor, said Wolsey, I was brought hither by a law, and by a law I will be delivered.

THEN being brought to the sessions before named, Wolsey was laid in the castle at Wisbich. he and all his friends thinking, that he should have suffered there at that present time, but it proved otherwise.

THEN Robert Pygot, the painter, being at liber|ty, was there presented by some evil disposed persons (sworn men as they called them) for not coming 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the church.

THE said Pygot being called in the sessions, would not absent himself, but there did plainly appear be|fore sir Clement Hygham, being judge, who said unto him: Ah, are you the holy father the painter? How chance you came not to the church? Sir, quoth the painter, I am not out of the church, I trust in God.

NO, sir, said the judge, this is no church, this is a hall. Yea, sir, said Pygot, I know very well it is a hall: but he that is in the true faith of Jesus Christ, is never absent, but present in the church of God.

AH, sirrah, said the judge, you are too high learn|ed for me to talk with, wherefore I will send you to them that are better learned than I, straightway commanding him to the jail where Wolsey lay. So the sessions being broke up and ended, the said Wolsey and Pygot were carried again to Ely to prison, where they both remained till the day of their death.

IN the mean time some of their neighbours of Wisbich being at Ely, came to see how they did. There came hither also a chaplain of bishop Good|rick's, a Frenchman born, one Peter Valentius, who said to Wolsey and Pygot: My brethren, ac|cording to my office I am come to talk with you,

for I have been amner here these twenty years and above. Wherefore I must desire you, my brethren, to take it in good part that I am come to talk with you, I promise you not to pull you f••om your faith. But I both require and desire, in the name of Jesus Christ, that you stand to the truth of the gospel and word, and I beseech the Almighty God, for his Son Jesus Christ's sake, to preserve both you and me in the same unto the end. For I know not myself, my brethren, how soon I shall be at the same point that you are. Thus with many other like words he made an end, causing all that were there present to water their cheeks, contrary to the expectation they all had of him. God be praised therefore.

THEN within a short time after, Pygot and Wol|sey were called to judgment about the 9th of Oct. before Dr. Fuller, then chancellor, with old Dr. Shaxton, Christopherson, and others in commis|sion, who laid earnestly to their charge for their belief in divers articles, but especially of the sa|crament of the altar. Whereunto their answer was, That the sacrament of the altar was an idol, and that the natural body and blood of Christ was not present really in the sacrament; and to this opi|nion they said they would stick, perfectly believing the same to be no heresy that they had affirmed, but the very truth, whereunto they would stand. Then the doctors said, that they were out of the catholic faith.

THEN Dr. Shaxton said unto them, Good bre|thren, remember yourselves, and become new men, for I myself was in this fond opinion that you are now in, but I am now become a new man.

AH, said Wolsey, are you become a new man? Woe be to thee, thou wicked new man, for God shall justly judge thee.

DR. Fuller then spake, saying, This Wolsey is an obstinate fellow, and one that I could never do good upon. But as for the painter, he is a man quiet and indifferent, (as far as I perceive) and is soon•• reformed, and may very well be delivered for any ill opinion I find in him.

THEN Christopherson called for pen and ink, and wrote these words following: I Robert Pygot, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 believe, that after the words of consecration spok•••• by the priest, there remaineth mo more bread 〈◊〉〈◊〉 wine, but the very body and blood of Christ 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and substantially, the self same that was born of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 virgin Mary: and reading it to the painter, he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thus, Dost thou believe all this according as it 〈◊〉〈◊〉 written?

NO, sir, said the painter, that is your faith, and not mine.

CHRISTOPHER. Lo, Dr. Fuller, you would have let this fellow go, he is as much an heretic as the other. And so immediately judgment was given upon them to die. Which done, after the sente•••••• read, they were sent again to prison, where they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 till the day of their death. On which day, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Peacock, a batchelor of divinity, being appoi•••••••• to preach, took his text out of the first epistle of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Paul to the Corinthians, chap. v. of one that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 lived inordinately by abusing his father's 〈◊〉〈◊〉 likening the said Pygot and Wolsey to the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 man, oftentimes saying, that such members 〈◊〉〈◊〉 be cut off from the congregation; most mali••••|ously reporting the said Wolsey to be clean out of the faith, and in many places quite denying the scriptures.

SO his sermon being ended, the aforesaid Pygot and Wolsey were brought to the place of execution, and so bound to the stake with a chain; thither came one Richard Collinson, a priest, at that time destitute of any abiding place or settled benef••••••, who said unto Wolsey, Brother Wolsey, the preac•••• hath openly reported in his sermon this day, that you are quite out of the catholic faith, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 baptism, and that you do err in the holy scripture; wherefore I beseech you, for the certifying of my conscience, with others here present, that you de|clare in what place of the scripture you do err and find fault.

Wolsey. I take the eternal and everlasting God to witness, that I do err in no part or point of God's book, the holy bible, but hold and believe in the same to be most firm and sound doctrine in all points most worthy for my salvation, and for all other christians to the end of the word. Whatsoever mine

adversaries report of me, God forgive them therefore. With that came one to the fire with a great sheet full of books to burn, like as they had been New Testaments. O, said Wolsey, give me one of them, Pygot desired another, both of them clapping them close to their breasts, saying the ••••th Psalm, desiring all the people to say, Amen, and so received the fire most thankfully.

CONCERNING the story of William Wolsey, I received moreover from the university of Cam|bridge, by a credible person, and my faithful friend William Fulke, this relation, which I thought in this place not improper to be notified to the reader, i•• order and form as followeth.

THERE were two godly martyrs burnt at Ely, the one named Wolsey, the other Pygot. In these two appeared a different disposition of spirit. Py|••••t was mild, humble, and modest, promising that he would be conformable to his persecutors, if they could persuade him by the scripture, Wolsey was stout, strong, and vehement, as one having the fulness of the Spirit, and detested all their doing, as of whom he was sure to receive nothing but cruelty and tyranny. He was wonderfully jealous over his companion, fearing lest his gentle nature would have been overcome by the flattering entice|ments of the world, and therefore the same day that they were burnt, when they would have talked with him alone, he pulled him away from them almost by force. He was so desirous to glorify God with his suffering, that being wonderfully sore tormented in the prison with the tooth-ach, he feared nothing more than that he should depart be|fore the day of execution (which he called his glad day) were come.

THIS Wolsey being in prison at Ely, was visited by Thomas Hodilo, brewer, in Ely. To him he delivered certain money to be distributed (as he ap|pointed) part to his wife, and part to his kinsfolks and friends, and especially six shillings and eight-pence to be delivered to one Richard Denton, a smith, dwelling at Wells, in Cambridgeshire, within the jurisdiction of the isle of Ely, with his commen|dation, that he marvelled that he tarried so long behind him, seeing that he was the first that deli|vered him the book of scripture into his hand, and told him that it was the truth, desiring him to make haste after as fast as he could.

THIS Thomas Hodilo, both to avoid the danger of the time, and to have a witness of his doings herein, delivered the said sum of money to one Mr. Lawrence, a preacher, in Essex, (who then resorted often to his house) to be distributed as Wolsey had appointed; which thing he performed, riding from place to place. And when this six shillings and eight-pence was delivered to Richard Denton, with the commendation aforesaid, his answer was this, I confess it is true, but, alas! I cannot burn. This was almost one whole year after Wolsey was burnt. But he that could not burn for the cause of Christ, was afterwards burnt against his will, even after Christ had given peace to his church. For on Tuesday, the 18th of April, 1564, his house was set on fire, and he, endeavouring to save his goods, perished in the flames, with two others that were in the same house.

Witnessed by THO. HODILO, and WILL. FULKE.

NOT much unlike this, was the example of Mr. West, chaplain to bishop Ridley, who refusing to die in the cause of Christ, with his master, said mass against his conscience, and died soon after.

CHAP. XII. HISTORY of the LIFE, SUFFERINGS, and MARTYRDOM of Bishop RIDLEY, and Bishop LATIMER, with their LETTERS, &c. CHARACTER of STEPHEN GARD••|NER, Bishop of Winchester.—Further Account of the EXAMINATIONS and MAR|TYRDOM of many pious and godly MEN and WOMEN, during the bloody Reign of Queen MARY I.

The HISTORY of Dr. NICHOLAS RIDLEY and Mr. HUGH LATIMER, both Bishops, Preachers, and Martyrs of Christ; with their Conferences and Sufferings described.

ON the 17th of October, 1555, (the day on which William Wolsey and Thomas Pygot suffered at Ely) those two famous and singular captains, the principal pillars of Christ's church, Dr. Nicholas Ridley, bishop of London, and Mr. Hugh Latimer, sometime bishop of Wor|cester, were cruelly burnt in one fire at Oxford. Men, ever memorable for their piety, learning, and incomparable ornaments and gifts of grace, joined with no less commendable sincerity of life, as the whole realm can testify; so it needeth not greatly that we should stand exactly at this time in setting forth a full description of the same, but only to comprehend briefly in a few words, touching the order of lives, so much as necessarily serveth to the due instruction of the reader, and maketh to the use of this present history, in declaring first their beginning and bringing up, then their studies and acts in the university, their preferments also by their studies to higher dignity, at last their care and trouble in setting forth religion, and in maintaining the same to the shedding of their blood. And first to begin with the life of Dr. Ridley, whose story here ensueth.

AMONG many other worthy histories and notable acts of such as of late days have been troubled, murdered, and martyred, for the true gospel of Christ, in queen Mary's reign, the tragical story and life of Dr. Ridley, I thought good to commit to writing, and leave to perpetual memory; be|seeching thee (gentle reader) with care and study well to peruse, diligently to consider, and deep•••• to print the same in thy breast, seeing him to be a man beautified with such excellent qualities, so spiritually inspired, and godly learned, and now written doubtless in the book of life, with the bles|sed saints of the Almighty, crowned and enthro•••••• amongst the glorious company of martyrs. 〈◊〉〈◊〉, descending of a stock right worshipful, he was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the county of Northumberland, who being a child, learned his grammar with great dexterity in Newcastle, and was removed from thence to the university of Cambridge, where he in a short time became so famous, that for his singular aptness▪ he was called to higher functions and offices of the university, by degrees pertaining thereunto, and was called to be head of Pembroke Hall, and there made doctor of divinity. After this, departing from thence, he travelled to Paris, and at his return was made chaplain to king Henry the eighth, and promoted afterwards by him to the bishopric of Rochester, and from thence translated to the see and bishopric of London, in king Ed|ward's days.

IN which calling and offices he so diligently ap|plied himself by preaching and teaching the true and wholsome doctrine of Christ, that no good child was more singularly loved by his dear pa|rents, than he by his flock and diocese. Every holiday and Sunday he preached in one place or other, except he were otherwise hindered by weigh|ty affairs and business; to whose sermons the peo|ple resorted, swarming about him like bees, and coveting the sweet flowers and wholesome juice of the fruitful doctrine, which he did not only preach,

but shewed the same by his life, as a glittering lanthorn to the eyes and senses of the blind, in such pure order and chastity of life (declining from evil desires and concupiscence) that even his very ene|mies could not reprove him in any one jot there|of.

BESIDES this, he was very well learned, his me|mory was great, and he of such reading withal, that of right he deserved to be compared to the best men of this our age, as his notable works, pithy sermons, and his sundry disputations in both the universities can well testify, and also his very adversaries will say the same themselves.

BESIDES all this, he was wise of counsel, deep of wit, and very politic in all his doings. How merciful and careful he was to reduce the obstinate papists from their erroneous opinions, and by gen|tleness to win them to the truth, his gentle ordering and courteous handling of Dr. Heath, late archbi|shop of York, being prisoner with him in king Edward's time, in his house, one year, sufficiently declareth. In fine, he was such a prelate, and in all points so good, pious and spiritual a man, that England may jus••ly lament the loss of so worthy a treasure. And thus much concerning these public matters.

NOW I will proceed something further, particu|larly of his person and conditions. He was a man right comely and well proportioned in all points, both in complexion and lineaments of the body. He took all things in good part, bearing no malice nor rancour from his heart, but straightway for|getting all injuries and offences done against him. He was very kind and natural to his kinsfolk, and yet not bearing with them any otherwise than right would require, giving them always for a general rule, yea, to his own brother and sister, that they doing evil should seek or look for nothing at his hand, but should be ••s strangers and aliens to him, and they to be his brother and sister, who used ho|nestly and a godly trade of life.

HE used all kinds of ways to mortif•• himself, and was much given to prayer and contemplation: for duly every morning, as soon as his apparel was put upon him, he went forthwith to his bed-cham|ber, and there upon his knees prayed the space of half an hour; which being done, immediately he went to his study (if no other business came to in|terrupt him) where he continued till ten o'clock, and then came to the common prayer, daily used in his house. The prayers being done, he went to dinner; where he used little talk, except other|wise occasion had been ministered, and then it was sober, discreet and wise, and sometimes merry, as cause required.

THE dinner done, which was not very long, he used to sit an hour or thereabouts talking, or play|ing at the chess: that done, he returned to his study, and there would continue, except visitors, or business abroad were occasion of the contrary, until five o'clock at night, and would come to common prayer, as in the forenoon; which being finished, he went to supper, behaving himself there as at dinner before. After supper, recreating himself in playing at chess the space of an hour, he would then return again to his study; continu|ing there till eleven o'clock at night, which was his common hour of going to bed, then saying his prayers upon his knees as in the morning when he rose. Being at his manor of Fulham, as sometimes he used to be, he read daily a lecture to his family at the common prayer, beginning at the Acts of the apostles, and so going through all the epistles of St. Paul, giving to every man that could read, a New Testament, hiring them, besides, with mo|ney to learn by heart certain principal chapters, but especially the 13th chapter of the Acts of the apostles, reading also unto his houshold oftentimes the 101st Psalm, being marvellously careful over his family, that they might be a pattern of all virtue and honesty to others. To be short, as he was godly and virtuous himself, so nothing but virtue and godliness reigned in his house, feeding them with the food of our Saviour Jesus Christ.

NOW remaineth a word or two to be declared of his gentle nature and kind behaviour to old Mrs. Bonner, mother to Dr. Bonner, sometime bishop of London, which I thought good to mention, as well for the rare clemency of Dr. Ridley, as the

unworthy inhumanity and ungrateful disposition again of Dr. Bonner. Bishop Ridley being at his manor of Fulham, always sent for the said Mrs. Bonner, dwelling in a house adjoining to his house, to dinner and supper, with one Mrs. Mungey, Bonner's sister, saying, Go for my mother Bonner; who coming, was always placed in the chair at the head of the table, being so gently treated, welcom|ed and taken, as though she had been his own mother, being never displaced from her seat, al|though the king's council had been present; saying, when any of them were there, (as several times they were) By your lordship's favour, this place of right and custom is for my mother Bonner. But how well he was recompensed for this singular kindness, and gentle pity afterwards at the hands of the said Bonner▪ almost the least child that goeth on the ground can declare. For who af|terwards was a greater enemy to Dr. Ridley than Dr. Bonner? Who went more about to seek his destruction than he? Recompensing this his gentleness with extreme cruelty; as well appeared by the strict handling of Dr. Ridley's own sister, and her husband, George Shipside, from time to time: whereas the gentleness of the other permitted Bonner's mother, sister, and others of his kindred, not only quietly to enjoy all that which they had from bishop Bonner, but also en|tertained them in his house, shewing much courtesy and friendship daily unto them: whereas on the other side, bishop Bonner being restored again, would not suffer the brother and sister of bishop Ridley, and other of his friends, not only not to enjoy that which they had by their said brother, bishop Ridley, but also churlishly, without all or|der of law or honesty, wrested from them all the livings they had.

AND yet being not therewith satisfied, he sought all the means he could to work the death of the aforesaid Shipside, saying, that he would make twelve godfathers to go upon him; which indeed had been brought to pass, at the time he was pri|soner at Oxford, had not God otherwise wrought his deliverance by the means of Dr. Heath, then bishop of Worcester. Witnessed by George Ship|side.

WHEREBY all impartial good readers may 〈◊〉〈◊〉 understand what great diversity there was in the disposition of these two natures. Insomuch, that as the one excelled in mercy and piety, so the other again, as much, or more, excelled in churlish in|gratitude, and despiteful disdain. But of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 matter enough.

NOW concerning God's vocation, how Dr. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was first called to the savouring and favouring of Christ and his gospel, partly by his disputation before, and by his other treatises it may 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that the first occasion of his conversion was by the reading of Bertram's book of the sacrament, wh•••• also the conference with archbishop Cranmer, and with Peter Martyr, did not a little confirm in that behalf. Who now by the grace of God, being thoroughly won and brought to the true way, as he was before blind and zealous in his old igno|rance, so was he constant and faithful in the ri••••t knowledge which the lord had opened unto 〈◊〉〈◊〉, (as well appeared by his life and doctrine during all the time of king Edward) and so long did he much good, when power and authority defended the gospel, and supported the peace and happiness of the church. But after it pleased God (in his wi••e providence) to bereave us of our stay, in taking from us that precious king Edward, the whole state of the church of England was left desolate and open to the enemy's hand: so that bishop Ridley, after the coming in of queen Mary, was one of the first that hands were laid on, and committed to prison, as before hath been sufficiently declared•• first in the Tower, and from thence translated with the archbishop of Canterbury, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 them in|closed i•• the common prison of Boccardo: but at length b••ing separated from them, he was commit|ed to cus••ody in the house of one Irish, where he remained ••ill the day of his martyrdom, which was from the year of our Lord 1554, till October 16, 1555.

AS for his ••isputations at O••ford, his determina|tion at Cambridge, his reasons and conference at at the lieuten••nt's table, enough hath been said already. Besi••es, he had other conferences in prison, hoth with Dr. Cranmer and Mr. Latimer, as here followeth to be read.

Conference between Dr. RIDLEY, and Mr. LATI|MER, in Prison, upon the Objection of ANTONI|AN, meaning by that Name some Popish Persecutor, as Winchester, alluding thereby to the Story of VICTOR. lib. 3. De persecut. Aphri.

Dr. RIDLEY to Mr. LATIMER.

IN writing again you have done me an unspeak|able pleasure, and I pray that the Lord may requite it you in that day. For I have received great comfort at your words: but yet I am not so ••••lled withal, but that I thirst much more now than before, to drink more of the cup of your's wherein you mingle unto me profitable with pleasant. I pray you, good father, let me have one draught more to comfort my stomach. For surely, except the Lord assist me with his gracious aid, in the time of his service, I know I shall play but the part of a white-livered knight. But truly my trust is in him, that in mine infirmity he should try him|self strong, and that he can make the coward in his cause to fight like a man.

SIR, now I daily look when Diotrephes with his warriors shall assault me: wherefore I pray you, good father, for that you are an old soldier, and an expert warrior, and God knoweth I am but a young soldier, and as yet of small experience in these seats, help me, I pray you, to buckle my harness. And now I would have you to think, that these darts are cast at my head by some of Diotrephes, or Anto|nius's soldiers.

Latimer.

Except the Lord help me, you say. Truth it is. For without me, saith he, you can do nothing, much less suffer death by our adversa|ries, through the bloody law now prepared against us. But it followeth, If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask what you will, and it shall be done for you. What can be more com|fortable? Sir, you make answer yourself so well, that I cannot better it. Sir, I begin to smell what you mean by travelling thus with me; you use me as Bilney once did, when he converted me, pretending as though he would be taught by me, he sought ways and means to teach me, and so do you. I thank you therefore most heartily. For indeed you minister armour unto me, whereas I was unarmed before and unprovided, saving that I give myself to prayer for my refuge.

Objection 1. All men marvel greatly, why you, after the liberty you have granted unto you, more than the rest, do not go to mass, which is a thing much esteemed of all men, yea, of the queen her|self.

Rid.

Because no man that layeth hand on the plough and looketh back is fit for the kingdom of God, and also for the self-same cause why St. Paul would not suffer Titus to be circumcised, which is, that the truth of the gospel might remain with us uncorrupt, Gal. ii. And also, If I build again the things which I have destroyed, I make myself a trespasser. This is likewise another cause: lest I should seem by outward fact to allow the thing, which I am persuaded is contrary to sound doctrine, and so should be a stumbling-block unto the weak. But woe be unto him by whom offence cometh: it were better for him that a mill-stone were hanged about his neck, and he cast into the midst of the sea.

Object. 2. What is it then that offendeth you so greatly in the mass, that you will not vouchsafe once either to hear or see it? And from whence cometh this new religion upon you? Have you not used in times past to say mass yourself?

Rid.

I confess unto you my fault and ignorance; but know you that for these matters I have done penance long ago, both at St. Paul's Cross, and also openly in the pulpit at Cambridge, and I trust God hath forgiven me this mine offence: for I did it ignorantly. But if you be desirous to know, and will vouchsafe to hear what things do offend me in the mass, I will rehearse those things which be most clear, and seem most manifestly to repugn against God's word, and they be these: The strange tongue, the want of shewing of the Lord's death, the breaking of the Lord's commandment of having a communion; the sacrament is not communicated to all under both kinds, according to the word of the Lord; the sign is se••vilely wor|shipped for the thing signified; Christ's passion is injured, forasmuch as this mass-sacrifice is affirmed

to remain for the purging of sins; to be short, the manifold superstitions, and trifling fooleries which are in the mass, and about the same.

Lat.

Better a few things well pondered, than to trouble the memory with too much; you shall pre|vail more with praying, than with studying, though mixture be best, for so one shall alleviate the tedi|ousness of the other. I intend not to contend much with them in words, after a reasonable account of my faith given: for it will be but in vain. They will say as their fathers said, when they have no more to say: We have a law, and by our law he ought to die. Be you stedfast and immoveable, saith St. Paul: and again, Stand fast: and how oft is this repeated, If you abide, &c. But we shall be called obstinate, sturdy, ignorant, heady, and what not; so that a man hath need of much patience, having to do with such men.

Object. 3. But you know how great a crime it is to separate yourself from the communion or fel|lowship of the church, and to make a schism, or division. You have been reported to have hated the sect of the Anabaptists, and always to have im|punged the same. Moreover, this was the perni|cious error of Novatus, and of the heretics called [Cathari], that they would not communicate with the church.

Rid.

I know that the unity of the church is to be retained by all means, and the same is necessary to salvation. But I do not take the mass, as it is at this day, for the communion of the church, but a popish device, whereby both the commandment and the institution of our Saviour Christ, for the oft frequenting of the remembrance of his death, is eluded, and the people of God are miserably delud|ed. The sect of the Anabaptists, and the heresy of the Novitians, ought of right to be condemned, forasmuch as without any just or necessary cause, they wickedly separated themselves from the com|munion of the congregation, for they did not al|ledge that the sacraments were unduly administered, but turning their eyes from themselves, wherewith according to St. Paul's rule, they ought to examine themselves, and casting their eyes ever upon others, either ministers, or communicants with them, they always reproved something for which they ab|stained from the communion, as from an unholy thing.

Lat.

I remember that Calvin beginneth to con|fute the Interim after this sort, with this saying of Hilary, The name of peace is beautiful, and the opinion of unity is fair: but who doubteth that to be the true and only peace of the church, which i•• Christ? I would you had that little book, ther•• would you see how much is to be given to unity▪ St. Paul, when he requireth unity, joineth with it, according to Jesus Christ, no further. Diotreph•••• now of late, did always harp upon unity, unity. Yea, sir, said I, but in verity, not popery. I ha•• nothing again but scornful taunts, with command|ment to the Tower.

Object. 4. But admit there be in the mass, that peradventure might be amended, or at least mad•• better; yea, seeing you will have it so, admit ther•• be a fault; if you do not consent thereto, why do you trouble yourself in vain? Do you not know both by Cyprian and Augustine, that communion of sacraments doth not defile a man, but consent of deeds.

Rid.

If it were any one trifling ceremony, or if it were some one thing of itself indifferent, (although I would wish nothing should be done in the church which doth not edify the same) yet for the conti|nuance of the common quietness I could be content to bear it. But forasmuch as things done in the mass tend openly to the overthrow of Christ's in|stitution, I judge that by no means either in word or deed I ought to consent unto it. As for that which is objected out of the fathers, I acknowledge it to be well spoken, if it be well understood. But it is meant of them which suppose they are defiled, if any secret vice be either in the ministers, or in them that communicate with them; and is not meant of them which do abhor superstition, and wicked traditions of men, and will not suffer the same to trust upon themselves, or upon the church, instead of God's word and the truth of the gospel.

Lat.

The very marrow-bones of the mass are altogether detestable, and therefore by no means to be borne withal; so that of necessity the mending

of it is to abolish it for ever. For if you take away ••bl••tion and adoration, which do hang upon conse|cration and transubstantiation, most of the papists will not set a button by the mass, as a thing which they esteem not, but for the gain that followeth thereon. For if the English communion, which of lat•• was used, were as gainful to them as the mass hath been heretofore, they would strive no more for th••ir mass: from thence groweth the grief.

Object. 5. Consider into what dangers you cast yourself, if you forsake the church; and you cannot but forsake it, if you refuse to go to mass. For the mass is the sacrament of unity; without the ark there is no salvation. The church is the ark and Peter's ship. You know this saying well enough. He shall not have God to be his Father, which acknowledgeth not the church to be his mother. Moreover, without the church, (saith St. Augus|tine) be the life ever so well spent, none shall not inherit the kingdom of heaven.

Rid.

The holy catholic or universal church, which is the communion of saints, the house of God, the city of God, the spouse of Christ, the body of Christ, the pillar and stay of truth; this church I believe according to the creed. This church I ••o reverence and honour in the Lord. But the rule of this church is the word of God, according to which rule we go forward unto life. And as many as walk according to this rule, I say with St. Paul, Peace be upon them, and upon Israel, which pertaineth unto God. The guide of this church is the Holy Ghost. The marks whereby this church is known unto me in this dark world, and in the midst of this crooked and froward generation, are these: The sincere preaching of God's holy word, the due administration of the sacraments, charity, and faithful observing of ecclesiastical discipline, according to the word of God. And that church or congregation which is garnished with these marks, is in very deed that heavenly Jerusalem, which con|sisteth of those that be born from above. This is the mother of us all, and by God's grace I will liv•• and die the child of this church Out of this (I grant) there is no salvation; and I suppose the rest of ••he places objected are rightly to be understood of this church only. In times past, (saith Chry••sostom) there were many ways to know the church of Christ, that is to say, by good life, by miracles, by chastity, by doctrine, by administering the sacra|ments. But from that time that heresies did take hold of the church, it is only known by the scrip|tures, which is the true church. They have all things in outward show, which the true church hath in truth. They have temples like unto our's. Wherefore only by the scriptures do we know which is the true church. To that which they say, That the mass is the sacrament of unity, I answer; The bread which we break, according to the institution of the Lord, is the sacrament of the unity of Christ's mystical body. For we being many, are one bread and one body, forasmuch as we are all partakers of one bread. But in the mass, the Lord's institution is not observed; for we are not all partakers of one bread, but one devoureth all, &c. So that (as it is used) it may seem a sacrament of singularity, and of a certain special privilege for one sect of people, whereby they may be discerned from the rest, rather than a sacrament of unity, wherein our knitting to|gether in one is represented.

Lat.

Yea, what fellowship hath Christ with Antichrist? Therefore it is not lawful to bear the yoke with papists. Come forth from among them, and separate yourselves from them, saith the Lord. It is one thing to be the church indeed, another thing to counterfeit the church. Would to God it were well known what is the forsaking of the church. In the king's days that is dead, who was the church of England? The king and his favourers, or mass|mong••rs in corners? If the king and the favourers of his proceedings, why be we not now the church, abiding in the same proceeding? If private mass|mongers might be of the church, and yet contrary to the king's proceedings, why may not we be of the church contrary to the queen's proceedings? Not all that are covered with the title of the church are the church indeed. Separate thyself from them that are such, saith St. Paul: From whom? The text hath before, If any man follow other doctrine, &c. he is puffed up, and knoweth nothing, &c. Weigh the whole text, that you may perceive what is the fruit of con••entious disputations. But where|fore are such men said to know nothing, when they know so many things? You know the old verses,

Hoc est nescire, sine Christo plurima s••ire: Si Christum bene s••is, satis est, ••i caetera nescis.

THAT is, "This is to be ignorant, to know many things without Christ. If thou knowest Christ well, thou knowest enough, though thou know no more." Therefore would St. Paul know nothing but Jesus Christ crucified, &c. As many as are papists and mass-mongers, they may well be said to know nothing. For they know not Christ, foras|much as in their massing, they take much away from the benefit and merit of Christ.

Object. 6. The church which you have describ|ed to me is invisible, but Christ's church is visible and known. For else why should Christ have said, Tell it unto the church? For he had commanded in vain, if a man cannot tell which it is.

Rid.

The church which I have described is vi|sible, it hath members which may be seen; and also I have before declared, by what marks and tokens it may be known, but if either our eyes be so daz|zled, that we cannot see, or that Satan hath brought such darkness into the world, that it is hard to dis|cern the church; that is not the fault of the church, but either of our blindness, or of Satan's darkness. But yet in this most deep darkness, there is one most clear candle, which of itself alone is able to put away all darkness. Thy word is a candle unto my feet, and a light unto my steps.

Object. 7. The church of Christ is a catholic or universal church, dispersed throughout the whole world; this church is the great house of God, in this are good men and evil mingled together, goats and sheep, corn and chaff; it is the net which ga+thereth all kinds of fishes; this church cannot err, because Christ hath promised it hi•• Spirit, which shall lead it into all truth, and that the gates of hell shall not prevail against it, that he will be with it unto the end of the world; whatsoever it shall loose or bind upon earth shall be ratified in heaven, &c. This church is the pillar and stay of truth; this is it for which St. Augustine saith, he believeth the gospel. But this universal church alloweth the mass, because the greater part of the same alloweth it. Therefore, &c.

Rid.

I grant that the name of the church 〈◊〉〈◊〉 taken after three divers manners in the scriptu••••▪ Sometimes for the whole multitude of them who profess the name of Christ▪ of which they are 〈◊〉〈◊〉 named Christians. But as St. Paul saith of the Jews, not every one is a Jew, that is a Jew o••••|wardly, &c. Neither yet all that be of Israel 〈◊〉〈◊〉 counted the seed; even so, not every one that is a christian outwardly is a christian indeed. For if any man have not the Spirit of Christ, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 same is none of his. Therefore that church which is his body, and of which Christ is the head, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 only on living stones, and true christian••, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 only outwardly in name and title, but inwardly 〈◊〉〈◊〉 heart and in truth. But forasmuch as this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 (which is the second taking of the church) as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the outward fellowship, is contained within 〈◊〉〈◊〉 great house, and hath with the same, outward soci|ety of the sacraments and ministry of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 many things are spoken of that universal churc•• (which St. Augustine calleth the mingled chur••••) which cannot truly be understood, but only of that pure part of the church. So that the rule of Tic••|nius concerning the mingled church, may here we•••• take place; where there is attributed unto the whol•• church that which cannot agree to the same, but by reason of the one part thereof; that is, either for the multitude of good men, which is the very true church indeed; or for the multitude of evil men, which is the malignant church and synagogue of Satan. And there is also a third taking of the church; of which although there be seldom men|tion in the scriptures, in that signification, yet in the world, even in the most famous assemblies of Chris|tendom, this church hath borne the greatest sway. This distinction presupposed of the three sorts o•• churches, it is an easy matter, by a figure called Sy|necdoche, to give to the mingled and universal church that which cannot truly be understood, but only of the one part thereof. But if any man will stiffly affirm, that Universal doth so pertain unto the church, that whatsoever Christ hath promised to the church, it must needs be understood of that, l would gladly know of the same man, where that universal church was in the times of the patriarch•• and prophets, of Noah, Abraham, and Moses, (at such time as the people would have stoned him) of Elias, of Jeremiah, in the times of Christ, and the

dispersion of the apostles, in the time of Arius, when Constantius was emperor, and Felix, bishop of Rome, succeeded Liberius. It is worthy to be noted, what Lyra writeth upon Matthew; The church (saith he) doth not stand in men by reason of their power or dignity, whether it be ecclesiasti|cal or secular. For princes and popes, and other inferiors, have been found to have fallen away from God. Therefore the church consisteth in those persons, in whom is true knowledge and confession of the faith, and of the truth. Evil men (as it is in a gloss of the decrees) are in the church in name, and not in deed. And St. Augustine (Contra Cre|sc••nium grammaticum) saith, Whoever is afraid to be deceived by the darkness of this question, let him ask counsel at the same church of it: which church the scripture doth point out without any doubtful|ness. All my notes which I have written and ga|thered out of such authors as I have read in this matter, and such like, are come into the hands of such as will not let me have the least of all my writ|ten books; wherein I am enforced to complain of them unto God: for they spoil me of all my la|bours, which I have taken in my study these many year. My memory was never good, for help whereof I have used for the most part, to gather out notes of my reading, and so to place them, that thereby I might have had the use of them when the time required. But who knoweth whether this be God's will, that I should be thus ordered, and spoil|ed of the poor learning I had (as I thought) in store, to the intent that I, now destitute of that, should from henceforth, with St. Paul, learn only to know Christ, and him crucified? The Lord grant me herein to be a good young scholar, and to learn this lesson so well, that neither death nor life, wealth nor woe. &c. make me ever to forget that, Amen, Amen.

Lat.

I have no more to say in this matter; for you yourself have said all that is to be said. That same vehement saying of St. Augustine, I would not believe the gospel, &c. was wont to trouble many men; as I remember, I have read it well qualified of Philip Melancthon: but my memory is altogether slippery. This it is in effect; the church is not a judge, but a witness. There were some in his time that lightly esteemed the testimony of the church, and the outward ministry of preach|ing, and rejected the outward word itself, sticking only to their inward revelations. Such rash con|tempt of the word provoked and drove St. Augus|tine into that excessive vehemency. In which, af|ter the bare sound of the words, he might seem to such as do not attain unto his meaning, that he pre|ferred the church far before the gospel, and that the church hath a free authority over the same; but that pious man never thought so. It were a saying worthy to be brought forth against the Anabaptists, who think the open ministry to be a thing not ne|cessary, if they any thing esteemed such testimonies. I would not stick to affirm, that the most part of the great house, that is to say, of the whole univer|sal church, may easily err. And again, I would not stick to affirm, that it is one thing to be gather|ed together in the name of Christ, and another thing to come together with a mass of the Holy Ghost going before. For in the first, Christ ruleth; in the latter, the devil beareth the sway; and how then can any thing be good they go about? From this latter shall our six articles come forth again into the light, they themselves being very darkness. But it is demanded, whether the founder or better part of the catholic church may be seen of men, or no? St. Paul saith, The Lord knoweth them that are his. What manner of speaking is this in com|mendation of the Lord, if we knew as well as he who are his? Well, thus is the text: the sure foundation of God standeth still, and hath this seal, The Lord knoweth them that are his; and let every man that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity. Now how many are there of the whole catholic church of England who depart from iniquity? How many of the noblemen, how many of the bishops or clergy, how many of the rich men, or merchants, how many of the queen's counsellors, yea, how many of the whole realm? In how small room then, I pray you, is the true church within the realm of England? And where is it? And in what state? I had a conceit of my own well ground|ed (as they say) when I began, but now it is fallen by the way.

Object. 8. General councils represent the uni|versal church, and have this promise of Christ; Where two or three be gathered together in my

name, there am I in the midst of them. If Christ be present with two or three, then much more where there is so great a multitude, &c. But in general c••••ncils mass hath be•••• approved and used.

Rid.

Of the universal church, which is mingled of good and bad, thus I think; Whensoever they which be chief in it, which rule and govern the same, and to whom the whole mystical body of Christ doth obey, are the lively members of Christ, and walk after the guiding and rule of his word, and go before the flock to everlasting life, then un|doubtedly councils gathered together of such guides and pastors of the christian flock, do indeed repre|sent the christian church, and being so gathered in the name of Christ, they have a promise of the gift and guiding of his Spirit into all truth. But that any such council hath at any time allowed the mas••, such an one as our's was of late, in a strange tongue, and stuffed with so many absurdities, errors, and superstitions; that I utterly deny, and affirm it to be impossible. For like as there is no agreement betwixt light and darkness, betwixt Christ and Be|lial; so surely superstition and the sincere religion of Christ, will-worship, and the pure worshipping of God, such as God requireth of his, that is, in spirit and truth, can never agree together. But you will say, where so great a company is gathered together, it is not credible but there are two or three gathered together in the name of Christ. I answer, if there be one hundred good, and two hundred bad, (forasmuch as the decrees and ordinances are pro|nounced according to the greater number of the multitude of voices) what can the less number of voices avail? It is a known thing, and a common proverb; oftentimes the greater part overcometh the better.

Lat.

As touching general councils, at this pre|sent I have no more to say than you have said. Only I refer you to your own experience, to think ••f our country parliaments and convocations, how a•••• what you have seen and heard. The greater part in my time did bring forth six articles: for then the king would have it so, being seduced of certain. Afterward the greater part did repel the same, our good Josias willing to have it so. The same articles now again, alas! another great but worse part hath restored. O what an uncertainty is this! But after this manner most commonly are man's proceedings. God be merciful unto 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Who shall deliver us from such torments of mind? Therefore is death the best physician unto the faith|ful, whom he together and at once delivereth from all griefs. You must think this was written upon this occasion, because you would needs have your paper blotted.

Object. 9. If the matter should go thus, that in general councils men should not stand to the gr••••ter number of the multitude (I mean of them which ought to give voices) then should no certain rule be left unto the church, by which controversies in weighty matters might be determined; but it is not to be believed, that Christ would leave his church destitute of so necessary a help and safe-guard.

Rid.

Christ, who is the most loving spouse of his church, who also gave himself for it, that he might sanctify it unto himself, did give unto it abundantly all things which are necessary to salva|tion; but yet so, that the church should declare itself obedient unto him in all things, and keep it|self within the bounds of his commandments, and further not to seek any thing which he teacheth not, as necessary unto salvation. Now further, for de|termination of all controversies in Christ's religion, Christ himself hath left unto the church not only Moses and the prophets, whom he willeth in all doubts to go unto, and ask counsel at, but also the gospels, and the rest of the body of the New Testa|ment; in which whatsoever is heard of Moses and the prophets, and whatsoever is necessary to be known unto salvation, is revealed and opened.

SO that now we have no need to say, Who shall climb up into heaven, or who shall go down into the depth, to tell us what is needful to be done? Christ hath done both, and hath commended to us the word of faith, which also is abundantly declared unto us in his word written; so that hereafter, if we walk earnestly in the way to the searching out of the truth, it is not to be doubted, but through the certain benefit of Christ's Spirit, which he hath promised unto us, we may find it, and obtain ever|lasting life. Should men ask couns••l of the dead for the living, faith Isaiah? Let them go rather to the law and to the testimony, &c. Christ sendeth

them that be desirous to know the truth, unto the scriptures, saying, Search the scriptures. I remem|ber a like thing well spoken of St. Jerome; Igno|rance of the scriptures is the mother and cause of all errors. And in another place, as I remember in the same author; The knowledge of the scriptures is the food of everlasting life. But now methinks I enter into a very broad sea, in that I begin to shew, either out of the scriptures themselves, or out of the ancient writers, how much the holy scripture is of force to teach the truth of our religion. But this i•• it that I am now about, that Christ would have the church, his spouse, in all doubts to ask counsel at the word of his Father written, and faithfully left, and commended unto it in both Testaments, the old and the new. Neither do we read, that Christ in any place hath laid so great a burden upon the members of his spouse, that he hath commanded them to go to the universal church. Whatsoever things are written, saith St. Paul, are written for our learning. And it is true, that Christ gave unto his church, some apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some shepherds and teachers, to the edifying of the saints, till we come all to the unity of faith, &c. But that all men should meet toge|ther out of all parts of the world, to define the arti|cles of our faith, I neither find it commanded by Christ, nor written in the word ot God.

Lat.

There is a difference between things per|taining to God or faith, and politic and civil mat|ters. For in the first we must stand only to the scriptures, which are able to make us all perfect and instructed unto salvation, if they be well under|stood. And they offer thems••••••••s to be well under|stood only to them, which have good-wills, and give themselves to study and prayer. Neither are there any men less apt to understand them, than the prudent and wise men of the world. But in the other, that is, in civil and politic matters, often|times the magistrates do tolerate a less evil, for a|voiding of a greater, as they which have this saying often in their mouths; better an inconveniency than a mischief. And it is the property of a wise man, saith one, to dissemble many things, and he that cannot dissemble, cannot rule. In which say|ings they betray themselves, that they do not earn|estly weigh what is just, and what is not. Where|fore forsormuch as man's laws, if they be but in this respect only, that they be devised by men, are not able to bring any thing to perfection, but are en|forced of necessity to suffer many things out of square, and are compelled sometimes to wink at the worst things: seeing they know not how to maintain the common peace and quiet otherwise, they do ordain that the greater part shall take place. You know what these kind of speeches mean, I speak after the manner of men; you walk after the man|ner of men, all men are liars. And that of St. Augustine, If ye live after man's reason, ye do not live after the will of God.

Object. 10. If you say that councils have some|times erred, or may err, how then should we believe the catholic church? since councils are ga|thered by the authority of the catholic church.

Rid.

From may be, to be indeed, is no good argument: but from being, to may be, no man doubteth but it is a most sure argument. But now that councils have sometimes erred, it is manifest. How many councils were there in the eastern parts of the world, which condemned the Nicene council? and all those who would not forsake the same, they called by a slanderous name (as they thought) Ho|mousians. Was not Athanasius, Chrysostom, Cy|ril, Eustachius, men very well learned, and of godly life, banished and condemned as famous h••retics, and that by wicked councils? How many things are there in the canons and institutions of the councils, which the papists themselves do much dislike? But here peradventure one man will say unto me, We will grant you this in provincial councils, councils of some one nation, that they may sometimes err, forsomuch as they do not represent the universal church; but it is not to be believed, that the general and full councils have erred at any time. Here if I had my books of the councils, or rather such notes as I have gathered out of those books, I could bring something which should serve for this purpose. But now seeing I have them not, I will recite one place only out of St. Austin, which, in my judgment, may suffice in this matter instead of many. Who knoweth not (saith he) that the holy scripture is so set before us, that it is not lawful to doubt of i••, and that the letters of bishops may be reproved by other men's words, and by councils, and that the coun|cils themselves which are gathered by provinces and

countries, do give place to the authority of the general and full councils; and that the former and general councils are amended by the latter, when as by some experience of things, either what was shut up, is opened, or that which was hid, is known. Thus much out of St. Austin. But I will plead upon our Antonian, upon matter con|fessed. Here with us as when popery reigned, I pray you how doth that book, which was called, The bishop's book, made in the time of king Henry the eighth, wherof the bishop of Winches|ter is thought to be either the first father, or chief gatherer; how doth it (I say) sharply reprove the Florentine council, in which was decreed the su|premacy of the bishop of Rome, and that with the consent of the emperor of Constantinople, and of the Grecians? So that in those days our learned ancient fathers and bishops of England did not stick to affirm, that a general council might err. But methinks I hear another man despising all that I have brought forth, and saying, These which you have called councils, are not worthy to be called councils, but rather assemblies and conventicles of heretics. I pray you, sir, why do you judge them worthy of so scandalous a name? Because (saith he) they decreed things heretical, contrary to sound doctrine and true godliness, and against the faith of true religion. The cause is weighty, for which they ought of right so to be called. But if it be so that all councils ought to be despised which decree any thing contrary to sound doctrine, and the true word, which is according to godliness, forsomuch as the mass, such as we had here of late, is openly against the word of God; forsooth, it must of ne|cessity follow, that all such councils, as have ap|proved such masses, ought to be shunned and despised, as conventicles and assemblies that stray from the truth.

ANOTHER man alledgeth unto me the authority of the bishop of Rome, without which, neither can the councils (saith he) be lawfully gathered, neither being gathered, determine any thing con|cerning religion. But this objection is only ground|ed upon the ambitious and shameless maintenance of the Romish tyranny and usurped dominion over the clergy; which tyranny we Englishmen long ago, by the consent of the whole realm, have expelled and abjured. And how rightly we have done it, a little book set forth of both the power••, doth clearly shew. I grant that the Romish a••|bition hath gone about to challenge to itself▪ and to usurp such a privilege of old time. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the council of Carthage, in the year of our Lord 457, did openly withstand it, and also the council at Milevite, in which St. Austin was present, did prohibit any appellations to be made 〈◊〉〈◊〉 bishops beyond the sea.

Object. 11. St. Austin saith, the good 〈◊〉〈◊〉 are not to be forsaken for the evil, but the evi••, are to be borne withal for the good. You will not say (I suppose) that in our congregations all be evil.

Rid.

I speak nothing of the goodness or bad|ness of your congregations; but I fight in Christ's quarrel against the mass, which doth utterly take away and overthrow the ordinance of Christ. Let that be taken quite away, and then the partition wall that made the strife shall be broken down. Now to the place of St. Austin, for bearing with the evil for the good's sake, there ought to be added other words, which the same writer hath expressed in other places; that is, if those evil men do cast abroad no seeds of false doctrine, nor lead others to destruction by their example.

Object. 12. It is perilous to attempt any new thing in the church, which lacketh example of good men. How much more perilous is it to com|mit any act, unto which the examples of the pro|phets, of Chri••t, and of the apostles, are contrary? But unto this your fact, in abstaining from the church by reason of the mass, the examples of the prophets, of Christ, and of the apostles, are clean contrary: therefore, &c. The first part of the argument is evident, and the second part I prove thus. In the times of the prophets, of Christ, and his apostles, all things were most corrupt. The people were miserably given to superstition, the priests despised the law of God; and yet notwith|standing we read not that the prophets made any schisms or divisions; and Christ himself frequented the temple, and taught in the temple of the Jews. Peter and John went up into the temple at the ninth hour of prayer; Paul after the reading of the law, being desired to say something to the people,

did not refuse to do it. Yea further, no man can shew, that either the prophets, or Christ, or his apostles, did refuse to pray together with others, to sacrifice, or to be partakers of the sacrament of Moses' law.

Rid.

I grant the former part of your argument; and to the second part I say, that although it con|tain many true thing••, as of the corrupt state in the times of the prophets, of Christ, and the apostles, and of the temple being frequented by Christ and his apostles; yet notwithstanding the second part of your argument is not sufficiently proved. For you ought to have proved, that either the prophets, either Christ or his apostles, did in the temple communicate with the people in any kind of worshipping which is forbidden by the law of God, or repugnant to the word of God. But that can no where be shewed. And as for the church, I am not angry with it, and I never refused to go to it, and to pray with the people, to hear the word of God, and to do all other things whatsoever may agree with the word of God. St. Austin, speaking of the ceremonies of the Jews, (I suppose in the epistle ad Januarium) although he grants they grievously oppressed that people, both for the number and bondage of the same, yet he calleth them burdens of the law, which were delivered unto them in the word of God, not presumptions of men, which notwith|standing, if they were not contrary to God's word, might in some measure be borne withal. But now, seeing they are contrary to such things as are writ|ten in the word of God, whether they ought to be borne by any christian or no, let him judge who is spiritual, who feareth God more than man, and loveth everlasting life more than this short and transitory life. To that which was said, that my fact lacketh example of the godly fathers that have gone before, the contra••y is most evident in the history of Toby: of whom it is said, that when all others went to the golden calves, which Jeroboam the king of Israel had made, he himself alone fled from their company, and got him to Jerusalem unto the Lord God of Israel. Did not the man of God threaten grievous plagues both unto the priests of Bethel, and to the altar which Jeroboam had there made after his own fantasy? Which plagues king Josias, the true minister of God, did execute at the time appointed. And where do we read, that the prophets or the apostles did agree with the people in their idolatry, when the people went a whoring with their hill-altars? For what cause, I pray you, did the prophets rebuke the people so much, as for their false worshipping of God after their own minds, and not after God's word? For what was so much as that was? Wherefore the false prophets ceased not to accuse the true prophets of God; therefore they beat them, they banished them, &c. How else, I pray you, can you un|derstand what St. Paul alledgeth, when he saith, What concord hath Christ with Belial? or what part hath the believer with the infidel? Or how agreeth the temple of God with images? For ye are the temple of the living God, as God himself hath said; I will dwell among them, and will be their God, and they shall be my people. Where|fore, come out from among them, and separate yourselves from them (saith the Lord), and touch no unclean thing; so will I receive you, and be a Father unto you, and you shall be my sons and daughters, saith the Lord God Almighty.

JUDITH, that holy woman, would not suffer her|self to be with the meats of the wicked. All the saints of God, which truly feared God, when they have been provoked to do any thing which they knew to be contrary to God's law's, have chose to die rather than forsake the laws of their God. Wherefore the Maccabees put themselves in dan|ger of death for the defence of the law, and at length died manfully in the defence of the same. If we do praise (saith St. Augustine) the Maccabees, and that with great admiration, because they did stoutly stand even unto death, for the law of their country; how much more ought we to suffer all things for our baptism, for the sacrament of the body and blood of Christ, &c.? But the supper of the Lord, such a one (I mean) as Christ commanded us to celebrate, the mass utterly abolisheth, and corrupteth most shamefully.

Lat.

Who am I, that should add any thing to this which you have spoken? Nay, I rather thank you, that have vouchsafed to minister so plentiful armour to me, being otherwise altogether unarmed, saving, that he cannot be left destitute of help, who rightly trusteth in the help of God. I only learn to die in reading the New Testament, and am

every now and then praying unto my God, that he will be an helper unto me in time of need.

Object. 13. Seeing you are so obstinately set a|gainst the mass, that you affirm, because it is done in a tongue not understood of the people, and for other causes, I cannot tell what; therefore is it not the true sacrament ordained of Christ? I begin to sus|pect you, that you think not catholicly of baptism also. Is our baptism, which we do use in a tongue unknown to the people, the true baptism, or no? If it be, then the strange tongue doth not hurt the mass. If it be not the baptism of Christ, tell me how you were baptized. Or whether will you, (as the ana|baptists do) that all which were baptized in Latin, should be baptized again in the English tongue?

Rid.

Although I would wish baptism to be given in the vulgar tongue, for the people's sake, which are present, that they may the better under|stand their own profession, also may be more able to teach their children the same, yet notwithstand|ing there is not like necessity of the vulgar tongue in baptism, as in the Lord's supper. Baptism is given to children, who by reason of their age are not able to understand what is spoken unto them, whatsoever it be. The Lord's supper is, and ought to be given to them that are at years of matu|rity. Moreover, in baptism, which is accustomed to be given to children in the Latin tongue, all the substantial points (as a man would say) which Christ commanded to be done, are observed. And there|fore I judge that baptism to be a perfect and true baptism; and that it is not only not needful, but also not lawful for any man so baptized, to be christened again. But yet notwithstanding, they ought to be taught the catechism of the christian faith, when they come to years of discretion; which catechism whosoever despiseth, or will not desirously embrace and willingly learn, in my judgment he playeth not the part of a christian man. But in the popish mass are wanting certain substantials, that is to say, things commanded by the word of God to be observed in the ministration of the Lord's sup|per; of which there is sufficient declaration made before.

Lat.

Where you say [I would wish], surely I would wish that you had spoken more vehemently, and to have said, It is of necessity, that all things in the congregation should be done in the vulgar tongue, for the edifying and comfort of them that are present, notwithstanding that the child itself is sufficiently baptized in the Latin tongue.

Object. 14. Forasmuch as I perceive you are so stiffly, I will not say obstinately bent, and so wedd••d to your opinion, that no gentle exhortations, no wholesome counsels, no other kind of means can ca••l you home to a better mind, there remaineth that which in like c••ses was wont to be the only remedy against stiff-necked and stubborn persons, that is, you must be hampered by the laws, and be com|pelled to obey whether you will or no, or else to suffer that which a rebel to the laws ought to suffer. Do you not know, that whosoever refuseth to obey the laws of the realm, he bewrayeth himself to be an enemy to his country? Do you not know this is the readiest way to stir up sedition and civil war? It is better that you should bear your own sin, than through the example of your breach of the common laws, the common quiet should be disturbed. How can you say, you will be the queen's true subject, when as you do openly profess that you will not keep her laws.

Rid.

O heavenly Father, the Father of all wis|dom, understanding, and true strength, I beseech thee for thy only Son our Saviour Christ's sake, look mercifully upon 〈◊〉〈◊〉 wretched creature, and send thy Holy Spirit into my breast, that not only I may understand according to thy wisdom, how this pestilent and deadly dart is to be borne off, and with what answer it is to be beaten back, but also when I must join to fight in the field for the glory of thy holy name, that then I being strengthened with the defence of thy right hand, may manfully stand in the confession of thy faith, and of thy truth, and continue in the same unto the end of my life, through our Lord Jesus Christ, Amen.

NOW to the objection. I grant it to be reason|able, that he who by words and gentleness cannot be made to yield to that which is right and good, should be bridled by the strait correction of the laws: that is to say, He that will not be subject to God's word, must be punished by the laws. It is tru•• ••hat is commonly said, He that will not obey the 〈◊〉〈◊〉,

must be tamed and taught by the rigour of the law. But these things ought to take place against him, who refuseth to do that which is right and just ac|cording to true godliness, not against him who can|not quietly bear superstitions, but doth hate and detest from his heart such kind of proceedings, and that for the glory of the name of God. To that which you say, a transgressor of the common laws bewrayeth himself to be an enemy of his country, surely a man ought to look unto the nature of the laws, what manner of laws they be which are bro|ken. For a faithful christian ought not to think alike of all manner of laws. But that saying ought only truly to be understood of such laws as are not contrary in truth, (that is to say, in God) they will always judge, if at any time the laws of God and man be the one contrary to the other, that a man ought rather to obey God than man. And they that think otherwise, and pretend a love to that country, forasmuch as they make their country to fight as it were against God, in whom consisteth the only stay of their country, surely I do think such are to be judged most deadly enemies, and traitors to their country. For they that fight against God, who is the safety of their country, what do they else but go about to bring upon their country a present ruin and destruction? But they that do so are worthy to be judged enemies to their country, and betrayers of the realm. Therefore, &c.

BUT this is the readiest way, you say, to stir up sedition to trouble the quiet of the commonwealth; therefore are these things to be repressed in time by force of law. Behold, Satan doth not cease to practise his old guile, and accustomed subtleties. He hath ever this dart in readiness to hurl against his adversaries, to accuse them of sedition, that he may bring them, if he can, in danger of the higher powers. For so hath he by his minister always charged the prophets of God. Ahab said unto Elias, "Art thou he that troubleth Israel?" The false prophets also complained to their princes of Jeremy, that his words were seditious, and not to to suffered: did not the scribes and pharisees false|ly accuse Christ as a seditious person, and one that spake against Caesar's friend? Did they not, at last, cry, "If thou let this man go, thou art not Ca••sar's friend?" The orator Tertullus, how doth he accuse Paul before Felix the high deputy? "We have found this man (saith he) a pestilent fellow, and a stirrer of sedition, unto all the Jews in the whole world, &c. But, I pray you, were these men, as they were called, sedi••ious persons? Christ, Paul, and the prophets? God forbid. But they were by false men falsely accused. And for what, I pray you? But because they reproved before the people their guiles, superstition, and deceit. And when the others could not bear it, and would gladly have had them taken out of the way, they accused them as seditious persons, and troublers of the com|monwealth, that being by this made hateful to the people and princes, they might the more easily be snatched up to be tormented, and put to death. But how far they were from all sedition, their whole doctrine, life, and conversation doth well declare. For that which was objected last of all, that he can|not be a faithful subject to his prince, who profes|seth openly that he will not observe the laws which the prince hath made; here I would wish that I might have an impartial judge, and one that feareth God, to whose judgment in this cause, I promise I will stand. I answer therefore, a man ought to obey his prince, but in the Lord, and never against the Lord. For he that knowingly obeyeth his prince against God, doth not a duty to the prince, but is a deceiver of the prince, and an helpher unto him to work his own destruction. He is also un|just, who giveth not to the prince that which is the prince's, and to God that which is God's. Here cometh to my remembrance that notable saying of Valentinian the emperor for chusing the bishop of Milan. Set him (saith he) in the bishop's seat, to whom if we, as man, do offend at any time, we may submit ourselves. Polycarp the most constant martyr, when he stood before the chief rulers, and was commanded to blaspheme Christ, and to swear by the fortune of Caesar, &c. he answered with a mild spirit: We are taught (saith he) to give ho|nour as is not contrary to God's religion.

HITHERTO you see (good father) how I have in word only made as it were a flourish before the fight, which I shortly look for, and how I have begun to prepare certain kinds of weapons to fight against the adversary of Christ, and to muse myself how the darts of the old enemy may be borne off, and after what manner I may smite him again with the sword of the Spirit. I learn also hereby to

accustom myself to armour, and to try how I can go armed. In Tindal, where I was born, not far from the borders of Scotland, I have known my country|men to watch night and day in their harness, such as they had, and their spears in their hands, especially when they had any private warning of the coming of the Scots. And so doing, although at every such bickering some of them spent their lives, yet by such means, like valiant men, they defended their country. And those that so died, I think that before God they died in a good quarrel, and their offspring and progeny were loved by all the country the better for their father's sake. And in the quarrel of Christ our Saviour, in the defence of his own divine ordinances, by which he giveth unto us life and immortality; yea, in the quarrel of faith and the christian religion, wherein resteth our everlasting salvation, shall we not watch? Shall we not go always armed? Always looking when our adversary (which like a roaring lion seeketh whom he may devour) shall come upon us by reason of our slothfulness? Yea, and woe be unto us, if he can oppress us unawares, which undoubtedly he will do, if he find us sleeping. Let us awake therefore. For if the good man of the house knew at what hour the thief would come, he would surely watch, and not suffer his house to be broken up. Let us awake therefore, I say: Let us not suffer our house to be broken up. Resist the devil, saith St. James, and he will fly from you. Let us therefore resist him manfully, and taking the cross upon our shoulders, let us follow our captain Christ, who by his own blood hath dedicated and hallowed the way which leadeth unto the Father, that is, to the light which no man can attain, the fountain of the everlasting joys. Let us follow, I say, whi|ther he calleth and inviteth us, that after these afflictions, which last but for a moment, whereby he trieth our faith, as gold by the fire, we may everlastingly reign and triumph with him in the glory of the Father, and through the merit of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; to whom, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, be all honour and glory, now and for ever, Amen.

GOOD father, forasmuch as I have determined with myself, to pour forth these my cogitations into thy bosom, here, methinks, I see you suddenly lift|ing up your head towards heaven, after your man|ner, and then looking upon me with your prophet|ical countenance, and speaking to me, with these or like words, Trust not, my son (I beseech you vouchsafe me the honour of this name; for in so doing I shall think myself both honoured and be|loved of you); trust not, I say, my son, to these word-weapons; for the kingdom of God is not in words, but in power. And remember always the words of the Lord. "Do not imagine beforehand, what and how you will speak; for it shall be given you in that same hour what ye shall speak. For it is not you that speak, but the Spirit of your Father which speaketh in you." I pray you there|fore, father, pray for me, that I may cast my whole care upon him, and trust upon him in all perils. For I know, and am surely persuaded, that whatsoever I can imagine or think beforehand, is nothing, except he assist me with his Spirit when the time is. I beseech you therefore, father, pray for me, that such a complete harness of the Spirit, such a boldness of mind may be given unto me, that I may out of a true faith say with David, "I will not trust in my bow, and it is not my sword that shall save me. For he hath no pleasure in the strength of an horse, &c. but the Lord's delight is in them that fear him, and put their trust in his mercy." I beseech you, pray, pray that I may enter this fight only in the name of God, and that when all is past, I being not over|come, through his gracious aid, may remain and stand fast in him, till that day of the Lord, in which to them that obtain the victory shall be given the lively manna to eat, and a triumphant crown for evermore.

NOW, father, I pray you help me to buckle on this harness a little better. For you know the deepness of Satan, being an old soldier, and you have collered with him ere now: blessed be God that hath ever aided you so well. I suppose he may well hold you at the bay. But truly he will not be so willing (I think) to join with you a•• with us youngsters. Sir, I beseech you, let your servant read this my ••abbling unto you, and now and then, as it shall seem unto you best, let your pen run on my book; spare not to blot my paper▪ I give you good leave.

L••t.

Sir, I have caused my man not only to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 your armour unto me, but also to write it out, for it is not only solid armour, but also well buck|led armour. I see not how it could be better. I thank you even from the bottom of my heart for it, and my prayers you shall not lack, trusting that you do the like for me; for indeed there is the help, &c. many things make confusion in memory. And if I were learned as well as St. Paul, I would not bestow much amongst them, further than to ••••ll them, and spur-gall too, when and where oc|casion were given, and matter came to mind, for the law shall be their sheet-anchor stay, and refuge. Therefore there is no remedy (namely, now when they have them after-bowl in their hand, and rule the ••••st) but patience. Better is it to suffer what cru|elly they will put upon us, than to incur God's high indignation. Wherefore (my good lord) be of good cheer in the Lord, with due consideration what he requireth of you, and what he doth promise you. Our common enemy shall do no more than God will permit him. God is faithful, who will not suffer us to be tempted above our strength, &c. Be at a point what you will stand unto; stick unto that, and let them both say and do what they list. They can but kill the body, which otherwise is of itself mortal. Neither yet shall they do that when they list, but as God will suffer them, when the hour appointed is come. It will be but in vain to use many words with them, now they have a bloody and deadly law prepared for you. But it is very requisite that you give a reason|able account of your faith, if they will quietly hear you; else, you know, in a wicked place of judg|ment a man may keep silence, after the example of Christ. Let them not deceive you with their sophisti|cal sophisms and fallacies: you know that false things may have more appearance of truth, than things that be most true: therefore St. Paul giveth us a watch-word, Let no man deceive you with likeli|ness of speech. Neither is it requisite that with the contentious you should follow strife of words, which tend to no edification, but to the subversion of the hearers, and the vain bragging and ostenta|tion of the adversaries. Fear of death doth mostly persuade a great number. Be well aware of that argument; for that persuaded Shaxton (as many men thought) after that he had once made a good profession openly before the judgment-seat. The flesh is weak, but the willingness of the spirit shall refresh the weakness of the flesh.

THE number of the criers under the altar must needs be fulfilled; if we be separated there unto, hap|py be we. That is the greatest promotion that God giveth in this world, to be such Philippians, to whom it is given not only to believe, but also to suffer, &c. But who is able to do these things? Surely all our ability, all our sufficiency is of God. He requireth and promiseth. Let us declare our obe|dience to his will when it shall be requisite in the time of trouble, yea, in the midst of the fire.

WHEN that number is fulfilled, which I suppose will be shortly, then have at the papists, when they shall say, Peace, all things are safe, when Christ shall come to keep his great parliament to redress all things that are amiss. But he shall not come as the papists feign him, to hide himself, and to play bo peep as it were under a piece of bread; but he shall come gloriously, to the terror and fear of all papists, and to the great consolation and comfort of all that will here suffer for him. Comfort yourselves and one another with these words.

LO, sir, here have I blotted your paper vainly, and played the fool egregiously; but so I thought better than not to fulfil your request at this time. Pardon me, and pray for me. For I am sometimes so fearful, that I would creep into a mouse-hole; sometimes God doth visit me again with his com|fort. So he cometh and goeth, to teach me to feel and to know mine infirmity, to the intent to give thanks to him that is worthy, lest I should rob him of his due, as many do, and almost all the world. Fare you well.

WHAT belief is to be given to papists may ap|pear by their racking, writing, wrinching, and monstrously injuring of God's holy scripture, as appeareth in the pope's law. But I dwell here now in a school of forgetfulness. Fare you well once again, and be you stedfast and unmoveable in the Lord. Paul loved Timothy marvellously well, notwithstanding he saith unto him, "Be thou par|taker of the afflictions of the gospel;" and again, "Harden thyself to suffer afflictions. Be faithful

unto death and I will give thee a crown of life," saith the Lord.

LETTER I. From Bishop RIDLEY and his Fellow-Prisoners, to Mr. BRADFORD and his Fellow-Prisoners, in the King's-Bench, in Southwark, Anno 1554.

WELL beloved in Christ our Saviour, we all with one heart wish to you, with all those that love God in deed and truth, grace and health, and especially to our dearly beloved companions which are in Christ's cause, and the cause both of their brethren and of their own salvation, to put their neck willingly under the yoke of Christ's cross. How joyful it was to hear the report of Dr. Taylor, and of his godly confession, &c, I assure you it is hard for me to express.

BLESSED be God, which was and is the giver of that, and of all godly strength and support in the time of adversity. As for the rumours that have or do go abroad, either of our relenting or mas|sing, we trust, that they which know God and their duty towards their brethren in Christ, will not be too light of belief. For it is not the slanderer's evil tongue, but a man's evil deed that can with God de|file a man; and therefore with God's grace, you shall never have cause to do otherwise than you say you do, that is, not to doubt but that we will by God's grace, continue, &c. Like rumours as you have heard of our coming to London, have been here spread of the coming of certain learned men prisoners, hither from London; but as yet we know no certainty which of these rumours is, or shall be more true. Know you that we have you in our daily remembrance, and wish you and all the rest of our foresaid companions well in Christ.

IT would much comfort us, if we might have knowledge of the state of the rest of our most dearly beloved, which in this troublesome time do stand in Christ's cause, and in the defence of the truth thereof. We have heard somewhat of Mr. Hoop|er's matter, but nothing of the rest. We long to hear of father Crome, Dr. Sands, Mr. Saunders, Veron, Peacon, Rogers, &c. We are in good health, thanks be to God, and yet the manner of using us doth change as sour ale in summer. It is reported to us by our keepers, that the university beareth us heavily. A coal happened to fall in the night out of the chimney, and burnt a hole in the floor, and no more harm was done, the bailiff's servant sitting by the fire. Another night there chanced (as the bailiffs told us) a drunken fellow to multiply words, and for the same he was set in Bocardo. Upon these things as is reported, there is a rumour risen in the town and country about, that we would have broke the prison with such' violence, as that if the bailiffs had not played the pretty men, we should have made an escape. We had out of our prison a wall that we might have walked upon, and our servants had liberty to go abroad in the town or fields, but now both they and we are restrained of both.

MY lord of Worcester passed through Oxford, but he did not visit us. The same day our restraint began to be more close, and the book of the com|munion was taken from us by the bailiffs at the mayor's command, as the bailiffs did report to us. No man is licensed to come unto us; before they might, that would see us upon the wall, but that is so grudged at, and so evil reported, that we are now restrained, &c. Sir, blessed be God with all our evil reports, grudges and restraints, we are merry in God, all our care is and shall be (by God's grace) to please and serve him, of whom we look and hope, after these temporal and momentary mi|series, to have eternal joy and perpetual felicity with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, Peter and Paul, and all the heavenly company of angels in heaven, through Jesus Christ our Lord. As yet there has no learn|ed man, nor any scholar, been to visit us since we came into Bocardo, which now may be called a college of Quondams. For as you know we are no fewer than three, and I dare say every one well contented with his portion, which I do reckon to be our heavenly Father's fatherly, good, and gra|cious gift. Thus fare you well. We shall by God's grace one day meet together, and be merry. The day assuredly approacheth apace; the Lord grant that it may shortly come. For before that day come, I fear the world will wax worse and worse. But then all our enemies shall be over|thrown

and trodden under foot; righteousness and truth then shall have the victory, and bear the bell away, whereof the Lord grant us to be partakers, and all that love truly the truth.

We all pray you, as we can, to cause all our commendations to be made unto all such as you know did visit us and you when we were in the Tower, with their friendly remembrances and be|nefits. Mrs. Wilkson and Mrs. Warcup have not forgotten us, but ever since we came to Bocar|do, with their charitable and friendly benevolence have comforted us: not that else we did lack, (for God be blessed, he hath always sufficiently provided for us) but that is a great comfort, and an occasion for us to bless God, when we see that he maketh them so tender unto us, whom some of us were never familiarly acquainted withal.

Your's in Christ, NICHOLAS RIDLEY.

LETTER II. From Bishop RIDLEY to his COUSIN.

GOD's Holy Spirit be with you now and ever, Amen.

WHEN I call to remembrance, beloved cousin, the state of those that for fear of trouble, or for loss of goods, will do in the sight of the world those things that they know and are assured are contrary to the will of God, I can do no less than lament their cas••▪ being assured the end thereof will be so pitiful (without speedy repentance) that I tremble and fear to have it in remembrance. I would to God it lay upon some earthly burden, so that free|dom of conscience might be gi••en unto them. I wrote (as God knoweth) but o•• lamenting the state of those who I thought now in this dangerous time should have given both you and me comfortable instruction. But alas! instead thereof we have instructions to follow (I lament to rehearse it) su|perstitious idolatry. Yea, and what is worst of all, they will seek to prove it by the scriptures. The Lord, for his mercy, turn their hearts, Amen. Commend me, &c. Your's.

NICHOLAS RIDLEY.

LETTER III. From Bishop RIDLEY to Mr. BRADFORD.

BROTHER Bradford, I wish you and your company in Christ, yea, and all the holy bro|therhood, that now with you in divers prisons suf|fer and bear patiently the cross of Christ for the maintenance of his gospel, grace, mercy, and peace, from God the Father, and from our Lord Jesus Christ.

SIR, considering the state of this chivalry and warfare, wherein I doubt not but we be set to fight under Christ's banner, and his cross, against our spiritual enemy the devil, and the old serpent Satan, methinks I perceive two things to be his most pe|rilous and most dangerous engines, which he hath to impugn the verity of Christ, his gospel, and his faith; and the same two also be the most mas|sy posts, and most mighty pillars, whereby he maintaineth and upholdeth this satanical synagogue. These two, sir, are they, in my judgment: the one, his false doctrine and idolatrous use of the Lord's supper, and the other, the wicked and abominable usurpation of the primacy of the see of Rome. By these two Satan seemeth to me princi|pally to maintain and uphold his kingdom; by these two he driveth down mightily (alas! I fear me) the third part of the stars in heaven. These two poisonous rotten posts he had so painted over with such a pretence and colour of religion, of u|nity in Christ's church, of the catholic faith, and such like, that the wily serpent is able to deceive (if it were possible) even the elect of God. Where|fore St. John saith, not without great cause, "If any man know not Satan's subtleties and the pro|fundities thereof, I will wish him no other burden to be laden with."

SIR, because these be his principal and main posts whereupon standeth all his falsehood, craft, and treachery, therefore according to the poor power that God hath given me, I have bended mine artillery to shoot at the same. I know it to be but little (God knoweth) that I can do, and of my shot I know that they care not. Yet I will not, God willing, cease to do the best I can,

to shake those cankered and rotten posts. The Lord grant me good success, to the glory of his name, and the furtherance of Christ's gospel. I have now already (I thank God) for this present time spent a good part of my powder in these scrib|blings, whereof this bearer shall give you know|ledge. Good brother Bradford, let the wicked surmise and say what they list; know you for a certainty, by God's grace, without all doubt, that in the cause of Christ's gospel, against and upon the aforesaid enemies of God, I am fully determined to live and die. Farewel, dear brother, and I beseec•• you, and all the rest of our brethren to have good remembrance of the condemned heretics, as they call them, of Oxford, in your prayers. The bea•••• shall certify you of our state. Farewel in the Lord. From Bocardo.

Your's in Christ, NICHOLAS RIDLEY.

LETTER IV. From Bishop RIDLEY to Mr. BRADFORD, and his Fellow Prisoners.

DEARLY beloved, I wish you grace, mercy, and peace.

ACCORDING to your mind, I have run over all your papers, and what I have done (which is but small) therein may appear. In two places I have put in two loose leaves. I had much ado to read what was written in your great leaves, and I think somewhere I have altered some words, because I could not perfectly read that which was written. Sir, what shall be best done with these things, now you must consider; for if they come in sight at this time, undoubtedly they must go to the fire with their author: and as for any safe-guard that your custody can be unto them, I am sure you look for no other, but to have and receive like wages, and to drink of the same cup. Blessed be God, that hath given you liberty in the mean season, that you may use your pen to his glory, and the comfort (as I hear say) of many. I bless God daily in you, and all your whole company, to whom I beseech you commend me heartily. Now I love my country|man in deed and in truth, I mean Dr. Taylor, not for my earthly country's sake, but for our heavenly Father's sake, and for Christ's sake, whom, I heard say, he did stoutly in the time of danger confess, and yet also for our country's sake, and for all our mother's sake; but I mean of the kingdom of hea|ven, and of the heavenly Jerusalem, and because of the Spirit which bringeth forth in him, in you, and in our company such blessed fruits of boldness in the Lord's cause, of patience and constancy. The Lord, who hath begun this work in you all, per|form and perfect this his own deed, ••ntil his own day come, Amen.

AND yet I perceive you have not been baited, and the cause thereof God knoweth, which will let them do no more than his good will and pleasure to suffer them to do for his own glory, and to the profit of them which be truly his For the Father, who guideth them that be Christ's to Christ, is more mighty than all they, and no man is able to pull them out of the Father's hands; except, I say, it please our Father, it please our master Christ to suffer them, they shall not stir one hair of your head.

MY brother P. the bearer hereof, and Mr. Hooper's letters, would that we should say what we think good concerning your mind: that is, not to answer, except you might have impartial judges; we are (as you know separated, and cannot consult with one another, and we be so narrowly watched by the bailiffs about us, that we have no opportu|nity of private conference. And yet, as we hear, the scholars bear us more heavily than the towns|men. A wonderful thing, among so many, never yet a scholar offered any of us (so far as I know) any manner of favour, either for or in Christ's cause.

NOW as concerning your demand of your counsel, for my part I do not dislike that which I perceive you ar•• minded to do. For I look for none other, but if you answer before the commissioners that we did, you shall be served and handled as we were, though you were as well learned as ever was either Peter or Paul. And yet further I think, that oc|casion afterwards may be given you, and the consi|deration of the profit of your auditory may per|chance move you to do otherwise.

FINALLY, determinately to say what shall be best,

I am not able; but I trust he, whose cause you have in hand, shall put you in mind to do that which shall be most for his glory, the profit of his flock, and your own salvation. This letter must be com+mon to you and Mr. Hooper, in whom and in his fellow-prisoner good father C—, I bless God, even from the bottom of my heart; for I doubt not but they both do to our master Christ, true, acceptable, and honourable service, and profitable to his flock; the one with his pen, and the other with his father|ly example of patience and constancy, and all man|ner of true godliness. But what shall I need to say to you? Let this be common among your bre|thren, among whom, I dare say, it is with you as it is with us, to whom all things here are common, meat, money, and whatsoever any of us hath, that can or may do another good. Although I said the bailiffs and our hostess do strictly watch us, that we have no conference or intelligence of any thing a|broad▪ yet God hath provided for every one of us in|stead of our servants, faithful fellows, who are con|tent to hear and see, and to do for us whatever they can. It is God's work surely, blessed be God for his unspeakable goodness. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the commu|nication of the Holy Ghost, be with you all, Amen.

AS far as London is from Oxford, yet thence we have received of late, both meat, money, and shirts, not only from such as are our acquaintance, but of some (whom this bearer can tell) with whom to my knowledge I never had any acquaintance. I know for whose sake they do; to him therefore be all honour, glory, and due thanks.

AND yet I pray you do so much as to shew them, that we have received their benevolence, and (God be blessed) have plenty of all such things. This I desire you to do: for I know they be of Mr. Hooper's and your familiar acquaintance. Mr Latimer was out of order; but now (thanks be to God) he amendeth again.

NICHOLAS RIDLEY.

LETTER V. From the Same to the Same.

O Dear brother, seeing the time is now come, wherein it pleaseth the heavenly Father, for Christ our Saviour's sake, to call upon you, and to bid you to come, happy are you that ever you were born, thus to be found awake at the Lord's calling. "Well done, good and faithful servant, because thou hast been faithful in small matters, he shall set thee over great things, and thou shalt enter into the joy of thy Lord."

O dear brother, what meaneth this, that you are sent into your own native country? The wisdom and policy of the world may mean what they will, but I trust God will so order the matter finally by his fatherly providence, that some great occasion of God's gracious goodness shall be plentifully poured abroad amongst our dear brethren in that country by this your martyrdom, where the martyrs for Christ's sake shed their blood, and lost their lives, O what wondrous things hath Christ afterwards wrought to his glory, and confirmation of their doctrine? If it be not the place that sanctifieth the man, but the holy man doth by Christ sanctify the place, brother Bradford, then happy and holy shall be that place wherein thou shalt suffer, and shall be with thy ashes in Christ's cause sprinkled over withal. All thy country may rejoice of thee, that it ever brought forth such a one, which would ren|der his life again in his cause of whom he had re|ceived it. Brother Bradford, so long as I shall understand thou art in thy journey, by God's grace I shall call upon our heavenly Father, for Christ's sake to set thee safely home; and then, good bro|ther, speak you, and pray for the remnant which are to suffer for Christ's sake, according to that thou then shalt know more clearly.

WE do look now every day when we shall be called on, blessed be God. I think I am the weak|est many ways of our company; and yet I thank our Lord God and heavenly Father by Christ, that since I heard of our dear brother Rogers's depart|ing, and stout confession of Christ and his truth, even unto death, my heart (blessed be God) rejoiced for it, that since that time (I say) I never felt any great heaviness in my heart, as I grant I have felt sometime before. O good brother, blessed be God in thee, and blessed be the time that ever I knew thee. Farewel, farewel.

Your brother in Christ, NICHOLAS RIDLEY.

LETTER VI. To the BRETHREN remaining in Captivity, and disper|sed abroad in sundry prisons, but knit together in Unity of the Spirit and Holy Religion, in the Bowels of the LORD JESUS.

GRACE, peace, and mercy, be multiplied a|mong you. What worthy thanks can we render unto the Lord for you my brethren, namely, for the great consolation which through you we have received in the Lord, who notwithstanding the rage of Satan, that goeth about by all manner of subtle means to beguile the world, and also busily labour|eth to restore and set up his kingdom again, that of late began to decay and fall to ruin; you remain yet still immoveable, as men surely grounded upon a strong rock. And now, albeit, that Satan by his soldiers and wicked ministers, daily (as we hear) draweth numbers unto him, so that it is said of him, that he plucketh the very stars out of heaven, while he driveth into some men the fear of death, and loss of all their goods, and sheweth to others the pleasant baits of the world; namely, riches, wealth, and all kinds of delights and pleasures, fair houses, great revenues, fat benefices, and what not; and all to the intent that they should fall down and wor|ship, not the Lord, but the dragon, the old serpent, which is the devil, that great beast and his image, and should be enticed to commit fornication with the strumpet of Babylon, together with the kings of the earth, with the lesser beast, and with the false prophets, and so to rejoice and be pleasant with her, and to get drunken with the wine of her fornica|tion: yet blessed be God the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which hath given unto you a manly courage, and hath so strengthened you in the inward man, by the power of his Spirit, that you can con|temn as well all the allurements of the world, esteeming them as vanities, mere trifles, and things of nought; who hath also wrought, planted, and surely established in your hearts, so stedfast a faith and love of the Lord Jesus Christ, joined with such constancy, that by no engines of Antichrist, be they ever so terrible or plausible, you will suffer any other Jesus, or any other Christ to be forc••d upon you, besides him whom the prophets have spoken of before, the apostles have preached, the holy martyrs of God have confessed and testified with the effusion of their blood.

IN this faith stand you fast, my brethren, and suffer not yourselves to be brought under the yoke of bondage and superstition any more. For you know, brethren, how our Saviour warned us before|hand, that such should come as would set him out with so many false miracles, and with such deceiva|ble and subtle practices, that even the very elect, (if it were possible) should thereby be deceived: such strong delusion to come did our Saviour give warning of before. But continue you faithful and constant, and be of good comfort, and remember that our great captain hath overcome the world, for he that is in us, is stronger than he that is in the world, and the Lord promiseth us, that for the elect's sake, the days of wickedness shall be short|ened. In the mean season abide you and endure with patience as you have begun: endure I say, and reserve yourselves unto better times, as one of the heathen poets said; cease not to shew yourselves valiant soldiers of the Lord, and help to maintain the travelling faith of the gospel.

YOU have need of patience, that after you have done the will of God you may receive the promises, "For yet a very little, and he that shall come, will come, and will not tarry; and the just shall live by faith: but if any withdraw himself, my soul shall have no pleasure in him (saith the Lord). But we are not they which do withdraw ourselves unto damnation, but believe unto the salvation of the soul." Let us not suffer these words of Christ to fall out of our hearts by any manner of terror, or threatenings of the world. Fear not them which kill the body, the rest you know. For I write not unto you, as men which are ignorant of the truth, but who know the truth, and to this end only, that we agreeing together in one faith, may comfort one another, and be more confirmed and strengthened thereby. We never had a better, or more just cause either to contemn our life, or shed our blood; we cannot take in hand the defence of a more certain, clear, and manifest truth. For it is not any ceremony for which we contend; but it toucheth the very substance of our whole religion, yea, even Christ himself. Shall we, or can we re|ceive

any other Christ instead of him, who is alone the everlasting Son of the everlasting Father, and is the brightness of the glory, and a lively image of the substance of the Father, in whom only dwel|eth corporally the fulness of the Godhead, who is the only way, the truth, and the life? Let such wickedness, my brethren, let such horrible wicked|ness be far from us. For although there be that are called gods, whether in heaven or in earth, as there be many gods, and many lords, yet unto us there is but one God, who is the Father, of whom are all things, and we by him; but every man hath not knowledge. "This is life eternal, (saith St. John) that they know thee to be the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent." If any therefore would force upon us any other God, be|sides him whom Paul and the apostles have taught, let us not hear him, but let us fly from, and hold him accursed.

BRETHREN, you are not ignorant of the deep and profound subtleties of Satan; for he will not cease to range about you, seeking by all means possible whom he may devour: but play you the men, and be of good comfort in the Lord. And although your enemies and the adversaries of the truth, arm|ed with all worldly force and power that may be, do set upon you; yet be you not faint-hearted, and shrink not therefore, but trust unto your captain Christ, trust unto the Spirit of truth, and trust to the truth of your cause; which as it may by the malice of Satan be darkened, so can it never be ••lean put out. For we have (high praise be given to God therefore) most plainly, evidently, and clearly on our side, all the prophets, all the apostles, and undoubtedly all the ancient ecclesiastical writers which have written, until of late years past.

LET us be hearty and of good courage therefore, and thoroughly comfort ourselves in the Lord. Be in no wise afraid of your adversaries; for that which is to them an occasion of perdition, is to you a sure token of salvation, and that of God. For unto you it is given, that not only you should believe on him, but also suffer for his sake. And when you are railed upon for the name of Christ, remember that by the voice of Peter, yea, and of Christ our Sa|viour also, ye are counted with the prophets, with the apostles, and with the holy martyrs of Christ, happy and blessed for ever: for the glory and Spirit of God resteth upon you.

ON their part our Saviour Christ is evil spoken of, but on your part he is glorified. For what can they else do unto you by persecuting you, and working all cruelty and villainly against you, but make your crowns more glorious, yea, beautify and multiply the same, and heap upon themselves the horrible plagues and heavy wrath of God: and therefore, good brethren, though they rage ever so fiercely against us, yet let us not wish evil unto them again, knowing that while for Christ's cause they vex and persecute us, they are like madmen, most outrageous and cruel against themselves, heapi••g hot burning coals upon their own heads: but ra|ther wish well unto them, knowing that we are thereunto called in Christ Jesus, that we should be heirs of the blessing. Let us pray therefore unto God, that he would drive out of their hearts this darkness of errors, and make the light of his truth to shine unto them, that they acknowledging their blindness, may with all humble repentance be con|verted unto the Lord, and with us confess him to be the only true God, which is the Father of light, and his only Son Jesus Christ, worshipping him in spirit and truth, Amen. The Spirit of our Lord Jesus Christ comfort your hearts in the love of God, and patience of Christ, Amen.

Your brother in the Lord, whose name this bearer shall signify unto you, ready always by the grace o•• God to live and die with you.

LETTER VII. From Bishop RIDLEY to the BRETHREN which constant|ly cleave unto Christ, in suffering Affliction with him and for his Sake.

GRACE and peace from God the Father, and from our Lord Jesus Christ, be multiplied unto you, Amen.

ALTHOUGH, brethren, we have of late heard nothing from you, neither have at this present any news to send to you: yet we thought good to write something unto you, whereby you might understand that we have good remembrance of you

continually, as we doubt not b•••• you have of us also. When this messenger, coming unto us from you of late, had brought unto us good tidings of your great constancy, fortitude, and patience in the Lord, we were filled with much joy and gladness, giving thanks to God the Father through our Lord Jesus Christ, which hath caused his ••a••e so to shine upon you, and with the light of sp••••itual under|standing hath so enlightened your hearts, that now being in captivity and bonds for Christ's cause, you have not ceased as much as in you lieth, by words, but much more by deeds and by your example, to establish and confirm that thing, which when you were at liberty in the world, you laboured to publish and set abroad by the word and doctrine: that is to say, holding fast the word of life, you shine as lights in the world, in the midst of a wicked and crooked nation, and that with so much the greater glory of our Lord Jesus Christ, and profit of your brethren, by how much Satan more cruelly now rageth, and busily laboureth to darken the light of the gospel.

AND as for the darkness that Sa••an now bringeth upon the church of England, who needeth to doubt thereof? Of late time our Saviour Christ, his apostles, prophets, and teachers, spake in the tem|ple to the people of England in the English tongue, so that they might be plainly understood by the godly, and such as sougnt for heavenly knowledge in matters, which of necessity pertained to the ob|taining of eternal life; b••t now those things which once were written by them for the edifying of the congregation, are read in a strange tongue without interpretation, manifestly against St. Paul's com|mandment, so that there is no man able to under|stand them, who hath not learned that strange and unknown tongue.

OF late days those heavenly mysteries, whereby Christ hath ingrafted us into his body, and hath united us one to another, whereby also being rege|nerate, and born a-new to God, he hath nourished increased, and strengthened us, whereby moreover either he hath taught and set forth an order amongst them which are whole, or else to the sick in soul or body, hath given, as it were, wholesome medicines and remedies; these (I say) were all plainly set forth to the people in their own language; so that what great and exceeding good things every one owed to another by God's ordinance, what every one had professed in his vocation, and was bound to observe, where remedy was to be had for the wicked and feeble, he to whom God hath given a desire and willing heart to understand these things, might soon perceive and understand. But now all these things are taught and set forth in such sort, that the p••••|ple redeemed with Christ's blood, and for whose sakes they were by Christ himself ordained, can have no manner of understanding thereof at all.

OF late (forasmuch as we know not how to pray as we ought) our Lord Jesus Christ in his prayer▪ whereof he would have no man ignoran••, and also the Holy Ghost in the Psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, which are set forth in the Bible, did teach and instruct all the people of England in the Eng|lish tongue, that they might ask such things as are according to the will of the Father, and might join their hearts and lips in prayer together; but now all these things are commanded to be hid and shut up from them in a strange tongue, whereby it must needs follow, that the people can neither tell how to pray, nor what to pray for; and how can they join their hearts and voice together, when they un|derstand no more what the voice signifieth that a brute beast?

FINALLY, I hear say, that the catechism, which was lately set forth in the English tongue, is now in every pulpit condemned. O devilish malice, and most spitefully injurious to the salvation of man|kind purchased by Jesus Christ! Indeed Satan could not long suffer that so great a light should be spread abroad in the world; he saw well enough that nothing was able to overthrow his kingdom so much, as if children being instructed in religion, should learn to know Christ whilst they are yet young: whereby not only children, but the elder sort also, and aged people that were not taught be|fore how to know Christ in their childhood, should now even with children and babes, be forced to learn to know him. Now therefore he roareth, now he rageth. But what else do they, brethren, who serve Satan, and become his ministers and slaves maintaining his impiety, but even the same which they did, to whom Christ our Saviour threat|ened this curse in the gospel; "Woe unto you

who shut up the kingdom of heaven before men, and take away the key of knowledge from them: you yourselves have not entered in, neither have ye suffered them that would enter, to come in."

AND from whence shall we say (brethren) that this horrible and mischievous darkness proceedeth, which is now brought upon the world? From whence, I pray you, but even from the smoke of the great furnace of the bottomless pit, so that the sun and the air are now darkened by the smoke of the pit? Now, even now, (out of doubt, brethren) the pit is opened against us, and the locusts begin to swarm, and Abaddon now reigneth.

YE therefore, brethren, which pertain unto Christ, and have the seal of God marked in your foreheads; that is, are sealed with an earnest of the Spirit to be a peculiar people of God, quit yourselves like men, and be strong; for he that is in us, is stronger than he that is in the world; and you know that all who are born of God overcome the world, and this is our victory that overcometh the world, even our faith. Let the world fret, let it rage ever so much, be it ever so cruel and bloody, yet be you sure that no man can take us out of the Father's hands: for he is greater than all, who hath not spared his own Son, but hath given him to death for us all; and therefore how shall he not with him give us all things also? Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect? It is God that justifieth, who then shall condemn? It is Christ that is dead, yea rather which is risen again, who is also at the right hand of God, and maketh request also for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or anguish, or persecution, or fa|mine, or nakedness, or peril, or the sword? The rest you know brethren. We are certainly persuad+ed with St. Paul, by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that no kind of thing shall be able to sepa|rate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Which thing, that it may come to pass by the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, to the comfort both of you and of us all, as we for our parts will continually (God willing) pray for you; so, dear brethren in the Lord, with all earnest and hearty request we beseech you, even in the bowels of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you will not cease to pray for us. Fare you well, dear bre|thren. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all evermore, Amen.

NICHOLAS RIDLEY.

LETTER VIII. From Bishop RIDLEY, in Answer to a certain Letter of one Mr. WEST, sometime his Chaplain.

I Wish you grace in God, and love of the truth, without which truly established in men's hearts by the mighty hand of Almighty God, it is no more possible to stand by the truth in Christ in time of trouble, than it is for the wax to abide the heat of the fire. Sir, you know this, that I am, blessed be God, persuaded that this world is but transitory, and (as St. John saith) "The world passeth away and the lust thereof." I am persuaded that Christ's words be true; "Whosoever shall confess me before men, him will I confess also before my Father which is in heaven." And I believe that no earthly creature shall be saved, whom the Redeemer and Saviour of the world shall before his Father deny. This the Lord grant, that it may be so grafted, fixed, and established in my heart, that neither things present nor to come, high nor low, life nor death, be able to remove me thence. It is a goodly wish, that you wish me deeply to consider the things pertaining unto God's glory; but if you had wished also, that neither fear of death, nor hope of worldly prosperity should hinder me to maintain God's word and his truth, which is his glory and true honour, it would have pleased me well. You desire me, for God's sake, to remember myself. Indeed, sir, now it is time so to do; for, so far as I can perceive, it standeth me upon no less danger, than the loss both of body and soul; and I think it is time for a man to awake, if any thing will awake him. He that will not fear him that threateneth to cast both body and soul into everlasting fire, whom will he fear? With this fear, O Lord, fasten thou together our frail flesh, that we never swerve from thy laws. You say you have made much suit for me. Sir, God grant that you have not, in suing for my worldly deliverance, impaired and hindered the furtherance of God's word and his truth.

YOU have known me long indeed; in which time I happened, as you say, to mislike some things. I

grant it is true; for sudden changes without sub|stantial and necessary cause, and the hasty setting forth of extrem••ti••s, I did never love. Confession unto the minister who is able to instruct, correct, comfort, and inform the weak, wounded, and ig|norant conscience, indeed I ever thought might do much good in Christ's congregation, and so I assure you, I think even at this day. My doctrine and my preaching, you say, you have heard often, and after your judgment have thought it godly, saving only for the sacrament, which thing, although it was by me reverently handled, and a great deal bet|ter than of the rest (as you say), yet in the margin you write warily, and in this world wisely; and yet methought all sounding not well. Sir, but that I see so many changes in this world, and so much alteration, else at this your saying I would not a little marvel. I have taken you for my friend, and a man whom I fancied for plainness and faithful|ness, as much, I assure you, as for your learning; and have you kept this so close in your heart from me unto this day? Sir, I consider more things than one, and will not say all that I think. But what need you to ca••e what I think, for any thing I shall be able to do to you, either good or harm? You give me good lessons to stand in nothing against my learning, and to beware of vain-glory. Truly, I herein like your counsel very well, and by God's grace I intend to follow it unto my life's end.

TO write unto those whom you name, I cannot see what it will avail me. For this I would have you know, that I esteem nothing available for me, which will not also further the glory of God. And now, because I perceive you have an entire zeal and desire of my deliverance out of this captivity and worldly misery, if I should not bear you a good heart in God again, m••thinks I were to blame. Sir, how nigh the day of my dissolution and depar|ture out of this world is at hand, I cannot tell: the Lord's will be fulfilled how soon soever it shall come. I know the Lord's words must be verified on me that I shall appear before the incorrupt Judge, and be accountable to him for all my former life. And though the hope of his mercies it my sheet-anchor of eternal salvation, yet am I persuaded, that who|soever wittingly neglecteth and regardeth not to ••lear his conscience, he cannot have peace with God, nor a lively fai••h in his mercy▪ Conscience therefore moveth me, considering you were one of my family, and one of my houshold, of whom then I think I had a special care, and of all them which were within my house, which indeed ought to have been an example of godliness to all the rest of my care not only of good life, but also in promoting of God's word to the uttermost of their power, (but, alas! now when the trial doth separate the chas•• from the corn, how small a quantity it is, God knoweth, which the wind doth not blow away) this conscience, I say, doth move me to fear, lest th•• lightness of my family shall be laid to my charge for lack of more earnest and diligent instruction▪ which should have been done. But blessed be God who hath given me grace to see this my fault, an•• to lament it from the bottom of my heart, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 my departing hence.

THIS conscience doth also move me now to re|quire both you and my friend Dr. Harvey, to remember your promises made to me in times past, of the pure setting forth and preaching of God's word and his truth. These promises although you need not fear being charged with them by me before the world, yet look for none other (I exhort you as my friend) but to be charged with them at God's hand. This conscience and the love that I bear unto you, biddeth me now say unto you both in God's name, fear God, and love not the world: for God is able to cast both body and soul into hell|fire. When this wrath sh••ll be suddenly kindled, blessed are all they that put their trust in him. And the saying of St. John is true, "All that is in the world, as the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye••, and the pride of life, is not of the Father but of the world; and the world passeth away, and the lusts thereof, but he that doth, the will of God abideth for ever." If this gift of grace (which undoubted|ly is necessarily required unto eternal salvation) were truly and unfeignedly grafted and firmly esta|blished in men's hearts, they would not be so light, so suddenly to shrink from the maintenance and conffession of the truth as is now, alas! manif••s••ly seen of so many in these days. But here, perad|venture, you would know of me, what is the truth. Sir, God's word is the truth, as St. John saith, and that even the same that was heretofore. For al|though men do vary and change, as the moon, yet God's word is stable, and abideth one evermore:

and of Christ it is truly said, "Christ yesterday and to-day, the same is also for ever."

WHEN I was in office, all that were esteemed learned in God's word, agreed this to be a truth in God's word written, that the Common Prayer of the church should be had in the common tongue. You know I have conferred with many, and as as|sure you, I never found man, (so far as I do re|member) neither old nor young, gospeller nor papist, of what judgment soever he was, in this thing to be of a contrary opinion. If then it were a truth of God's word, think you that the altera|tion of the world can make it an untruth? If it cannot, why then do so many shrink from the con|fession and maintenance of this truth received once of us all? For what is it, I pray you, else to con|fess or deny Christ in this world, but to maintain the truth taught in God's word, nor for any worldly respect to shrink from the same? This one thing have I brought for an ensample; other things be in like case, which now particularly I need not rehearse. For he that will forsake knowingly, either for fear or gain of the world, any open truth of God's word, if he be con••••••ained. he will assuredly forsake God and all his truth, rather than he will endanger him|self to lose or to leave what he love••h better indeed than he doth God and the truth of his word.

I like very well your plain speaking, wherein you say I must either agree or die, and I think that you mean the bodily death, which is common both to good and bad. Sir, I know I must die, whether I agree or no. But what folly were it then to make such an agreement, by which I could never escape this death which is common to all, and also incur the guilt of death and eternal damnation? Lord grant that I may utterly detest this damnable agree|ment so long as I live. And because I dare say, you wrote this short earnest advertisement to me out of love, and I think verily, wishing me to live and not to die, therefore bearing you in my heart no less love in God, then you do me in the world, I say unto you in the word of the Lord, (and what I say to you, I say to all my friends and lovers of us in God) that if you do not confess and maintain to your power and knowledge that which is grounded upon God's word, but will either for f••ar or gain of the world shrink and play the apostate, indeed you shall die the death; you knew what I mean. And I beseech you all true friends and lovers in God, remember what I say, for this may be the last time peradventure that ever I shall write unto you.

From Bocardo, in Oxford, April 8, 1555.

NICHOLAS RIDLEY.

MR. GRINDAL (afterwards archbishop of Canter|bury) being in the time of exile in the city of Franc|fort, wrote to Dr. Ridley, then prisoner, a certain epistle, wherein first he lamenteth his captivity, ex|horting him withal to be constant. Secondly, He certifieth him of the English exiles being dispersed in Germany, and of the singular providence of God in stirring up the magistrates and rulers there to|wards them. Thirdly, He writeth to know his mind and will concerning the printing of his book against transubstantiation, and of other treatises and his disputations. Whereunto bishop Ridley an|swered him as follows.

LETTER IX. From Dr. RIDLEY, in Answer to Mr GRINDAL.

BLESSED be God our heavenly Father, which inclined your heart to have such a desire to write unto me, and blessed be he again which hath heard your request, and brought your letters safe unto my hands; and over all this I bless him thro' our Lord Jesus Christ, for the great comfort I have received by the same, of the knowledge of your state, and of other our dearly beloved brethren and countrymen in those parts beyond the sea.

DEARLY beloved brother Grindal, I say to you and all the rest of our brethren in Christ with you, rejoice in the Lord, and as you love me, and the others my reverend fathers and fellow-prisoners, (which undoubtedly are Gloria Christi) lament not our state, but I beseech you and them all to give to our heavenly Father, for his boundless mercies and unspeakable benefits, even in the midst of all our troubles given unto us, most hearty thanks. For know you, that as the weight of his cross hath increased upon us, so he hath not, nor doth he cease to multiply his mercies to strengthen

us; and I trust, yet by his grace I doubt nothing, but he will do so for Christ our master's sake even to the end. To hear that you and our other bre|thren do find favour and grace in your exile, with the magistrates, ministers, and citizens at Tigury, Francfort, and other places, it doth greatly comfort (I dare say) all here that do love Christ and his true word. I do assure you it warmed my heart, to hear you by chance name some, as Scory, Cox, &c. O that it had come in your mind to have said some|what also of Cheek, Turner, Leaver, Sampson, and Chambers, but I trust in God they be all well. And, sir, seeing you say, that there be in those parts with you of students and ministers so good a number, now therefore care not for us, otherwise than to wish that God's glory may be set forth by us. For whensoever God shall call us home (as we look daily for no other, but when it shall please God to say, Come) you, blessed be God, are enough through his aid, to light and set up again the lant|horn of his word in England. As concerning the copies you say you have with you, I wonder how they ever did or could find the way to come to you. My disputation, except you have that which I gathered myself after the disputation was done, I cannot thi••k you have i•• truly. If you have that, then you have therewithal the whole manner after which I was used in the disputation.

AS for the treatise in English against transub|stantiation, I cannot think it worth translating into Latin, nor would I have you translate any other of my writing, till you are certain how the Lord will dispose of me. And thus much concerning your letters. Now although I suppose you know a good part of our condition here, (for we are forth com|ing, even as when you departed, &c.) you shall understand that I was in the Tower about the space of two months a close prisoner, and after that had granted to me, without my labour, the liberty of the Tower, and so continued about half a year; and then, because I refused to allow the mass with my preference, I was shut up in prison again.

THE last Lent save one, it chanced by reason of the tumult stirred up in Kent, there were so many prisoners in the Tower, that my lord of Canterbu|ry, Mr. Latim••r, Mr. Bradford, and I, w••re put altogether in one prison, where we remained until almost Easter, and then we three, Canterbu|ry, Latimer, and I, were suddenly sent a littl•• before Easter to Oxford, and were suffered to have nothing with us, but what we carried upon us. About the Whitsuntide following were our dispu|tations at Oxford, after which all was taken from us, as pen, ink, &c. Our own servants were taken from us before, and every one had a strange man put to him, and each of us were appointed to be kept in separate places, as we are unto this day.

BLESSED be God, we three at the writing hereof were in good health, and (in God) of good cheer. We expected long ago to have been dispatched, for we were all three on one day condemned as heretics by Dr. Weston, (he being the head commissioner) within a day or two of our disputations, and ever since we remain here as we were by him left. The Lord's will be fulfilled in us, as I doubt not bu•• by his grace it shall be to his glory, and our eter|nal salvation, through Jesus Christ our Lord.

LIKEWISE the Lord hath hitherto preserved, above all our expectation, our dear brother, and in Christ's cause a strong champion, John Bradford. He is also condemned, and is already delivered to the secular power, and writs (as we have heard say) given out for his execution, and called in a|gain.

THUS the Lord, so long as his blessed pleasure is, preserveth whom he listeth, notwithstanding the wonderful raging of the world. Many (as we hear say) have valiantly suffered, confessing Christ's truth, and nothing yielding to the adversary, no, not for the fear or pains of death.

THE names of them which I knew, and have now suffered, are these; Farrar, bishop of St. David's; Hooper, bishop of Worcester; Rogers, your fellow prebend; Dr. Taylor, of Hadley; Mr. Sanders, and one Tomkins, a weaver; and now this last day, Mr. Cardmaker, with another, were burnt at Smithfield, in London, and many others in Essex and Kent, whose names are written in the book of life, whom yet I know not.

WEST, your old companion, and sometime my

officer, (alas!) hath relented, (as I have heard) but the Lord hath shortened his days, for soon after he died, and is gone. Grimbold was caught by the heel, and cast into the Marshalsea, but now is at liberty again; but I fear he escaped not with|out bowing his knee to Baal.

MY dear friend Thomas Ridley, of the Bull|head, in Cheap, which was to me the most faithful friend that I had in my trouble, is departed also unto God. My brother Shipside, that married my sister, hath been almost half a year in prison, for delivering (as he was accused) of certain things from me; but now, thanks be to God, he is at liberty again, but so that the bishop hath taken from him his park.

OF all us three prisoners in Oxford, I am kept ••ost strict, and with least liberty; either because 〈◊〉〈◊〉 man in whose house I am a prisoner is governed by his wife, who is a morose, superstitious old woman, and thinks she shall merit by having me very closely confined; for the man himself, whose name is Irish, is civil enough to all, but too much ruled by his wife. Though I never had a wife, yet from this daily usage I begin to understand how great and intolerable a burthen it is to have a bad one. The wise man says rightly▪ A good wise is the gift of God: and again, Blessed is the man who has a good wife. Or else I say the reason is, (for I know not from which) that he is so command|ed from the higher powers, which is what he pleads, when I complain of my hard usage.

AT Cambridge, (as I hear say) all the reforma|tions of students and statutes which were lately made, are now undone; and all things are reduced to their ancient confusion and old popish supersti|tion. All the heads of colleges who preached the sincere word of God, or favoured it, are turned out, and others of the popish faction put in their places; insomuch that I he•••• no one can be admit|ted a fellow of a college, that will not bow the knee to Baal. Nor do I wonder, since it is so throughout the whole realm of England, among archbishops, bishops, priests, and deacons, and the whole body of the clergy. And to tell you much naughty matter in few words, Popery every where reigns among us in its full and ancient force.

THE Lord be merciful, and for Christ's sake pardon us our old unkindness and unthankfulness: for when he poured upon us the gifts of his mani|fold graces and favours, alas! we did dot serve him, nor render thanks unto him according to the same. We pastors, many of us were too cold, and bore too much with the wicked world; our magistrates did abuse, to their own worldly gain, both God's gospel and the ministers of the same. The people in many places were unruly and unkind. Thus of every side and of every sort we have pro|voked God's anger and wrath to fall upon us: but blessed may he be that hath not suffered his to continue in those ways which so wholly have dis|pleased his sacred majesty, but hath awaked them by the fatherly correction of his own Son's cross, unto his glory and our endless salvation, through Jesus Christ our Lord.

MY daily prayer is (as God doth know) and by God's grace shall be so long as I live in this world, for you my dear brethren, that are fled out of your own country, because you will rather forsake all worldly things, than the truth of God word. It is even the same that I use to make to God for all those churches abroad through the world, which have forsaken the kingdom of Antichrist, and pro|fessed openly the purity of the gospel of Jesus Christ; that is, that God our eternal Father, for our Saviour Christ's sake, will daily increase in you the gracious gift of his heavenly Spirit, to the true setting forth of his glory and of his gospel, and make you agree brotherly in the truth of the same, that there arise no root of bitterness among you, that may affect that good seed which God hath sown in your hearts already, and finally that your life may be so pure and so honest, according to the rule of God's word, and according to that vocation whereunto we are called by the gospel of Christ our Saviour, that the honesty and purity of the same may provoke all that shall see or know it, to the love of your doctrine, and to love you for ho|nesty and virtue's sake, and so both in brotherly unity of your true doctrine, and also in the godly vir|tue of your honest life, to glorify our Father which is in heaven.

SEVERAL of our magistrates, viz. The chancel|lor of Winchester, earl of Arundel, and lord Paget, are ambassadors with cardinal Poole, be|yond

the seas, to make peace (as it is said) between the emperor, our realm, and the king of France. After whose return, and the delivery of the queen, which we daily expect, and have long expected, and which God, for the glory of his name, grant to be a safe and happy one, then shall we expect from the old enemy of our profession, soon to receive triumphant crowns in the Lord.

I humbly with my whole heart commend me to all your prayers, and first to your's, O most dear brother in Christ, and my most beloved Grindal, to your's most dear, and together with my beloved in the Lord, Cheek, Cox, Turner, Lever, Sampson, Chambers, and all our fellow-countrymen who live amongst you, and love our Lord Jesus Christ in truth. I commend also to you the reverend fathers in God, and my fellow-captives in the Lord, Tho|mas Cranmer, now most worthy of the name of a true great pastor and archbishop; and that old soldier of Christ, and true apostle of our English nation, Hugh Latimer. I here give myself the greater length in this letter, most dear brother, because after this I am persuaded they will be too short to trouble you.

Oxford.

NICHOLAS RIDLEY.

LETTER X. From Dr. RIDLEY to AUGUSTINE BERNHER.

BROTHER AUGUSTINE, I bless God with all my heart in his manifold merciful gifts, given unto our dear brethren in Christ, especially to our brother Rogers, whom it pleased him to set forth first, no doubt out of his gracious goodness and fa|therly favour towards him. And likewise blessed be God in the rest, as Hooper, Sanders, and Taylor, whom it hath pleased the Lord to set in the fore|front of the battle against his adversaries, and hath endued them all (so far as I can hear) to stand in the confession of his truth, and to be content in his cause, and for his gospel's sake to lose their lives. And evermore without end, blessed be even the same our heavenly Father, for our dear and intire|ly beloved brother Bradford, whom now the Lord (I perceive) calleth for; for I believe he will no longer vouchsafe him to abide among the adulter|ous and wicked generation of this world. I do not doubt but that he (for those gifts of grace which the Lord hath bestowed on him plen••eously) hath helped those which have gone before in their jour|ney, that is, hath animated them to keep the highway, and so to run, that at length they may receive the reward. The Lord be his comfort, whereof I do not doubt, and I thank God hea••tily that ever I was acquainted with him, and that I ever had such a one in my house. And yet again I bless God in our dear brother, and of this tim•• proto-martyr Rogers, that he was also one of my calling to be a prebendary preacher of Londo••. And now because Grindal is gone (the Lord I doubt not hath and knoweth wherein he will bestow him) I trust to God, it shall please him of his goodnes•• to strengthen me to make up the trinity out of Paul's church, to suffer for Christ whom God the Father hath anointed, the Holy Spirit doth bear witness unto, Paul and all the apostles preached. Thus fare you well, I had no paper, I was con|strained thus to write.

N. RIDLEY.

The LIFE of Bishop LATIMER, a famous Preach|er, and worthy Martyr of Christ.

NOW consequently after the life of bishop Ridley, followeth the life of that valiant champion, and old disciplined soldier of Christ, bishop Hugh Latimer, who was the son of one Hugh Latimer, of Thirkesson, in the county of Leicester, a husbandman in good repute, with whom he was brought up till he was about four years old: at which time his parents, (having him as then lest for their only son, with six daughters) seeing him to be of a ready, prompt, and sharp wit, purposed to train him up in erudition and knowledge of good literature; wherein he so pro|fited in the common schools of his own country, that at fourteen years of age he was sent to the uni|versity of C••mbridge: where, after some continu|ance in the exercise of other things, he gave himself

up to the study of such school divinity as the ignorance of that age would suffer.

ZEALOUS he was then in the popish religion, and therewith so scrupulous, as himself confessed, that being a priest, and using to say mass, he was so servile an observer of the Romish decrees, that he thought he had never sufficiently mingled his mas|sing wine with water▪ and moreover, that he should never be damned, if he were once a profes|sed friar, with divers of such superstitious fantasies. And in this blind zeal he was a very enemy to the professors of Christ's gospel; as both his oration made, when he commenced bachelor of divinity, against Melancthon, and also his other works did plainly declare. But especially in those days his popish zeal could in no case abide good Mr. Stafford, reader of the divinity lectures in Cambridge, most spitefully railing against him, and persuading the youth of Cambridge in no wise to believe him.

NOTWITHSTANDING, such was the goodness and merciful purpose of God, that when he saw his good time, by which he thought utterly to have defaced the professors of the gospel, and true church of Christ, he was at length himself by a member of the same prettily caught in the blessed net of God's word. For Mr. Thomas Bilney be|ing at that time a trier of Satan's subtilties, and a secret overwhelmer of Antichrist's kingdom, seeing Mr. Latimer to have a zeal in his way, (although not according to knowledge) was stricken with a brotherly pity towards him, and began to consider by what means he might win this zealous ignorant brother to the true knowledge of Christ. Wherefore, after a short time, he came to Mr. Latimer's study, and desired him to hear him make his confession, which he willingly did; and by hearing thereof, he was, by the good Spirit of God, so touched, that thereupon he forsook the study of the school-doctors, and other such fopperies, and became an earnest student in true divinity, as he himself, as well in his conference with bishop Ridley, as also in his first sermon made upon the Pater Noster, doth confess. So that whereas before he was an enemy, and almost a persecutor of Christ, he was now a zealous seeker after him, changing his old manner of cavilling and railing, into a diligent kind of conferring, both with Mr. Bilney and o|thers, and came also to Mr. Stafford before he died, and desired him to forgive him.

AFTER his own conversion, he was not satisfied without endeavouring that of others, and like a true disciple of the blessed Samaritan, pitied the misery of others, and therefore became both a pub|lic preacher, and also a private instructor to the rest of his brethren within the university, by the space of three years, spending his time partly in the Latin tongue among the learned, and partly amongst the simple people in his natural and vulgar lan|guage. Howbeit, as Satan never sleepeth when he seeth his kingdom begin to decay, so likewise now, seeing that this worthy member of Christ would be a terrible shaker thereof, he raised up his impious 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to molest and trouble him.

AMONGST these there was an Augustine friar, who took occasion upon certain sermons that Mr. Latimer made about Christmas, 1529, as well in the church of St. Edward, as also in St. Augustine's, within the university of Cambridge, to inveigh against him, for that Mr. Latimer in the said ser|mons (alluding to the common usage of the season) gave the people certain cards out of the 5th, 6th, and 7th chapters of St. Matthew, whereupon they might, not only then, but always else occupy their time. For the chief triumph in the cards he limited the heart, as the principal thing they should serve God withal, whereby he quite overthrew all hypo|crital and external ceremonies, not tending to the necessary furtherance of God's holy word and sacraments. For the better attaining hereof, he wished the scriptures to be in English, whereby the common people might the better learn their duty, as well to God as their neighbours.

THE handling of this matter was so apt for the time, and so pleasantly applied by him, that it not only declared the wit and dexterity of the preacher, but also wrought in the hearers much fruit, to the overthrow of popish superstition. and setting up of perfect religion.

THIS was upon the Sunday before Christmas|day; on which day coming to the church, and causing the bell to be tolled to a sermon, he entered

into the pulpit, taking for his text the words of the gospel aforesaid, read in the church that day, "Who art thou?" &c. In delivering which cards (as is aforesaid) he made the heart to be Triumph, exhorting and inviting all men thereby to serve the Lord with inward heart and true affection, and not with outward ceremonies: adding moreover, to the praise of that Triumph, that though it were ever so small, yet it would take up the best court card beside in the bunch, yea, though it were the king of clubs, &c. meaning thereby how the Lord would be worshipped and served in simplicity of heart and verity, wherein consisteth true christian religion, and not in the outward deeds of the letter only, or in the glittering shew of man's traditions, or pardons, pilgrimages, ceremonies, vows, de|votions, voluntary works, and works of superero|gation, foundations, oblations, the pope's supremacy, &c. so that all these either were needless, where the other is present; or else were of small estimation, in comparison of the other. The tenor and effect of these his sermons, so far as they could come to our hands, here followeth.

The Tenor and Effect of certain Sermons, made by Mr. LATIMER in Cambridge, about the Year of our Lord, 1529.

TU quis es? Which words are as much as to say in English, "Who art thou?" These be the words of the Pharisees, which were sent by the Jews unto St. John Baptist in the wilderness, to have knowledge of him who he was; which words they spake unto him of an evil intent, thinking that he would have taken on him to be Christ, and so they would have had him done by their good wills, because they knew that he was more carnal and given to their laws, than Christ indeed should be, as they perceived by their old prophesies: and also, because they marvelled much at his great doctrine, preaching, and baptizing, they were in doubt whe••ther he was Christ or not: wherefore they said unto him, "Who art thou?" Then answered St. John, and confessed that he was not Christ. Now here is to be noted the great and prudent answer of St. John Baptist unto the Pharisees, that when they required of him who he was, he would not directly answer of himself, what he was himself; but he said he was not Christ, by which saying he thought to put the Jews and Pharisees out of their false opinion, and belief towards him, in that they would have had him to exercise the office of Christ, and so declared further unto them of Christ, saying, "He is in the midst of you, and amongst you, whom ye know not, the latchet of whose shoe I am not worthy to unloose." By this you may perceive that St. John spake much in the praise of his master Christ, professing himself to be in no wise like unto him. So likewise it shall be necessary unto all men and women of this world, not to ascribe unto themselves any goodness of themselves, but all unto our Lord God, as shall appear hereafter, when this question aforesaid [Who art thou?] shall be moved unto them: not as the Pharisees did unto St. John, of an evil purpose, but of a good and simple mind, as may appear hereafter.

NOW then, according to the preacher's mind, let every man and woman, of a good and simple mind, contrary to the Pharisees' intent, ask this question, Who art thou? This question must be moved to themselves, what they be of themselves, on this fashion, What art thou of thy only and natu|ral generation between father and mother, when thou camest into the world? What substance, what virtue, what goodness art thou of thyself? Which question if thou rehearse oftentimes to thyself, thou shalt well perceive and understand how thou shalt make answer to it: which must be made in this wise; I am of myself, and by myself, coming from my natural father and mother, the child of the anger and indignation of God, the true inheritor of hell, a lump of sin, and working nothing of myself, but all towards hell, except I have better help of ano|ther, than I have of myself. Now we may see in what state we enter into this world, that we be of ourselves the true and just inheritors of hell, the children of the ire and indignation of Christ, work|ing all towards hell, whereby we deserve of our|selves perpetual damnation, by the right judgment of God, and the true claim of ourselves: which unthrifty state that we were born unto is come unto us for our own deserts, as proveth well this exam|ple following.

LET it be admitted for the probation of this,

that it might please the king's grace now being, to accept into his favour a mean man, of simple de|gree and birth, not born to any possession; whom the king's grace favoureth, not because this per|son, hath of hi••self deserved any such favour, but that the king casteth his favour unto him of his own mere motion and fancy: and because the king's grace will more declare his favour unto him, he giveth unto this said man a thousand pounds in lands, to him and his heirs, on this condition, that he shall take upon him to be the chief captain and defender of his town of Calais, and to be true and faithful to him in the custody of the same, a|gainst the Frenchmen especially above all other enemies.

THIS man taketh on him this charge, promising this fidelity thereunto; it chanceth in process of time, that by the singular acquaintance and frequent familiarity of this captain with the Frenchmen, these Frenchmen give unto the said captain of Calais a great sum of money, so that he will be content 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and agreeable, that they may enter into the said town of Calais by force of arms, and so thereby possess the same unto the crown of France. Upon this agreement the Frenchmen do invade the said town of Calais, only by the negligence of this captain.

NOW the king's grace hearing of this invasion, cometh with a great puissance to defend this his said town, and so by good policy of war overcometh the said Frenchmen, and entereth again into his said town of Calais. Then he being desirous to know how these enemies of his came thither, he maketh strict search and inquiry by whom this treason was conspired; by this sear••h it was known and found his own captain to be the very author and the beginner of the betraying of it. The king, seeing the great infidelity of this person, discharg|eth this man of his office, and taketh from him and his heirs this thousand pounds possessions. Think you not that the king doth use justice unto him, and all his posterity and heirs? Yes truly; the said captain cannot deny himself but that he had true justice, considering how unfaithfully he bahav|ed himself to his prince, contrary to his fidelity and promise: so likewise it was of our first father A|dam. He had given unto him the spirit and science of knowledge to work all goodness therewith; this said spirit was not given only to him, but unto all his heirs and posterity. He had also delivered him the town of Calais, that is to say, paradise on earth, the most strong and fairest town in the world, to be in his custody: he nevertheless, by the instigation of these Frenchmen, that is, the temptation of the fiend, did obey unto their desire, and so he broke his promise and fidelity, the commandment of the everlasting King his master, in eating the apple by him prohibited.

NOW then, the king seeing this great treason in his captain, dispossessed him of the thousand pounds of lands, that is to say, from everlasting life in glory, and all his heirs and posterity: for likewise, as he had the spirit of science and knowledge for him and his heirs; so in like manner when he lost the same, his heirs also lost it by him, and in him. So now this example proveth, that by our father Adam we had once in him the very inheritance of everlasting joy; and by him, and in him again we lost the same.

THE heirs of the captain of Calais could not by any manner of claim ask of the king the right and title of their father in the thousand pounds posses|sions, by reason the king might answer and say unto them, that although their father deserved not of himself to enjoy so great possessions, yet he deserved by himself to lose them, and greater, committing so high treason as he did, against his prince's com|mandments; whereby he had no wrong to lose his title, but was unworthy to have the same, and had therein true justce; let not you think which be his heirs, that if he had justice to lose his possessions, you have wrong to lose the same. In the same manner it may be answered unto all men and wo|men now in being, that if our father Adam had true justice to be excluded from his possessions of ev••rlasting glory in paradise, let us not think the contrary that be his heirs, but that we have no wrong in losing also the same; yea, we have true justice and right. Then in what miserable estate we be, that of the right and just title of our own deserts have lost the everlasting joy, and claim of ourselves, to be true inheritors of hell? For he that committeth deadly sin willingly, bindeth him|self

to be an inheritor of everlasting pain: and so did our fore-father Adam willingly eat of the ap|ple forbidden. Wherefore he was cast out of the everlasting joy in paradise, into this corrupt world amongst all vileness, whereby of himself he was not worthy to do any thing laudable or pleasant to God, evermore bound to corrupt affections and beastly appetites, transformed into the uncleanest and most variable nature that was made under hea|ven, of whose seed and disposition all the world is lineally descended; insomuch that this evil nature is so much diffused and shed from one into another, that at this day there is no man nor woman living, that can of themselves wash away this abominable vileness: and so we must needs grant of ourselves to be in like displeasure unto God, as our father Adam was; by reason hereof, as I said, we be of ourselves the very children of the indignation and vengeance of God, the true inheritors of hell, and working all towards hell, which is the answer to this question, made to every man and woman by themselves, Who art thou?

AND now the world standing in this damnable state, cometh in the occasion of the incarnation of Christ; the Father in heaven perceiving the frail nature of man, that he by himself and of himself could do no|thing for himself, by his prudent wisdom sent down the second Person in the Trinity, his Son Jesus Christ, to declare unto man his pleasure and commandment: and so at the Father's will Christ took on him human nature, being willing to deliver man out of this miserable 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and was content to suffer cruel passion in she••ding his blood for all mankind, and so left be••ind for our safeguard, laws and ordinances, to keep us always in the right path unto everlasting lif••, as the gospels, the sacra|ments, the commandments, &c. which if we do keep and observe according to our profession, we shall answer better unto this question, [Who art thou?] than we did before: for before thou didst enter into the sacrament of baptism, thou wert bu•• a natural man or a natural woman; as I might say, a man, a woman; but after thou takest on thee Christ's religion, thou hast a longer name; for then thou art a christian man, a christian woman. Now 〈◊〉〈◊〉 seeing thou art a christian man, what shall be the answer of this question, Who art thou▪

THE answer of this question is, when I ask it unto myself, I must say that I am a christian man, a christian woman, the child of everlasting joy, thro•• the merits of the bitter passion of Christ. This is a joyful answer. Here we may see how much we be bound, and indebted unto God, that hath revi|ved us from death to life, and saved us that were damned: which great benefit we cannot well con|sider, unless we do remember what we were of ourselves before we meddled with him or his laws: and the more we know our feeble nature, and set less by it, the more we shall conceive and know in our hearts what God hath done for us, and the more we know what God hath done for us, the less we shall set by ourselves, and the more we shall love and please God; so that in no condition we shall either know ourselves or God, except we do utterly confess ourselves to be mere vileness and corruption. Well, now it is come unto this point, that we be christian men, christian women, I pray you, what doth Christ require of a christian man, or of a chris|tian woman? Christ requireth nothing else of a christian man or woman, but that they will observe his rule. For likewise as he is a good Augustine friar that keepeth well St. Augustine's rule, so is he a good christian man that keepeth well Christ's rule.

NOW then what is Christ's rule? Christ's rule consisteth in many things, as in the commandments, and the works of mercy, and so forth. And be|cause I cannot declare Christ's rule unto you at one time, as it ought to be done, I will apply myself according to your custom at this time of Christmas; I will, as I said, declare unto you Christ's rule, but that shall be in Christ's cards. And where you are wont to celebrate Christmas in playing cards, I intend by God's grace to deal unto you Christ's cards, where|in you shall perceive Christ's rule. The game that we will play at, shall be called the Triumph, which if it be well played at, he that dealeth shall win; the players shall likewise win, and the standers by and lookers on shall do the same; insomuch that there is no man that is willing to play at this Triumph with these cards, but they shall be all winners, and no losers.

LET therefore every christian man and woman play at these cards, that they may have and obtain the Triumph; you must mark also that the Tri|umph

must apply to fetch home unto him all the other cards, whatsoever suit they be of. Now then take you this first card, which must appear and be shewed unto you as followeth. You have heard what was spoken to men of the old law, Thou shalt not kill; whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of judgment. But I say unto you of the new law, saith Christ, that whosoever is angry with his neighbour, shall be in danger of judgment; and whosoever shall say unto his neighbour Racha, that is to say, Brainless, or any other like word of re|buking, shall be in danger of a council; and who|soever shall say unto his neighbour, Fool, shall be in danger of hell-fire. This card was made and spoken by Christ, as appeareth in the fifth chapter of St. Matthew.

NOW it must be noted, that whosoever shall play with this card, must first before they play with it, know the strength and virtue of the same; where|fore you must well note and mark the terms how they be spoken, and to what purpose: let us there|fore read it once or twice, that we may be the bet|ter acquainted with it.

NOW behold and see, this card is divided into four parts: The first part is one of the command|ments that was given unto Moses in the old law, before the coming of Christ, which commandment we of the new law are bound to obse••ve and keep, and is one of our commandments. The other three parts spoken by Christ, be nothing else but expositions to the first part of this commandment: for in very effect of all these four parts be but one commandment, that is to say, "Thou shalt not kill." Yet nevertheless, the three last parts do shew unto thee how many ways thou may'st kill thy neighbour, contrary to this commandment: yet for all Christ's exposition, in the three last parts of this card, the terms be not open enough to thee that dost read and hear them spoken. No doubt the Jews understood Christ well enough when he spoke to them in their own natural terms and tongue: wherefore seeing that these terms were natural terms of the Jews, it shall be necessary to expound them, and compare them unto some like terms of our natural speech, that we in like manner may understand Christ as well as the Jews did. We will begin with the first part of this card, and then after with the other three parts: you must therefore understand that the Jews and the Pharisees of the old law, to whom this first part, this commandment, "Thou shalt not kill," was spoken, thought it sufficient and enough for their discharge not to kill with any material weapon, as sword, dagger, or with any such weapon, and they thought it no great fault whatsoever they said or did by their neighbour, so that they did not harm or meddle with their cor|poral bodies, which was a false opinion in them, as prov•• well the three last other sentences following the first part of this card.

NOW as concerning the three other sentences, you must note and take heed what difference is between these three manner of offences: 1. To be angry with your neighbour. 2. To call your neighbour brainless, or any such word of disdain. 3. Or to call your neighbour fool: whether these three man|ner of offences be of themselves more grievous one than the other, it is to be opened unto you. Truly, as they be of themselves divers offences, so they kill diversly one more than the other, as you shall perceive by the first of these three, and so forth: A man which conceiveth against his neighbour or brother, anger or wrath in his mind, by some man|ner of occasion given unto him, and although he be angry in his mind against his said neighbour, he will peradventure express his anger by no manner of sign, either in word or deed; yet nevertheless he offe••••••th against God, and breaketh this command|ment in killing his own soul; and is therefore in danger of judgment.

NOW to the second part of these three; That man that is moved with anger against his neighbour, and in his anger calleth his neighbour brainless, or some other like word of displeasure; as a man might say in a fury, I shall handle thee well enough, which words and countenances do more represent and declare anger to be in this man, than in him that was but angry, and spake no manner of word, nor shewed any countenance to declare his anger: wherefore as he that so declareth his anger either by word or countenance, offendeth more against God, so he both killeth his own soul, and doth what in him is to kill his neighbour's soul in moving him to anger, wherein he is faulty himself, and so this man is in danger of a council.

NOW to the third offence, and last of the three; That ma•• that calleth his neighbour fool, doth more de••la•••• his angry mind towards him, than he that calleth his neighbour brainless, or any such word moving anger: but to call a man a fool, that word representeth more envy in a man than brainless doth. Wherefore he doth most offend, because he doth most earnestly with such words express his anger, and so he is in danger of hell-fire: wherefore you must understand now these three parts of this card be three offences, and that one is more grievous to God than the other, and that one killeth more the soul of man than the other.

NOW peradventure there will be some that will marvel that Christ did not declare this command|ment by some greater faults of anger, than by these which seem but small faults, as to be angry and speak nothing of it, to declare it and to call a man brainless, and to call his neighbour fool; truly these be the smallest, and the least faults that belong to anger, or to killing in anger. Therefore beware how you offend in any kind of anger: seeing that the smallest be damnable to offend in, see that you offend not in the greatest. For Christ thought, if he might bring you from the smallest manner of faults, and give you warning to avoid the least, he reckoned you would not offend in the greatest and worst, as to call your neighbour thief, whoreson, whore, drab, &c. into more blasphemous names, which offences must needs have punishment in hell, considering how that Christ hath appointed these three small faults, to have three degrees of punish|ment in hell, as appeareth by these three terms, judgment, council, and hell-fire; these three terms do signify nothing else but three divers punishments in hell, according to the offences. Judgment is less in degree than council, therefore it signifieth a lesser pain in hell, and it is ordained for him that is angry in his mind with his neighbour, and doth express his malice neither by word nor countenance. Council is a less degree in hell than hell-fire, and is a greater degree in hell than judgment, and it is ordained for him that calleth his neighbour brain|less, or any such word that declareth his anger and malice: wherefore it is more pain than judgment. Hell-fire is more pain in hell, than council or judg|ment, and it is ordained for him that calleth his neighbour fool, by reason that in calling his neigh|bour fool, he declareth more his malice, in that it is an earnest word of anger. Wherefore hell-fire is appointed for it, that is, the most pain of the three punishments.

NOW you have heard, that to these divers offences of ire and killing, punishments are appointed ac|cording to their degrees; for observe, as the offence is, so shall the pain be: if the offence be great, the pain shall be accordingly: if it be less, there shall be less pain for it. I would not now that you should think because that here are but three de|grees of punishment spoke of, that there be no more in hell: no doubt Christ spake of no more here but of these three degrees of punishment, thinking they were sufficient enough for example, whereby we might understand, that there are as many pains as there are offences: and so by these three offences, and these three punishments, all other offences and punishments may be compared with each other: yet I would satisfy your minds farther in these three terms, judgment, council, and hell-fire. Where you might say, what was the cause that Christ declared more the pains of hell by these terms than by any other terms? I told you before that he knew well to whom he spake them; these' terms were natural, and well known among the Jews and the Pharisees. Wherefore Christ taught them with their own terms, to the intent they might understand the better his doctrine: and these terms may be likened unto three terms which we have common and usual amongst us, that is to say, the sessions of inquirance, the sessions of deli|rance, and the execution day: sessions of inquirance is like unto judgment; for when sessions of inquiry is, then the judges cause twelve men to give ver|dict of the felon's crime, whereby he shall be judged to be indicted: sessions of deliverance is much like council; for at sessions of deliverance the judges go among themselves to council, to determine sentence against the felon. Execution day is to be com|pared to hell-fire: for the Jews had a place of exe|cution amongst themselves named Hell-fire: and surely when a man goeth to his death, it is the greatest pain in this world: wherefore you may see that there are degrees in these our terms, as there be in those terms. These evil disposed affections and sensualities in us are always contrary to the rule

of our salvation. What shall we do now or imagine to thrust down these Turks, and to subdue them? It is a great ignominy and shame for a christian man to be bond and subject unto a Turk: ••ay, it shall not be so, we will first cast a trump in their way, and play with them at cards who shall have the better; let us play therefore on this card. When|soever it shall happen these foul passions and Turks to rise in our stomachs against our brother or neigh|bour, either for unkind words, injuries, or wrongs, which they have done unto us, contrary to our mind, straightway let us call unto our remem|brance, and speak this question unto ourselves, Who art thou? The answer is, I am a christian man. Then further we must say to ourselves▪ What re|quireth Christ of a christian man? Now turn up your trump, your heart, (hear is trump, as I said before) and cast your trump, your heart, on this card, and upon this card you shall learn what Christ requireth of a christian man, not to be angry, nor moved to ire against his neighbour, in mind, coun|tenance, nor otherwise by word or deed. Then take up this card with your heart, and lay them together; that done, you have won the game of the Turk, whereby you have defaced and over|come by true and lawful play: but, alas, for pity, the Rhodes are won and overcome by these false Turks, the strong castle faith is decayed, so that I fear it is almost impossible to win it again.

THE great occasion of the loss of this Rhodes is, by reason that christian men do so daily kill their own nation, that the very true number of Christians is decayed: which murder and killing one of ano••ther is increased, especially two ways, to the utter undoing of Christendom, that is to say, by example and silence. By example thus: When the father, the mother, the lord, the lady, the master, the dame, be themselves overcome with these Turks, they be continual swearers, adulterers, disposers to malice, never in patience, and so forth in all other vices: think you not when the father, the mother, the master, the dame, be disposed unto vice or impa|tience, but that their children and servants shall incline and be disposed to the same? No doubt as the child shall take disposition natural of his father and mother, so shall the servants apply unto the vices of their masters and dames; if the head 〈◊〉〈◊〉 false in their faculties and crafts, it is no marvel if the children, servants, and apprentices do join there|in. This is a great and shameful manner of killing christian men, that the fathers, the mothers, the masters, and the dames, shall not only kill them|selves, but all their's, and all that belongeth unto them, and so this way is a great number of christian lineage murdered and spoiled. The second manner of killing is silence. By silence also is a great num|ber of christian men slain; which is on this fashion: although the father and mother, master and dame, of themselves be well disposed to live after the law of God, yet they may kill their children and ser|vants in suffering them to do evil before their own faces, and do not use correction according to their offences; the master seeth his servant or apprentice take more of his neighbour, than the king's laws, or the order of his faculty doth admit him, or he suffered him to take more of his neighbour than he himself would be content to pay if he were in like condition: thus doing, I say, such men kill willing|ly their children and servants, and shall go to hell for so doing; but also their fathers and mothers, masters and dames, shall bear them company for so suffering. Wherefore I exhort all true christian men and women to give good example unto your children and servants, and suffer not them by silence to offend: every man must be in his own house, according to St. Augustine's mind, a bishop, not only giving good example, but teaching according to it, rebuke and punish vice, not suffering your children and servants to forget the laws of God: you ought to see them have their belief, to know the commandments of God, to keep their holy days, and not lose their time in idleness; if they do so, you shall all suffer pain for it, if God be true of his saying, as there is no doubt thereof: and so you may perceive that there be many that break this card, "Thou shalt not kill," and playeth therewith oftentimes, at the blind trump, whereby they be no winners, but great losers; but who be those now-a-days that can clear themselves of these manifest murders used to their children and servants? I think not the contrary, but that many have the•••• two ways slain their own children unto their damnation, were not the great mercy of God ready to help them when they repent therefore.

WHEREFORE considering that we be so prone and ready to continue in sin, le•• us cast ourselves down

with Mary Magdalen, and the more we bow down with her towar••s Christ's feet, the more we shall be afraid to rise again in sin; and the more we know and submit ourselves, the more we shall be forgiven, and the less we know and submit ourselves, the less we shall be forgiven, as appeareth by the following example.

WHEN Christ was in the world amongst the Jews and Pharisees, there was a great Pharisee whose name was Simon; this Pharisee desired Christ on a time to dine with him, thinking with himself that he was able and worthy to give Christ a dinner: Christ refused not his dinner but came unto him. In time of their dinner, there happened to come into the house a great sinner named Mary Magda|len. As soon as she perceived Christ, she cast her|self down, and called unto her remembrance what she was of herself, and how greatly she had offend|ed God, whereby she conceived in Christ great love, and so came near unto him, and washed his feet with bitter tears, and shed upon his head precious ointment, thinking that by him she should be de|livered from her sins; this great and proud Phari|see seeing that Christ did accept her oblation in the best part, had great indignation against this wo|man, and said to himself, If this man Christ were a holy prophet, as he is taken for, he would not suffer this sinner to come so nigh him. Christ under|standing the naughty mind of this Pharisee, said to him, Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee: say what you please (quoth the Pharisee). Then, said Christ, I pray thee tell me this: if there be a man to whom there is owing twenty pounds by one, and forty by another, this man to whom this money is owing, perceiving these two men be not able to pay him, he forgiveth them both. Which of these two debtors ought to love this man most? The Phari|see said, That man ought to love him best that had most forgiven him: Likewise, said Christ, it is by this woman. She hath loved me most, therefore most is forgiven her; she hath known her sins most, whereby she hath most loved me; and thou hast least loved me, because thou hast least known thy sins; therefore because thou hast least known thine offences, thou art least forgiven. So this proud Pharisee had an answer to allay his pride: and think you not but there is amongst us a great number of these proud Pharisees, which think themselves worthy to bid Christ to dinner, who will perk and presume to fit by Christ in the church, and have dis|dain of this poor woman Magdalen, their poor neigh|bour with an high disdainful and solemn counte|nance; and being always desirous to climb highest in the church, reckoning themselves more worthy to sit there than another, I fear me poor Magdal••n under the board and in the belfry, hath more for|given of Christ than they have: for it is like that these Pharisees do less know themselves and their offences, whereby they less love God, and so they be less forgiven.

I would to God we would follow this example, and be like unto Magdalen. I doubt not but we be all Magdalens in falling into sin, and in offend|ing: but we be not again Magdalens in knowing ourselves, and in rising from sin. If we be true Magdalens, we should be as willing to forsake our sin, and rise from sin, as we were willing to com|mit sin, and to continue in it; and we then should know ourselves best, and make more perfect an|swer than ever we did, unto this question, Who art thou? To which we might answer, that we be true christian men and women: and then, I say, you should understand and know how you ought to play at this card, "Thou shalt not kill," with|out any interruption of your deadly enemies the Turks, and so Triumph at the last by winning everlasting life in glory, Amen.

IT would require a long discourse to declare what a stir there was in Cambridge upon this preaching of Mr. Latimer. Belike Satan began to feel him|self and his kingdom to be touched too near, and therefore thought it time to look about him, and to make out his men of arms.

FIRST came out the prior of the Black-Friars, called Buckneham, who thinking to make a great hand against Mr. Latimer, about the same time of Christmas, when Mr. Latimer brought forth his cards to deface belike the doings of the other, brought out his Christmas dice, casting there to his audience Cinque and Quarter, meaning by the Cinque five places in the New Testament, and the four doctors by the Quarter; by which his Cinque and Quarter, he would prove that it was not expe|dient for the scriptures to be in English, lest the

ignorant and vulgar sort, through the occasion thereof, might aptly be brought in danger to leave their vocation, or else to run into some inconve|nience; as for example:

THE ploughman, when he heareth this in the gos|pel, "No man that layeth his hand on the plough and looketh back, is meet for the kingdom of God;" might, peradventure hearing this, cease from his plough. Likewise the baker, when he hears that a little leaven corrupteth a whole lump of dough, may perchance leave our bread unleaven|ed, and so our bodies shall be unseasoned. Also the simple man, when he heareth in the gospel, "If thine eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee," may make himself blind, and so fill the world with beggars. These, with some others, this clerkly friar brought out, to the number of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, to prove his purpose.

MR. Latimer hearing this sermon of Dr. Buck|••••ham, came again in the afternoon, or shortly after, to the church to answer the friar, where re|sorted to him a great multitude, as well of the university as of the town, both doctors and other graduates, with great expectation to hear what he could say: among whom also, directly in the face of Latimer, underneath the pulpit, sat Buckne|ham the aforesaid friar, prior of the Black-Friars, with his black friar's cowl about his shoulders.

THEN Mr. Latimer first repeating the friarly reasons of Dr. Buckneham, whereby he would prove it a dangerous thing for the vulgar people to have the scriptures in the vulgar tongue, so refuted the friar, so answered to his objections, so dallied with his bald reason of the ploughman looking back, and of the baker leaving his bread unleaven|ed, that the vanity of the friar might to all men appear, well proving and declaring to the people, that there was no such fear••nor danger for the scriptures to be in English, as the friar pretended; at least requiring this, that the scriptures might be so long in the English tongue, till Englishmen were so mad, that either the ploughman durst not look back, or the baker should leave his bread unleaven|ed. And proceeding moreover in his sermon, he began to discourse of the mystical speeches and figurative phrases of the scriptures; which phrases he said were not so diffuse and difficult, as they were common in the scriptures, and in the Hebrew tongue are commonly used and known: and not only in the Hebrew tongue, but also every speech (saith he) hath its like metaphors and figurative significations, so common and vulgar to all men, that the very painters do paint them on walls and on houses.

AS for example (saith he, looking towards the fri|ar that sat over against him) when they paint a fox preaching out of a friar's cowl, none is so mad to take this to be a fox that preacheth, but know well enough the meaning of the matter; which is to paint out unto us, what hypocrisy, crafts, and sub|tle dissimulation lieth hid many times in these friars cowl's, willing us thereby to beware of them. ln fine friar Buckneham was so dashed with this sermon, that he durst never after peep out of the pulpit against Mr. Latimer.

BESIDES this Buckneham, there was also another railing friar, not of the same coat, but of the same note and faction, a gray friar and a doctor, an out|landish man, named Dr. Venetus, who likewise in his brawling sermons railed and raged against Mr. Latimer, calling him a mad and brainless man, &c. To whom Mr. Latimer answering again, taketh for his ground the words of our Saviour Christ, Matt. v. Thou shalt not kill, &c. But I say unto you, Whosoever is angry with his neighbour shall be in danger of judgment; and whosoever shall say unto his neighbour Racha, (or any other like words of rebuking, as brainless) shall be in danger of council: and whosoever shall say to his neighbour, Fool, shall be in danger of hell-fire.

IN discussing of which place, first he divideth the offence of killing into three branches. One to be with hand, the other with heart, the third with word. With hand, when we use any weapon drawn, to spill the life of our neighbour. With heart, when we be angry with him. With word, when in word or countenance we disdainfully re|buke our neighbour, or despitefully revile him. Words of rebuking are, when we speak any op|probrious or unseemly thing, whereby the patience of our neighbour is moved, as when we call him

ma•••• (said he) or brainless, or such like, which are guil•••• ••o council: words of spite, or reviling are, when we call him fool; which Christ saith is guilty of hell-fire.

THUS Mr. Latimer in handling and trimming this matter, after that with the weight of Christ's words, and the explaining of the same, he had suf|ficiently borne the friar clean down, then he turned to the fifth chapter of the book of Wisdom. Out of which chapter he declared to the audience, how the true servants and preachers of God in this world, commonly are scorned and reviled by the proud enemies of God's word, which account them here as mad-men, fools, brainless, and drunken: so did they (said he) in the scripture call them which most purely preached, and set forth the glory of God's word. But (said he) what will be the end of these jolly fellows, or what will they say in the end? We madmen, we mad fools, we, we our|selves, &c. And that he will be their end except they repent. And thus ending his sermon, he so confounded the poor friar, that he drove him not only out of countenance, but also clean out of the university.

BUT what should I here stand deciphering the names of his adversaries, when whole swarms of friars and doctors flocked against him on every side, almost through the whole university, preach|ing and likewise barking against him? Amongst whom was Dr. Watson, master of Christ's col|lege, whose scholar Latimer had been before, Dr. Notaries, master of Clare-hall, Dr. Philo, master of Michael-house, Dr. Metcalfe, master St. John's, Dr. Blithe, of the King's-hall, Dr. Bullock, mas|ter of the Queen's college, Dr. Cliffe, of Clement-house, Dr. Donnes, of Jesus college, Dr. Psalms, master of St. Nicholas Hostel, Bain, Rud, and Greenwood, bachelors of divinity, all three of St. John's college; also Brickenden, bachelor of divi|nity, of the same house, and scholar sometime to the said Latimer. In short, almost as many as were heads there of houses, so many enemies did this worthy standard-bearer of Christ's gospel sus|tain.

THEN came at last Dr. West, bishop of Ely, who preached against Mr. Latimer at Barwell-ab|bey, forbad him within the churches of that univer|sity to preach any more. Notwithstanding, so the Lord provided, that Dr. Barnes, prior of the Augustine friars, did license Mr. Latimer to preach in his church of the Augustines, and he himself preached at the next church, called St. Edward's church, which was the first sermon of the gospel that Dr. Barnes preached, being Sunday and Christmas Eve. Whereupon certain articles were gathered out of his sermon, and were commenced against him by Mr. Tyrell, fellow of King's-hall, and so by the vice-chancellor presented to the cardinal.

THUS Mr. Latimer (as you have heard) being baited by the friars, doctors, and masters of that university, about the year aforesaid, 1529, not|withstanding the malice of these malignant adversa|ries, continued yet in Cambridge preaching for the space of three years together, with favour and applause of the godly, also with such admiration of his enemies that heard him, that the bishop him|self coming in, and hearing his gift, wished himself to have the like, and was compelled to commend him upon the same.

SO Mr. Latimer and Mr. Bilney, after this, continued in Cambridge for some time, where they so frequently conferred together, that the field wherein they usually walked, was for a long time after called, The heretics' hill.

THE society of these two, as it was much noted by many in that university, so it was full of many good examples, to all such as would follow them, both in visiting the prisoners, relieving the needy, and in feeding the hungry. Mr. Latimer maketh mention of a certain history which happened about this time in Cambridge, between them both and a certain woman then prisoner in the castle or tower of Cambridge, which I thought here worthy to be mentioned. The story is this: It so happened, that after Mr. Latimer had been so acquainted with the aforesaid Mr. Bilney, he went with him to visit the prisoners in the tower of Cambridge, and being there, among other prisoners, there was a woman who was accused that she had killed her own child, which act she plainly and stedfastly de|nied. Whereby it gave them an occasion to search

for the matter, and at length they found that her husband loved her not, and therefore sought all means he could to make her away. The matter was thus:

A child of her's had been sick a whole year, and at length died in harvest time, as it were in a con|sumption: which when it was gone, she went to have her neighbours to help her at the burial, but all were abroad in the harvest, whereby she was enforced with heaviness of heart, alone to prepare the child for the burial. Her husband coming home, and not loving her, accused her of murder|ing the child. This was the cause of her trouble; and Mr. Latimer, by earnest inquisition, of con|science thought the woman not guilty. Then im|mediately after he was called to preach before king Henry the eighth at Windsor, where after his ser|mon the king's majesty sent for him, and talked familiarly with him. At which time Mr. Latimer, finding an opportunity, kneeled down, opened the whole matter to the king, and desired her pardon, which the king most graciously granted, and gave it to him at his return homeward. In the mean time the woman was delivered of a child in the prison, whose godfather was Mr. Latimer, and Mrs. Cheek godmother. But all the while he would not tell her of the pardon, but laboured to have her confess the truth of the matter. At length the time came when she expected to suffer, and Mr. Latimer came, as he was wont, to instruct her; unto whom she made great lamentation and moan, to be purified before her suffering, for she thought she must be damned if she died without purification.

THEN Mr. Bilney being with Mr. Latimer, both told her, that that law was made for the Jews, and not for us, and that women be as well in the favour of God before they be purified as after; and rather it was appointed for a civil and political law, for natural honesty's sake, than that they should any thing the more be purified from sin thereby, &c. So thus they argued with this woman till they had better instructed her, and at length shewed her the king's pardon, and let her go.

THIS good act, among many others about that time, happened in Cambridge by Mr. Latimer and Mr. Bilney. But this was not all, for many more like matters were wrought by them. But as it is commonly seen in the natural course of things, that as the fire beginneth to kindle, so the more smoke ariseth withal, in much like sort it happened with Mr. Latimer, whose zeal the more it began to work, his virtues to be seen, and his doings to be known, the more his adversaries began to kick and spurn against him. Concerning these adversaries, and such as did molest him, partly their names are above expressed. Among the rest of this number was Dr. Redman, a man favouring more of superstition than of true religion, after the zeal of the Pharisees, yet not so malignant or hurtful, but of a civil and quiet disposition, and also liberal in well-doing, that few poor scholars were in that university who fared not better by his purse. This Dr. Redman was a man of great authority in the university of Cambridge, and perceiving the bold enterprize of Mr. Latimer, in setting abroad the word and doctrine of the gos|pel, at this time, or much about the same, writeth to him, seeking by persuasion to revoke the said Latimer from that kind and manner of teaching; to whom Mr. Latimer maketh answer again in a few words: the sum and effect of both their letters, translated out of the Latin, here followeth.

LETTER From Dr. REDMAN to Mr. LATIMER.

GRACE be with you, and true peace in Christ Jesus. I beseech you heartily, and require most earnestly even for charity's sake, that you will not stand in your own conceit with a mind so indu|rate, nor prefer your own singular judgment in matters of religion and controversy before so many learned men, and which is more, before the whole catholic church, especially considering that you nei|ther have any thing in the word of God to make for you, nor yet the testimony of any authentic writer. Nay, nay, I beseech you rather consider that you are a man, and that lying and vanity may quickly blear your eyes, which doth sometime•• transform itself into an angel of light.

JUDGE not so rashly of us, as that wicked spirit hath tickled you in the ear, I assure you we are careful for you, and that we wish you to be saved, and that we also are careful for your own

salvation. Lay down your stomach I pray you▪ and humble your spirit, and suffer not the church to take offence with the hardness of your heart, nor that her unity and Christ's coat without seam (as much as lieth in you) should be torn asunder. Consider what the saying of the wise man is, and be obedient thereunto. Trust not your own wis|dom. The Lord Jesus Christ, &c.

REDMAN.

LETTER From Mr. LATIMER, in Answer to Dr. REDMAN.

REVEREND Mr. Redman, it is even enough for me, that Christ's sheep hear no man's voice but Christ's: and as for you, you have no voice of Christ against me, whereas for my part I have a heart that is ready to hearken to any voice of Christ that you can bring me. Thus fare you well, and trouble me no more from the talking with the Lord my God.

LATIMER.

AFTER Mr. Latimer had thus laboured in preach|ing and teaching in the university of Cambridge about the space of three years, at length he was called up to the cardinal for heresy, by the procure|ment of some of the said university, where he was content to subscribe and grant to such articles as then they propounded to him, &c.

AFTER that he returned to the university again, where shortly after, by the means of Dr. Buts, the king's physician, a singular good man, and a special favourer of good proceedings, he was in the num|ber of them which laboured in the cause of the king's supremacy. Then went he to the court, where he remained a certain time in the said Dr. But's chamber, preaching then in London very often. At last being weary of the court, having a benefice offered b•• the king, at the suit of the lord Cromwel and Dr. Buts, was glad thereof, seeking by that means to be rid of the court, wherewith in no case he could agree; and so having a grant of the benefice, contrary to the mind of Dr. Buts, he would needs depart, and be resident at the same.

THIS benefice was in Wiltshire, under the dio|cese of Sarum, the name of which town was called West Kingston, where this good preacher did exer|cise himself with much diligence of teaching to instruct his flock, and not only to them his diligence extended, but also to all the country about. In fine, his diligence was so great, his preaching so powerful, the manner of his teaching so zealous, that there in like sort he could not escape without enemies. So true it is what St. Paul foretelleth us, Whosoever will live godly in Christ, shall suffer persecution. It so happened, that whereas he preaching upon the blessed virgin Christ's mother, (whom we call our lady) had thereupon declared his mind, referring and reducing all honour only to Christ our only Saviour, certain popish priests be|ing therewith offended, sought and wrought much trouble against him, drawing out articles and impo|sitions which they untruly, unjustly, falsely, and uncharitably imputed unto him: First, that he should preach against our lady, for that he reproved in a sermon the superstitious rudeness of certain blind priests, which so held together upon the bles|sed virgin, as though she never had any sin, nor were saved by Christ the only Saviour of the whole world.

ITEM, That he should say, that saint•• were not to be worshipped.

ITEM, That Ave Maria was a salutation only, and no prayer.

ITEM, That there was no material 〈…〉〈…〉.

ITEM, That there was no purgatory, in saving, that he had rather be in purgatory than in Lollard's Tower.

TOUCHING the whole discourse of which articles, with his reply and answer to the same, hereafter shall follow when we come to his letters.

THE chief enemies and molesters of him, besides these country priests, were Dr. Powel, of Salisbury, Dr. Wilson, sometime of Cambridge, Mr. Hub|berdin, and Dr. Sherwood•• Of whom some preach|ed and some wrote against him; insomuch that by their procurement 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was cited up, and called to appear before W. 〈◊〉〈◊〉, archbishop of Canter|bury,

and John Stokesly, bishop of London, Jan. 29, 1531. The copy of which citation (as now translated from the Latin) here followeth.

The Copy of a Citation sent to Mr. LATIMER by the Chancellor of Sarum, at the Intercession of the bishop of London.

RICHARD HILLEY, doctor of the decrees of the most reverend father in God, Laurence, by divine providence, bishop of Sarum, and vicar general in spiritual affairs throughout England, to all and singular rectors, vicars, chaplains, curates, and the rest of the clergy and learned persons throughout the whole diocese of Sarum, health in our Lord Jesus Christ. Together and apart we commit and firmly command, that ye immediately cite, or cause to be cited, Mr. Hugh Latimer, vicar of West Kingston, in the county of Wilts, and dio|c••se of Sarum, that he may appear before the rev. father in God, John, by divine providence, bishop of London, or his vicar general in spirituals, or before the chapter held in the church of St. Paul, London, on Monday the 29th of this instant Janu|ary, between the hours of nine and eleven in the forenoon of the same day, there personally to answer to certain articles or questions concerning grievous crimes and misdemeanors by him committed, and under the cognizance of the bishop of London, and furthermore to receive condign punishment for the same: and that ye certify us at Sarum of what is done on the premisses before the 22d of this same month of January, that we may be able to certify the same to the abovesaid rev. father, the lord bishop of London, on or before the said 22d of January, according as the same rev. father having prayed and required it of us, in aid of the law, and out of mutual kindness.

Given at Sarum. under the seal of the aforesaid father in God, the 10th of January, 1531.

AGAINST this citation, although Mr. Latimer did appeal to his own ordinary, requiring him to be ordered, yet notwithstanding all that, he was had up to London befo•••• War••am the archbishop of Canterbury, and the bishop of London, where he was greatly molested, and detained a long time from his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 home. There he being called thrice every week before the said bishops, to make an|swer for his preaching, had certain articles or pro|positions drawn out and laid to him, whereunto they required him to subscribe. At length he not only perceiving their practical proceedings, but also much grieved with their troublesome unquietness, who neither would preach themselves, nor yet suffer him to preach and do his duty, writeth to the afore|said archbishop, partly excusing his infirmity, whereby he could not appear at their command|ment, partly expostulating with them for so trou|bling and detaining him from doing his duty, and that for no just cause, but only for preaching the truth against certain vain abuses crept into religion, much needful to be spoken against. All which may appear by his epistle sent to a certain bishop or archbishop, whose name is not expressed; the copy of which epistle is now translated from the Latin, and is as followeth.

A Copy of the Epistle by Mr. LATIMER to the Arch|bishop of Canterbury.

MOST REVEREND GOVERNOR,

HAD not sickness prevented me, I had myself waited on you at your palace; but these fresh troubles have brought on me a sharp return of an old distemper, so that I can't be able to wait on you to-day; I can't, I say, without great pain, but that your lordship might no longer in vain ex|pect my coming, I have sent these lines scribbled with mine own hand to your grace, as to a most up|right judge, of my excuse, in which I wish I had more time or more judgment to frame a just ex|postulation with your grace for detaining me so long against my will from my cure, and that so un|seasonably, at a time when it most behoves every pastor to be with his flock. But what shall I say, if it is lawful for so mean a prisoner to plead with so great a father? If we esteem a priest good for doing his duty, who, while he remains in this earthly tabernacle, never ceaseth to teach and ad|monish his congregation, and so much the more as he draws nearer his last home, what must we think of those who neither preach themselves now, (at which I should not wonder had they not been used to it before) nor permit those who are desirous to do it, unless they are bound to do and say nothing

but what they please. At first I thought it safe to submit myself intirely to your clemency, but now it seems as safe to justify myself a little, since one thing was pretended in the beginning, but now another, and what will be the end I have great room to doubt, but I hope truth only will be used. St. Jerome on these words (which I hope I shall never forget) "The Lord who preserveth truth, for ever shall deliver thee," writes thus, Whatso|ever I suffer for truth's sake shall never trouble me, for the Lord liveth and careth for me. First I was sent to London, where I was before the court of Canterbury, then all was stopped that had been done, and the matter had bounds and limits set to it by him who sent me; but so the business was handled and brought into doubt, that at length there seemed no end to it, but that it must be infi|nitely prolonged. For while, without either me|thod or design, I was questioned of one thing after another, whether pertinent or impertinent, now by one, and then by another, if I gave them no answer, or if I answered them to the purpose (which I thought was not imprudent sometimes to put an end to the dispute) I was equally uncivil; while one answers to many and of many things, he may inadvertently say something that may prejudice the most righteous cause. None ought to judge me wicked for what at most they can call but an error of conscience; and to remember all things, it behoves a man to remember the foundation of the other world. When a man acts against con|science he doth it to gain, to maintain, or defend his own, but what they charge me with is far diffe|rent, and I believe without example, wickedly re|questing to know the cause of my confinement. If any person is disposed to attack my sermons, that they are obscure, or not cautiously enough worded, I am prepared either to explain or vindi|cate them, for (to the best of ••••y knowledge) I never preached any thing against the truth, against the councils of the fathers, or against the catholic faith. All that my adversaries or detractors truly charge me with, is what I have long desired, and do desire, namely, the improving the com|mon people's judgment, I heartily desire that all men might know and comprehend the disagree|ment of things, the worth, place, time, degrees, and order proper for each, and how much they are concerned in those things which God has prepared for them to walk in: every man ought to be very diligent in doing the works of his calling; after which, things indifferent may be done with equal diligence, amongst which are all things which no law has for|bid, unless we forbid them to ourselves: it is lawful to use images, to go on pilgrimages, to invocate saints, to remember the souls in purgatory, but these which are voluntary acts are to be so restrained, that they diminish not the just esteem of the precepts of God (which bestow eternal life on those who follow them) should necessarily have; they who use them otherwise, are so far from gaining the love of God, that they rather incur his hatred. The true love of God is to keep his commandments, as our Saviour says, He who heareth my words and doth them, he it is who loveth me. Let no man then have so mean an opinion of the laws of God, as to make them equal to the fancies of men, since by those at the last day before the tribunal of Christ we shall all be judged, and not by these; as Christ says, The word that I speak, that shall judge you at the last day; and what 〈…〉〈…〉 able to make amends for the breach of one of those commands, by any or all of these specious additions? O that we would be but as ready, as diligent as devoted to do his will as we are to follow our own empty notions! Many things done with an upright heart God ac|cepts of, making allowance for our infirmities, though he has not commanded or required them; but these things ought to be taken away when they begin to have the force of commands, lest while we do these omit those that are absolutely necessary; and what can be more absurd than to revere as ordi|nances of God the idle fancies of men, whilst his true ordinances are neglected; whence I in behalf of the commandments of God stand hitherto immo|vable, not seeking my own but Christ's gain, not my own but God's glory, and whilst I live I will stand stedfast: so all the German divines have hi|therto complained of the intolerable abuse of these things, that no man desirous of the glory of Christ can accept of the ministry without doing things against his conscience, and if some have (for I will not say none) submitted to this hardship purely to do good, yet what ••oth the christian religion suffer

by it? unless we are so miserably blinded as to think that these things are to be dispensed with for our own filthy gain, though they are not for the honour of God. Now who can justify the constant practice of such things which in themselves are highly criminal? Some things are constantly per|formed which ought never, while others are omit|ted which ought always to be done: now who cannot see this manifest abuse? And who sees, and does not grieve? And who grieves, that would not labour to remove it? And when shall it be remov|ed, while it is constantly preached and commended? Why, it is hardly possible for it not to be 〈◊〉〈◊〉. It is one thing barely to permit, a••d another to enforce as law. Go (says Christ) and teach all things; but what are those all things? Why, all that you have heard of me, not all that seems fit to yourselves. Let us therefore by the help of God, go and do likewise: let us employ our whole strength to preach the sincere word of God, not to flatter or cook up our sermons to men's 〈…〉〈…〉 then shall we be true preachers of God's word. As careless as men are in what relates to God, they are diligent enough in what relates to themselves, to this they want no spurs; but they are miserably deceived by an unjust esteem of things, and an early superstition received in their tender years from their fore-fathers, which we are hardly able to remedy by any preaching, how frequent, how earnest, how sincere and pure soever, which God doth not now permit; for in these evil days they who ought to preach themselves (for to us, says St. Peter, has he given to preach the gospel) forbid them to preach who are willing and able, and on the contrary, co••|ple time-servers, who damnably detain the miserable people in superstition and false confidence; but Lord have mercy upon us, and grant we may know thy way upon earth, not to be found amongst those to whom the Lord says, My ways are not your ways, neither are my thoughts your thoughts? Hence I dare not subscribe to these propositions, most honoured father, because I would no ways be accessary to the longer continuance of these popular superstitions, lest I should be the author of my own damnation. Was I worthy, I would even give you some advice, but that little impertinent thing the heart, can do little else than guess, none know|ing the things of a man but the spirit of a man which is in him. It is not any pride that hinder•• me from subscribing to these propositions; on the contrary, I am very sorry I cannot wholly perform your request. I know how great a crime it is to disobey the fathers and governors of the church, but then regard is to be had to what they com|mand, in which case we ought always to obey God rather than man.

MY head aches so much, and my body is so weak, that I can neither come, nor write over again and correct these lines; but your lordship, I ••ope, will approve, if not the judgment, yet the endeavours of

Your lordship's devoted servant, HUGH LATIMER.

IN this aforesaid epistle (as you hear) he maketh mention of certain articles or propositions, where|••nto he was required by the bishops to subscribe. The copy and effect of those articles or rude propo|sitions (as he calleth them) are these:

ARTICLES devised by the Bishops for Mr. LATI|MER to subscribe unto.

I Believe that there is a purgatory to purge the souls of the dead after this life.

THAT the souls in purgatory are holpen with the masses, prayers, and alms of the living.

THAT the saints do pray as mediators now for us in heaven.

THAT they are to be honoured of us in heaven.

THAT it is profitable for christians to call upon the saints, that they may pray as mediators for us unto God.

THAT pilgrimages and oblations done to the sepulchres and relics of saints are meritorious.

THAT they which have vowed perpetual chastity may not marry, nor break their vow, without the dispensation of the pope.

THAT the keys of binding and loosing, delivered to Peter, do still remain with the bishops of Rome his successors, although they live wickedly, and are by no means, nor at any time, committed to laymen.

THAT men may merit and deserve at God's hand by fasting, prayer, and other good works of piety.

THAT they which are forbidden by the bishop to preach, as suspected persons, ought to cease until they have purged themselves before the said bishop, or their superiours, and be restored again.

THAT the fast which is used in Lent, and other fasts prescriped by the canons, and by custom received of the christians (except necessity otherwise require) are to be observed and kept.

THAT God in every one of the ••even sacraments giv••th grace to 〈◊〉〈◊〉, rightly receiving the same.

THAT consecrations, sanctifyings and blessings, by use and custom received in the church, are lauda|ble and profitable.

THAT it is laudable and profitable, that the venerable images of the crucifix and other saints, should be had in the churches as a remembrance, and to the honour and worship of Jesus Christ and his saints.

THAT it is laudable and profitable to deck and to clothe those images, and set up burning lights be|fore them to the honour of the said saints.

TO these articles whether he did subscribe or no, it is uncertain. It appeareth by this epistle above-written to the bishop, that he durst not consent unto them, where he writeth in these words; I dare not subscribe to these propositions, because I would no ways be accessary to the longer continu|ance of these popular superstitions, lest I be the author, &c. But yet, whether he was compelled afterwards to agree, through the cruel dealing of the bishops, is in doubt. By the words and the title in Tonstal's register prefixed before the articles it may seem that he did subscribe. The words of the register are these▪ ••ugh Latimer, bachelor of divinity, of the university of Cambridge in a convocation held at Westminster before the lord archbishop of Canterbury, John, lord bishop of London, and the rest of the clergy, has acknow|ledged and made the following confession of his faith, as in these articles, March 21, 1531. If these words be true, it may be thought that he sub|scribed. And whether he so did, no great m••••ter nor marvel, the iniquity of the time being such; that either he must needs so do, o•• else abide the bishop's blessing; that is, cruel sentence of death, which he at that time (as he himself confessed, preaching at Stamford) was loth to sustain for such matters as these were, unless it were for articles necessary of his belief; for by his words I conjecture rather that he did subscribe at length, although it was long before he could be brought so to do. Yet this by the way is to be noted, concerning the crafty and deceitful handling of these bishops in his examinations, what subtle devices they used 〈◊〉〈◊〉 same time to entrap him in their snares. The truth of the story has shewed forth himself in a ce••tain sermon preached at Stamford, October 9, ••550; his words be these:

I was once (saith he) in examination before five or six bishops, where I had much trouble; thrice every week I came to examinations, and many snares and traps were laid to get something. Now God knoweth I was ignorant of the law, but that God gave me wisdom what I should speak▪ it was God indeed, for else I had never escaped them. At last I was brought forth to be examined into a chamber hung with arras, where I was wont to be examined: but now at this time the chamber was somewhat altered. For whereas before there was wont always to be a fire in the chimney, now the fire was taken away, and an arras hanged over the chimney, and the table stood near the chimney's end.

THERE was amongst the bishops who examined me, one with whom I have been very familiar, and took him for my great friend, an aged ma••, and he sat next the table's end.

THEN amongst all other questions he put fort•• one, a very subtle and crafty one, and such an one indeed as I could no•• think so great danger in.

And when I should make answer, I pray you, Mr. Latimer, said one, speak out, I am very thick of hearing, and here be many that sit far off. I mar|velled at this that I was bid to speak out, and begun to suspect, and give an ear to the chimney; and, sir, there I heard a pen writing in the chimney behind the cloth. They had appointed one there to write all mine answers, for they made sure that I should not start from them: there was no starting from them. God was my good Lord, and gave me answer, I could never else have escaped it. The question then and there objected to him was, Whether he thought in his conscience, that he hath been suspected of heresy. This was a cap|tious question. There was no holding of peace; for that was to grant himself faulty. To answer, it was every way full of danger. But God, which always giveth in need what to answer, helped him, or else (as he confessed himself) he had never escap|ed their bloody hands. Albeit what was his answer, he doth not here express. And thus hitherto you have heard declared the manifold troubles of this godly preacher, in the time not only of his being in the university, but especially at his benefice, as partly his own words above-mentioned, and partly by his own letters hereafter following may better appear.

IN these so hard and dangerous straits, and such snares of the bishops, hard it had been for him, and impossible to have escaped and continued so long, had not the almighty helping hand of the highest, as he stirred him up, so preserved him through the favour and power of his prince; who with much favour embraced him, and with his mere power sometime rescued and delivered him out of the crooked claws of his enemies. Moreover, at length, also through the procurement partly of Dr. ••uets, partly of the good lord Cromwel, he advanced him to the degree and dignity of a bishop, making him the bishop of Worcester, which so continued a few years, instructing his diocese, ac|cording to the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of a diligent and vigilant pastor, with wholsome doctrine and example of perfect conversation duly agreeing to the same. It were a long matter to stand particularly upon such things as might here be brought to the commendation of his pains; as study, readiness, and continual preaching, exhorting, visiting, correcting, and re|forming, either as his ability could serve, or else the time would bear. But the days then were so dangerous and variable, that he could not in all things do what he would. Yet what he might do, that he performed to the uttermost of his strength, so that although he could not utterly extinguish all the sparkling relics of old superstition, yet he so wrought, that though they could not be taken away, yet they should be used with as little hurt, and with as much profit as might be. As for ex|ample, in this thing, and divers others it did appear, that when it could not be avoided, but holy water and holy bread must needs be received, yet so he prepared and instructed them of his diocese, with such informations and lessons that in receiving there|of superstition should be excluded, and some re|membrance taken thereby, teaching and charging the ministers of his diocese, in delivering the holy water and the holy bread, to say the words follow|ing·

Words spoken to the People in giving them Holy Water.

"Remember your promise in baptism, Christ, his mercy and blood-sl••••dding, By whose most holy sprinkling, Of all your sins you have free pardoning."

What to say in giving Holy Bread.

"Of Christ's body this is a token, Which on the cross for our sins was broken: Wherefore of your sins you must be forsakers. If of Christ's death you will be partakers."

BY this it may be considered what the diligent care of this bishop was in doing the duty of a faith|ful pastor among his flock. And moreover it is to be thought that he would have brought more things else to pass, if the time then had answered to his desire; for he was not ignorant how the institution of holy water and holy bread, not only had no ground in scripture, but also how full of profane exorcisms and conjurations they were, contrary to the rule and learning of the gospel. Thus this good man behaved himself in his diocese. But (as before) both in the university and at his benefice, he was tost and troubled by wicked and evil dispos|ed

persons; so in his bishopric also, he was not free from some that sought his trouble. As among many other evil willers, one especially there was, and that was no small person, who accused him then to the king for his sermons. The story, be|cause he himself sheweth in a sermon of his before king Edward, I thought therefore to use his own words, which are these:

IN the king's days that is dead, a great many of us were called together before him, to speak our minds in certain matters. In the end one kneeleth down and accuseth me of sedition; and that I had preached seditious doctrine. A heavy salutation, and a hard point of such a man's doing, as if I should name you would not think.

THE king turned to me, and said, What say you to that, sir? Then I kneeled down, and turned first to my accuser, and required him; Sir, what form of preaching would you appoint me in preaching before a king? Would you have me preach nothing as concerning a king in a king's sermon? Have you any commission to appoint me what I shall preach? Besides this, I asked him divers other questions, and he would make no answer to any of them all; he had nothing to say.

THEN I turned to the king, and submitted my|self to his grace, and said, I never thought myself worthy, nor did I ever sue to be a preacher before your grace, but I was called to it, and would be willing (if you mislike me) to give place to my betters; for I grant that there be a great many more worthy of the room than I am. And if it be your grace's pleasure so to allow them for preachers, I could be content to carry their books after them. But if your grace allow me for a preacher, I would desire your grace to give me leave to discharge my conscience, and thus to frame my doctrine accord|ing to my audience. I had been a very blockhead to have preached so at the borders of your realm, as I preach before your grace.

AND I thank Almighty God (who hath always been my remedy) that my sayings were well accept|ed of the king; for like a gracious lord he turned into another communication. It is even as the scripture saith, The Lord directeth the king's heart. Some of my friends came to me with 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in their eyes, and told me, they expected I should have been in the Tower the same night.

BESIDES this, divers other conflicts and combats this godly bishop sustained in his own country and diocese, in taking the cause of right and equity against oppression and wrong. As for another example, There was at that time not far from the diocese of Worcester, a certain justice of the peace, whom here I will not name, being a good man afterwards, and now deceased. This justice in purchasing of certain lands, for his bro|ther, or for himself, went about to wrong or dam|nify a poor man, who made a complaint to Mr. Latimer. He first hearing, then tendering his rightful cause▪ wrote his letter to the gentleman, exhorting him to remember himself, to consider the cause, and to abstain from in••ury. The justice of peace not content withal (as the fashion of men is when they are told of their faults) sendeth word again in great displeasurer that he would not so take it at his hands, with such threatening words. Mr Latimer hearing this, answered again, by writ|ing to a certain gentleman; the copy whereof a|mong his letters hereafter followeth in the sequel of this story to be seen.

IT were a large and long process to declare all the doings, travels, and writings of this christian bishop, neither yet have we expressed all that came to our hands; but this I thought sufficient for the present. Thus he continued in his laborious func|tion of a bishop some years, till the coming in of the six articles. Then being distressed through the straightness of time, so that either he must lose the quietness of a good conscience, or else forsake his bishopric, the latter of which he freely did, and Dr. Shaxton, the bishop of Salisbury, resigned likewise with him. At which time he threw off his rochet in his chamber among his friends, and suddenly gave a skip on the floor for joy, feeling his shoulder so light, and being discharged (as he said) of such a heavy burden. However, he was not so lightened, but that troubles and labours fol|lowed him wheresoever he went. For a little after he had renounced his bishopric, he was much bruis|ed by the fall of a tree; then coming up to London for remedy, he was molested and troubled by the

bishops, whereby he was again in no little danger, and at length was sent to the Tower, where he continually remained prisoner, till the time that the blessed king Edward entered his crown, by which the golden mouth of this preacher, long shut up before, was now opened again. And so he beginning afresh to set forth his plough again, continued all the time of the said king, labouring in the Lord's harvest most fruitfully, discharging his talent at Stamford, and before the duchess of Suffolk, and many other places in this realm (whose sermons are now extant) as also at London in the Convocation-house, and especially before the king at the court; in the same place of the inward gar|den, which was before applied to lascivious and courtly pastimes, there he dispensed the fruitful word of the glorious gospel of Jesus Christ, preaching there before the king and his whole court, to the edification of many.

AND thus he spent his time in king Edward's days, preaching for the most part, twice every Sunday, to the shame of all other loitering and un••••eaching prelates, who occupy great rooms, and do little good; and so much the more to their shame, because he being a man so bruised by the fall of a tree, and above 67 years of age, took so little ease and care of sparing himself, to do the people good. Now to speak here of his indefati|gable diligence in his private studies: notwith|standing his years, and the fatigue of so often preaching, it was his custom every morning, winter and summer, to be diligently at his book by two o'clock. How careful his heart was of the pre|servation of the church, and the good success of the gospel, his letters can testify, wherein he ad|monisheth those of their duty that were then in authority, and assisted them with his godly coun|sel.

AS the diligence of this man of God never ceased all the time of king Edward, to profit the church both publicly and privately, so it is likewise to be observed, that the same good Spirit of God that assisted and comforted him in preaching the gospel, did also enable him to foretel all those kinds of plagues, which afterwards ensued; ever if England had a prophet, he seemed to have been one. And as touching himself, he ever affirmed, that the preaching of the gospel would cost him his life, to which he no less chearfully prepared himself, than certainly was persuaded that Winchester was kept in the Tower for the same purpose, as the event did too truly prove the same. For after the death of the said pious king Edward, not long after queen Mary was proclaimed, a pursuivant was sent down (by the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, no doubt, of Winches|ter) into the country, to call him up, of whose coming although Mr. Latimer lacked no forewarn|ing, being premonished about six hours before by one John Careles, (whose story hereafter followeth) yet he was so far from endeavouring to escape, that he prepared himself for his journey before the said officer came to his house.

AT which when the pursuivant marvelled, seeing him so prepared for his journey, Mr. Latimer said unto him, My friend, you are a welcome messenger unto me. And be it known unto you and to all the world, that I go as willingly to London at this present, being called by my prince to render a reck|oning of my doctrine, as ever I went to any place in the world. I doubt not but that God, as he hath made me worthy to preach his word before two excellent princes, so will he enable me to wit|ness the same unto the third, either to her comfort, or discomfort eternally, &c. When the pursuivant had delivered his letters, he departed, affirming, that he had commandment not to tarry for him. By whose sudden departure it was manifest that they would not have him appear, but rather to have fled out of the realm. They knew that his constancy should deface them in their popery, and confirm the godly in the truth.

THUS Mr. Latimer being sent for, and coming up to London, (entering Smithfield, he merrily said, That Smithfield had long groaned for him) was brought before the council, where he patiently bearing all the mocks and taunts given him by the scornful papists, was again sent to the Tower, where being assisted with the heavenly grace of Christ, patiently sustained imprisonment a long time; notwithstanding the cruel and unmerciful usage of the lordly papists, who then thought their kingdom would never fall, yet he shewed him|self

not only patient, but also merry and chearful, in and above all that which they could work against him: yea, such a valiant spirit the Lord gave him, that he was able not only to despise the terribleness of prisons and torments, but also to deride and laugh to scorn even the cruel proceedings of his enemies. It is well known to many what answer he made to the lieutenant when he was in the Tow|er. For when the lieutenant's man upon a time came to him, the aged father, kept without fire in the frosty winter, and well nigh starved with cold, he bade the man tell his master, That if he did not look better after him, perchance he might deceive him.

THE lieutenant hearing this, and not knowing what to make of so odd a speech, and fearing that he would make in earnest his escape, began to look more strictly to his prisoner, and so coming to him, beginneth to charge him with his words, reciting the same unto him which his man had told him before; that if he were not better looked unto, perchance he might deceive him. Yea, Mr. Lieu|tenant, so I said, (says he) for I suppose you expect that I should burn; but except you let me have some fire, I am like to deceive your expectation, for I am like to starve here with cold.

MANY such-like answers and reasons, merry, but savoury, coming not from a vain mind, but from a constant and quiet reason, proceeded from that man, declaring a firm and stable heart, little minding all this blustering of their terrible threats, but rather deriding the same.

THUS Mr. Latimer passing a long time in the Tower, with as much patience as a man in his case could do, from thence was transported to Oxford, with Dr. Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury, and Dr. Ridley, bishop of London, there to dispute upon articles sent down from Gardiner bishop of Winchester, as is before mentioned; the manner and order of which disputations between them and the university doctors, is also before sufficiently expressed. Where also is declared, how, and by whom the said Latimer, with his other fellow-prisoners, were condemned after disputations, and so committed again to the prison, and there they continued from the month of April till the month of October, where they were most godly occupied, either with brotherly conference, or with fervent prayer, or with fruitful writing.

ALBEIT, Mr. Latimer, by reason of the feeble|ness of his age, wrote least of them all, in this latter time of his imprisonment; yet in prayer he wa•• fervently occupied, wherein oftentimes so long he continued kneeling, that he was not able to rise without help; and amongst other things, these were three principal matters that he prayed for.

FIRST, That as God had appointed him to be a preacher of his word, so also he would give him grace to stand to his doctrine until his death, that he might give his heart's blood for the same.

SECONDLY. That God of his mercy would restore his gospel to Eng••and once again; and these words Once again, Once again, he did so inculcate and beat into the ears of the Lord God, as though he had seen God before him, and spoken to him face to face.

THE third matter was, to pray for the preserva|tion of the lady Elizabeth, whom in his prayer he used to name, and even with tears desired God to make her a comfort to this comfortless realm of England.

THESE were the matters he prayed for so earnest|ly. Neither were these things of him desired in vain, as the good success thereof after following did declare; for the Lord most graciously did grant all those his requests.

FIRST, Conce••••ing his constancy, even in the most extremity the Lord graciously assisted him. For when he stood at the stake without Bocardo|gate at Oxford, and the tormentors about to set the fire to him, and to the learned and pious Dr. Rid|ley, he lifted up his eyes towards heaven, with an audible and comfortable countenance, saying these words, "God is faithful, which doth not suffer us to be tempted above our strength;" and so after|wards shed his blood in the cause of Christ, which blood ran out of his heart in such abundance, that all

those that were present, being godly, did marvel to see the most part of the blood in his body to be gathered to his heart, and with such violence to gush out, his body being opened by the force of the fire; by which things God most graciously granted his request, which was, That he might shed his heart's blood in the defence of the gos|pel.

HOW mercifully the Lord heard his second re|quest, in restoring his gospel once again unto this realm, these present days can bear record. And what then shall England say now for her defence, which being so mercifully visited and refreshed with the word of God, so slenderly and unthankfully considereth either her own misery past, or the great benefit of God now present? The Lord be mer|ciful unto us, Amen.

AGAIN, concerning his third request, it seemeth likewise most effectually granted, to the great praise of God, the furtherance of his gospel, and to the unspeakable comfort of this realm. For whether at the request of his prayer, or of other God's holy saints, or whether God was moved with the cry of his whole church, the truth is, that when all was deplorable and in a desperate case, and so desperate that the enemies mightily flourished and triumphed, God's word was banished, Spaniards received, no place left for Christ's servants to cover their heads, suddenly the Lord called to remem|brance his mercy, and forgetting our former iniqui|ty, made an end of all these miseries, and wrought a marvellous change of things; at the change whereof the said queen Elizabeth was appointed and anoint|ed, for whom this gray-headed father so earnestly prayed in his imprisonment: through whose true, natural, and imperial crown, the brightness of God's word was set up again to confound the dark and false vizored kingdom of Antichrist, the true temple of Christ re-edified, the captivity of sorrow|ful christians released, which so long was wished for in the prayers of so many good men, especially of this faithful and true servant of the Lord, Mr. Latimer.

THE same God, who at the requests of his holy, faithful saints hath poured upon us such benefits of his mercy, peace, and tranquillity, assist our most virtuous and christian prince, and his subjects, that we may every one in his state and calling serve to his glory, and walk in our vocation, that we lose not that which we have obtained, but may proceed in all faithfulness, to build and keep up the house and temple of the Lord, to the advancing of his glory, and our everlasting comfort in him. And thus much concerning the laborious travels of Mr. Latimer. Now after these things thus finished and discoursed, pertaining to the story of his life, let us come to his letters, which he wrote at divers and sundry times from the beginning of his preach|ing, all which here to comprehend, which he wrote both in English and Latin, want of room at pre|sent will not permit: nevertheless some we shall insert, and first concerning the articles above-mentioned, for which he was troubled by the priests of the country about his benefice at West-Kingston; which he writeth thereof to Mr. Morrice, the copies whereof follow.

ARTICLES untruly, unjustly, falsely, and uncharitably imputed to me by Dr. POWEL, of Salisbury.

FIRST, that our Lady was a sinner.

OCCASIONED of some, not only lay-men, but also priests and beneficed men, who gave so much to our lady of devotion without judgme••••▪ as though she had not needed Christ to save her. To prove Christ her Saviour, to make Christ a whole Saviour of all that be, or shall be saved, I reasoned after this manner: That either she was a sinner, or no sinner; there is no mean. If she was a sinner, then she was redeemed or delivered from sin by Christ, as other sinners be: if she was no sinner, then she was preserved from sin by Christ; so that Christ saved her, and was her necessary Saviour, whether she sinned or no. Now certain authors, said I, as Chrysostom, Theophylact, and others, write, as though she had been something faulty in her time. Also I said, that certain scriptures standeth to the same, unless they be the more warily understood and taken, (as in Rom. iii.10.20.) All have declined, that every mouth be stopped, and all the world be bounden or in danger to God. And after in the same chapter, All have sinned, and need the glory of God. And in the fifth, And

so death passed through into all men and women, forasmuch as all have sinned. But to these scrip|tures I said it might be answered, that the privilege of one, or of a few, doth not derogate or diminish the verity of an universal exposition in scriptures.

AND as to the doctors, I said, that others say otherwise; and forasmuch as now it is universally and constantly received and applied that she was no sinner, it becometh every man to stand and agree to the same; and ••o will I, said I, nor any man that is wise, will the contrary: but to my purpose it is neither to nor from, to prove neither this nor that; for I will have her saved, and Christ her Saviour, whether ever she was, &c.

AND to that, what need you to speak of this? I answered great need, when man cannot be content that she was a creature saved, but as it were a Saviouress, not needing salvation, it is necessary to set her in degree to the glory of Christ, Creator and Saviour of all that be or shall be saved. Good authors have written that she was not a sinner: but good authors never wrote that she was not saved: for though she never sinned, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 she was not so impeccable, but she might have sinned, if 〈◊〉〈◊〉 had not been preserved: it was of the goodness of God that she never sinned: it had come of her own illness if she had sinned: there was difference be|tween her and Christ. And I will give as little to her as I can (doing her no wrong) rather than Christ her Son and Saviour shall lack any thing of his glory; and I am sure that our lady will not be displeased with me for so doing, for our lady sought his glory here upon earth, she would not defraud him now in heaven: but some are so superstitiously religious, or so irreligiously superstitious, so pre|posterously devout toward our lady, as though there could not too much be given to her: such are zeals without knowledge and judgment to our lady's displeasure.

NO doubt our lady was, through the goodness of God, a good and a gracious creature, a devout handmaid of the Lord, endued with singular gifts and graces from above, which through the help of God she used to God's pleasure, according to her duty, so giving example to do likewise, so that all the goodness that she had, she had it not of her|self, but of God the author of all goodness: the Lord was with her favourably, and poured graces unto her plenteously, as it is in the Ave Maria. The son of God, when he would become man, to save both man and woman, did chuse her to be his mother, which love he shewed to her alone, and to no other, of his benign goodness, by which she was the natural mother of Christ: and through faith in Christ she was the spiritual sister of Christ, saved by Christ, blessed by hearing Christ's word, and keeping the same. It would not have availed her to salvation, to have been his natural mother, if she had not done the will of his heavenly Father: by him she was his mother, by him she did the will of his Father: she the hand-maiden, he the Lord. The hand-maiden did magnify the Lord, the hand-maiden would that all should magnify the Lord, to whom be honour and glory for ever, Amen.

TO honour him worthily, is not to dishonour our lady; he is as able to preserve from sin, as to de|liver from sin; he was then subject to Joseph his father-in-law, his mother's husband; Joseph is now subject to him. He never dishonoured Joa|chim and Anna, his grandfather and grandmother, and yet I have not read that he preserved them from all sin.

TO say that Peter and Paul, David and Mary Magdalen, were sinners, is not to dishonour them: for then scripture doth dishonour them. It had not been for our profit to have preserved them all that he could have preserved.

FOR remembrance of that fall and up-rising keepeth us in our fall from despairing: both is of God, to have not sinned, and to have forsaken and left sin. And as sure is this of heaven as that, and this more common than that, and to us that have been sinners more comfortable.

IT hath been said in times past, without sin, that our lady was a sinner: but it was never said with|out sin, that our lady was not saved, but a Saviour: I do not go about to make my lady a sinner, but to have Christ her Saviour. When mine adversa|ries cannot reprove the thing that I say, then thy

will belie me, to say the thing that they can reprove. They will sin to make our lady no sinner, to prove that, that no man dieth. So that provers, and so cold probations saw you never. It were better un|proved, than so weakly proved. But they be de|vout towards honouring of our lady, but a sin to have our lady no sinner, or to say she was no sinner.

I would be as loath to dishonour our lady as they, I pray God we may honour her as she would be honoured; for verily she is worthy to be ho|noured.

TO make a pernicious and a damnable lie, to have our lady no sinner, is neither honour, nor yet pleasure to our lady, but great sin, to the dishonour and displeasure both of God and her.

THEY should both please and honour our lady much better, to believe their sinful living, and keep themselves from sinfulness, as our lady did, than so sinfully to lie to make our lady no sinner•• which if they do not, they shall certainly go to the devil, though they believe ever so surely that our lady was no sinner.

AND for the Ave Maria they lie falsely, I never denied it: I know it was a heavenly salutation or greeting of our lady, spoken by the angel Gabriel, and written in the holy scripture of St. Luke. But yet it is not properly a prayer, as the Pater Noster is. Saluting or greeting, lauding or praising, is not properly praying. The angel was sent to greet our lady, and to communicate and shew the good will of God towards her, and therefore it is called, the Annunciation of our lady, and not to pray to her: shall the Father of heaven pray to our lady? When the angel spake it, it was not properly a prayer. And is it not the same thing now as it was the••? nor yet he that denieth the Ave Maria to be properly a prayer, denieth the Ave Maria; so that we may salute our lady with Hail Mary! as the angel did, though we be not sent of God so to do, as the angel was. Yet though we may so do, we have no plain command or so doing, as the an|gel had; so that the angel had been more to blame peradventure to have left it unsaid, than we be, for|asmuch as he was appointed of God to say it, and not we: but as I deny not, but as we may say the Pater Noster, and the Ave Maria together, that to God, this to our lady, so we may say them separate|ly, the Pater Noster by itself, and the Ave by itself; and the Pater Noster is a whole and a perfect prayer, without the Ave Maria; so that it is but a superstition to think that a Pater Noster cannot be well said without an Ave Maria at his heel. For Christ wa•• no fool, and when he taught the people to say a Pater Noster to God, he taught them not to say, neither Pater Noster, neither Ave Maria to our lady, nor yet Pater Noster to St. Peter, as Mr. Hubberdin doth: therefore to teach to say twenty Ave Marias for one Pater Noster, is not to speak the word of God as the word of God. And one Ave Maria well said, and devoutly with affection, sense, and understanding, is better than twenty-five said superstitiously. And it is not like, but our lady said many times the Pater Noster, forasmuch as her son Christ, whom she loved and honoured over all, did make it, and taught it to be said; whether she made an Ave Maria with all, or ten or twenty Ave Marias for one Pater Noster. I will leave that to learned men, as Hubberdin and Powel, to discuss and determine: she was not saved by often saying of the Ave Maria, but by consenting to the will of him that sent the angel to salute her with Hail Mary: wherefore if the praying of them which decline thei•• ear from hearing the law of God is execrable in the sight of God, yea, though they say the Pater Noster, I doubt not but the salutation of them hath been unpleasant to our lady in her sight, for whatsoever pleaseth not her Son, pleaseth not her; for she hath delight and pleasure in no|thing, but in him, and in that which delighteth and pleaseth him. Now we will be traitors to her Son by customable sinful living, and yet we shall think great perfection and holiness in numbering every day many Ave Marias to our lady, and so we think to make her our friend and patroness, and then we care not for God: for having our lady on our side, we may be bold to take our pleasure: for we fancy as though the very work and labour of repeating the Ave Maria is very acceptable to our lady, and the more, the more acceptable, not minding how they be said, so that they be said: if the Pater Noster which Christ both made and commanded us to use, may be used to Christ's displeasure, much more the Ave Maria, which neither Christ nor our lady bid us say, may be said ••o her displeasure; and

better never once said, than often so said. I would have a difference between well saying and often saying, and between that which Christ bids us say, and that which he bid us not say: and whether Ave Maria be said in heaven or no, who can tell but Dr. Powel? and if it be said always there without a Pater Noster, why may not Pater Noster be said here without Ave Maria; and whether doth our lady say it in heaven or no? Which thing I speak not to withdraw you from saying of it, but to with|draw you from superstitious and unfruitful saying of it. So that by occasion of false faith and trust that you have in the daily saying of it, you se•• not aside imitation and following of holy living, which will serve at length, when superstitious gree••ing will neither serve nor stand in strength: it is meet that every thing be taken, esteemed, and valued as it is.

WE salute also and greet well the holy cross, or the image of the holy cross, saying, All hail, holy cross, which hath deserved to bear the precious talent of the world: and yet who will say that ••e pray properly to the holy cross? whereby it may appear that greeting is one thing, praying another thing. The cross can neither hear nor speak again, no more than this pulpit: therefore we do salute it, not properly pray to it.

THE angel spake also to Zachary, before he speak to our lady. Be not afraid, Zachary, for thy prayer i•• heard, and thy wife Elizabeth shall bring thee forth a child which shall be called John, and great joy and gladness shall be at his birth, and he shall be great and full of the Holy Ghost from the womb of his mother, &c.

WHAT if a man should say these words every day, between the Pater Noster, and the Ave Maria, in the worship of St. Zachary, who I think is a saint in heaven, and was ere ever our lady came there to be honoured, I think he might please and honour St. Zachary, as well some other way, and better too, though they were words sent from God, spoken by an angel, and written by St. Luke in holy scripture.

AND yet if it were once begun and accustomed, I warrant some men would make it more than sacri|lege to leave it off, though the devil should sow ever so much superstition by process of time un|to it.

CHRIST made the Pater Noster for a prayer, and bid his people say it to his heavenly Father, One God in Trinity of Persons, one Father and Com|forter, one Worker and Doer of all things here in this world, saying unto us, After this manner shall ye pray, Our Father, &c. God sent his Son, amongst other things, to teach his people to pray: God sent his angel to greet our lady, not to teach his people to pray. For neither Christ nor the angel said to the people, This shall you pray, Ave Maria. When the apostles said to Christ, Teach us to pray; Christ said, When you pray, say, Our Father: he said not when you pray, say, Ave Ma|ria. I suppose Christ could teach to pray, as well as Dr. Powel and Mr. Hubberdin. I say that the Ave Maria was before the Pater Noster•• D••. Powel saith, it shall endure after the Pater No••••••er: I can prove my saying by scripture, which he can|not: yet as it is no good argument, The Ave Maria was before the Pater Noster; Ergo, it is properly a prayer: so it is no good argument, The Ave Maria shall last after the Pater Noster; Ergo, it is properly a prayer, without the antecedent be impossible, which is not credible to come out of such a fantastical brain.

WHO was ever so mad as to think that words of ••oly scripture could not be well said: and yet we may not be so peevish as to allow the superstitious sa••ing of holy scripture. The devil is crafty, and was frail and prone to superstition and idolatry; God give us grace to worship him and his, not after our own curiosity, but according to his ordi|nance with all humility.

ST. Zachary is to be honoured, and in no wise to be dishonoured; so that we may leave unsaid that which the angel said without dishonouring him.

IT is not necessary to our salvation to make an ordinance of honouring him, with saying as the angel did.

IT is better for a mortal man to do the office of a man, which God biddeth him to do, than to leave

that undone, and do the office of an angel which God biddeth us not to do: if the other be pre|sumption, I had rather presume to pray to God, which is God's bidding and man's office, than to presume into the office of an angel without God's bidding.

IT is a godly presumption, to presume to do the bidding of God.

HERE I neither say, that our lady wa•• a sinner, nor yet deny the Ave Maria.

SAINTS are not to be honoured.

I Said this word [Saints] is diversly taken by the vulgar people; images of saints are called saints, and inhabiters of heaven are called saints. Now by honouring of saints, is meant praying to saints. Take honouring so, and images for saints; so saints are 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to be honoured: that is to say, dead images are not to be prayed unto; for they have neither ears to hear withal, nor tongue to speak withal, nor heart to think withal, &c.

THEY can neither help me, nor mine ox, neither my head nor my tooth, nor work any miracle for me, one no more than another: and yet I shewed the good use of them to be laymen's books, as they are called, reverently to look upon them, to remem|ber the things that are signified by them, &c.

AND yet I would not have them so costly and curiously gilt and decked, that the quick image of God, (for whom Christ shed his blood, and to whom whatsoever is done Christ reputeth it done to him|self) lack necessaries and be unprovided for by that occasion, for then the layman doth abuse his book.

A man may read upon his book, though it be not very curiously gilded; and in the day-time a man may behold it without many candles, if he be not blind.

NOW I say there be two kinds of mediators, one by way of redemption, another by way of interces|sion; and I said that these saints, that is to say, images called saints, be mediators neither way.

AS touching pilgrimages, I said, that all idolatry, supertition, error, false faith, and hope in the ima|ges, must be pared away, before they can be well done, houshold looked upon, poor christian people provided for, restitutions made, all ordinance of God discharged, or ever they can be well done. And when they be at best, before they be vowed, they need not to be done▪ they shall never be re|quired of us, though they be never done, and yet we shall be blamed when they be all done; wives must advise with their husbands, and husbands with their wives, both with curates, ere ever they may be vowed to be done.

AND yet idolatry may be committed in doing of them, as it appeareth by St. Paul, in the first epistle to the Corinthians, chap. x. where he biddeth the Corinthians this; to beware of idolatry, and that after they had received the true faith in Christ; which had been vain, if they could not have done i••••latry: and expositors add, to beware not only of the act of idolatry, but also of all occasion of that act: which is plain against Mr. Hubberdin, and parson of Christ's church, who went about to prove, that now there could be no idolatry.

AS touching the saints in heaven, I said, They be not our mediators by way of redemption: for so Christ alone is our Mediator and their's both: so that the blood of martyrs hath nothing to do by way of redemption: the blood of Christ is enough for a thousand worlds, &c.

BUT by way of intercession, so saint•• in heaven may be mediators, and pray for us, as I think they do, when we call not upon them; for they be cha|ritable, and need no spurs, and we are not openly required of God in scripture to call upon them, as we call upon God, nor yet may we call upon them without any diffidence or mistrust in God; for God is more charitable, more merciful, more able, more ready to help than them all, so that though we may desire the saints in heaven to pray to God for us, yet it is not so necessary to be done, but that we may pray to God ourselves, without first making suit to them, and obtain of him whatsoever we need, if we continue in prayer; so that whatsoever we ask the Father in the name of Christ, his Son, the Fa|ther

will give it us▪ for saints can give nothing without him, but he can without them, as he did give to them: scripture doth set saints that be de|parted before our eyes for our examples, so that the chiefest and most principal worship and honouring of them is to know their holy living, and to follow them, as they followed Christ, &c.

GOD biddeth us come to him with prayer, and to follow his advice is no presumption, it is rather pre|suming to leave it undone to do that which he bid|deth us not do, &c. We must have saints in reve|rent memory, and learn, at God's goodness towards them to trust in God, and mark well their faith to|wards God and his word, their charity towards their neighbour, their patience in all adversity, and pray to God who gave them grace so to do, that we may do likewise, for such like doings we shall have like speedings, they be well honoured when God is well pleased; the saints were not saints by praying to saints, but by believing in him that made them saints: and as they were saints, so we may be saints; yea, there be many saints that never prayed to saints, and yet I deny not, but we may pray to saints, but rather to him who can make us saints, who calleth us to him, biddeth us call upon him, promiseth help, cannot deceive us and break his promise; when we pray faithfully to him we honour him, not after our own fantastical imagination, but even after his own wise ordinances, whom to honour is not to dishonour saints; therefore they lie that say, that I would not have saints to be honoured, &c.

There is no Fire in Hell.

I Never knew a man that said so. I speak of di|vers opinions that have been written of the na|ture of that fire; some that it is a spiritual fire, or at least way, a spiritual pain in the corporal fire; for as it is called a fire, so it is called a worm, but a spiritual and metaphorical worm, so they think of the fire. Some that it is a corporal and natural fire; some have thought diversly before the resurrection without the body, and after with the body; some that the soul without the body suffereth in the fire, but not of the fire; some both in and of the fire. The scholastic authors think, that the souls before the resurrection, because they be of spiritual sub|stance, do not receive the heat of the fire into them, which is a sensible and a corporal quality, so that Athanasius, a Greek author, calleth their pain Tris|titiam, a heaviness or anguish: and this opinion is probable enough: some think though they be al|ways in pain, yet they be not always in fire; but go from waters of snow to exceeding heat; but it i•• when their bodies be there; but whether in cold or heat, in water or in fire, in air or in earth, they lack no pain, their torment goeth with them, for they think that the devils that tempt us, though they have pain with them, yet they have not fire with them, for then they should be known by the heat of the fire.

I am certain, saith St. Augustine, that there is a fire in hell, but what manner of fire, or in what pa••t of the world, no man can tell but he that is of God••s privy council: I would advise every man to be more careful to keep out of hell, than trust he shall find no fire in hell. Chrysostom saith, That to be de|prived the fruition of the Godhead, is grea•••••• pain than being in hell: there is fire burning, there is heat, there is cold, there is pain without pleasure, torment without ease, anguish, heaviness, sorrow, and pensiveness, which tarrieth and abideth for all liars and hinderers of the truth.

There is no Purgatory after this life.

NOT for such liars as will bear me in hand to say that I said not: I shewed the state and condition of them that be in purgatory: then I denied it, not that they have charity in such surety, that they cannot lose it, so that they cannot murmur against God, cannot dishonour God, can neither dis|please God, nor be displeased with God, cannot be dissevered from God, cannot die, nor be in peril of death, cannot be damned, nor be in danger of dam|nation; cannot be but in surety of salvation; they be members of the mystical body of Christ as we be, and in more surety than we be; they love us charitably; charity is not idle, that is, it worketh and sheweth it, self, and therefore I say, they wish us well, and pray for us, they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not cry loud to God, they be in Christ, and Christ in them, they be with Christ, and Christ with them, they joy with the Lord Christ al|ways, taking thankfully whatsoever God doth with them, ever giving thanks to their Lord God, ever

and praising him in all things that he doth, discon|tent with nothing that he doth, &c.

AND forasmuch as they be always in charity, and when they pray for us, they pray always in charity, and be always God's friends, God's chil|dren, brethren and sisters to our Saviour Christ, even in God's favour, even have Christ with them, to offer their prayer to the Father of heaven, to whom they pray in the name of the Son. And we many times for lack of charity, having malice, envy, rancour, and hatred one towards ano|ther, be the children of the devil, inheritors of hell, adversaries to Christ, hated of God, his an|gels, and all his saints; they in their state may do us more good with their prayers, than we in this state. And they do us always good, unless the lack and impediment be in us; for prayer said in charity is more fruitful to him that it is said for, and more acceptable to God, than said out of cha|rity; for God looketh not to the work of praying, but to the heart of the prayer. We may well pray for them, and they much better for us, which they will do of their charity, though we desire them not.

I had rather be in purgatory than in the bishop of London's prison; for in this I might die bodily for lack of meat; in that I could not. In this I might die spiritually for fear of pain, or lack of good counsel; in that I could not. In this I might be in extreme necessity, in that I could not, if extreme necessity be peril of perishing. And then you know what followeth, if we be not bounden by precept to help, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 them that be in extreme necessity, we see not 〈◊〉〈◊〉 needeth in purgatory, but we see who needeth in this world. And John saith, If thou see thy brother, and help him not, how is the charity of God in thee? Here, either we be, or we may be in extreme necessity, both in body and soul; in purgatory neither one nor other. Here we be bound to help one another, as we would be helped ourselves under pain of damnation. Here for lack of help, we may murmur and grudge a|gainst God, dishonour God, undo ourselves, which inconveniencies shall not follow, if we do our duty to one another. I am sure the souls in purgatory be so charitable, and of charity so loth to have God dishonoured, that they would have nothing with+drawn from the poor here in this world, to be be|stowed upon them which might occasion the disho|nour of God, &c.

THEREFORE, howsoever we do for purgatory, ••et us provide to keep out of hell. And had I a thousand pounds to bestow, as long as I saw neces|sary occasion offered to me of God to dispense it upon my needy brother here in this world, accord|ing to God's commandment, I would not withdraw my duty from him for any provision of purgatory▪ as long as I saw dangerous ways unrepaired, poor men's daughters unmarried, men beg for lack of work, sick and sore for lack of succour. I would have difference between that which may be done and that which ought to be done, and this to go before that, and that to come after this: if God command one way, mine own devotion moveth me another way, which way should I go? I may by no tren|tals, no masses, no ladders of heaven, make a foundation for myself with other men's goods; goods wrongfully gotten must needs home again, must needs be restored to the owners, if they can be known, if not, they be poor men's goods: debts must needs be paid, creditors satisfied and content, God's ordinance towards my neighbour here in this world discharged, all affections and lusts moving to the contrary purged. Or else, though our soul-priests sing till they be blear-eyed, or say mass till they have worn their tongues to the stumps, neither their singings nor their sayings shall bring us out of hell, whither we shall go for contemning God's prohi|bitions.

HE that purgeth all errors of false opinions, all unwillingness to do God's ordinance, provideth not for hell or purgatory. Purgatory's iniquity had set aside restitutions, and brought poor christians to extreme beggary, replenished hell, and left heaven almost empty.

In Purgatory there is no pain

That can break their charity.

That can break their patience.

That can dissever them from Christ.

That can dissever Christ from them.

That can cause them to dishonour God.

That can cause them to displease God.

That can cause them to be displeased with God.

That can cause them to be discontent with God.

That can bring them to peril of death.

That can bring them to peril of damnation.

That can bring them to extreme necessity.

That can bring them from surety of salvation.

AND yet it followeth not that there is no pain.

HOWBEIT, if the bishop's two fingers can shake away a good part, if a friar's cowl, or the pope's pardon, or Scala Coeli of a groat, can dispatch for all together, it is not so greatly to be cared for, I have not leisure to write at large, and I wrote be|fore such things which in this haste come now to mind.

THEY that can reclaim at this, that the souls in purgatory do pray for us, if they could get as much money for the prayer, that the souls in purgatory say for us, as they have done for that, that they have said for them, they would not reclaim: You know the wasp that doth sting them, and make them so swell, they that reclaim at that, do not re|claim at this, nor at this following.

Christ's blood is not sufficient without the blood of martyrs.

Magdalen did not know Christ to be God before his resurrection.

There can be no idolatry.

Rome cannot be destroyed.

The pope is lord of all the world.

Whatsoever he doth is well done.

Pater Noster is to be said to St. Peter.

Pater Noster is but a beggarly prayer.

Ave Maria is infinitely better.

Twenty Ave Marias for one Pater Noster.

It was not necessary for scripture to be written.

He that leaveth father and mother maketh for our pilgrimage.

With many more.

Mr. LATIMER'S LETTER to Mr. MORRICE, concern|ing the Articles written, which were falsely laid against him.

RIGHT worshipful, and mine own good master Morrice, health in Christ Jesus. And I thank you for all hearty kindness, not only heretofore shewed unto me, but also that now of late you would vouchsafe to write unto me so poor a wretch, to my great comfort among all these my troubles. I trust and doubt nothing in it, but God will reward you for me, and abundantly supply mine inability, &c. Mr. Morrice, you would wonder to know how I have been treated at Bristol, I mean by some of the priests, who first desired me, welcomed me, made me cheer, heard what I said, and allowed my saying in all things while I was with them; when I was gone home to my benefice, perceiving that the people favoured me so greatly, and that the mayor had appointed me to preach at Easter, privily they procured an inhibition for all them that had not the bishop's license, which they knew well enough I had not, and so craftily defeated master mayor's ap|pointment, pretending they were sorry for it, pro|curing certain preachers to rail against me, as Hub|berdin and Powel, with others, whom when I had brought before the mayor, and the wise council of the town, to know what they could lay to my charge, wherefore they so declaimed against me, they said they spake as they were informed: how|ever no man could be brought forth that could stand to any thing: so that they had place and time to belie me shamefully, but they had no place or time to lay to my charge when I was present and ready to make them answer. God amend them, and assuage their malice, that they have against the truth and me, &c.

Our Lady was a sinner.

SO they did belie me to have said, when I had said nothing so, but to reprove certain▪ both priests and beneficed men, which do give ••o much to our lady, as though she had not been saved by Christ, a whole Saviour, both of her, and of all that be, or shall be saved; I did reason after this man|ner, that either she was a sinner, or no sinner; if a sinner, than she was delivered from sin by Christ; so that he saved her, either by delivering or preser|ving her from sin, so that without him, neither she, nor none other, either be, or could be saved. And to avoid all offence, I shewed how it might be an|swered, both to certain scriptures, which maketh all generally sinners, and how it might be answered unto Chrysostom and Th••ophilact, which makes her namely and specially a sinner. But all would not serve,

their malice was so great; notwithstanding that five hundred honest men can and will bear record. When they cannot reprove that thing that I do say, then will they belie me, to say that thing which they can reprove; for they will needs appear to be against me.

Saints are not to be worshipped.

SO they lied when I had shewn certain divers significations of this word [Saints] among the vulgar people: First, images of saints are called saints, and so they are not to be worshipped: take worshipping of them for praying to them; for they are neither mediators by way of redemption, nor yet by way of intercession. And yet they may be well used when they be applied to the uses for which they were ordained, to be laymens' books for remembrance of heavenly things, &c.

TAKE saints for inhabitants of heaven, and wor|shipping of them, for praying to them, I never de|nied, but that they might be worshipped, and be our mediators, though not by way of redemption, (for so Christ alone is a whole Mediator, both for them and for us) yet by the way of intercession.

Pilgrimage.

AND I never denied pilgrimage. And yet I have said that much scurf must be pared away, ere ever it can be well done; superstition, idolatry, false faith, and trust in the image, unjust estimation of the thing▪ setting aside God's ordinances for do|ing of the thing; debts must be paid, restitution made, wife and children must be provided for, duty to our neighbours discharged. And when it is at the best, before it be vowed, it need not be done, for it is neither under the command of God nor man to be done. And wives must advise with husbands, and husbands and wives with curates before it is done.

Ave Maria.

AS for Ave Maria, who can think that I would deny it? I said it was an heavenly greeting or ••••••••ting of our blessed lady, wherein the angel Gabriel, sent from the Father of heaven, did an|nunciate and shew unto her the good will of God towards her, and to what he had chosen her. But I said it was not properly a prayer, as the Pater Noster, which our Saviour Christ himself made for a p••••per prayer, and bid us to say it for a prayer, n•••• adding that we should say ten or twenty Aves or Marias also, but not so that we shall think that the Pater Noster is not good, a whole and perfect prayer, nor cannot be well said without Ave Maria; so that I did not speak against the well saying of it, but against superstitious saying of it, and of the Pater Noster too; and yet I put a difference be|twixt that, and that which Christ made to be said for a prayer.

No Fire in Hell.

WHO ever could say or think so? However, good authors do make a difference betwixt suffering in the fire with bodies, and without bodies. And as it is called a fire, so it is called a worm, and it is thought of some not to be a material worm, that is, a living beast, but it is a metaphor, but that is nothing to the purpose; for a fire it is, a grief, a misery, a sorrow, a heaviness inexplicable, and into|lerable, whose nature and condition in every point, who can tell, but he that is of God's privy council, saith St. Austin? God give us grace rather to be diligent to keep us out of it, than to be curious to discuss the property of it; for certain we be, that there is little ease, yea, none at all, but weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth▪ which be two effects of the extreme pain, rather certain tokens what pain there is, than what manner of pain there is.

No Purgatory.

HE that sheweth the state and condition of it, doth not deny it. But I had rather be in it than in Lollard's Tower, the bishop's prison, for divers reasons.

First, In this I might die bodily for lack of meat and drink; in that I could not.

Item, In this I might die spiritually for fear of pain, or lack of good council; there I could not.

Item, In this I might be in extreme necessity; in that I could not, if it be peril of perishing.

Item, In this I might lack charity; there I could not.

Item, In this I might lose my patience; in that I could not.

Item, In this I might be in danger of death; in that I could not.

Item, In this I might be without surety of salva|tion; in that I could not.

Item, In this I might dishonour God; in that I could not.

Item, In this I might murmur and grudge against God; in that I could not.

Item, In this I might displease God; in that I could not.

Item, In this I might be displeased with God; in that I could not.

Item, In this I might be judged to perpetual pri|son, as they call it; in that I could not.

Item, In this I might be craftily handled; in that I could not.

Item, In this I might be brought to bear a faggot; in that I could not.

Item, In this I might be discontented with God; in that I could not.

Item, In this I might be separated and dissevered from Christ; in that I could not.

Item, In this I might be a member of the devil; in that I could not.

Item, In this I might be an inheritor of hell; in that I could not.

Item, In this I might pray out of charity, and in vain; in that I could not.

Item, In this my lord and his chaplains might manacle me by night; in that they could not.

Item, In this they might strangle me, and say that I hanged myself; in that they could not.

Item, In this they might have me to the con|sistory, and judge me after their fashion; from thence they could not.

Ergo, I had rather be there than here. For tho' the fire be called ever so hot, yet if the bishop's two fingers can shake away a piece, a friar's cowl another part, and Scala Coeli all together, I will never found abbey, college, nor chauntry, for that purpose.

FOR seeing there is no pain that can break my charity, break my patience, cause me to dishonour God, to displease God, to be displeased with God, cause me not to joy in God, nor that can bring me to danger of death, or to danger of desperation, or from surety of salvation, that can separate me from Christ, or Christ from me, I care the less for it. John Chrysostom saith, the greatest pain that damn|ed souls have, is to be separate and cut off from Christ for ever; which pains the souls in purgatory neither have nor can have.

CONSIDER, Mr. Morrice, whether provision for purgatory hath not brought thousands to hell. Debts have not been paid; restitution of evil-gotten lands and goods hath not been made; christian people (whose necessities we see, to whom whatso|ever we do Christ reputeth done to himself, to whom we are bound under pain of damnation to do for, as we would be done for ourselves) are neglected and suffered to perish, last wills unfulfilled and broken; God's ordinance set aside: and also for purgatory, foundations have been taken for sufficient satisfaction; so we have trifled away the ordinances of God and restitutions. Thus we have gone to hell with masses, dirges, and ringing of many a bell. And who can pull pilgrimages from idolatry, and purge purgatory from robbery, but he shall be in peril to come in suspicion of heresy with them? So that they may fleece with pilgrimage, and spoil with purgatory. And verily the abuse of them cannot be taken away, but great lucre and advantage shall fall away from them, who had rather have profit with abuse, than lack the same with use; and that is the wasp that doth sting them, and maketh them to swell. And if purgatory were purged of all that it hath gotten, by setting aside restitution, and rob|bing of Christ, it would be but a poor purgatory; so poor, that it should not be able to feed so fat, and trick up so many idle and slothful lubbers.

I take God to witness, I would hurt no man, but it grieveth me to see such abuse continue without remedy: I cannot understand what they mean by the pope's pardoning of purgatory, but by way of suffrage, and as for sufferage, unless he do his duty, and seek not his own, but Christ's glory, I had ra|ther have the suffrage of Jack in the skullery, who in his calling doth exercise both faith and charity; but as for his mass, that is as good of another simple priest as of him. As for authority of keys, it is to loose from guiltiness of sin and eternal pain, due to the same, according to Christ's word, and not to his own private will: and as for pilgrimage, you would wonder what juggling there is to get money withal. I dwell within half a mile of the Foss-way, and you would wonder to see how they come by flocks out of the west-country to many images, but chiefly to the blood of the Hailes. And they believe verily that it is the very blood that was in Christ's body, shed upon the mount of Calvary for our salvation, and that the sight of it with their bodily eye doth certify them, and putteth them out of doubt, but they be clean in life, and in a state of salvation with|out spot of sin, which doth embolden them to do many things. For you would wonder if you should commune with them both coming and going, what faith they have. For as for forgiving their ene|mies, and reconciling their christian brethren, they cannot away withal; for the sight of that blood doth quit them for a time.

I read in scripture of two certifications; one to the Romans; "We being justified by faith have peace with God."

If I see the blood of Christ with the eye of my soul, that is, true faith, that his blood was shed for me, &c.

ANOTHER in the epistle of St. John: "We know that we are translated from death to life, be|cause we love the brethren." But I read not that I have peace with God, or that I am translated from death to life, because I see with my bodily eye the blood of Hailes. It is very probable, that all the blood that was in the body of Christ, was united and knit to his Divinity, and then no part thereof shall return to his corruption. And I marvel that Christ shall have two resurrections. And if it were that they did violently and injuriously pluck it out of his body when they scourged him and nailed him to the cross, did see it with their bodily eye, yet they were not in clean life. And we see the self|same blood in form of wine, when we have conse|crated, and may both see it, feel it, and receive it to our damnation, as touching bodily receiving. And many do see it at Hailes without confession, as they say. God knoweth all, and the devil in our time is not dead.

CHRIST hath left a doctrine behind him, wherein we be taught how to believe, and what to believe; he doth suffer the devil to use his craftiness, for our trial and probation. It were little thank-worthy to believe well and rightly, if nothing should move us to false faith, and to believe superstitiously. It was not in vain that Christ, when he had taught truly, by and by said, Beware of false prophets, who would bring in error slily. But we be secure and careless, as though false prophets could not meddle with us, and as if the warning of Christ were no more earnest and effectual, than is the warning of mothers when they trifle with their children, and bid them beware the bugg, &c.

LO, sir, now I run at riot beyond measure. When I began, I was minded to have written but half a dozen lines; but thus I forget myself, when|ever I write to a trusty friend, who will take in worth my folly, and keep it from mine enemy, &c.

AS for Dr. Wilson, I know not what I should say; but I pray God endue him with charity. Neither he nor any of his countrymen, did ever love me, since I did inveigh against their factions, and partiality in Cambridge. Before that, who was more favoured of him than I? That is the bile that may not be touched, &c.

A certain friend shewed me, that Dr. Wilson is gone now into his country, about Beverly, in Hol|derness, and from thence he will go a journey thro' York-shire, Lancashire, Cheshire, and so from thence to Bristol. What he intended by this pro|gress, God knoweth, and not I. If he come to Bristol, I shall hear, &c.

AS for Hubberdin (no doubt) he is a man of no

great learning, nor yet of stable wit. He is here Servus Hominum; for he will preach whatsoever the bishops will bid him preach. Verily in my mind they are more to be blamed than he. He doth magnify the pope more than enough. As for our Saviour Christ and christian kings, they are little beholding to him. No doubt he did miss the cushion in many things. However, they that did send him, men think, will defend him; I pray God amend him and them both. They would fain make matter against me, intending so either to deliver him by me, or else to rid us both together, and so they would think him well bestowed, &c.

AS touching Dr. Powel, how highly he took upon him in Bristol, and how little he regarded the sword, which representeth the king's person, many can tell you. I think there is never an earl in this realm that knoweth his obedience by Christ's command|ment to his prince, and knoweth what the sword doth signify, that would have taken upon him so stoutly. However Mr. Mayor, as he is a profound wise man, did flout prettily; it were too long to write all. Our pilgrimages are not a little behold|ing to him; in favour of which he alledged this text: Whoever leaveth father, house, wife, &c. By that you may perceive his hot zeal and crooked judgment, &c. Because I am so belied, I could wish that it would please the king's grace to command me to preach before his highness a whole year to|gether every Sunday, that he himself might per|ceive how they belie me, saying, that I have neither learning nor utterance worthy thereunto, &c. I pray you pardon me, I cannot make an end.

A brief Digression concerning the railing of Mr. HUB|BERDIN against Mr. LATIMER.

FORASMUCH as mention hath been made in this letter of Mr. Hubberdin, an old divine of Oxford, a right painted pharisee, and a great strayer abroad in all quarters of the realm, to deface and impeach the purity of God's gospel, something will be added more concerning that man, whose doings and pageants, if they might be described at large, it were as good as an interlude for the reader to be|hold. Who in all his life, and in all his actions, (in one word to describe him) seemeth nothing else but a right image or a counterfeit, setting out unto us in lively colours the pattern of perfect hypocrisy. But because the man is now gone, to spare therefore the dead. (although he little deserved to be spared, who never spared to work what villainly he could against the true servants of the Lord) this shall be enough for example's sake, for all christian m••n necessarily to observe, how the said Hubberdin, after his long railing in all places against Luther, Melact|hon, Zuinglius, John Frith, Tindal, Latimer, and all other like professors, after his hypocritical open alms given out of othe•• men's purses, his long prayers, devout fastings, his mean habit, and other his prodigious demeanor, riding in his long gown down to the horse-heels like a pharisee, or rather like a sloven dirted up to the horse's belly, after 〈◊〉〈◊〉 forged tales and fables, dialogues, dreams, dancings, hoppings and leaping, with other player-like toys and gestures used in the pulpit, and all against he|retics; at last riding by a church side, where the youth of the parish were dancing in the church|yard, he suddenly alighting from his horse, by the occasion of their dancing, came into the church, and there causing the bell to toll in the people, thought instead of a fit of mirth, to give them a sermon of dancing. In which sermon, after he had patched up certain common texts out of the scriptures, and then coming to the doctors, first to Augustine, then to Ambrose, so to Jerome and Gregory, Chrysostom, and other doctors, had made them every one (after his dialogue manner) by name to answer to his call, and to sing after his tune for the probation of the sacrament of the altar against John Frith, Zuing|lius, Oecolampadius, Luther, Tindal, Latimer, and other heretics (as he called them): at last to shew a perfect harmony of these doctors together, as he had made them before to sing after his tune, so now to make them dance also after his pipe, first he call|eth out Christ and his apostles, then the doctors and ancient seniors of the church, as in a round ring all to dance together; with pipe up Hubberdin. Now dance Christ, now dance Peter, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, now dance Augustine, Ambrose, Jerome▪ and th•••• old Hub|berdin, as he was dan••ing with his do••tors▪ lustily in the pulpit against the heretics, how he st••mped and took on I cannot tell, but crash came the pulpit, down cometh the dancer, and there 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Hubberdin, not dancing, but sprawling in the midst of his au|dience;

where although he brake not his neck, yet he brake so his leg at the same time, and bruised his old bones, that he never came in the pulpit more, and died not long after the same. Whereupon when the church-wardens were called, and charged for the pulpit not being stronger, they made answer again, excusing themselves that they had made their pulpit for preaching and not for dancing, &c. But to spend no more paper about this idle matter, now to our purpose again.

AMONGST many other accusers and adversaries, whereof there was no small sort which did infest this good man in sermons, some also there were which attempted the pen against him. In the number of whom was one Dr. Sherwood, who upon the same occasion of preaching of the virgin Mary (or as they thought against the virgin) did invade him with his pen, writing against him in Latin, whose long epi|stle, with Mr. Latimer's answer also in Latin to the same, hereunder followeth now translated into English.

LETTER From Dr. WILLIAM SHERWOOD to Mr. LATIMER. William Sherwood, Priest, to Mr. Latimer, Rector of West-Kingston, Grace and Peace from God the Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ.

WORTHY SIR,

PResuming you will not take it amiss to be christianly admonished by a christian, I have sent these lines, to reason with you about some things delivered by you in a sermon, or rather a satyre, lately preached at Greatfield, not much like a chris|tian: and first, concerning the parable of the thief and the shepherd, where you truly said, that our Saviour reproved the scribes and pharisees for the hardness of their hearts, but not openly, but secret|ly, and in general he did not say to every one of the scribes and pharisees, Ye are thieves and robbers; but what did he say? Why, verily I say unto you, he who enters not by the door into the sheepfold, but climbeth in some other way, the same is a thief and a robber: on the contrary, you openly declare all popes, bishops, and priests, to be thieves and robbers (yourself, and a few of the refuse of the people excepted); thus you have preached or de|ceived the people: but perhaps you meant it for an hyperbole, if so, it was a very cruel and unjust one. My brother, we are not so rashly to judge before the time (if we may believe St. Paul) when the Lord shall come, who will bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and manifest the counsels of the heart: also Christ himself, whom the Father has appointed Judge both of the living and the dead, in Matthew, seems to forbid the rash judging of our neighbour, where he says, Judge not that ye be not judged, for with what judgment ye judge ye shall be judged, and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measur|ed to you again, and such like.

I would have vice exposed, but I would not have light put for darkness, nor darkness for light; nor that good should be called evil, and evil good, sweet bitter, and bitter sweet. If this should be, then each in his turn would devour one another. But I need urge this no farther, the thing itself appears so plain, we know your designs, and what notice has been taken of them. Alas! alas! Latimer, what madness urged you to preach, or lie, saying, There are more thieves than shepherds, more goats than sheep? St. Cyprian said otherwise, Let God be true, and every man a liar, the greater number of christians is still best, more are those who keep the faith entire than those the devil has seduced: you also cry out against those things which the church hath in the highest reverence, 〈…〉〈…〉 have been brought in by those who have suffered for the name of Christ. For you say, any man who like Peter did confess Christ to be the Son of the living God, has as much power as Peter, and that the church there mentioned signifies any congregation; so that Peter was no more Christ's supreme vicar on earth than any other christian. St. Origen says, we are like Peter, if we make the same confession as he did, namely, Thou art the Son of the living God, not by flesh and blood revealed unto us, but by the Father who is in heaven illuminating our minds; shall we say that these words are of as great force as those spoke to Peter himself? No, no. For after the name of Christ all his faithful servants are called, as says the prophet, that he might save his Christs, and again, Touch not my Christs. The word•• here used differ from those which only signify anoint|ed.

Erasmus (whom you follow and imitate in many things) in his annotations on the 16th chapter of St. Matthew, upon these words, Thou art Peter, &c. says very justly, that he was the first Roman pontiff and head of the christian faith. But if, like you, we should say this of all christians equally with Peter, we should fall into that error of Luther, that all christians are priests, and that after ordination they have no more power than before, that only licensing them to exercise i••. But this has been condemned by the church a great while ago.

ON those words of Christ, where he says, The least of these precepts, you say he alludes to the wickedness of the scribes and pharisees, who to raise their own traditions, called the divine command|ments, The least commandments: but here you differ widely from Origen, a diligent interpreter of scripture, who in his homily on the fifth of St. Mat|thew, says, Some precepts may be called least, since from the observation of them it is said, some shall be great in the kingdom of heaven.

YOU find fault because we say that Christ went up into the mount only with a few disciples, the multitude, the scribes and pharisees not being wor|thy to hear that divine sermon; you have subjoined (not much like a christian, I think) that a christian man who hath any carnal desires, is no more a chris|tian than a Jew or a Turk, this seems to me not like a christian, but Oecolampadian—

[Some things are here wanting, which per|haps may be supplied from Mr. Latimer's answer.]

THIS was needful to bring back the Germans to the beneficial confession of Peter; what it is you here drive at I do not know; is it his supremacy, truly every catholic is obliged to defend it with all his strength; had not Peter the supremacy, the words of Christ are of no effect, (I give thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven, &c) if there is no need to defend the supremacy of Peter, there is no need to defend the truth, for which every one ought to contend even to death. I cannot think the Ger|mans can be brought to a beneficial confession of Peter without acknowledging his supremacy; is Christ the Son of the living God? The Son of God is truth, but Christ is not truth if Peter ha•• no supremacy. What a foul fall is here, for no advantage can come from the confession of Christ to that man who will not preserve and defend the apos|tolic chair with all his might: you say this is one of the most bare-faced lies, that Christ was in the mountain only with a few disciples. Origen, the most accurate interpreter of scripture, in his sermon on the fifth of St. Matthew, says plainly as I say, Jesus went down from the mountain, and there fol|lowed many multitudes; the disciples were with him in the mount, for to them it was given to know the secrets of his heavenly doctrine, the knowledge of salvation, which makes the heart of the most brutish to rejoice; they were to spread abroad the light of truth, to enlighten the eyes of those blinded with the thick darkness of worldly delight, whence it was our Lord said to them, Ye are the salt of the earth, ye are the light of the world: but now de|scending from the mount, the multitudes followed him; into the mountain none were able to ascend to hear those sublime mysteries, but those who had cast away the burden of all worldly delights. Thus you hear how Origen approves of mine and not of your interpretation.

YOU have found out certain false preachers, who I know not, howsoever they are well known to you, who persuade the people it is enough for a christian to believe as the church believe, though at the same time they know neither what nor how the church believes, so the miserable vulgar are deterred from seeking after a larger knowledge of God; that there are such preachers we are beholden to the Lutheran and heretic churches, they cannot possibly be in ours, since the bridegroom hath promised never to desert his spouse the church. What you have said else I pass over as mere jests. It is plain, that, lastly, you say I argue philosophically of the justifi|cation of faith, and yet you cannot overthrow my argument, but whether it is arguing philosophically, to say we are not justified by faith only, but rather by works done in faith and charity? If this is to argue like a philosopher, then I am one, and not I only, but St. James also. Faith is, I confess, as St. Augustine rightly saith, the root and foundation of a holy life, which is the performance of all good

by which we are justified; let no man think that faith alone is able to justify exclusive of all good and pious works, the rest seeing I have forgot, I pass over; I shall only add, if thou dost well, shalt thou not be rewarded? but if thou dost ill, sin lieth at thy door. When I have more leisure I shall write more fully of those things, till when fare|wel.

WILLIAM SHERWOOD.

LETTER In answer to the foregoing, by Mr. Latimer.

HEALTH to you in abundance. I do not know, worthy sir, that I am so fierce as not to bear patiently any christian admonition, or so insensible, that when slandered, admonished, con|futed, condemned by calumny and lies, I should justify myself; what if I should answer your letter with the same liberty you take? But I forbear, lest instead of convincing I provoke your passion; rather God give us both wisely to know him, and to me patience worthy of a christian amidst so many af|flictions, and to you a right judgment, that you be not transported too far by an over hot zeal. I thought this prayer better than any apology for answering you, being withal so busy in writing a sermon which I must preach the day after to-mor|row, that I have no more leisure than there is obli|gation, to answer all your heap of lies; but that I may satisfy you a little, I will say a few things to a great many. And first, the thing is what I have said, and what you say I have said. And here you are so hard put to it, that, as the saying is, you are forced to skin a flint; but so it is, that through all you say there runs a continued strain of rage and malice. Suppose I said, that all popes, bishops, and priests, entering not by the door into the sheepfold, but climbing up some other way, were thieves and robbers; the stress lays on their enter|ing and climbing up, not on their persons or titles; and I say no more than what Christ himself says: hence, you of your own head charge me with say|ing, that all popes, bishops, and priests, were thieves and robbers. Now (my brother) is this fairly to be collected from what I said? May not I justly apply to you that of St. Paul to the Romans, So they say we said, but they speak evil of us, and their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 is just; and yet St. Paul's adver|saries 〈…〉〈…〉 justly draw their conclusions from what he said, than you can from what I said. If the word of God is the same as it was at first, and the ministers of that word are as acceptable to him now as they were then, doth not the same damnation remain for their calumniators? But there is a great difference, you say, between saying all that enter not by the door are thieves and robbers, and saying simply, that all were thieves and robbers. But whence comes it, I beseech you, that whilst I say all that enter not by the door, should seem to you simply to say all in general; unless more seem to you to ascend some other way, than to enter by the door, though you are too wise to own it? And if it is so, there is no wonder there should be more thieves than shepherds. For whether you will own it or not, it is true that whoever enter not by the door are thieves and robbers, whether they be popes, bish|ops, or priests. You say our Saviour reproved the scribes and pharisees privately, but the scriptures says that to their face; and before a great multi|tude he said unto them, Woe unto you, scribe•• and pharisees, hypocrites, &c.

YOU advise me not to judge lest I be judged, and this ought to teach you how necessary it is for liars to have good memories, lest your throat be cut with your own sword, and you fall into the pit you had dug for others, for I think you pass your judg|ment upon me when you say, I account all thieves and robbers but myself and a few of the refuse of the peo|ple; you cry out that I have invaded the power of St. Peter, and of the keys, when I said not one word of the power of the keys, or made mention of St. Peter's supremacy: I told them not to build on a sandy foundation, but on the rock of Christ, not to be content with a dead faith, lest they endan|gered their own salvation, but to shew their faith by their works, that at the last they may attain everlasting life. You know well what Luther's sentiments were of the church, and I can readily subscribe to what Lyra, after many others, says on the 16th of St. Matthew, That the church doth not consist of men great either by ecclesiastical or civil power, for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 have found that many princes and pope•• hav•• ••postatised from the faith, but of such who have a true knowledge both of the

faith and truth of the christian religion With him agree St. Jerome and St. Chrysostom, who say, there are some more ready to defend the supremacy of St. Peter, a thing of no necessity, than to make that blessed confession which would be of real use: you dare to say, that Christ, when he called some of the commandments least, did not allude to the impiety of the pharisees, and that because you had read Origen had otherwise interpreted it; but may not one and the same place of scripture be differently expounded by different persons? Because Origen took no notice of this allusion, doth it therefore follow that nobody else should; when Christ him|self tells them that they made the commandments of God of no effect by their traditions? Again, except your righteousness exceed the righteousness of the scribes and pharisees, ye shall in no case enter the kingdom of heaven; you say, Christ preached his sermon on the mount only to a few of his disciples; this is plainly to contradict the scripture. In the 7th of St. Matthew it is said, that having ended these sayings, they were astonish|ed at his doctrine, for he taught them as one that had authority. Who was it that were astonished? Why St. Luke will tell you it was the multitude that heard him, chapter the 7th, when he had end|ed all his sayings in the audience of the people; as to that of blaming any person for believing as the church believes, it is either your ill will which made you deaf, or else you were willing to hear what was never spoke. What I said was, that many false preachers tell the people to believe as the church believes, when they are ignorant in what manner the church believes. As to what, lastly, you call so inhuman, see St. Jerome on the 26th of St. Matthew, I say a christian, that is, one admitted into the church by baptism, if he answers not his profession, but give•• himself up to fleshly desires, is in respect of eternal life which is promised to christians, no more a christian than a Jew or a Turk; yea, I say his condition shall ••e worse at the last day, if he says true, who says, It was better never to have known the way of truth, than after they have known, to fall away; it is the duty of a preacher to exhort all so to live with Christ here, that they may reign with him hereafter, otherwise (whatever they may think) they are no christians, so the interpreters of the scriptures speaks, but this seems to you heretical, for a co|vetous man, a fornicator, or a murderer, with you is a good catholic, and a servant of Christ, but these are also servants of sin and the devil, therefore they can serve two masters, which was what Christ did not know. If so, a dead faith may be catholic, and devils may be members of the catholic church, as being those, who according to St. James believe and tremble. You say a fornicator believes in Christ, he who believes in Christ shall not perish, but have everlasting life: also St. Paul writing to the Galatians, which had erred from the faith, calls them a church, and to the Corinthians, in one chapter, calls them both carnal persons and the temple of God, because some were good and some bad, the evangelical n••t gathering of all sorts. Now, pray, is it a crime to exhort all to do good and not evil? If your discourse is no gentler than your letter, I desire I may hear none of it, but all bitterness, anger, and evil-speaking, with all ma|lice, being taken from you, neither your discourse nor writing would be burdensome to me. I believe you desire no such auditors as yourself, and unless God gives you a better disposition, I shall never desire you to be one of mine.

LETTER From Mr. LATIMER to Dr. SHERWOOD.

MAY the Spirit of truth be with you. I have read your letter through carefully, but it is more worthy of the flames than of my perusal, it abounds so much with slanders. What you have truly said you shall soon see. It is now a great ••••ile ago since several persons, who heard the sermon preached at Marchfield, told me, you being present suffered the person openly, and with authority, to say that those were unworthy and miserable wretch|es who saluted the virgin mother of God with the angelic salutation, unless they could raise her up again that she might bear Christ. I said, this was neither christianly nor religiously done▪ had you not been there; for we ought not to offend pious christians, who may not believe just as we do. Now whether this was slandering, or not, rather giving pious and religious advice, &c.

[The remaining part of this letter is vin••dicating

himself from the same things as the former, and almost in the same words, which for brevity's sake we omit.]

LETTER From Mr. LATIMER to Sir EDWARD BAYNTON. Knt.

RIGHT worshipful sir, I recommend myself un|to you, with hearty thanks for your friendly, charitable, and mindful remembrance of so poor a wretch. Whereas of late I received your letters by Mr. Bonnam, and perceiving therein who are grieved with me, and what behoveth me to do in case I must needs come up, for which your goodness towards me, whereas I myself am not able to re|compense, I shall not cease to pray to my Lord God, who is both able, and also doth indeed re|gard all them that favou•• the favourers of his truth for his sake; for the truth is a common thing, per|taining to every man, for which every man shall answer another day. And I desire favour neither of your mastership, nor of any man else, but in the truth and for the truth, I take God to witness, which knoweth all.

IN very deed Mr. Chancellor did shew me, that my lord bishop of London had sent letters to him for me; and I made answer that he was mine ordinary, and that he might and should reform me as far as I needed reformation, as well and as soon as my lord of London. And I would be very loth (now this deep winter) being so weak and so feeble, (not only exercised with my old disease in my head and side, but also with new, both the cholic and stone) to take such a journey▪ and though he might so do, yet he needed not, for he was not bound so to do. Notwithstanding I said, if he, to do my lord of London pleasure, to my great displeasure, would needs command me to go, I would obey his command, yea, though it should be ever so great a grievance and painful to me. With which answer he was content, saying, he would certify my lord of London thereof, trusting his lordship would be content with the same.

M••. CHANCELLOR also said, that my lord of London seemed greatly displeased with me, because I contemned his authority at my last being in Lon|don. Forsooth, I preached in 〈◊〉〈◊〉-church, not certain then (as I remember) whether in his dioces•• or no, intending nothing less than to contemn his authority; and this I did at the request of honest merchantmem, as they seemed to me, whose names I do not know, for they were not of my acquaint|ance before; and I am glad thereof for their sakes, lest if I knew them, I should be compelled to utter them so, and their good desire to hear godly preach|ing should turn to their trouble; for they required me very earnestly, and to say the truth, very im|portunately. Whether they were of that parish or no, I was not certain: but they shewed not only themselves, but also many others, to be very desir|ous to hear me, pretending great hunger and thirst of the word of God, and spiritual doctrine And upon consideration, and to avoid all inconveniences, I put them off, and refused them twice or thrice, till at last they brought me word, that the p••rson and curate were not only content, but also desired me; notwithstanding that they certified him both of my name plainly, and also that I had not the bishop's seal to shew for me, but only a license of the university: which curate did receive me, wel|comed me, and when I should go into the pulpit, gave me the common benediction; so that I had been not only uncharitable, but also churlishly uncharitable, if I should have said nay. Now all this supposed to be truth, (as it is) I marvel great|ly how my lord of London can alledge any contempt of him in me.

FIRST, He did never inhibit me in my life; and if he did inhibit his curate to receive me, what pertaineth that to me, who did neither know there|of, nor yet made any suit to the curate deceitfully; nor did it appear to me very likely, that the curate would so little have regarded my lord's inhibition, which he maintaineth so vigilantly, not knowing my lord's mind before. Therefore I conjectured with myself, that either the curate was of such acquaintance with my lord, that he might admit whom he would; or else (and rather) that it was a train and a trap laid before me, to the intent that

my lord himself, or some pertaining to him, ap|pointed to have been there, and to have taken me if they could in my sermon; which conjecture both occasioned me somewhat to suspect those men which desired me, though they spake ever so fair and friendly, and also rather to go. For I preach no|thing, but if it might be so, I would my lord himself might hear me every sermon I preach. So certain I am, that it is truth which I take in hand to preach. If I had with power of my friends (the curate gainsaying and withstanding me) presumed to have gone into the pulpit, there had been some|thing wherefore to pretend a contempt. I preach|ed in Kent also, at the earnest request of a curate; yet I do not hear that this ordinary layeth any contempt to my charge, or yet doth trouble the curate.

I marvel not a little how my lord bishop of London, having so large and populous a diocese committed to his charge, can have leisure for preach|ing and teaching the word of God, opportunely and pressingly, in season and out of season, public|ly and privately, to his own flock, in persuading, confuting, exhorting, and admonishing with all mildness and doctrine, have leisure (I say) either to trouble me, or to trouble himself with me, so poor a wretch, a stranger to him, an•• nothing pertaining to his cure, but as every man pertaineth to every man's cure, so intermixing and intermed|dling himself with another man's cure, as though he had nothing to do in his own. If I would do as some men say my lord doth, gather up riches, warily and covetously, and yet neither preach for it in mine own cure, nor elsewhere, peradventure he would deny me nothing. In the very deed I did admo|nish both judges, and ordinaries, to use charitable equity in their judgments towards such as be accused, namely, of such accusers, who be as like to hear and betray, as others be to say amiss, and to take men's words in the meaning thereof, and not to wrest them in another sense than they were spoken in: for all such accusers and witnesses do evil before God, as St. Jerome saith, upon the 26th chapter of St. Matthew. Nor yet do I account those judges well advised, who wittingly will give sentence after such witnesses, much less those who procure such witnesses against any man: nor do I think judges now-a-days so deeply confirmed in grace, or so impeccable, but that it may become preachers to admonish them to do well, as well as other men both great and small. And this I did, occasioned of the ••pi••••e which I declared, Rom. vi. wherein is this sentence: Ye are not under the law but under grace: ye christian men that believe in Christ, are not under the law. What a saying is this, (says I) if it be not rightly understood, that is, as St. Paul did understand it? for the words sound as though he would go about to occasion christian men to break the law, seeing they be not under the law: and what if pseudo-apostles, ad|versaries to St. Paul, would have so taken them, and accused St. Paul to my lord of London? If my said lord would have heard St. Paul declare his own mind of his own words, then he should have escaped, and the false apostles put to rebuke; if he would have rigorously followed whatsoever was alledged and proved, and have given sentence after relation of the accusers, then good St. Paul must have borne a faggot at Paul's Cross, my lord of London being his judge. O, it had been a godly sight to have seen St. Paul with a faggot on his back, even at Pauls Cross, my lord of London, bishop of the same, sitting under the cross. Nay, verily I dare say, my lord would sooner have burned him, for St. Paul did not mean that christian men might break the law, and do whatsoever they would, because they were not under the law: but he did mean, that christian men might keep the law, and fulfil the law, if they would, because they were not under the law, but under Christ, by whom they were divided from the tyranny of the law, and above the law, that is to say, able to fulfil the law, to the pleasure of him that made the law, which they could never do of their own strength, and without Christ: so that to be under the law after 〈…〉〈…〉, is to be weak to satisfy the law, and w••••t could St. Paul do with all, though his adversaries would so take it? But peradventure my 〈◊〉〈◊〉 would say, that men will not take the 〈…〉〈…〉 other|wise than they mean therein. W••ll said; as though St. Paul's 〈…〉〈…〉▪

as it appeareth in the third chapter of the Romans, where he saith, Our unrighteousness commendeth and maketh more excellent the righteousness of God, which soundeth to many as though they should be evil, that good should come of it, and by unrighteousness to make the righteousness of God more excellent. So St. Paul was reported to mean; yet he did mean nothing so, but shewed the inestimable wisdom of God, who can use our haughtiness to the manifestation of his unspeakable goodness; not that we should do naughtily to that end and purpose. Now my lord will not think (I dare say) that St. Paul was to blame that he spake no more circumspectly, more warily, or more plain|ly, to avoid evil offence of the people; but rather he will blame the people, for not taking better heed, and not giving more attendance to St. Paul's speaking, for the better understanding thereof: yea, he will rather pity the people, who have been so long misled by the doctrine of the pharisees, and wallowed so long in the darkness of man's traditions, superstitions, and trade of living, that they were unapt to receive the bright light of the truth and wholesome doctrine of God, uttered by St. Paul. Nor do I think my lord will require more circum|spection, or more convenience to avoid offence of errors in me, than was St. Paul, when he did not escape malevolous corrections, and slanderous re|ports of them that were of perverse judgments, who reported him to say whatsoever appeared to them to follow of his saying; but what followeth? So they report us to say, saith St. Paul, so they speak evil of us; but such whose damnation is just, saith he; and I think the damnation of all such as report evil of preachers now-a-days, likewise just, for it is untruth now, as it was then. Yea, Christ himself was misreported, and falsely accused, both as touching his words, and also concerning the meaning of his words. First, he said, Destruite, that is to say, Destroy you: they made it Possum destruere; that is to say, I can destroy: he said Templum hoc, This Temple; they added, Ma|nu factum, that is to say, Made with hand, to bring it to a contrary 〈◊〉〈◊〉. So they both inverted his words, and also added unto his words, to alter his sentence: for he did mean the temple of his body, and they wrested it to Solomon's temple. Now I report me, whe|ther it be a just ••ame raised up and dispersed after this manner. Nay, verily, for there be three man|ner of persons which can make no credible informa|tion: first, adversaries and enemies; secondly, ig|norant, and without judgment; thirdly, susurrones, that is to say, whisperers, and blowers in men's ears, who will spue out in secret discourse, more than they dare avow openly. The first will not, the se|cond cannot, the third dare not: therefore the rela|tion of such is not credible, and therefore they can make no fame lawful, nor occasion any impartial judge to make process against any man; and it maketh no little matter what they be themselves that report of any man, whether well or evil; for it is a great commendation to be evil spoken of by them that be nought themselves, and to be com|mended by them, is many times no small reproach. God send us once grace to wish well one to another, and to speak well one of another.

METHINKS it were more comely for my lord (if it were comely for me to say so) to be a preacher himself, having so great a cure as he hath, than to be a disturber and troubler of preachers, and to preach nothing at all himself. If it would please his Lordship to take so great a labour and pain at any time, as to come and preach in my little bishop|ric, at West-Kingston, whether I was present or ab|sent myself, I would thank his lordship heartily, and think myself greatly bounden to him, that he of his charitable goodness would go so far to help me in my cure, or else I were more unnatural than a beast unreasonable: nor yet would I dispute, contend, or demand by what authority, or where he had autho|rity so to do, as long as his preaching were fruitful, and to the edification of my parishioners. As for my lord, he may do as it pleaseth his lordship. I pray God he do always as well as I would wish him ever to do. But I am sure St. Paul saith in the first chapter to the Philippians, that in his time some preached Christ for envy of him, thinking thereby so to grieve him withal, and as it were to obscure him, and to bring his authority into contempt; some of good will and love, thereby to comfort him: notwithstanding, (saith he) by all manner of ways, and after all fashions, whether it be of occasion or of truth, as you would say for truth's sake, so that Christ be preached and shewed, I joyed and will joy. So much he regarded more the glory of Christ, and the promotion of Christ's doctrine, to the edifi|cation

of christian souls, than the maintenance of his own authority, reputation, and dignity, considering right well, (as he said) that what authority soever he had, it was to edification, and not to destruction. Now I think it were no reproach to my lord, but very commendable, rather to joy with St. Paul, and be glad that Christ is preached 〈◊〉〈◊〉 whatsoever man|ner, yea, though it were for envy, that is to say, in disdain, despight, and contempt of his lordship, (which thing no man well advised will attempt) than when the preaching cannot be proved justly, to de|mand of the preacher austerely, as the pharisees did of Christ, By what authority do you these things, and who gave you this authority? As my autho|rity is good enough, and as good as any my lord can give me, yet I would be glad to have his also, if it would please his lordship to be so good unto me. For the university of Cambridge hath authority apostolic to admit twelve yearly, of which I am one: and the king's highness, God save his grace, hath decreed, that all admitted of universities, should preach throughout all his realm, as long as they preached well, without interruption; my lord of Canterbury, my lord of Durham, with many such others stood by, heard the decree▪ and also gave their consent to the same. Now to contemn my lord of London's authority, were no little fault in me; so no less fault might appear in my lord of London, to contemn the king's authority and de|cree, yea, so godly, so fruitful, so commendable a decree, pertaining both to the edification of christian souls, and also to the regard and defence of the po|pish grace and authority apostolic. To have a book of the king not inhibited, is to obey the king, and to inhibit a preacher of the king's admitted, is it not to disobey the king? Is it not one king that doth inhibit and admit, and hath he not as great autho|rity to admit as to inhibit? He that resisteth the power, whether a••••itting or inhibiting, doth he not resist the ordinance of God? We low subjects are bound to obey powers, and their ordinances: and are not the highest subjects also, who ought to give us example of such obedience? As for my preaching itself, I trust in God, my lord of London cannot justly blame, nor reprove it; if it be taken with the circumstance thereof, and as I spake it, or else it is not my preaching, but his that falsely re|porteth it, as the poet Martial said, to one that de|praved his book,

To me, 'tis true, you say those lines belong▪ But they're your own, whilst you repeat th•••• wrong.

BUT now I hear say that my lord of London is in|formed, and upon the said information hath inform|ed the king, that I go about to defend Bilney, and his cause, against his ordinaries and his judges, which I assure you is not so: for I had nothing to do with Bilney, nor yet with his judges, except his judges did him wrong; for I did nothing else but admonish all judges indifferently to do right; n•••• am I altogether so foolish as to defend the thing which I knew not. It might have become a preach•••• to say as I said, though Bilney had never been born▪ I have known Bilney a great while, I think much better than ever I did my lord of London: for •• have been his spiritual father many times; and to tell you the truth, what I have thought always 〈◊〉〈◊〉 him, I have known hitherto few such so prompt and ready to do every man good according to his power, both friend and foe, and willingly offending no man; in short, he was a very good and pious soul▪ in nothing fit for this wretched world, for the blind|ness of which he would lament and bewail as much as any man that I ever knew: as for his singular learning, as well in holy scripture as in all good letters, I will not speak of it. Notwithstanding, if either now of late, or at any time, he attempted any thing contrary to the obedience which a christian man doth owe either to his prince or to his bishop, I neither do nor will allow and approve that, neither in him, or any other man; we are all men, and liable to fall; wherefore he that standeth, let him beware he fall not. How he ordered or misorder|ed himself in judgment, I cannot tell, nor will I meddle with it; God knoweth, whose judgments I will not judge. But I cannot but wonder, if a man living so mercifully, so charitably, so patiently, so continently▪ so studiously and virtuously, and killing his old Adam, that is to say, mortifying his evil affections, and blind motions of his heart so dili|gently, should die an evil death, there is no more, but let him that standeth beware that he fall not: for if such as he shall die evil, what shall become of me, such a wretch as I am? But let this go, as little to the purpose, and come to the point we must rest upon. Either my lord of London will judge my outward man only, as it is said, Man seeth those

things that are without, or else he will be my God, did judge my inward man, as it is said, But God seeth the heart. If he will have to do only with mine outward man, and meddle with mine outward conversation, how that I have ordered myself to|wards my christian brethren, the king's liege people, I trust I shall please and content both my Lord God, and also my lord of London; for I have preached and teached but according to holy scripture, holy fathers, and ancient interpreters of the same, with which I think my lord of London will be pacified: for I have done nothing else in my preaching, but with all diligence moved my auditors to faith and charity, to do their duty, and that which is neces|sary to be done. As for things of private devotion, mean things, and voluntary things, I have reproved the abuse, the superstition of them, without con|demnation of the things themselves, as it becometh preachers to do: which thing, if my lord of Lon|don, will do himself (as I wish to God he would), he should be reported, no doubt, to condemn the use of such things, of covetous men that have damage, and find less in their boxes by condemnation of the abuse, which abuse they said rather should continue still, than their profit should not continue (so thorny are their hearts). If my lord will needs coast and invade my inward man, and break violently into my heart, I fear I shall displease my lord of London (which I would not willingly do) or else my Lord God, which I shall be more loath to do: not for any infidelity, but for ignorance, for I believe as a christian man ought to believe: but peradventure my lord knoweth, and will know many things cer|tainly, which, perchance, I am ignorant in, with which ignorance, though my lord of London may if he will be discontent, yet I trust my Lord God will pardon it, as long as I hurt no man withal, and say to him with diligent study, and daily prayer, My heart is ready, O God, my heart is ready, so study|ing, and preaching, and tarrying the pleasure and leisure of God: and in the mean season, Acts viii. as Apollos did, when he knew nothing of Christ, but the baptism of John, teach and preach mine, even christian like, and no farther than I know to be true. There are three creeds, one in my mass, another in my mattins, the third common to them that neither say mass nor mattins, nor yet know what they say when they say the creed: and I believe all three, with all that God hath left in holy writ, for me and all others to believe; yet I am ignorant in things which I trust hereafter to know, as I do know things in which I have been ignorant hereto|fore: ever learn, and ever to be learned, to profit with learning, with ignorance not to offend. I have thought in times past, that the pope, Christ's vicar, hath been lord of all the world as Christ is, so that if he should have deprived the king of his crown, or you of the lordship of Bromeham, it had been enough; for he could no wrong. Now I might be hired to do otherwise; notwithstanding I have both seen and heard scripture drawn to that purpose. I have thought in times past, that the pope's dispen|sations of the pluralities of benefices, and absence from the same, had discharged consciences before God: forasmuch as I have heard, Lo! I am with you, and he who heareth you, bended to corroborate the same. Now I might be intreated to think other|wise, &c.

I have thought in times past, that the pope could have spoiled purgatory at his pleasure with a word of his mouth; now learning might persu•••••• me otherwise, or else I would marvel why he should suffer so much money to be bestowed that way, which is so needful to be bestowed otherwise, and to deprive us of so many patrons in heaven as he might deliver out of purgatory, &c. I have thought in times past, that if I had been a friar, and in a cowl, I could not have been damned, nor afraid of death, and by occasion of the same I have been minded many times to have been a friar, namely, when I was sore, sick, and diseased; now I abhor my super|stitious foolishness, &c. I have thought in times past, that divers images of saints could have helped me, and done me much good, and delivered me of my diseases: now I know that one can help as well as another. And it grieves my heart that my lord, and such as my lord is, can suffer the people to b•• so craftily deceived. It were too long to tell you what blindness I have been in, and how long it was ere I could forsake such folly, it was so incorporated in me: but by continual prayer, continual study of scripture, and oft communing with men of more right judgment, God hath delivered me, &c. Yea, men think my lord himself hath thought in times past, that by God's law a man might marry his brother's wife, which now both dare think and say the contrary: and yet this his boldness might have

chanced, in pope Julius's days, to stand him either in a fire, or else in a faggot. Which thing deeply considered and pondered by my lord, might some|thing stir him to charitable equity, and to be some|thing remiss towards men, which labour to do good as their power serveth with knowledge, and to do hurt to no man with their ignorance: for there is no greater distance than between God's law, and not God's law.

AND finally as you say, the matter is weighty, and ought substantially to be looked upon, even as weighty as my life is worth; but how to look sub|stantially upon it otherwise I know not, than to pray my Lord God day and night, that as he hath em|boldened me to preach his truth, so he will strengthen me to suffer for it, to the edification of them which have taken by the working of him fruit thereby; and even so I desire you, and all others that favour me for his sake, likewise to pray: for it is not I (without his mighty helping hand) that can abide that brunt; but I have trust that God will help me in the time of need, which if I had not, the ocean, I think, would have divided my lord of London and me by this day. For it is a rare thing for a preacher to have favour at his hand who is no preacher him|self, and yet ought to be. I pray God that he and I may both discharge ourselves, he in his great cure, and I in my little one, to God's pleasure, and safe|ty of our souls, Amen. I pray you pardon me, that I write no more distinctly, nor more truly, for my head is out of frame, that it would be too pain|ful for me to write it again; and if I be not pre|vented, I intend to make merry with my parishioners this Christmas, for all the sorrow, lest perchance I never return to them again: and I have heard say, that a doe is as good in winter as a buck in sum|mer.

LETTER From Sir EDWARD BAYNTON, Knight, in Answer to Bishop LATIMER.

MASTER LATIMER, after hearty recom|mendations, I have communicated the effect of your letters to divers of my friends, such as for christian charity (as they say) rather desire in you a reformation, either in your opinion, if it swerve from the truth, or at least in your manner and behaviour, inasmuch as it giveth occasion of slander and trouble, to the hindrance of your good purposes, than any other inconvenience to your person or good name. And forasmuch as your said letter misliketh them in some part, and that I have such confidence 〈◊〉〈◊〉 your christian breast, as in my judgment you will conformably and gladly both hear what may be re|formed in you, and also (as it is worthy) so acknow|ledge and confess the same: I have therefore de|sired them to take the pains to note their mind in this letter which I send you, as the sum of their say|ings, and sent from me your assured friend and favourer, in that which is the very truth of God's word: wherein nevertheless, as I trust you will temper your own judgment, and in soberness affirm no truth of yourself, which should divide the unity of the congregation in Christ, and the received truth agreed upon by holy fathers of the church, conso|nant to the scripture of God, even so whatsoever you will do therein, (as I think you will not do otherwise than you should do) I being unlearned, and not of the knowledge to give sentence in this altercation and contention, must rather of good con|gruence shew myself in that you disagree with them, readier to follow their doctrine in truth than your's, unless it may please Almighty God to inspire and confirm the hearts of such people to testify the same in some honest number, as ought to induce me to give credence unto them.

ONLY God knoweth the certain truth, which is communicated to us, as our capacity may understand it by faith, but that is through a glass darkly. And there have been those who have had a zeal of God, but not according to knowledge. Among whom I repute not you, but to this purpose I write it, that to call this or that truth, it requireth a deep and profound knowledge, considering that to me un|learned, what I take for truth may be otherwise, not having a sense exercised enough, as St. Paul sayeth, to discern good and evil: and it is shewed me, that an opinion or manner of teaching, which causeth dissention in a christian congregation, is not of God, by the doctrine of St. John in his epistle, where he saith, All who confess that Christ is come in the flesh, &c are of God. And like as the word of God hath always caused dissention among men unchris|tened, whereupon hath ensued and followed mar|tyrdom

to the preacher; so in Christ's congregation, among them that profess Christ's name, in one Lord, one baptism, and one faith, they that preach and stir rather contention than charity, though they can defend their saying, yet their teaching is not to be taken as of God, in that it breaketh the chain of christian charity, and maketh division in the people, congregate and called by God into an unity of faith and baptism. But for this point I would pray to God, that not only in the truth may be agreement, but also such soberness and uniform behaviour used in teaching and preaching, as men may wholly ex|press (as they may) the charity of God, tending only to the union and love of us all, to the profit and salvation of our souls.

EDWARD BAYNTON.

LETTER From Bishop LATIMER, in Answer to Sir EDWARD BAYNTON.

RIGHT worshipful sir, and my singular good master, &c. Whereas you have communi|cated my last letters to some of your friends, which rather this or that in me, &c. what I think therein I will not now say, not that there could be my peril or danger in the said letters (well taken) as far as I can judge, but for that they were rashly and unad|visedly scribbled, as you might well know both by my excuse, and by themselves also, though no ex|cuse had been made. And besides that, you know right well, that where the bee gathereth honey, even there the spider gathereth venom, not for any diversity of the flower, but for different natures in them that suck the flower: as in times past, and in the beginning, the very truth, and one thing in it|self was to some an offence, to some foolishness, to others otherwise disposed, the wisdom of God. Such difference there was in the hearers thereof.

BUT this notwithstanding, there is no more but either my writing is good or bad. If it be good, the communicating thereof to your friends cannot be hurtful to me; if it be otherwise, why should you not communicate it to them, who both could and would instruct you in the truth, and reform my error? Let this pass, I will not contend: "had I knew," ever cometh out of season. Truly I were not well advised if I would not either be glad of your instruction, or yet refuse mine own reforma|tion; but yet it is good for a man to look before he leap, and God forbid that you should be so ad|dict and sworn to me so wretched a fool, that you should not rather follow the doctrine of your friends in truth, so great learned men as they appear to be, than the opinions of me, having ever so christian a breast.

WHEREFORE do as you will: for as I would not if I could, so I cannot if I would, be noisome unto you; but yet I say I would my letters had been un|written, if for no other cause, at leastway inasmuch as they cause me more writing, an occupation not fitting my mad head. And as concerning points which in my aforesaid letters your friends mislike, I have little leisure now to make an answer thereto, for the great business that I have in my little cure: I know not what other men have in their great cures, seeing that I am alone without any priest to serve my cure, without any scholar to read unto me, without any book necessary to be looked upon, without learned men to come and counsel withal. All which things others have at hand abundantly, but something must be done, howsoever it be. I pray you take it in good worth as long as I temper my own judgment, affirming nothing with preju|dice of better. First, you mislike that I say I am sure I preach the truth, saying in reproof of the same, that God knoweth certain truth. Indeed God alone knoweth all certain truth, and God alone knoweth it as of himself, and none knoweth certain truth but God, and those who are taught of God, as St. Paul saith, for God hath made it plain to them: and Christ himself says, They shall all be taught of God: and your friends deny not but that certain truth is communicated to us, as our capa|city may comprehend it by faith, which if it be truth, as it is, then there ought no more to be re|quired of any man, but according to his capacity; now certain it is, that every man hath not like ca|pacity, &c.

BUT as to my presumption and arrogancy; either I am certain or uncertain that it is truth that I preach. If it be truth, why may I not say so, to

encourage my hearers to receive the same mo•••• ••••|dently, and pursue it more studiously? If 〈…〉〈…〉 uncertain, why dare I be so bold as to preach it▪ And if your friends, in whom you trust so greatly, be preachers themselves, after their sermon, I pray you ask them whether they be certain and sure that they have taught you the truth or no, and send me word what they say, that I may learn to speak after them. If they say they be sure, you know what followeth: if they say they be unsure, when shall you be sure, that have so doubtful and unsure teachers? And you yourself, whether are you cer|tain or uncertain that Christ is your Saviour, and so forth of other articles that you are bound to believe? Or whether are you sure or unsure, that civil ordi|nances are the good works of God, and that you do God service in doing of them, if you do them for a good intent? If you are uncertain, take heed he i•• your sure friend that heareth you say so, and then with what conscience do you doubt, seeing, Whatsoever is not of faith is sin? But contrary say you, God alone knoweth certain truth, and you have it but through a glass darkly; and there are some who have a zeal for God, but not according to knowledge: and to call this or that truth, it re|quireth a deep knowledge, considering that to you unlearned, what you take for truth may be other|wise, nor having a sense exercised to discern good and evil, as you reason against me, and so you do best to know surely nothing for truth at all, but to wander meekly here and there, with every wind of doctrine, &c. Our knowledge here, you say, is but through a glass darkly: what then? Ergo, it is not certain and sure.

I deny your argument by your leave; yea, if it be by faith, as you say, it is more sure, because the certainty of faith is the surest certainty, as Duns and other school doctors say▪ that there is a great disagreement between certain knowledge and clear knowledge; for that may be of things absent that appear not, this requireth the presence of the object, I mean of the thing known, so that I certainly and surely know the thing which I perfectly believe, though I do not clearly and evidently know 〈…〉〈…〉 know your school 〈◊〉〈◊〉 as well as you, which disput•• as though 〈◊〉〈◊〉 knowledge, that is to say, dark and obscure knowledge, might not be certain and sure knowledge▪ because it is not clear, manifest, and evident knowledge; and yet there have been (say they) which have had a zeal, but not after knowledge. True it is there have been such, and yet are too many to great hindrance of Christ's glory, which nothing doth more obscure, than a hot zeal accompanied with great authority without right judgment. There have been also, which have had knowledge without any zeal of God, who holding the verity of God in unrighteousness, shall be beaten with many stripes, while they knowing the will of God do nothing thereafter. I mean not among Turks and Saracens that be unchristened, but of them that be christened. And there have been also, they that have lost the spiritual knowledge of God's word which they had before, because they have not followed after it, nor promoted the same, but rather with their mother's wits have impugned the wisdom of the Father, and hindered the know|ledge thereof, which therefore hath been taken away from them; that Christ may be justified in his say|ings, and overcome when he is judged, threatening, Matth. xiii. To him that hath not, that also which he hath, that is, that which he seemeth to have, shall be taken from him: when as to abuse that which a man hath, or not to use it well, is as not to have it. And also seeing it is true, that God's wis|dom will not dwell in a body subject to sin, altho' he abound too much in carnal wisdom: yet the same carnal and philosophical understanding of God's scriptures, is not the wisdom of God, which is hid from the wise, and is revealed to little ones. And if to call this or that truth, requireth a deep and profound knowledge, then every man hath either a deep and profound knowledge, or else no man can tell this or that truth: and it behoveth every preacher to have this deep and profound knowledge, that he may call this or that truth, which this or that he taketh in hand to preach for the truth; and yet he may be ignorant and uncer|tain in many things, both 〈…〉〈…〉 as Apollos was: but which things, whether this or that, he will not attempt to preach for the truth. And as for myself, I trust in God I may hav•• 〈…〉〈…〉 exer|cised to discern good 〈…〉〈…〉 things, which without deep and profound knowledge in many things I preach not, yea there are many things in scripture in which I cannot ••ertainly discern good and evil, I mean true and fals••, not with all the ex|ercise I have in scripture, no•• y•••• with the help of

all the interpreters that I have, to content myself and others in all scruples that may arise: but in such I am wont to wade no further into the stream, than that I may either go over, or else return back again, ever having respect, not to the ostentation of my little wit, but to the edification of them that hear me, as far forth as I can, neither passing mine own nor yet their capacity.

AND such manner of arguments might well serve the devil against cowards, to occasion them to wan|der and waver in the faith, and to be uncertain in things in which they ought to be certain: or else it may appear to make and serve against such preachers as will define great subtleties and high matters in the pulpit, which no man can be certain and sure of by God's words to be truth, unless a man had a superlative sense to discern good and evil: as whe|ther, if Adam had not sinned, we should have had stock-fish out of Island; how many larks for a pen|ny if every star in the element were a flickering hobby: how many years a man shall lie in purga|tory for one sin, if he buy not plenty of the oil that runneth over our lamps to slake the sin with, and so forget hell which cannot be slaked, to provide for purgatory.

SUCH argumentation, I say, might appear to make well against such preachers, not against me, which simply and plainly utter true faith and the fruits of the same, which be the good works of God, which he hath prepared for us to walk in, every man to do the thing that pertaineth to his office and duty in his degree and calling, as the word appointeth; which thing a man may do with soberness, having a sense but indifferently exercised to discern good and evil. For it is but foolish humility, willingly to continue always an infant in Christ and in infir|mity. In reproof of which it was said, Ye have need of milk and not of strong meat. For St. Paul saith not▪ Be ye humble, that ye be not deceived. For though he would not that we should think ar|rogantly of ourselves, and above what it becometh us to think of ourselves, but so to think of ourselves that we may be sober and 〈◊〉〈◊〉; yet he biddeth us so think of ourselves. As God hath distributed to e••••ry one the 〈…〉〈…〉 For he that may not with meekness think in ••imself what God hath done to him, and of himself as God hath done for him, how shall he, or when shall he give due thanks to God for his gifts? And if your friends will not allow the same, I pray you inquire of them, whe|ther they may with sobriety and modesty follow St. Paul's advice, where he saith unto us all, Be not children in understanding, but in maliciousness be ye infants. God give us all grace to keep the mean, and to think ourselves neither too high nor too low, but so that we may restore unto him, who hath sent abroad his gifts again, with good use of the same, so that we do our part with the same, to the glory of God, Amen.

FOR my life, I trust in God that I neither (by God's grace) shall, neither in soberness, nor yet in drunkenness, affirm any truth of myself, therewith intending to divide that unity of the congregation of Christ, and the received truth agreed upon by the holy fathers of the church, consonant to the scripture of God, though it be shewed you ever so often, that an opinion or manner of teaching, which causeth dissention in a christian congregation, is not of God, by the doctrine of St. John in his epistle, where he saith, Every one that confesseth Christ hath come in the flesh, is of God. First, Not every thing whereupon followeth dissention, causeth dis|sention, as I would that they shewed you, that would also shew you, whether this opinion, that a man may not marry his brother's wife, be of God or of men: if it be of men, then as Gamaliel said, dissolve it; if it be of God, as I think it is, and perchance your friends also, who can dissolve it, but shall seem to repugn against God? And yet there may be many, not heathens, but in Christen|dom, that dissent from the same, which could bear full evil to hear said unto them. You are of the devil's side. So that such an opinion might seem to some to make a dissention in a christian congre|gation, saying that they may say perchance with more liberty than others, that an occasion is some|times taken and not given, which with their favour I might abuse for my defence, saying, that it is not granted unto all in these worst of times.

THE Galatians having for preachers and teachers the false apostles, by whose teaching they were de|generate from the sweet liberty of the gospel into the four bond of ceremonies, thought themselves, peradventure, a christian congregation, when St.

Paul did write his epistle unto them, and were in a quiet trade under the dominion of masterly curates, so that the false apostles might have objected to St. Paul, that his apostleship was not of God, forasmuch as there was a dissention in a christian congregation by occasion thereof▪ whilst some would renew their opinions by the occasion of the epistle, some would judge, as they were wont to do, and follow their great lords and masters the false apostles, which were not heathen and unchristened, but christened prelates of the professors of Christ. For your friends I know right well what Erasmus hath said in an epistle set before the paraphrases of the first epistle to the Corinthians, which Erasmus hath caused no small dissention with his pen in a christian congregation, inasmuch as many have dissented from him, not only in cloisters (men more than christened men) of high perfection, but also at Paul's cross, and St. Mary Spittle, besides many that with no small zeal have written against him, but not without an|swer.

AND I would fain learn of your friends, whether St. Jerome's writings were of God, which caused dissention in a christian congregation, as it appear|eth by his own words in the prologue before the canonical epistles, which be these: And whilst that you, Eustochium, virgin of Christ, inquire so ear|nestly of me the truth of the scripture, you seem in some measure to put off my old age, corroded with teeth and bites of the envious, who style me a falsi|ter and corrupter of scriptures; but I am not af|frighted at their envy in such a work, nor will deny the truth of the scriptures to those that require it. I pray you, what were they that called St. Jerome a falsiter and corrupter of scripture, and for envy would have bitten him with their teeth; unchristian or christian? What had the unchristian to do with the christian doctrine? They were worshipful fathers of a christian congregation, men of much hotter stomachs than right judgments, of a greater authority than good charity. But St. Jerome would not cease to do good for the evil speaking of them that were naught, giving in that an example to us of the same; and if this dissention were in St. Jerome's time, what may be in our time? From ill to worse.

AND I pray you what mean your friends by a christian congregation? All those (think you) that have been baptized? But many of those be in a worse condition, and shall have greater damnation than many unbaptized. For it is not enough to a christian congregation that is of God, to have been baptized: but it is to be considered what we promise when we are baptized, to renounce Satan, his works, his pomps. Which things if we busy not ourselves to do, let us not boast that we profess Christ's name in a christian congregation.

AND where they add, in one Lord: I read in Matt. xvii. Not every one that saith, Lord, Lord, &c. And in Luke, the Lord himself complaineth and rebuketh such professors and confessors, saying to them, Why call ye me Lord, and do not that I bid you? But I would your friends would take the pains to read over Chrysostom upon Mat. hom. xlix. cap. xxiv. to learn to know a christian con|gregation, if it will please them to learn of him. And where they add, in one faith, St. James saith boldly, Shew me thy faith by thy works. And St. Jerome, If we believe, we shew the truth in working. And the scripture saith, He that believ|eth God, attendeth to his commandments. And the devils do believe to their little comfort. I pray God to save you and your friends, from that be|lieving congregation, and from that faithful com|pany.

THEREFORE all this toucheth not them that be unbaptized, but them that be baptized, and an|swer not to their baptism. For St. Jerome sheweth how true preachers should order themselves, when evil priests and false preachers, and the people that be by them deceived, should be angr•• with them for preaching the truth, exhorting them to suffer death for the same, of the evil priests and false preachers, and the people deceived of them, which evil priests and false preachers, with the peo|ple deceived, be baptized as well as others. And I fear that St. Jerome might appear to some chris|tian congregation, as they will be called, to write seditiously, to divide the unity of a great honest number confessing Christ, in one baptism, one Lord, one faith, saying, The people which before were brought asleep by their masters, must go up

to the mountains, not such mountains which smoke when they are touched, but to the mountains of the Old and New Testament, the prophets, apostles, and evangelists. And when thou art occupied in reading in these mountains, if then thou find no instructors, (for the harvest is great▪ and the work|men few) yet shall the diligent study of the people be fleeing to the mountains, and the slothfulness of the masters shall be rebuked.

I do marvel why our christian congregations be so greatly grieved that lay-people would read the scripture, seeing that St. Jerome alloweth and ap|proveth of the same, which compareth not here the unchristened to the christened, but the lay-peo|ple christened to their curates christened, under which they have been rocked and locked asleep in a subtle trade a great while full soundly, though now of late they have been awaked, but to their pain, at least to the pain of those that awakened them with the word of God; and it is properly said of St. Jerome to call themselves masters and not ser|vants, meaning that servants teach not their own doctrine, but the doctrine of their master Christ, to his glory. Masters teach not Christ's doctrine, but their own, to their own glory; which masterly cur••tes cannot be quiet, till they have brought the people asleep again: but Christ, the very true master, saith, Watch and pray, lest ye enter into temptation. My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither my ways your ways, saith the Lord: and there be those who have gone about counsels, which they could not establish, I pray God give our people grace so to awake, that their works may be ap|proved, and our masters so to sleep, that their idleness do not rebuke them. For who is so blind as not to see how far our christian congregation doth gainsay St. Jerome, and speaketh after another manner? God amend what is amiss; for I understand we be something wide.

BUT now your friends have learned of St. John, That every one that confesseth Jesus Christ in the f••esh, is of God: and I have lea••ned of St. Paul, that there have been, not among the heathen, but among the christians, which confess Christ with their mouth, and deny him with their acts: so that St. Paul should appear to expound St. John, saying that I will not affirm any thing as of myself, but leave it to your friends to shew you, Whether they who in deeds deny Christ, are by the bare confes|sion of the mouth, of God: for your friends know well enough by the same St. John, He who is of God sinneth not: and there both have been, and now be, too many, who with the mouth only con|fess Christ to be come in the flesh; but will not effectually hear the word of God▪ by consenting to the same, notwithstanding that St. John saith, He who is of God, heareth God's word; you hear not, because you are not of God: and many shall hear, I never knew you, which shall not only be christen|ed, but also shall prophesy, and do powerful things in the name of Christ; and St. Paul said, there would come ravening wolves who will not spare the flock; meaning of them who should with their lips confess Christ in the flesh, and usurp by suc|cession the office, which Christ calleth false prophets, and biddeth us beware of them, saying, They shall come in sheep's clothing, and yet they may wear both sattin, silk, and velvet, called afterwards naughty servants, not feeding but smiting their fellow-servants, eating and drinking with the drunken, who shall have their portion with hypo|crites. They are called servants, I suppose, because they confess Christ in the flesh; and naughty they are called, because they deny him in their deeds, not giving meat in due season, and exercising mastership over the flock. And yet your friends reason as though there could none bark and bite at true preachers, but they that be unchristened, notwithstanding that St. Augustine, upon the same epistle of St. John, calleth such confessors of Christ, Antichrists, according to the doctrine of St. Paul, Hate that which is evil; and so making division, not between christened and unchristened, but be|tween christians and antichristians, when neither tongue nor pen can divide the antichristian from their blind folly. And I wish you would cause your friends to read over St. Augustine upon the epistle of St. John, and tell you the meaning there|of, if they think it expedient for you to know it, as I remember it is Tractatu iii. but I am not sure nor certain of that, because I did not see it since I was at Cambridge; and here I have not St. Au|gustine's works to look for it, but well I know

that there he teacheth us to know the christians from the antichristians, which both be christened, and both confess Jesus to be Christ, if they are ask|ed the question: and yet the one part denieth it in the very deed. But to know the difference, we must not stand upon our talk, but not attend to our doings and conversation of life, whether we not only do put our endeavour thereto, but also persuade ourselves as though it were not necessary for us to accomplish such things, &c. but that is not enough to bear rule and authority over them, and to bestow ourselves wholly upon secular mat|ters, pleasures, and pomps of this world. And yet we will appear, at the least to be of God alone, but they far otherwise confess Christ, who are ap|proved to be of God by their confession.

AND yet as long as they minister the word of God, or his sacraments, or any thing that God hath or|dained to the salvation of mankind, wherewith God hath promised to be present, to work with the ministration of the same to the end of the world, they to be heard, to be obeyed, to be honoured for God's ordinance sake, which is effectual and fruit|ful, whatsoever the minister be, though he be a devil, and neither church nor member of the same, as Origen saith, and Chrysostom; so that it is not all one to honour them and trust in them, St. Je|rome saith: but there is required a judgment to discern when they minister God's word and ordi|nance of the same, and their own, lest peradventure we take chalk for cheese, which will edge our teeth, and hinder digestion. For as it is commonly said, The blind eateth many a fly, as they did which were persuaded by the high priests to ask Barabbas and to crucify Jesus: and ye know that to follow the blind guides, is to come into the pit with the same. And will you know, saith Augustine, how pertly they resist Christ, when men begin to blame them for misliving, and intolerable secularity and negligence? They dare not for shame blaspheme the name of Christ himself, but they will blaspheme the ministers and preachers by whom they be blamed.

THEREFORE whereas you will pray for agreement both in the truth, and in uttering the truth, when shall that be, as long as we will not hear the truth, but disturb with crafty conveyance the preacher of the truth, because they reprove our wickedness with the truth? And, to say the truth, it were better to have a deformity in preaching, so that some would preach the truth of God, and that which is to be preached without detriment and adulteration of the word, (as Lyranus saith in his time few did, what they do now-a-days I refer to them that can judge) than to have such an uni|formity, that the silly people should be thereby occasion••d to continue still in ignorance, corrupt judgment, superstition and idolatry, and esteem things as they do all, preposterously, doing what they need not to do, and leaving undone what they ought to do, for lack of knowing what is to be done, and so shew their love to God, not as God commandeth, (who saith, If you love me, keep my commandments; and again, He that knoweth my precepts, and doth them, he loveth me) but they command, which seek their own things, not as Christ's; as though to tythe mint were more than judgment, faith and mercy.

AND what is to liye in state of curates, but that he taught which said, Peter, lovest thou me? feed, feed, feed; which is now set aside, as though to love, were to do nothing else but to wear rings, mitres, and rochets, &c. And when they err in right living, how can the people but err in lov|ing, which is now turned to piping, playing, and curious singing, which will not be reformed (I believe) unless by the strong hand of God. And I have both St. Augustine and St. Thomas, with divers others, that [law] is taken not only for ce|remonies, but also for morals, where it is said, ye are not under the law, though your freinds reprove the same. But they make no division in a christian congregation. And whereas both you and they would have a soberness in our preaching, I pray God send it unto us, whatsoever you mean by it. For I see well, whosoever will be happy▪ and busy with woe to you, he shall shortly after come before you.

AND where your friends think that I made a lie, when I said, that I have thought in times past that the pope had been lord of the world, though your friends are much better learned than I, yet I am sure that they know no•• what either I think, o•• have thought better than I, according to that, No man

knoweth the things of a man, &c. as though better men than I have not thought so, as Bonifacius Octavus (as I remember) the great learned man John of the Burnt Tower, Presbyter Cardinalis in his book where he proveth the pope to be above the council general and special; and where he saith that the pope is king of kings, and lord of lords, and that he is the true lord of the whole world by good right, although in fact he is not so; and that Constantine did but restore his own unto him when he gave unto him Rome; so that, as St. John saith Christ did, He came unto his own, and his own received him not; and yet I hear not that any of our christian congregation have reclaimed against him, until now of late dissention began. Who be your friends I cannot tell; but I wish you would desire them to be my good masters, and if they will do me no good, at least do me no harm; and though they can do you more good than I, yet I am sure I would be as loth to hurt you as they, either with mine own opinions, manner of preaching, or writing.

AND as for the pope's high dominion over all, there is one Raphael Maruphus in London, an Ita|lian, and in times past a merchant of dispensations, which I suppose would die in the quarrel, as God's true knight and and true martyr. As touching purgatory, and worshipping of saints, I shewed to you my mind before my ordinary: and yet I mar|velled something, that after private communication had with him, you would (as it were) adjure me to open my mind before him, not giving me warn|ing before, saving I cannot interpretet your evil doings towards me; and yet neither my ordinary nor you disallowed the thing that I said, and I looked not to escape better than Dr. Crome: but when I opened my mind ever so much, yet I shall be reported to deny my 〈◊〉〈◊〉, by them that have belied it, as he was: I shall have need of great pa••ience to bear the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 report of the malig|nant church.

SIR, I have had more business in my little cure, since I spake with you, what with sick ••olks, and what with matrimonies, than I have had since I came to it, or than I would have ••••ought a ma•• should have in a great cure. I wonder how men can go quietly to bed, who have great and many cures, and yet peradventure are in none of them all. But I pray you to tell none of your friends that I spake so foolishly, lest I make a dissention in a christian congregation, and divide a sweet and peaceable union, or as many as may rest with this in such an age. Sir, I had just made an end of this scribbling, and was beginning to transcribe it more correctly, but there came a man of my lord Farley's, with a citation to appear before my lord of London in haste, to be punished for such excesses as I com|mitted at my last being there, so that I could not perform my purpose; I doubt whether you can read it as it is. If you can, well be it; if not, I pray you send it me again, and that you so do, whether you can read it or not. Jesus, mercy, what a world is this, that I shall be put to so great labour and pains, besides great charges, above my power, for preaching a poor simple sermon! But I think our Saviour Christ said true, I must needs suffer, and so enter: so dangerous a thing it is to live virtuously with Christ, yea, in a christian con|gregation. God make us all christians, after the right fashion, Amen.

A public and authentic Instrument of the BISHOPS for abolishing, and inhibiting of the Scripture, and divers other Books to be read in English, in the Time of King HENRY VIII 1531.

IN the name of God, Amen, Be it known to all and singular true and faithful people, to whom these present letters testimonial, or this present public and authentic instrument shall come, or shall see, read, hear, or understand the same▪ and whom this underwritten shall or may teach, or appertain in any manner of wise to come, William, by the sufferance of Almighty God, archbishop of Can|terbury, primate of all the realm of England, sendeth greeting in our lord God everlasting. We signify unto you all, and let you well know by these presents, that where the king our sovereign lord, hearing of books in the English tongue, con|taining many detestable errors, and damnable opinions, printed in many parts beyond the seas, to be brought into divers towns, and sundry parts of this his realm of England, and sown abroad in the same, to the great decay of our catholic faith, and perilous corruption of his people, unless spee|dy remedy were briefly provided, his highness willing ••••ermore to employ all his study and mind

in the high degree which Almighty God hath called him unto, to the wealth of his subjects, that they might not only live in tranquillity and peace, but also to be kept pure and clean from all contagion and wrong opinions in Christ's religion: consider|ing also that he being defender of the faith, would be very loth to suffer such evil seed to be sown amongst his people, and so take root that it might overthrow the corn of the catholic doctrine, before sprung in the souls of his subjects; for the repelling of such books, calling unto him of his great good|ness, and gracious disposition, not only certain of the chief prelates and clerks of his realm, but also of each university a certain number of the chief learned men of them, proposed such of the books, as his grace had ready, therefore unto them to be read; requiring them to hear in that behalf their advice and judgment of them: who both by great diligence and mature deliberation, perusing over the said books, found in them many errors and heresies, both detestable and damnable, being of such a sort, that they were soon like to corrupt a great part of his people (if they might be suffered to remain in their hands any time), gathering also out of them many great errors, and pestilent here|sies, and noting them in writing, to the intent to shew for what cause they reputed the said books damnable, of which hereafter out of each book ga|thered, many do ensue. However many more there be in the said books, which books totally do swarm full of heresies, and detestable opinions.

Heresies and Errors contained in the Book called, The Parable of the WICKED MAMMON.

SAINTS in heaven cannot help us thither.

TO build a church in honour of our lady, or any other saint, is to build in vain, they cannot help thee, they be not thy friends.

TO bid the poor man pray for me, is only to re|member him to do his duty, not that I have any trust in his prayer.

CHURCHES are for preaching only, and not as they be used now.

TO worship God otherwise, than to believe that he is just and true in his promise, is to make God an idol.

Heresies and Errors contained in the Book called, The Obedience of a CHRISTIAN MAN.

THAT we are able to make satisfaction to our neighbour, but not to God.

THAT children neither ought nor can contract matrimony without the consent of their parents.

PAUL was of higher authority than Peter.

SAINTS be saved, not by their merits, but only by the merits of Christ.

Errors, Blasphemies, and Heresies, noted in the Book of the Revelation of Antichrist, and the Epistle going before.

TO bind a man perpetually to any vow of reli|gion, is without doubt an error.

TO feign the constitutions of religion are good because holy men did ordain them, as Augustine, Benedict, Francis, Domimick, and such others, that is to leave the faith; and to follow such examples of fathers in some things, that is, in these things, is erring.

IF they would make all the observation•• of the ceremonies, as Lent, fasting, holy-days, confession, matrimony, mass, mattins, relics, &c. free and in|different, he should not be Antichrist; but now be|cause he commandeth it in the name of Christ, he doth utterly corrupt the church, suppress the faith, and advance sin.

The Errors and Heresies contained in the Book called, The SUM of the SCRIPTURES.

WE deserve nothing of God.

WE deserve not everlasting life by our good works: for God hath promised it unto 〈◊〉〈◊〉 before that we began to do good.

WE must love death, and more desire to die than to fear death.

THOU shalt not count at night how much money thou hast gained.

THOU shalt not vex or grieve by justice, or other|wise, the poor that oweth unto thee: for thou may••st not do it without sin.

HE that is rich and liveth of his rents, may not use to over-spend his goods as he will, but thy goods belong as well unto the poor as to thee.

GOD hath not given riches to rich men for to boast and brag therewith; nor to make great cheer, nei|ther to make themselves lords, but to the in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that they should be servants unto all the world.

Out of the Book of BEGGARS.

THERE be many men of great literature and judgment, that for the love they have unto the church, and unto the commonwealth, have not feared to put themselves into the greatest infamy that may be in the objection of all the world, yea in the peril of death, to declare their opinion in this matter, which is, that there is no purgatory; but that it is a thing invented by the covetousness of the spirituality, only to translate all kingdoms from other princes unto them; and that there is not one word spoken of it in all holy scripture. God took Enoch away, that is to say, he departed out of this word spoken of it in all holy scripture. God took Enoch away, that is to say, he departed out of this world like other men; the first is wrong translated, for the scripture says, he was translated, not taken away; and the last is false, for in Heb. xi. it is said, by faith Enoch was translated that he should not see death, and was not found, because God had trans|lated him▪ and in Eccles. Enoch pleased God and was translated into para••ise, that he might declare the wisdom of his people.

Out of the PRIMMER.

HE putteth in the book of seven psalms, but he leaveth out the whole Litany, by which it appeareth his erroneous opinion against praying to saints.

HE hath left out all the hymns and anthems of our lady, by which appeareth his erroneous opinions against praying to our lady.

The ungodly and erroneous Saying contained in an Eng|lish Work, inscribed, An Exposition upon the 7th Chapter of the first Epistle to the Corinthians.

WHOSOEVER in himself doth not feel this godly thing, this gift of chastity, but doth feel incontinency, to him, I say, a commandment is given that he may be married.

HEREOF doth follow, that no person may make a vow, or promise to live chaste or single, and that none are bound to keep any such vows, but rather to break them: and he that shall observe them, it is damnable, and by the law of God already condemned.

THE touching of women, some persons have compassed too straightly, so that they dare not touch a woman's hand or skin; moreover they imagined many, both statutes and ceremonies, to keep them from company of women, as they thought that built abbies, but how fortunately that hath come to pass, what place thereby hath been given to Satan, it were horrible to be spoken of.

HE that is compelled outwardly to abstain from women, and is inwardly full of lust, is a dissembler, and it is double letchery.

MARK what soul-slayers they be that provoke foolish youth to a vow of chastity, compelling them to nourish inwardly hidden malice.

ALL other evils may be suffered with a mean conscience.

THIS cannot so be endured, this can be helped by no medicine but by marriage.

IT is good for a man not to touch a woman; this word good is not understood of merit and deserving before God, as though an unmarried man were bet|ter before him, than the married, like as St. Jerome hath expounded this text; for it concerneth only faith▪ and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 deed or work, but it is spoken of temporal ••••••etness of this life, so that the virgin and maid hath much more joy and tranquillity.

CHANTITY is a good thing, if lust and inconti|nency make it not so common a thing as we have hitherto used to do, and yet do, but all amiss; but the apostle willeth, that all men universally be conjugal; but all the bishops since his time have destroyed this godly ordinance, when they babble and rail in pulpits, changing this word every into certain.

MEN ought to stint of their statutes-making for a better statute can none be than this, that men without any respect of time use their wife, not to exempt certain days as they have which we call vigils, and women conceived.

FASTING is a measurable usage of meats and drinks; prayer is a crying, sighing, desiring, and mourning.

NO man ought to enforce and compel men to fasting and prayer, as they hitherto by laws have done.

BEFORE God, all things are alike and equal.

ABOMINABLY they do sin who make nuns swell in pride, when they babble, that their religion is more precious than matrimony, and then feign that they shall have a crown or garland of gold, so making them arrogant, wicked, unfaithful; chastity is a gift of God, and therefore can no man neither promise, nor vow, nor keep it.

THE sects of all them that are called religious, and of all manner of shavelings, are falsly called the spiritual orders: for matrimony like as in very deed, so it ought to be called the spiritual state before other orders worldly and secular; matrimo|ny is of all other the highest religion, and most spiritual estate.

BY testimony of scriptures, all the apostles and all the bishops' successors were married.

ST. PAUL saith, That he ought to be chosen to be a bishop that is the husband of one wife.

SEEING you chuse not married men to be bish|ops, either Christ must be a fool and unrighteous, who did not so chuse, or you Antichrists and de|ceivers.

YOU put away universal marriage from priests, contrary unto God, to nature, to season, to right, only of presumption, without any manner of cause.

THERE is no sin nor mischief in all the world so great, that can hinder a man from priest-hood, but godly matrimony.

WHAT other thing is it to say, that a priest should not marry, than to say, that a man should not be a man?

THIS I dare be bold to say, that where one is chaste, there ought to be more than an hundred thousand to live married.

TO keep a young man in a clo••ster to live chaste, is as much as to offer a child to Moloch there to be burnt.

ALL which great errors and pestilent heresies being contagious and damnable, with all the books containing the same, with the transla••ion of scrip|ture corrupted by William Tindal, as well in the Old Testament as in the New, and all other books in English containing such error, the king's high|ness present in person, by one whole advice and assent of the prelates and clerks, as well of the universities, as of all o••her assembled together, determined utterly to be repelled, rejected, and put away out of the hands of his people, and not to be suffered to go abroad among his subjects; and his highness willeth further, that his pleasure and determination should be notified by preachers abroad unto the people, as well for putting away of all such books, as reading, retaining, or having hereafter of any other like, delivering unto certain preachers the form of a writing to be published in effect unto the people in their sermons, whereof the form here followeth, willing them in all his realm to publish the same.

Here followeth the BILL in English, to be published by the PREACHER.

IT is the office and duty of every peacher and teacher of the word of God, not only to shew and declare unto his audience that which might be profitable and wholesome for the wealth of their

souls, to be followed and taken, but also to note and signify unto them such things as may be dan|gerous and contagious, to the intent they might be avoided and eschewed, and also as near as they can judge who be teachers and authors of the same; this example we have of our Saviour Christ, where he saith. Beware of false prophets, &c. St. Paul likewise many times giveth warning to such as he wrote unto, that they should beware of the false apostles▪ that in his absence went about to corrupt the doctrine th••t he had taught them being present. Wherefore considering that it hath pleased the king's highness, like a noble and a virtuous prince, tendering not only the present wealth and tran|quillity of all his subjects, for his and the worldly benefit and advantage, but most chiefly regarding the wealth of their souls and their due order to|wards God, thereby to deserve and attain immortal glory, to assemble and call together the chief per|sonages of his prelates, and a great number of learned men of both universities, charging and commanding them for the di••charge and exoneration of his conscience, to find, read, examine and discuss, the contents of such books as are now spread abroad within his grace's realm in the En|glish tongue, concerning the points and articles of our faith, and after their learning and conscience to make relation unto his highness, whether the same books be expedient and profitable for his people, to the direction and ordering of their conscience and soul, or else contagious and pesti|ferous for the same: and whether the opinions contained in them, were agreeable to God's word and doctrine or no, forasmuch as the said congre|gation and assembly had free liberty and licence granted unto every man to say as his conscience and lea••ning served him, without any reproof or blame to be imputed or arrested for any thing to be spoken there, whose person soever it touched, or any necessity to agree to the greater part, but only to say that his own learning and conscience could maintain and justify; after mature deliberation and consultation had, it was there, by a whole consent, no man rep••gning or gain sa••ing, deter|mined and agreed that the books now being abroad in the English tongue contain false tradition and corrupt doctrine, far diff••rent from the true sense of the gospel and catholic unde••standing of the scripture, only 〈◊〉〈◊〉 pernicious heresies to the destruction of the souls of good christian men, and that the certainty hereof, I can report unto you of mine own knowledge, being one of the said assembly, and hearing and seeing the said opinions read, declared and examined, and by the true sense and meaning of God's learning reproved and re|jected: I think therefore my duty is, taking upon me the office of preacher, following the example of our master Christ and St. Paul, as is aforesaid, to warn and admonish you by the words of Christ, as I spake before: Beware of false prophets, &c. and take heed yourself that you be not infected by the contagion and infection of such false apostles, as have in our English tongue set forth books to seduce you from the true knowledge of God's laws, and bring you by their false interpretations of scripture into detestable and abominable heresies, to the destruction of our souls: wherefore you that have the books called, The obedience of a christian man; The sum of scripture; The revelation of Antichrist; The supplication of beggars; The mammon of unrighteousness; The matrimony of Tindal; The New Testament in English, of the translation which is now printed, and such other books in English, the authors whereof either dare not, or do not put to their names, be pernicious books; detest them, abhor them, keep them not in your hands, deliver them to the superiors such as call for them: and if by reading them hereto|fore, any thing remaineth in your breasts of that teaching, either forget it, or by information of the truth expel and purge it, to the intent that you being so purified and cleansed of that contagious doctrine and pestiferous traditions, may be fit and apt to receive and retain the true doctrine and understanding of Christ's laws, to the comfort and edification of your souls; thus I move and exhort you in God to do, this is your duty to do.

THE prelates of the church having the cure and charge of your souls ought to compel you, and your prince to punish and correct your not doing of the same, unto whom, as St. Paul saith, the sword is given by God's ordinance for that pur|pose; you shall also further understand, that the king's highness, forasmuch as it was reported unto him that there is engendered in divers of his s••b|jects, an opinion, that it is his grace••s duty t••

cause the scripture of God to be translated into the English tongue to be communicated unto the peo|ple, and that the prelates, and also his highness, do wrong in hindering of the same, his highness willed therefore every man there present in the said assembly, freely and frankly to shew and open unto him what might be proved, and conferred by scrip|ture, and holy doctors in that behalf, to the intent that his highness (as he there openly protested) might conform himself thereunto, minding to do his duty towards his people, as he would they should do their duties towards him: in which matter, after the scripture declared, holy doctors and authors alledged and read, and all things said, which might be on both sides, and for both parties spoken, deduced, and brought forth, finally it appeared, that the having of the whole scripture in English, is not necessary to christian men; but that without having any such scripture, endeavour|ing themselves to do well, and to apply their minds to take and follow such lessons as the preacher that teacheth them, and so learned by his mouth, may as well edify spiritually in their souls, as if they had the same scriptures in English. And like as the having the scriptures in the vulgar tongue, and in the common people's hands, hath been by both holy fathers heretofore in sometimes thought meet and convenient, so at another time it hath been thought to holy fathers not expedient to be com|municated among•••• them wherein forasmuch as the king's highness, by the advice and deliberation of his council, and the agreement of the great learned men, thinketh in his conscience, that the divulging of the scripture at this time in the En|glish tongue, to be committed to the people, con|sidering such pestilent books, and such evil opi|nions, as be now spread amongst them, should rather be to their further confusion and destruction, than the edification of their souls, and that as holy doctors testify, upon such-like considerations, the same hath been done in times past, it was thought there in that assembly to all and singular in that congregation, that the king's highness and the prelates, in s•• doing and not suffering the scripture to be divulged a••d communicated in the English tongue un•••• the people, at this time doth well. And also I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and judge the same, exhorting and moving you, that in consideration his highness did there openly say and protest that he would cause the New Testament to be by learned men, faithfully and purely translated into the English tongue, to the intent that he might have it in his hands ready to be given to his people, as he might see their manners and behaviour meet, apt, and convenient to receive the same, that you will so detest those pernicious books, so abhor these here|sies and new opinions, so decline from arrogancy of knowledge and understanding of scripture after your fancies, and shew yourself in cunning and reasoning, so sober, quiet, meek, and temperate, as all fear of misusing the gift of scripture taken away, you may appear such in your prince's eye••, and eyes of your prelates, as they shall have no just cause to fear any such danger; persuading un|to yourself in the mean time, without grudging or murmuring the very truth, which is this, that we cannot require or demand scripture to be divulged in the English tongue, otherwise than upon the discretion of our superiors, so as whensoever they think in their conscience it may do you good▪ they may and do well to give it unto you: and whenso|ever it shall be seen otherwise unto them, they do amiss in suffering you to have it. Of and upon which decree, order, and determination above re|cited, his gracious highness being in person in the chapel, called the old chapel, which sometime was called St. Edward's chamber, sat on the east side of the parliament chamber, within his grace's pa|lace at Westminster, upon the 24th day of May, in the year of our Lord God 1530, and in the two and twentieth year of his reign, called before his grace the three notaries hereunder written, and then and there in the presence of all the personages there assembled and gathered together, willed and re|quired the said three notaries to make public and authentic instruments, and us to set thereunto our seal accordingly in and for witness, and perpetual memory and monument of this his grace's desire, order, and determination, and of all and singular the personages then and there being present, to testify the same, and bear record and testimony thereupon: in witness of all and singular the pre|mises, We William, archbishop, primate and le|gate, aforesaid, have commanded and obtained

these present letters testimonial, or present public or authentic instrument, containing therein the order, decree, and determination abovesaid, to be made and to be subscribed, and consigned by the hands of the notaries hereafter named, and to be sealed with our own seal. All which premises have been done in manner and form above specified, then and there being present the noble personage of Thomas Moor, knight, great chancellor of England; our reverend brother in Christ, Cuth|bert, by the permission of God, bishop of Durham: and worshipful personages, Mr. Stephen Gardiner, secretary; Mr. Richard Samson, dean of the cha|pel, doctor of law; Mr. Richard Wolman, ma|ster of the requests; Mr. John Bell, counsellor, doctors of holy decrees; Mr. Nicholas Wilson, the king's counsellor, Mr. Richard Duck, arch|deacon of Wiltshire, doctors of divinity; Mr. John Oliver, Mr. Edmund Steward, doctors of the law, chaplains to our sovereign lord the king's grace; Mr. Richard Mawdley, Mr. William Mortimer, Mr. Edward Crome, Mr. Edward Wiggen, doctors also of divinity; Mr. Robert Carter, Mr. Edward Leighton; Mr. Hugh La|timer, and Roger Tilson, masters of art in both the universities abovesaid, with many more learned men of both universities, in a great number assem|bled then and there together, witness to the pre|mises required and exhibited. These being pre|mised, now let us see the answer of bishop Latimer again to this aforesaid proposal or instrument of the bishops, in a letter which the said Latimer wrote to king Henry the same time in that behalf.

HERE followeth a letter of bishop Latimer's, written to king Henry the eighth upon this oc|casion. You heard before of two proclamations set out by the bishops in the name of king Henry, one in the year 1531, and the other in the year 1546; in which proclamations, being authorized by the king's name, were inhibited all English books, either containing or tending to any matter of scripture. Where also we have expressed a catalogue of some of the errors which the said bishops have falsely picked out, and maliciously imputed to godly writers. Now bishop Latimer growing in some favour with the king, and seeing the great decay of Christ's religion by reason of these two proclamations, and touched therefore with the zeal of conscience, directed unto king Henry this letter here ensuing, thereby intending by all means possible, to persuade the king's mind to set open again the freedom of God's holy word amongst his subjects. The copy of which here followeth.

LETTER From Bishop LATIMER to King HENRY the Eighth, for restoring again of the free Liberty of reading the holy Scriptures.

To the most Mighty Prince, King of England, HENRY the Eighth, Grace, Mercy, and Peace, from God the FATHER, by our Lord JESUS CHRIST.

THE holy doctor St. Augustine, in an epistle which he wrote to Casalanus, saith, That he which for fear of any power hideth the truth, pro|voketh the wrath of God to come upon him, for he feareth men more than God. And according to the same, the holy man St. John Chrysostom, saith, that he is not only a traitor to the truth, which openly for truth teacheth a lie; but he also which doth not freely pronounce and shew the truth that he knoweth. These sentences (most redoubt|ed king) when I read now of late, and marked them earnestly in the inward parts of mine heart, they made me sore afraid, troubled and vexed me grievously in my conscience, and at last drove me to this strait, that either I must shew forth such things as I have read and learned in scripture, or else be of that sort that provoke the wrath of God upon them, and be traitors unto the truth: which thing, rather than it should happen, I had rather suffer extreme punishment.

FOR what other thing is it to be a stranger unto the truth, than to be a traitor and a Judas unto Christ, who is the very truth, and cause of all truth? Who saith, that whosoever denieth him before men, he will deny him before his Father in heaven. Which denying ought more to be feared and dreaded, than the loss of all temporal goods,

honour, promotion, fame, prison, slander, hurts, banishments, and all manner of torments and cru|elties, yea, and death itself, be it ever so painful and shameful. But alas! how little do men regard those sharp sayings of these two holy men! And how little do they fear the terrible judgment of Almighty God! And especially they who boast themselves to be guides and captains unto others, and challenging unto themselves the knowledge of holy scripture, yet will neither shew the truth them|selves (as they be bound) or suffer them that would. So that unto them it may be said, that which our Saviour Christ said to the pharisees, Matth. xiii. Woe be unto you, scribes and pharisees, who shut up the kingdom of heaven before men, and neither will you enter in yourselves, neither suffer them that would to enter in. And they will, as much as in them lieth, debar not only the word of God, which David calleth, a light to direct and shew every man how to order his affections and lusts, ac|cording to the commandments of God, but also by their subtle wil••ness they instruct, move, and pro|voke in a manner, all kings in Christendom, to aid, succour, and help them in this their mischief; and especially in this your realm they have so blinded your liege people and subjects with their laws, customs, ceremonies, and Banbury glosses, and punished them with cursings, excommunica|tions, and other corruptions (corrections I would say) and now at the last, when they see they cannot prevail against the open truth (which the more it is perse|cuted, the more it increaseth by their tyranny) they have made it treason to your noble grace to have the scripture in English.

HERE I beseech your grace to pardon me a while, and patiently to hear me a word or two; yea, though it be so that, as concerning your high ma|jesty and regal power, whereunto Almighty God hath called your grace, there is as great difference between you and me, as between God and man▪ for you be here to me and to all your subjects▪ in God's stead, to defend, aid, and succour us in our right, and so I should tremble and qua•••• to speak to your grace. But again, as concerning that you be a mortal man, in danger of sin, having in you the corrupt nature of Adam, in which we are all both conceived and born: so have you no less need of the merits of Christ's passion for your salvation, than I and other of your subjects have, which 〈◊〉〈◊〉 all members of the mystical body of Christ. And though you be an higher member, yet you must not disdain the lesser. For as St. Paul saith, Those members that are taken to be most vile, and had in least reputation, be as necessary as the other, for the preservation and keeping of the body. This, most gracious king, when I consi|dered, and also your favourable and gentle nature, I was bold to write this rude, homely, and simple letter to your grace, trusting that you will accept my true and faithful mind, even as it is.

FIRST, I will exhort your grace to mark the life and process of our Saviour Christ, and his apostles, in preaching and setting forth of the gos|pel; and to note also the words of our master Christ, The tree is known by its fruit. For by the diligent marking of these, your grace shall clearly know and perceive who are the true fol|lowers of Christ, and teachers of his gospel, and who are not. And concerning the first, all scrip|ture sheweth plainly that our Saviour Jesus Christ's life was very poor.

BEGIN at his birth, and I beseech you, who ever heard of a poorer, or so poor as he was? It were too tedious to write how poor Joseph and the blessed Virgin Mary took their journey from Na|zareth toward Bethlehem, in the cold and frosty winter, having nobody to wait upon them, but he both master and man, and she both mistress and maid. How vilely, thinks your grace, were they treated in the inns and lodgings by the way? and in how vile and abject a place was this poor maid, the mother of our Saviour Jesus Christ, brought to bed, without company, light, or any other thing necessary for a woman in that condition? Was not here a poor beginning, as concerning this world? Yes truly. And according to this be|ginning was the process and end of his life in this world, and yet he might by his godly power have had all the goods and treasures of this world at his pleasure, when and where he would.

BUT this he did to shew us, that his followers and vicars should not regard and set by the riches and treasures of this world, but after the saving of Da|vid we ought to take them, which saith thus; If

riches, promotions, and dignity happen to a man, let him not set his affiance, pleasure, trust, and heart upon them. So that it is not against the poverty in spirit, which Christ preacheth in the gospel of St. Matthew▪ chap. v. to be rich, to be in dignity and in honour, so that their hearts be not fixed and set upon them so much, that they neither care for God nor good men. But they be enemies to this poverty in spirit, have they ever so little, that have greedy and desirous minds to the goods of this w••••ld, only because they would live after their own pleasures and lusts. And they also be private enemies (and so much the worse) which have professed, as they say, wilful poverty, and will not be called worldly men, and they have lord's lands, and king's riches; yea, rather than they would lose one jot of that which they have, they will set debate between king and king, realm and realm, yea, between the king and his subjects, and cause rebellion against the temporal power, to which our Saviour Christ himself was obedient, and paid tribute, as the gospel declareth; unto whom the holy apostle St. Paul•• teacheth every christian man to obey. Yea, and beside all this, they will curse and censure, as much as in them lieth, even into the deep pit of hell, all that gainsay their appetite, whereby they think their goods, promotions, or dignities should decay.

YOUR grace may see what means and craft the spirituality (as they will be called) imagine, to break and withstand the acts which were made in your grace's last parliament against their superflu|ities. Wherefore they that thus do, your grace may know them not to be true followers of Christ. And although I named the spirituality to be cor|rupt with their unthrifty ambition; yet I mean not all to be faulty therein, for there be some good of them. Neither will I that your grace should take away the goods due to the church, but take away all evil persons from their goods, and set better in their stead.

I name nor appoint no person nor persons, but remit your grace to the rule of our Saviour Christ, as in Matthew the 7th chapter, By their fruit you shall know them. As touching the words that our Saviour Christ spake to his disciples when he sent them to preach his gospel, they be read in Matthew, the fifteenth chapter, where he sheweth, That here they shall be hated and dispised of all men worldly, and brought before kings and rulers, and that all evil should be said of them for their preaching sake; but he exhorteth them to take pa|tiently such persecution by his own example, say|ing, It becometh not the servant to be above the master. And seeing they call me Beelzebub, what marvel is it if they call you devilish persons and heretics. Read the fourteenth chapter of St. Mat|thew's gospel, and there your grace shall see that he promised to the true preachers no worldly pro|motions or dignity, but persecutions and all kinds of punishment, and that they should be betrayed even by their own brethren and children. In John also he saith, In the world ye shall have op|pression, and the world shall hate you: but in me you shall have peace. And in the tenth chapter of St. Matthew's gospel, saith our Saviour Christ also, Lo I send you forth as sheep among wolves. So that true preachers go like sheep, harmless, and be persecuted, and yet they revenge not their wrongs, but remit all to God; so far is it off that they will persecute any other but with the word of God only, which is their weapon. And so this is the most evident token that our Saviour Jesus Christ would that his gospel and the preachers of it should be known by, that it should be despised among those worldly wise men, and that they should repute it but foolishness and deceivable doctrine, and the true preachers should be persecuted and hated, and driven from town to town, yea, and at the last lose both goods and life.

AND yet they that did this persecution, should think that they did well, and a great pleasure to God. And the apostles remembering this lesson of our Saviour Christ, were content to suffer such persecutions, as you may read in the Acts of the apostles, and the epistles. But we never read that they ever persecuted any man. The holy apostle St. Paul saith, That every man that will live godly in Christ Jesus, should suffer persecution. And also he saith further, in the epistle ••o the Philippians, •••• the first chapter, That it is not only given to you to believe in the Lord, but also to suffer, p••••secution for his sake.

WHEREFORE take this for a sure conclusion, that

there where the word of God is truly preached, there is persecution, as well of the hearers, as of the teach|ers: and where is quietness and rest in worldly plea|sures, there is not the truth. For the world loveth all that are contrary to it. And, to be short, St. Paul calleth the gospel, the word of the cross, that word of punishment. And the holy scripture doth promise nothing to the favourers and followers of it in this world, but trouble, vexation, and persecu|tion, which these worldly men cannot suffer, nor away withal.

THEREFORE pleaseth it your good grace, to re|turn to this golden rule of our master and only Saviour Jesus Christ, which is this, By their fruits you shall know them. For where you see persecu|tion, there is the gospel, and there is the truth: and they that persecute, be void without all truth; not caring for the clear light, which (as our Sa|viour Jesus Christ saith, in the third chapter of St. John's gospel) is come into the world, and which shall utter and shew forth every man's works. And they whose works be nought, dare not come to this light, but go about to stop and hinder it, en|deavouring to prevent, as much as possible, the reading of the holy scriptures in our mother tongue, saying, that it would cause heresy and insurrection, and so they persuade, at least they would fain per|suade your grace to keep it back. But here mark their shameless boldness, who be not ashamed con|trary to Christ's doctrine, to gather figs of thorns, and grapes of t••istles, and to call light darkness and darkness light, sweet bitter and bitter sweet, good evil and evil good; and to say, that that which teacheth all obedience should cause dissension and strife: but such is their belly-wisdom, where with they judge and measure every thing, to hold and keep still this wicked mammon, the goods of this world, which is their god, and hath so blinded the eyes of their hearts, that they cannot see the clear light of the sacred scripture, though they bab|ble ever so much of it.

BUT, as concerning this matter, other men have shewed your grace their minds, how necessary it is to have the scripture in English. Which thing also your grace hath promised by your last proclama|tion: which promise I pray God that your gracious highness may shortly perform, even to-day before to-morrow. Nor let the wickedness of these world|ly men detain you from your godly purpose and promise. Remember the subtle worldly wise coun|sellors of Hanun the son of Na••s, king of the Am|monites, whom when David sent his servants 〈◊〉〈◊〉 comfort the young king for the death of his father, by crafty imaginations counselled Hanun, not only to receive them gently, but to treat them mo•••• shamefully and cruelly, saying, "That they cam•• not to comfort him, but to espy and search hi•• land, so that afterward, they bringing David wor•• how every thing stood, David might come and con|quer it." And he caused the young king to she•• their heads, and to cut their coats by the point••▪ and sent them away like fools; whom he ought rather to have made much of, and to have treated them gently, and have given them great thank•• and rewards: O wretched counsellors! But 〈◊〉〈◊〉 what followed of this carnal and worldly wisdom▪ truly nothing but destruction of all the whole realm▪ and also of them that took their parts.

THEREFORE, good king, seeing that the right David, that is to say, our Saviour Christ, hath sent his servants, that is to say, his true preachers, and his own word also to comfort our weak and sick souls, let not these worldly men make your grace believe, that they will cause insurrections and here|sies, and such mischiefs as they imagine of their own mad brains, lest that he be avenged upon you and your realm, a•• was David upon the Ammon|ites, and as he hath ever been avenged upon them which have obstinately withstood and gainsaid his word. But peradventure they will lay this against me, and say that experience doth shew, how that such men as call themselves followers of the gospel, regard not your grace's commandment, neither obey your proclamation; and that was well proved by those persons which of late were punished in London for keeping such books as your grace had prohibited by proclamation: and so like as they regarded not this, so they will not regard or esteem other your grace's laws, statutes, or ordinances. But this is but a crafty persuasion. For your grace knoweth, that there is no man living, especially that loveth worldly promotion, that is so foolish to set forth, promote, or ad••ance his enemies, whereby he should be hindered of his worldly pleasures and fleshly desires; but rather he will seek all the ways

possible that he can, utterly to confound, destroy, and put him out of the way. And so as concern|ing your last proclamation, prohibiting such books, the very true cause of it, and chief counsellors (as men say, and of likelihood it should be) were they whose evil living and cloaked hypocrisy these books uttered and disclosed. And howbeit that there were three or four that would have had the scrip|ture to go forth in English, yet it happened there, as it is always seen, that the most part overcometh the better, and so it might be 〈…〉〈…〉 not take this proclamation as your's, but as their's, set forth in your name, as they have done many times more, which hath put this your realm in great hindrance and trouble, and brought it in great pe|••••ry; and more would have done, if God had not mercifully provided to bring your grace to know|ledge of the falshood and privy treason, which their head and captain was about; and be you sure not without adherents, if the matter be duly searched. For what marvel is it, that they being so nigh of your counsel, and so familiar with your lords, should provoke both your grace and them to prohibit these books, which before by their own authority have forbidden the New Testament under pain of ever|lasting damnation▪ ••or such is their manner▪ to send a thousand men to 〈◊〉〈◊〉, ere they send one to God, and yet the New Testament (and so I think by the o••••er) was meekly offered to every man that would and could▪ to amend it, if the••e were any fault.

MOREOVER, I will ask them the cause of all in|••urrections, which have heretofore been in this realm. And whence is it that there be so many extortioners, bribers, murderers, and thieves, which ••••ily do not only break your grace's 〈…〉〈…〉, and statutes▪ but also the laws and com|mandments of Almighty God? I think they will not say these books, but rather their pardons, which causeth many a man to sin in trust of them. For as for those mal••factors which I now rehearsed, you shall not find one among a hundred; but he will cry out, both of these books, and also of them that have them, yea and will be glad to spend the goods which he hath wrongfully gotten; upon fag|gots, to burn both the books, and them that have them.

AND as touching these men that were lately punished for these books, there is no man, I hear say, that can lay any word or deed against them that should sound to the breaking of any of your gra|ce's laws, this only except, if it be you••'s, and not rather 〈◊〉〈◊〉. And be it so that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 b•• some that have these books, that be evil, unruly, and self-willed persons, not regarding God's law••, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 man's, yet th••se books be not the cause thereof, no more than was the bodily presence of Christ and his words the cause that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sell, but their own fro|w••rd mind and 〈…〉〈…〉, which should be amend|ed by the virtuous example of living of their ••••|rates, and by the true exposition of the scripture. If the lay-people had such curates that would 〈◊〉〈◊〉 do their office, neither these books, nor the devil himself, could hurt or put them out of order, so that the lack of good 〈◊〉〈◊〉 is the destruction and cause of all mischief. Neither do I write 〈◊〉〈◊〉 things because that I will either excuse these m••n lately punished, or to affirm all to be true 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in these b••••ks, which I have not all read, but to shew that there cannot such inconvenience follow of them, and especially of the scripture, as they would make 〈◊〉〈◊〉 believe should follow.

AND though 〈…〉〈…〉 go forth without persecution, if your grace had commanded that every m••n within your 〈…〉〈…〉 throughout all the world, which is the 〈…〉〈…〉 that Christ shewed 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his disciples should come before the day of judgment; so that if your gra••e had once commanded that the scrip|ture should be put forth, the de••il would set forth some 〈◊〉〈◊〉 or other 〈◊〉〈◊〉 persecute the truth. But my purpose is, for the love that I have 〈◊〉〈◊〉 God prin|cipally, and the glory of his name, which is only known by his word, and for the true allegiance that I ow•• unto your grace, and not to hide in the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of my heart the talent given me by God, but 〈…〉〈…〉 it forth to others, that it may in|crease

to the pleasure of God, to exhort your grace to avoid and beware of these mischievous flatterers, and their abominable ways and counsels.

And take heed whose counsels your grace doth 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in this matter: for there be some that for fear of losing of their worldly worship and honour, will not leave off their opinion, which rashly, and that to please men withal by whom they had great pro|motion, they took upon them to defend by writing, so that now they think that all their felicity which they put in this life should be marred, and their wisdom not so greatly regarded, if that which they have so slanderously oppressed should be now put forth and allowed. But alas! let these men re|member St. Paul, how fervent he was against the truth (and that of a good zeal) before he was call|ed; he thought no shame to suffer punishment and great persecutions for that which before he despised and called heresy. And I am sure that their living is not more perfect than St. Paul's was, as concern|ing the outward works of the law, before he was converted.

ALSO the king and prophet David was not asha|med to forsake his good intent in building of the temple, after that the prophet Nathan had shewed him that it was not the pleasure of God that he should build any house for him; and notwithstan|ding that Nathan had before allowed and praised the purpose of David, yet he was not ashamed to revoke and eat his words again, when he knew that they were not according to God's will and pleasure.

WHEREFORE they be sore drowned in worldly wisdom▪ that think it against their worship to ac|knowledge their ignorance; whom I pray to God that your grace may espy, and take heed of their worldly wisdom, which is foolishness before God, that you may do what God commandeth, and not what seemeth good in your own sight without the word of God, that your grace may be found ac|ceptable in his sight, and one of the members of his church; and according to the office that he hath called your grace unto, you may be found a faith|ful minister of his gifts, and not a defender of his faith, for he will not have it defended by man, or man's power, but by his word only, by which he hath evermore defended it, and that by a way far above man's power or reason, as all the stories of the Bible make mention.

WHEREFORE, gracious king, remember yourself, have pity upon your soul, and think the day is e|ven at hand when you shall give an account of your office, and of the blood that hath been shed with your sword. In which day that your grace may stand stedfastly, and not be ashamed, but be clear and ready in your reckoning, and to have, as they say, your discharge sealed with the blood of our Saviour Christ, which only serveth at that day, is my daily prayer to him that suffered death for our sins, who also prayeth to his Father for grace for us continually. To whom be all honour and praise for ever, Amen. The Spirit of God preserve your grace.

December 1, 1530.

IN this letter of Bishop Latimer to the king a|bove prefixed, many things we have to consider; First, his good conscience to God, his good will to the king, the duty of a right pastor unto truth, his tender care to the commonwealth, and especially to the church of Christ. Further, we have to con|sider the abuse of princes' courts, how kings may be abused with flatterers and wicked counsellors about them; and especially, we may note the subtle practices of prelates, in abusing the name and authority of kings, to set forth their own ma|lignant proceedings. We may see moreover, and rather marvel at in the said letter, the great bold|ness and divine stoutness in this man, who as yet being no bishop, so freely and plainly without any fear of death, adventuring his life to discharge his conscience, durst so boldly, to so mighty a prince, in such a dangerous case, against the king's law and proclamation set out in such a terrible tim•• take upon him to write, and to admonish that which no counsellor durst so much as once mention unto him in defence of Christ's gospel. Whose example, if the bishops and prelates of this realm, for their parts likewise, in like cases would follow (as indeed they ought to do) it is very probable that many things would not be so out of frame as they be.

FINALLY, this moreover in the said letter is to be noted, how blessedly Almighty God wrought with

his faithful servant's bold adventure, and whole|some counsel, though it did not prevail through the iniquity of the time, yet God so wrought with his servant in doing his duty, that no danger, nor yet displeasure rose to him thereby, but rather thanks and good will of the prince; for not long after the same he was advanced by the king to the bishopric of Worcester, as is above declared.

SEEING bishop Latimer was so bold and plain with the king (as is before specified) no great mar|vel if he did use the like freedom and plain••••••s towards other meaner persons, in admonishing them of their misorder, especially if any such oc|casion where given, were truth and equity required his defence against injury and oppression. For example whereof we have another letter of his, written to a certain justice of the peace in Warwick|shire, who as he is long since departed, so he shall be here unnamed. The letter, although it may seem somewhat 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and tedious, yet I thought not to overpass the same for several reasons: First, That the virtue and faithful conscience of this good pastor may appear more at large; also, for that all other bishops and pastors by this examp••e may learn with like zeal and resolution to discharge their duty and conscience in reforming things amiss, and in powdering with the salt of God's word the sores of the people. Which thing if every bishop for his part within his diocese had done in king Ed|ward's days, in redressing such corruption of that time with like diligence as this man did, verily I sup|pose that the persecution of queen Mary had not so plagued the realm as it did. Item, Another respect i••, because of the justices and all others placed in office, which may take heed here, not to abuse their authority to tread down truth▪ and bear down poor men with open wrong through extortion of partia|lity. And finally, that all injurious oppressors whatsoever, by the said letter, may take some fruit of wholesome admonition.

Bishop LATIMER'S Letter to a Justice of the Peace.

RIGHT worshipful, health in the Lord. And now, sir, I understand▪ that you be in great admiration at me, and take very grievously my manner of writing to you; adding, thereunto that you will not bear it at my hand, no if I were the best bishop in England, &c.

AH sir, I see well I may say as the common saying is, Well, I have fished and caught a frog▪ brought little to pass with much ado. You will not bear it with me, you say. Why, sir, wha•• will you do with me? You will not fight with me, I suppose. It may seem unseemly for a justice of peace to be a breaker of the peace: I am glad the doting time of my foolish youth is gone and past▪ What will you then do with me, in that you say you will not bear it at my hand? What hath my hand offended you? Perchance you will summo•• me before some judge, and call me into some court. God turn it to good. I refuse no jud••ment. Le•• us accuse one another, that one of u•• may amend another, in the name of the Lord. Let justice proceed in judgment. And then and there do best, have best, for club-halfpenny. Or perad|venture you will set pen to paper, and all to rattle me in a letter, wherein confuting me you will de|fend yourself and your brother against me. Now that would I see, says long Robin, as is common|ly said. I cannot chuse but must allow such dili|gence. For so should both your integrities and innocencies best appear, if you be able to defend both your own proceedings, and your brother'•• doings in this matter to be upright. And then will I gladly give place, confessing my fault hum|bly, as conquered with just reasons. But I think it will not be. But now first of all let me know, what it is that you will not bear at my hand? What have I done with my hand? What hath my hand trespassed you? Forsooth, that can I tell, no man better; for I have charitably admo|nished you in a secret letter, of your supper-dealing and such like misbehaviour. What a sore matter is this? And will you not bear so much with me? Will you not take such a shew of my good will towards you, and towards the saving of your soul at my hand? O Lord God, who would have thought that Mr. N. had been so imprudent, that he would not bear a godly admonition for the wealth of his soul? I have in use to commit such trespass many times in a year with your betters, by two or three degrees, both lords and ladies, and the best of the realm, and yet hitherto I hav•• not

heard that any of them have said in their displeasure, that they will not bear it at my hand. Are you yet to be taught what is the office, liberty, and privilege of a preacher? What is it else, but even to rebuke the world of sin without respect of persons: which thing undoubtedly is the peculiar office of the Holy Ghost in the church of God, so that it be practised by lawful preachers. You could but ill bear (belike) to hear your fault openly reproved in the pulpit, which cannot bear the same in a secret sealed-up letter, written both friendly, charitably, and truly; unless perhaps to rebuke sin sharply, be now to lack all charity, friendship, and truth. But Mr. N. if you will give me leave to be plain with you, I fear you are so plunged in worldly purchasings, and so drowned in the manifold dr••••s of this deceivable world▪ that I believe you have forgotten your cat••chism. Read therefore again the opening of the first commandment, and then tell me, whether you have just cause to complain of me, or I of you, &c.

ALSO, sir, you said further, that I am wonderfully abused by my neighbour, &c. How so, good Mr. N••? Wherein? or how will you prove it to be true, and when? So you said, that he had abused you, and given you wrong information; but the contrary is found true by the good testimony of Mr. Chambers, who heard as well as you what my neighbour said, and hath testified the same, both to you, and against you, full like himself. Mr. N. to forge and feign, (which argueth an ill cause) that is one thing; but to prove what a man doth say, that is another thing. A•• though you were privileged to out-face poor men, and bear them in hand what you lift, a•• may seem to make some maintenance for your naughty cause. Trust me, Mr. N. I was but very little acquainted with my neighbour when this matter began; but now I have found him so conformable to honesty, upright in his dealings, and so true in his talk, that I esteem him better than I do some others whom I have perceived and found otherwise. For I will flatter no man▪ nor yet claw his back in his folly, but esteem all men as I find them▪ allowing what is good, and dis|allowing what is bad. Among all men, either friends or enemies, according to St. Paul's precept, not esteemed of the children of this world; Ha••e you, saith he, that which is evil, and cleave that which is good. And let us not any time, for the favour of men, call good evil, and evil good, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the children of this world are commonly wont to do, as it is every where to be seen. And now what manner of man do you make me, master N. when you note me to be so much abused by so ig|norant a man, so simple, so plain, and so far with|out all wrinkles? Have I lived so long in this to••|tering world, and have I been so many ways turmoiled and tossed up and down, and so much as it were seasoned with so many experiences to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 fro, to be now so far bewitched and alienated from my wits, as though I could not discern chees•• from chalk, truth from falsehood, but that every silly soul, and base-witted man, might easily abuse me to what enterprize he lifted at his pleasure? Well, I say not nay, but I may be abused. But why do you not tell me how your brother abused me, promising before me and many more, that he would stand to your awardship, and now doth deny it? Why do you not tell me, how those two false faithless wretches abused me, promising also to abide your a••ard, and do it not? Ye••, why do you not tell me how you yourself have abused, me promi|sing me to address the injury and wrong that your brother hath done to my neighbour, and have not fulfilled your promise? These notable abuses be nothing with you, but only you must needs burden me with my neighbour's abusing me, which is no|thing at all, as far as I could perceive, so God help me at my need. For if he had abused me as you and others have done, I should be soon at a point with him, for any thing further doing for him, &c.

LIKEWISE, sir, you said further, that I shall ••••|ver be able to prove that either your brother or the two tenants agree to stand to your award, &c. No, sir, Mr. N. you say be••ike as you would have it to be, or as your brother with his adheren•••• have persuaded you to think it to be, so inducing you to do their request to your own shame and re|buke, if you persevere in the same, besides the dan|ger o•• your soul, for consenting, at least wi••e, to the maintenance by falsehood of your brother's iniqu••|ty. For in that you would your awardship should take no effect, you shew yourself nothing inclinable to the redress of your brother's u••right dealing with an honest poor man, which hath been ready at

your request to do you pleasure with his things, or he had never come into this wrangle for his own goods with your brother.

AH, master N. what manner of man do you shew yourself to be? or what manner of conscience do you shew yourself to have? For, first, as touching your brother, you know well that sir Thomas Coking, with a letter of his own hand writing, hath witnessed unto your brother's agree|ment; which letter he sent to me unsealed, and I shewed the same to my neighbour, and others be|fore I sealed it, and perchance have a copy of the same yet to shew. With what conscience then can you say that I shall never be able to prove it? Shall not three men upon their oaths make a suf|ficient proof, think you? The Lord himself says, is the mouth of two or three, &c. Yea, you think i•• true, I dare say, in your conscience, if you have any conscience, though I were in my grave, and so unable to prove any thing. As for the two tenants, they be as they be, and I trust to see them handled ac|cording as they be three men yet alive, that dare swear upon a book, that they both did agree. But what should we look for at such men's hands, when you yourself play the part you do? But God is yet alive, who seeth all, and judgeth justly.

ALSO, sir, you said yet further, that the justices of the peace in the county think you▪ very unnatu|ral, in taking part with me before your brother, &c. Ah, master N. what a sentence is this to come out of your mouth? For partaking is one thing, and ministring of justice is another thing; and a worthy minister of justice will be no partaker, but one indifferent between party and party. And did I ••••quire you take my part, I pray you? No, I re|quired you to administer justice between your bro|ther and my neighbour, without any partaking with either▪ But what manner of justices be they, I pray you, who would so fain have you to take part naturally with your brother, when you ought and should reform and amend your brother? as you yourself know, no man better. What, justice! No, jugglers you might more worthily call such as they be, than justices. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 they those justices which call you unnatural, for that you will not take your brother's part against all right and conscience, whom you had picked out and appointed to have the final hearing and determining my neighbour's cause, after your substantial and final award-making? Verily, I think no less. Forsooth, he is very much obliged to you, and I also for his sake. Is that the wholesome counsel that you have to give your poor neighbours in their need? Indeed you shew yourself a worthy juggler: oh, I would have said a justicer, among other of your juggling and partak|ing justices. O good God! what is in the world? Marry, sir, my neighbour had spun a fair thread, if your partaking-justices through your good counsel had had his matter in ordering and finishing. I pray God save me and all my friends, with all God'•• flock, from your natural, and so partaking-justices, Amen.

LORD God! who would have thought that there ••ad been so many partaking-justices in Warwick|••hire, if master N. himself, one of the same order▪ (but altogether out of order) and therefore know|eth it best, had not told us the tale? But the•••• call you, you say, very unnatural, &c. And 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not rather, I pray you, too much natural? for we read of a double nature, found and corrupt. That was full of justice: this, unless it be restored, abid|eth always unjust, bringing forth the fruits of wickedness one after another; so that he that will not help his brother, having a just cause in his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 may be justly called unnatural, as one following 〈◊〉〈◊〉 disposition and inclination of corrupt nature against the will of God; and so to be natural may 〈…〉〈…〉 be cater-cousin, or cousin-german with, to be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 bolical.

I fear we have too many justices that be too much natural, to their own punishment both of body and soul. For worthy justices having ever the fear and dread of God before their eye••, (of which sort we have fewer amongst us than I wish we had) w••ll have no respect at all in their judgments and pro|ceedings, to vicinity of blood, but altogether to the worth and justice of the cause, judging that to be just which is so in the sight of God, though not of men; of which number I pray God to make you one, Amen. He is just that doth justice. But he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sinneth (as they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 do which do unjustly 〈◊〉〈◊〉 favour and pleasure of men) is of the devil, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he, of which sort all our partaking and natural justices be with all their partiality and naturality. Wherefore it would be right and just that as many

〈◊〉〈◊〉 be such justices, be justly deprived of their offi|ces, and further also to be punished, according to the quantity or quality of their crime, so that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that means they may be cut off, as men born and bred to the hurt and detriment of the common wealth, which trouble us when they ought to help us, Amen.

SIR, finally and last of all you added these words following: Well, said you, let bishop Latimer take heed how he meddleth with my brother, for he is like to find as crabbed and froward a piece of him, as ever he found in his life, &c. Ah, sir, and is your brother such an one as you speak of indeed? Merciful God, what a commendation is this for one brother to give another? Is this your glorying, my friend? And were it not possible, think you, to make him better? It is written, Vexation giveth understanding. And again, It is good, O Lord, that thou hast humbled me. At least, I may pray to God for him as David did for such like, after this sort; Bind fast asses with bridle and snaffle, that they approach not near unto thee. In the mean season, I would I had never known either of you both; for so should I have been without this in|ward sorrow of my heart, to see such unwillingness in you both to godliness; for I cannot but be heavy h••a••ted, to see such men so wickedly minded. Well, let us ponder a little better your words, where you say, I shall find him as crabbed and as froward a piece as ever I found in my life, &c. Mark well your own words. For by the tenor of the same it plainly appeareth, that you confess your brother's cause, wherein he so stiffly standeth, to be unjust and very naught. For he that standeth so stiffly in a good quarrel and a just cause, as many good men have done, is called a fast man, a con|stant, a trusty man. But he that is obstinate and untractable in wickedness and wrong doing, is com|monly called a crabbed and froward piece, as you name your brother to be.

WHEREFORE knowing your brother's cause to be so wicked, why have you not endeavoured yourself, as a worthy justice, to reform him accordingly, as I required you, and you promised me to do, now almost twelve months ago. In short Mr. N. if you will not come off shortly, and apply yourself thereunto more effectually hereafter than you have here••ofore, ••e you well assured thereof, I shall 〈◊〉〈◊〉 you to all the friends that I have in England, both high and low, as well hi•• crabbedness and fro|wardness, as your colourable support of the same; that I trust I shall be able thereby either to bring you both to some goodness, or at least I shall so warn my friends and all honest hearts to beware of your wickedness, that they shall either take no hurt at all, or at least less harm by you through my ad|vertisement; in that knowing you perectly, they may the better avoid and shun your company. You shall not hinder me, Mr. N. no, though you would give me all the lands and goods you have, as rich as you are noted to be. I will not forsake such a just cause, neither will I communicate with other men's sins. For whether it be by detestable pride; whether by abominable avarice; or by both linked together, it is no small iniquity to keep any poor man so long from his right and duty so stiff|neckedly and obstinately, or, whether ye will, crab|bedly and frowardly. And what is it then any manner of ways to consent to the same? You know, I suppose, Mr. N. what theft is, that is, to take or detain by any manner of way another man's goods against his will that is the owner, as some define it. If he be a thief that doth so openly, what shall he be that approveth him which is the doer, defendeth, maintaineth, and supporteth him by any manner of colour? Consider with yourself, good Mr. N. what it is to oppress and to defraud your brother in his business, and what folleweth thereof. It is truly said, the sin is not forgiven, except the thing be restored again that is taken away. No restitution, no salvation; which is as well to be understood of things gotten by fraud, guile, and deceit, as of things got by open theft and robbery. Wherefore let not your brother, Mr. N. by cav••••|lation continue in the devil's possession. I will do the best I can, and wrestle with the devil with all my strength, to deliver you both from him. I will leave no one s••••ne unmoved to have both you and your brother 〈◊〉〈◊〉. There is neither arch|bishop nor bishop, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 yet any learned man neither in universi•••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 or elsewhere, that I am acquainted with, that shall not write u••to you, and in their writing by their learning confute you. There is no godly man of law in this realm that I am ac|quainted with, but they s••••ll write unto you, and confute you by law. There is neither lord nor

lady, nor yet any noble personage in this realm, that I am acquainted with, but they shall write unto you, and godly threaten you with their authority.

I will do all this; yea, and kneel upon both my knees before the king's majesty, and all his ho|nourable council, with most humble petition for your reformation, rather than the devil shall pos|sess you still, to your final damnation. So that I do not despair, but verily trust one away or the o|ther, to pluck both you and also your crabbed bro|ther, as crabbed as you say he is, out of the devil's claws, in spite of the devil's heart.

THESE premises well considered, look upon it good master N. that we have no further ado; God's plague is presently upon us; therefore let us now diligently look about us, and in no wise de|fend, but willingly acknowledge and amend what|soever hath been amiss. These were the capital points of your talk, as I was informed, after you had perused my nipping and unpleasant letter? And I thought good to make you some answer to them, if perchance I might so move you, rather to call yourself to some better r••membrance, and so more earnestly apply yourself to accomplish and perform what you have begun and promised to do, namely, the thing itself being of such sort, as apparently tendeth both to your worship, and also to God's high pleasure.

THUS, lo, with a mad head, but yet a good will, after long scribbling I know not well what (but I know you can read it, and comprehend it well enough), I bid you most heartily well to fare in the Lord, with good health, and long life to God's pleasure.

From Baxterly, June 15.

HUGH LATIMER.

DURING the time that the said bishop Latimer was prisoner at Oxford, we read not much of what he did write, besides his conference with Dr Rid|ley, and his protestation at the time of his disputa|tion. Otherwise, of letters we find very few or none that he wrote to his friends abroad, save only these few lines, which he sent to one Mrs. Wilkin|son of London, a pious woman, and afterwards an exile for the gospel's sake. Who, so long as she remained in England, was a singular patroness to the good saints of God, and learned bishops, as to bishop Hooper, to the bishop of Hereford, to Mr. Coverdale, bishop Latimer, Dr. Cranmer, with many others. The copy and effect of which his letter to Mrs. Wilkinson here followeth.

LETTER From Mr. HUGH LATIMER to Mrs. Wilkinson, Widow, in London.

IF the gift of a pot of water shall not be in obli|vion with God, how can God forget your ma|nifold and bountiful gifts, when he shall say to you, I was in prison and you visited me? God grant us all to do and suffer while we are here, as may be to his will and pleasure, Amen.

Your's in Bocardo, HUGH LATIMER.

TOUCHING the memorable actions of this worthy man, among many others this is not to be neglected, what a bold enterprize he attempted, in sending to king Henry a present, the manner whereof is this. There was then, and remaineth still an old custom received from the old Romans, that upon New-year's day, being the first day of January, every bishop with some handsome new-year's gift should gratify the king; and so they did, some with gold, some with silver, some with a purse full of money, and some one thing, some another: but bishop Latimer being then bishop of Worcester, among the rest, presented a New Testament for his new-year's gift, with a napkin having this posey abo•••• it, Fornicators and adulterers God will judge.

AND thus hast thou (gentle reader) the whole life, both of Dr. Ridley and bishop Latimer, two wor|thy fathers in the church of Christ, their writings, disputations, sufferings, their painful travels, and faithful preachings, studious service in Christ's church their patient imprisonment, and constant fortitude in that which they had taught, with all their proceedings from time to time, since their first springing years to this present month of queen Mary, being the month of October, Anno 1555. In which month they were brought forth together, to their final examination and execution. Where|fore

as we have hitherto declared both their lives severally and distinctly one from another; so now jointly: to couple them both together, as they were both together joined in one society or cause of mar|tyrdom, we will, by the grace of Christ, prosecute the rest that remaineth concerning their last exami|nation, degrading and constant suffering, with the order and manner also of the commissioners, and what were their words, their objection, their ora|tions there used, and what again were the answers of those men to the same, as in the process here fol|loweth may be seen.

The Order and Manner of the Examination of Dr. RIDLEY, and Bishop LATIMER, in Sept. 1555.

FIRST, after the appearing of Thomas Cran|mer, archbishop of Canterbury, before the the pope's delegate, and the queen's commissioners in St. Mary's church at Oxford, about the 12th of September, whereof more shall be said (by God's grace) when we come to the death of the said arch|bishop; shortly after, on the 28th of the said month, another commission was sent down to Ox|ford from cardinal Poole, to John White, bishop of Lincoln, Dr. Brooks, bishop of Gloucester, and Dr. Holyman, bishop of Bristol. The contents and virtue of which commission was, that the said bishops of Lincoln, Gloucester, and Bristol, or two of them, should have full power and authority to cite, examine and judge, Mr. Hugh Latimer and Dr. Ridley, for divers and sundry erroneous opi|nions, which the said Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley did hold and maintain in open disputations had in Oxford, in the months of May, June, and July, in the year 1554, as long before in the time of perdition, and since. Which opinions, if the named persons would now recant, giving and yield|ing themselves to the determination of the universal and catholic church planted by Peter in the blessed 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Rome, that then the deputed judges, by the said authority of their commission, should have power to receive the said penitent persons, and forthwith administer unto thm the reconciliation of the holy father the pope; but if the said Hugh Latimer, and Nicholas Ridley, would stoutly and stubbornly maintain these their erroneous opinions and assertions, that then the said lords by their commission should proceed in form of judgment, according to the law of heretics; that is degradi•••• them from their promotions and dignity of bi••••••ops, priests, and all other ecclesiastical order•••• should pronounce them heretics, and therefore clean cut them off from the church, and so yield them to receive punishments due to all such heresy and schism.

WHEREFORE the last of September the said two persons, Nicholas Ridley and Hugh Latimer were cited to appear before the said lords in the divinity school at Oxford at eight of the clock▪ At which time the lords repaired thither, placing themselves in the high seat made for public l••••••tures and disputations, according to the usage of that school, being then fair set and trimmed with cloth of tissue, and cushions of velvet: and after the said lords were placed and set, the said Latimer and Ridley were sent for. And first Dr. Ridley appeared, and by and by bishop Latimer. But because it seemed good severally to examine them, bishop Latimer was kept back until Dr. Ridley was thoroughly examined. Therefore soon af••ter the coming of Dr. Ridley into the sch••••••▪ the commission was published by an appointed notary, and openly read. But Dr. Ridley stand|ing bareheaded, humbly expecting the cause of that his appearance, as soon as he had heard the cardinal named, and the pope's holiness, put 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his cap. Wherefore after the commission was published, the bishop of Lincoln spake as follow|eth.

LINCOLN.

Mr. Ridley, although neither 〈◊〉〈◊〉 nor yet my lords here, in respect of our own per|sons do look for cap or knee, yet because we bear and represent such persons as we do, that is, my lord cardinal's grace, legate a latere to the pope's holiness, as well in that he is of a noble parentage

(and there Dr. Ridley moved his cap with lowly obeisence)

descending from the royal blood, as in that he is a man worthy to be reverenced with all humility, for his great knowledge and learning, noble virtuous and godly life, and especially in that he is here in England deputy to the pope's holiness, it should have becomed you at this name to have uncovered your head. Wherefore except you will of your ownself take the pains to put your hand to your head, and at the nomination, as well

of the said cardinal, as of the pope's holiness, un|cover the same, lest that this your contumacy, ex|hibited now before us, should be prejudicial to the said most reverend persons, (which thing we may in no case suffer) you shall cause us to take the pairs to oblige some man to pluck off your cap from you. To whom Dr. Ridley (desiring li|c••••••e) answered:

RIDLEY.

As touching what you said, my lord, that you of your own persons desire no cap or knee, but only require the same in consideration that you represent the cardinal's grace's person, I would have you know, and thereupon make my protesta|tion, that I did put on my cap at the naming of the cardinal's grace, neither for any contumacy that I bear towards your own persons, neither for any derogation of honour toward•• the lord cardinal's grace. For I know him to be a man worthy of all humility, reverence, and honour, in that he came of the most regal blood, and in that he is a ••an indu|ed with manifold graces of learning and virtue; and as touching these virtues and points, I, with all humility

(therewith he put off his cap, and bow|ed his knee)

and obeisance that I may, will reve+rence and honour his grace; but in that he is legate to the bishop of Rome

(and therewith put on his cap)

whose usurped supremacy and abused autho|rity I utterly refuse and renounce, I may in no wise give my obeisance or honour unto him, lest that my so doing might be prejudicial to mine oath, and a derogation to the verity of God's word: and there|fore that I might not only by confession profess the verity, in not reverencing the renounced authority, contrary to God's word, but also in gesture, in behaviour, and all my doings, express the same, I have put on my cap, and for this consideration only, and not for any contumacy to your lordships, neither contempt of this worshipful audience, nei|ther derogation of any honour due to the cardinal's grace, both for his noble parentage, and also his excellent qualities, I have kept on my cap.

LINCOLN.

Mr. Ridley, you excuse yourself of that with which we pressed you not, in that you protest you keep on your cap, neither for any contumacy towards us (who look for no such ho|mage from you) neither for any contempt of this audience: which although justly they may, yet (as I suppose) in this case do not require any such obeisance of you, neither in derogation of any ho|nour due to my lord cardinal's grace, for his regal de|scent

(at which word Dr. Ridley moved his cap)

and excellent qualities; for although in all the pre|mises honour be due yet in these respects we require none of you, but only in that my lord cardinal's grace is here in England, deputy of the pope's holiness

(at which word the lords and others put off their caps, and Dr. Ridley put on his)

and there|fore we say unto you the second time, that except you take the pains yourself, to put your hand to your head, and put off your cap, you shall put us to the pains to cause some man to take it from you, except you alledge some infirmity and sickness, or other more reasonable cause, upon the consideration whereof we may do as we think good.

RIDLEY.

The premises I said only for this end, that it might as well appear to your lord|ships, as to this worshipful audience, why and for what consideration I used such kind of beha|viour, in not humbling myself to your lordships with cap and knee: and as for my sickness I thank my Lord God, that I am as well at ease as I have been this long time; and therefore I do not pre|tend that which is not, but only this, that it might appear by this my behaviour, that I acknowledge in no point that usurped supremacy of Rome, and therefore contemn and utterly despised all autho|rity coming from him. In taken off my cap, do as it shall please your lordships, and I shall be content.

THEN the bishop of Lincoln, after the third ad|monition, commanded one of the beadles (that is, an officer of the universiy) to pluck his cap from his head▪ Dr. Ridley bowing his head to the offi|cer, gently permitted him to take it away.

AFTER this, the bishop of Lincoln, in a long oration, exhorted Dr. Ridley to recant, and submit himself to the universal faith of Christ, in this manner.

LINCOLN.

Mr. Ridley, I am sure you have sufficiently pondered with yourself the effect of this o•••• commission with good advice, considering both points thereof, how that authority is given to us, if you shall receive the true doctrine of the church, which first was founded by Peter at Rome immedi+ately after the death of Christ, and from him by lineal succession hath been brought to this our time, if you will be content to renounce your former er|rors, recant your heretical and seditious opinions, content to yield yourself to the undoubted faith and truth of the gospel, received and always taught by the catholic and apostolic church, which the king and queen, all the nobles of this realm, and com|mons of the same, all christian people have and do confess you only standing alone by yourself: you understand and perceive, I am sure, that authority is given to us to receive you, to reconcile you, and upon due penance to join and associate you again into the number of the catholics and Christ's church, from which you have so long strayed, without which no man can be saved: which thing I and my lords here, yea, and all, as well nobles and com|mons of this realm, most heartily desire, and I, for my part,

(here he put off his cap)

most earnestly exhort you to do.

REMEMBER, Mr. Ridley, it is no strange country whither I exhort you to return. You were once one of us, you have taken degrees in the school. You were made a priest, and became a preacher, setting forth the same doctrine which we do now. You were made bishop according to our laws; and, to be short, it is not so long ago since you separated yourself from us, and in the time of heresy became a setter-forth of that devilish and seditious doctrine which, in these latter days, was preached amongst us. For at what time the new doctrine of only faith began to spring, the council, willing to win my lord chancellor, sent you to him (I then being in my lord's house, unknown, as I suppose, to you); and after you had talked with my lord se|cretly, and were departed, immediately my lord declared certain points of your talk, and means of your persuasion, and amongst others this was one, that you should say, Tush, my lord, this matter of justification is but a trifle, let us not stick to condescend herein to them; but for God's love, my lord, stand stoutly in the verity of the sacrament; for I see they will assault thee also▪ If this be true, (as my lord is a man credible enough in such a matter) hereby is is declared of what mind you were then, as touching the blessed sacrament.

ALSO in a sermon of your's at Paul's Cross, you as effectually and as catholicly spake of that blessed sacrament as any man might have done, whereby it appeareth that is no strange thing, nor unknown place whereunto I exhort you. I wish you to re|turn thi••her from whence you came, that is, with us to acknowledge the church of God, wherein no man may err, to acknowledge the supremacy of our most reverend father in God the pope's holi|ness, which (as I said) lineally taketh his descent from Peter, upon whom Christ promised, before his death, to build his church; which supremacy or prerogative the most ancient fathers in all ages, in all times did acknowledge: and here he brought a place or two out of the doctors, but especi••lly fixed upon a place of St. Augustine, who writeth after this manner; All the christian countries beyond the sea are subject to the church of Rome. Here you see, Mr. Ridley, that all Christendom is subject to the church of Rome. What should hinder you therefore to confess the same as St. Augustine and other fathers?

THEN Dr. Ridley desired his patience to suffer him to speak somewhat of the premises, lest the multitude of things might confound his memory; and having leave granted him, he said in this manner.

RIDLEY.

My lord, I most heartily thank your lordship, as well for your gentleness, as also for your sobriety in talk, and for your good and fa|vourable zeal in this learned exhortation, in which I have marked especially three points, which you used to persuade me to leave my doctrine and reli|gion, which I perfectly know and am thoroughly persuaded to be grounded, not upon man's imagi|nation and decrees, but upon the infallible truth of Christ's gospel, and not to look back and to return to the Romish see, contrary to mine ••ath contrary to the prerogative and crown of this realm, and espe|cially (which moveth me most) contrary to the ex|press word of God.

THE first point is this, that the see of Rome taking its beginning from Peter, upon whom you say Christ hath built his church, hath in all ages, lineally from bishop to bishop, been brought to this time.

SECONDLY, That even the holy fathers from time to time have confessed the same.

THIRDLY, That in that I was once of the same opinion, and together with you I did acknowledge the same.

FIRST, As touching the saying of Christ, from whence your lordship gathereth the foundation of the church upon Peter, truly the place is not to be understood as you take it, as the circumstance of the place will declare. For after that Christ had asked his disciples whom men judged him to be, and they answered, that some had said he was a prophet, some Elias, some one thing, some another; then he said, Whom say ye that I am? Then Pe|ter said, I say that thou art Christ the Son of God. To whom Christ answered, I say, Thou art Peter, and upon this stone I will build my church; that is to say▪ Upon this stone not meaning Peter himself, as though he would have constituted a mortal man, so frail and brittle a foundation of his stable and infal|lible church: but upon this rock stone, that is this confession of thine, that I am the Son of God, I will build my church. For this is, the foundation and beginning of all christianity with word, heart, and mind, to confess that Christ is the Son of God. Whosoever believeth not this, Christ is not in him; and he cannot have the mark of Christ printed in his forehead, which confesseth not that Christ is the Son of God.

THEREFORE Christ said unto Peter, that upon this rock, that is, upon this confession, that he was Christ the Son of God, he would build his church•• to declare, that without this faith no man can come to Christ: so that this belief, that Christ is the Son of God, is the foundation of our christianity, and the support of our church. Here you see upon what foundation Christ's church is built, not upon the frailty of man, but upon the stable and infallible word of God.

NOW as touching the lineal descent of the bishops in the see of Rome, true it is, that the patriarchs of Rome in the apostles ••••me, and long after, were great maintainers and ••••••ters-forth of Christ's glory, in which, above all other countries and regions, there especially was preached the true gospel, the sacra|ments were most duly administered; and as▪ before Christ's coming, it was a city so valiant in power, and martial affairs, that all the world was in a man|ner subject to it, and after Christ's passion divers of the apostles there suffered persecution for the gos|pel's sake: so after that the emperors, their hearts being illuminated, received the gospel, and became christians, the gospel there, as well for the fame of the place, flourished most, whereby the bishops of that place were had in more reverence and honour, most esteemed in all councils and assemblies, not because they acknowledged them to be their head, but because the place was most reverenced and spoken of, for the great power and strength of the same. As now here in England▪ the bishop of Lincoln, in sessions and sittings, hath the pre-emi|nence of other bishops, not that he is the head and ruler of them; but for the dignity of the bishopric

(and therewith the people smiled).

Wherefore the doctors in their writings have spoken most reve|rently of this see of Rome.

IN like manner, I cannot, nor dare but commend, reverence and honour the see of Rome, as long as it continued in the promotion and setting forth of God's glory, and in due preaching of the gospel, as it did many years after Christ. But after that the bishops of that see, seeking their own pride, and not God's honour, began to set themselves above kings and emperors, challenging to them the title of God's vicars, the dominion and supremacy over all the world, I cannot but with St. Gregory, a bishop of Rome also, confess that place is the very true Anti|christ, whereof St. John speaketh by name of the whore of Babylon; and say, with the said St. Gre|gory, He that maketh himself a bishop over all the world, is worse than Antichrist.

NOW whereas you say St. Augustine should seem not only to give such a prerogative, but also supre|macy to the see of Rome, in that he saith all the christian world is subject to the church of Rome,

and therefore should▪ give to that see a certain kind of subjection; I am sure that your lordship know+eth, that in St. Austin's time there were four p••tri…archs, of Alexandria, Constantinople, Antioch, and Rome, which patriarchs h••d under them cert••in countries; as in England the archbishop of Canter|bury hath under him certain bishoprics in England and Wales, to whom he may be said to be their patriarch. Also your lordship knoweth right well▪ that at the time St. Austin wrote that book he was then bishop in Africa. Farther, you are not igno+rant, that between Europe and Africa lieth the sea called the Mediterranean sea, so that all the coun|tries in Europe to him which is in Africa, may be called countries beyond the sea, Hereof St. Austin saith, All the christian countries beyond the seas and remote regions, are subject to the see of Rome. If I should say all countries beyond the sea, I do except England, which to me now being in England, is not beyond the sea. In this sense, St. Austin saith, All countries beyond the sea are subject to the see of Rome; declaring thereby, that Rome was one of the sees of the four patriarchs, and under it Europe, by what subjection I pray you? Only for a pre-eminence; as we here in England say, that all the bishoprics in England are subject to the arch|bishop of Canterbury.

FOR this pre-eminence also the other doctors (as you recited) say, that Rome is the mother of church••s, as the bishopric of Lincoln is mother to the bishopric of Oxford, because the bishopric of Oxford came from the bishopric of Lincoln, and they were once both one; and so is the archbishopric of Canterbury, mother to the other bishoprics which are in her province. In like manner the archbish|opric of York, is mother to the North bishoprics; and yet no man will say, that Lincoln, Canterbury, or York, in supreme head to the other bishoprics; neither then ought we to confess the see of Rome to be supreme head, because the do••tors in their writings confess the see of Rome to be mother of churches.

NOW where you say. I was once of the same reli|gion which you are of, the truth is I cannot but confess the same. Yet so w••s St. Paul a persecutor of Christ. But in th••t you say, I was one of you not long ago, in that I in doing my message to my ••ord of Winchester, should desire him to stand stout in that gross opinion of the supper of the Lord: in very deed I was sent (as your lordship said) from the council to my lord of Winchester, to exhort him also to receive the true confession of justification; and because he was very refractory, I said to him, What make you so great a m••tter herein? You see many an••baptists rise against the sacrament of the altar; I pray you, my lord, be diligent in confounding of them: for at that time my lord of Winchester and I had to do with two anabaptists in Kent. In this sense I willed my lord to be stiff in the defence of the sacrament against the detestable errors of anabaptists, and not in the con|firmation of that gross and carnal opinion now maintained.

IN like sort, as touching the sermon which I made at St. Paul's Cross, you shall understand, that there were at St. Paul's, and divers other places, fixed raili••g bills against the sacrament, terming it Jack of the Box, The Sacrament of the Halter, Round Robin, with such unseemly terms; for which causes, I, to rebuke irreverent behaviour of certain evil-disposed persons, preached as reverently of that matter as I might, declaring what estimation and reverence ought to be given to it, what danger ensued the mishandling thereof, affirming in that sacrament to be truly and verily the body and blood of Christ, effectually by grace and spirit; which words the unlearned understanding not, supposed that I had meant of the gross and carnal being which the Romish decrees set forth, that a body having life and motion, should be indeed under the shapes of bread and wine.

WITH that the bishop of Lincoln interrupting him said:

LINCOLN.

Well, Mr. Ridley, thus you wrest places to your own pleasure; for whereas St. Au|gustine saith, That the whole christian world is sub|ject to the see of Rome without any limitation, and useth these words, Beyond the se••s, and re|mote regions, only to express the latitude of the dominion of the see of Rome, willing thereby to declare that all the world, yea countries far distant from Rome, yet nevertheless are subject to that see, yet you would wrest it, and leave it only to Europe. I am sure you will not deny, but all the countries is more than Europe.

RIDLEY.

Indeed, my lord, if St. Augustine ••ad said simply, All the countries, and not added, Be|yond the seas, it had been without limitation; but in that he said, All the countries beyond the seas, he himself doth limit the universal proposition, de|claring how far he meant by All the countries.

THE bishop not staying for his answer, proceed|ed, saying:

LINCOLN.

Well, if I should stay upon this place, I could bring many more places of the fathers for a confirmation thereof; but we have certain in|structions, according to which we must proceed, and came not hither to dispute the matter with you, but only to take your answers to certain articles, and used this in the way of disputation, in which you interrupted me; wherefore I will return thi|ther again.

YOU must consider that the church of Christ lieth not hid, but is a city on the mountain, and a candle in the candlestick. Ponder with yourself, that the church of Christ is catholic, and universally spread throughout the world, not contained in the alliga|tion of places, not comprehended in the circuit of England, not contained in the compass of Germany and Saxony, as your church is.

WHEREFORE, Mr. Ridley, for God's love be you not singular; acknowledge with all the realm the truth, it shall no•• be (as you alledge) prejudi|cial to the crown; for their majesties the king and queen have renounced that usurped power taken of their predecessors, and justly have renounced it. For I am sure you know there are two powers, the one declared by the sword, the other by the keys. The sword is given to kings and rulers of coun|tries; the keys were delivered by Christ to Peter, and of him left to all the successors. As touching our goods, possessions, and lives, we with you ac|knowledge us subjects to the king and queen, who hath the temporal sword; but as concerning mat|ters of religion, as touching God's quarrel and his word, we acknowledge another head; as the king and the queen's highness do in all worldly affairs justly challenge the prerogative and p••imacy, so in spiritual ••nd ••cclesia••••ical matters they acknowledge thems••lves not to be heads and rulers, but members of Christ's body. Why, therefore, should you stick at that matter, which their majesties have for|saken and yielded?

WHEREFORE, Mr. Ridley, you shall not only no•• do injury to the crown, and be prejudicial to their majesties honour, in acknowledging with all Chris|tendom the pope's holiness to be supreme head of Christ's church militant here upon earth, but do a thing most agreeable to them, and most desired of his holiness. Thus if you will do, revoking toge|ther all your errors, acknowledging with the residue of the realm the common and public fault, you will do what all men most heartily desire; you will bring quietness to your conscience, and health to your soul; then shall we with great joy, by the authority committed to us from the cardinal's grace, receive you into the church again, acknow|ledging you to be no longer a rotten, but a lively member of the same; but if you shall still be sin|gular, if you shall still obstinately persevere in your errors, stubbornly maintaining your former heresies▪ then we must against our will, according to our commission, separate you from us, and cut you off from the church, lest the rottenness of one part, in process of time, putrify and corrupt the whole body, then must we confess and publish you to be none of our's; then must we yield you up to the temporal judges, of whom, except it otherwise please the king and queen's highness, you must receive punishment by the laws of this realm, due for heretics.

WHEREFORE, Mr. Ridley, consider your state, remember your former degrees, spare your body, especially consider your soul, which Christ so dearly bought with hi•• pre••ious blood, do not rashly cast away that which was precious in God's sight; en|force us not to do all that we may do, which is not only to publish you to be none of us, but to cut you off from the church: we do not, nor can we condemn you to die, (as most untruly hath been ••eported of us) but that is the office of the tempo|ral judges; we only declare you to be not of the church, and then you must, according to the tenor of them, and pleasure of the rulers, abide their de|termination, so that we, after we have given you up to the temporal rulers, have no further to do with you.

BUT I trust, Mr. Ridley, we shall not have oc|casion to do what we may. I trust you will suffer us to rest in that point of our commission, which w•• most heartily desire, that is, upon recant••tion and repentance to ••eceive to reconcile you, and a|gain to join you to ••he unity of the church.

THEN Dr. Ridley, with often interruption, at length spake.

RIDLEY.

My lord, I acknowledge an unspotted church of Christ, in which no man can err, with|out which no man can be saved, which is spread throughout all the world, that is, the congregation of the faithful; neither do I alligate or bind the same to any one place, as you said, but confess the same to spread throughout all the world; and where Christ's sacraments are duly administered, his gospel truly preached and followed, there doth Christ's church shine as a city upon a hill, and as a candle in a candlestick: but rather it is such as you that would have the church of Christ bound a place, who appoint the same to Rome, that there and no where else is the foundation of Christ's church. But I am fully persuaded that Christ's church is e|very where founded, in every place where his gos|pel is truly received, and effectually followed. And in that the church of God is in doubt, I us•• herein the counsel of Vincentius Lyrinen••is, whom I am sure you will allow, who giving precepts how the catholic church may be in all schisms and heresies known, writeth in this manner: When (saith he) one part is corrupted with heresies, then prefer the whole world before that one part; but if the greatest part be infected, then prefer anti|quity.

IN like manner now when I perceive the greatest part of christianity to be infected with the poison of the see of Rome, I repair to the usage of the primi|tive church, which I find quite contrary to the pope's decrees; as in that the priest receiveth alone, that it is made unlawful to the laity to receive in both kinds, and such like, wherefore it requireth, that I prefer the antiquity of the primitive church, before the novelty of the Romish church.

LINCOLN.

Mr. Ridley, these faults which you charge the see of Rome withal, are indeed no faults. For first, it was never forbid the laity, but that they might, if they demanded, receive under both kinds. You know also, that Christ after his resurrection, at the time he went with his apostles to Galilee, o|p••ned himself by breaking of bread. You know that St. Paul after his long failing towards Rome, brake bread, and that the apo••••les came together in breaking of bread, which declareth that it is not unlaw••ul to administer the sacrament under the form of bread only. And yet the church had just occasion to decree, that the laity should receive in one kind only, thereby to t••ke away an opinion of the unlearned, that Christ was wholly both flesh and blood, under the form of bread. There|fore to take away their op••nion▪ and to establish better the people's faith, the Holy Ghost in the church thought fit to decree, that the laity should receive only in one kind; and it is no news for the church upon just considera••ion to alter rites and ceremonies. For you read in the Acts of the Apostles, that St. Paul writing to certain of the Gentiles, who had received the gospel biddeth them to abstain from things stifl••d, and from blood, so that this seemeth to be an expr••ss com|mandment; y••t who will say but tha•• it is lawful to eat bloodings? How is it lawful but by the permission of the church?

RIDLEY.

My lord, such things as St. Paul enjoined to the Gentiles for a sufferance, by a little to win the Jews to Christ, were only command|ments of time, and respected not the successors. But Christ's commandment. Do this, (that is, that which he did in remembrance, which was not to administer in one kind only) was not a com|mandment for a time, but to persevere to the world's end.

BUT the bishop of Lincoln not attending to this answer, without any stay proceeded in this ora|tion.

SO that the church seemeth to have authority by the Holy Ghost, whom Christ said he would send after his ascension, which should teach the apostles all truth, to have power and jurisdict••on to alter such points of the scripture, ever reserving the founda••ion: but we came not, as I said before, in this sort to reason the matter with you, but

have certain instructions ministered unto us, accord|ing to the tenor of which we must proceed, propo|sing certain articles, unto which we require your answer directly, either affirmatively, or negatively, to every of them, either denying them or granting them, without farther disputations or reasoning; for we have already stretched our instructions, in that we suffered you to debate and reason the mat|ter, in such sort as we have done; which articles you shall hear now, and to-morrow at eight o'clo••k, in St. Mary's church, we will require and take your answers; and then according to the same proceed: and if you require a copy of them, you shall have it, pen, ink, and paper, also such books as you shall demand, if they be to be gotten in the university.

The ARTICLES.

IN the name of God, Amen. We John of Lin|coln, James of Gloucester, and John of Bris|tol, bishops, &c.

1. WE do obj••ct to thee, Nicholas Ridley, and to thee Hugh Latimer, jointly and severally; first, that in the year 1554, in the month of April, May, June, July, or in some one or more of them, hast affirmed and defended and maintained, and in many other times and places besides, that the true and natu••al body of Christ, after the consecra|tion of the priest, is not really present in the sacra|ment of the altar.

2. THAT in the year and months aforesaid thou hast pu••licly affirmed and defended, that in the sacram••nt of the altar remaineth still the substance of bread and wine.

3. ITEM. That in the said year and months thou hast openly affirmed, and obstinately maintained, that in the mass is no p••opitiatory sacrifice for the quick and the dead.

4. ITEM. That in the year, place, and months aforesaid, th••se the aforesaid ass••••tions solemnly had been condemned, by the s••holastical censure of this school as heretical and contrary to the ca|tholic faith, by the worshipful Dr. Weston, pro|locuter then of the convocation house, as also by other learned men of both the universities.

5. ITEM. That all and singular the premises be true, notorious, famous, and openly known by public same, as well to them near hand, as also to them in distant places far off.

All these articles I thought good here to place together, that as often as hereafter rehear|sal shall be of any of them, the reader may have recourse hither, and peruse the same, and not to trouble the story with several repetitions thereof.

Examination upon the said ARTICLES.

AETER these articles were read, the bishops took counsel together. At last the bishop of Lincoln said, These are the very same articles which you in open disputation here in the univer|sity did maintain and defend. What say you unto the first? I pray you answer affirmatively, or ne|gatively.

RIDLEY.

Why, my lord, I supposed your gen|tleness had been such, that you would have given me space until to-morrow, that upon good advice I might bring a determinate answer.

LINCOLN.

Yea, Mr. Ridley, I mean not that your answers now shall be prejudicial to your answers to morrow. I will take your answers at this time, and yet notwithstanding it shall be law|ful to you to add, diminish, alter, and change these answers to morrow what you will.

RIDLEY.

Indeed, in like manner at our last dis|putations I had many things promised, and few per|formed. It was said, that after disputations I should have a copy thereof, and license to change mine an|swers, as I should think good. It was meet also that I should have seen what was written by the notaries at that time. So your lordship pretended great gentleness in giving me a time; but this gentleness is the same that Christ had of the high priest. For you as your lordship saith, have no power to con|demn me, neither at any time to put a man to death: so in like sort the high-priests said, that it was not lawful for them to put any man to death, but com|mitted Christ to Pilate, neither would suffer him to absolve Christ, although he fought all the means for it that he might.

THEN spake Dr. Weston, one of the audience, What, do you make the king Pilate?

RIDLEY.

No, Mr. Doctor, I do but compare your deeds with Caipha••'s deeds and high-priests, which would condemn no man to death, as you will ••ot, and yet would not suffer Pilate to absolve and deliver Christ.

LINCOLN.

Mr. Ridley, we mind not but that you shall enjoy the benefit of answering to-mor|row, and will take your answers now as now, to-morrow you shall change, take out, add, and alter what you will. In the mean season we require you to answer directly to every article, either affir|matively or negatively.

RIDLEY.

Seeing you appoint me a time to answer to-morrow, and yet will take mine answers out of hand: first, I require the notaries to take and write my protestation•• that in no point I ac|knowledge your authority, or admit you to be my judges, in that point you are authorized from the pope. Therefore whatsoever I shall say or do, I protest I neither say it, neither do it willingly, thereby to admit the authority of the pope▪ and if your lordship will give me leave, I will shew the causes which move me thereunto.

LINCOLN.

No, Mr. Ridley, we have instruc|tions to the contrary. We may not suffer you.

RIDLEY.

I will be short; I pray your lordship suffer me to speak in a few words.

LINCOLN.

No, Mr. Ridley, we may not abuse the hearers ears.

RIDLEY.

Why, my lord, suffer me to speak three words.

LINCOLN.

Well, Mr. Ridley, to-morrow you shall speak forty. The time is far past; therefore we require your answer determinately. What say you to the first article? and there upon rehearsed the same.

RIDLEY.

My protestation always saved, that by this mine answer, I do not condescend to your authority, in that your are le••ate to the pope, I a••swer thus: In a sense the first a••••icle is true, and in a sense it is false; for if you take really for truly, for spiritually by grace and efficacy, then it is true that the natural body and blood of Christ it in the sacra|ment really and truly; but if you take these terms so gro••ly, that you would conclude t••ereby a natural body having motion, to be contained under th•• for•••• of bread and wine, really and truly, then really is not the body and blood of Christ in the sacrament, no more than the H••ly Ghost is in the element of our baptism. Because this answer was not understood, the notaries knew not how to note it; wherefore the bishop of Lincoln 〈◊〉〈◊〉 him to an••wer affirmatively or negatively, either to grant ••he article, or to deny it.

RIDLEY.

My lord, you know that where any equivocation (which is a word having two signifi|cations) is, except distin••••ion be given, no direct answer can be made; for it is one of Aristotle's fallacies, containing two questions under one, which cannot be satisfied with one answer. For both you and I agree herein, that in the sacrament is the very true and natural body and blood of Christ, even that which was born of the virgin Mary, which ascended into heaven, which sitteth at the right hand of God the Father, which shall come from thence to judge the quick and the dead, only we differ in the way and manner of being; we confess all one thing to be in the sacrament, and dissent in the manner of being there. I being fully by God'•• word thereunto persuaded, confess Christ's natural body to be in the sacrament indeed by spirit and grace, because that whosoever worthily receiveth that bread and wine, receiveth effectually Christ's body, and drinketh his blood, that is, he is made effectually partaker of his passion; and you make a grosser kind of being, inclosing a natural, a lively, and a moving body, under the shape or form of bread and wine.

NOW, this difference considered, to the ques|tion thus I answer, that in the sacrament of the a••••er is the natural body and blood of Christ really and truly, or spiritually by grace and efficacy; for so every worthy receiver receiveth the very true body of Christ; but if you mean really and indeed, so that thereby you would include a lively

and a moveable body under the forms of bread and wine, then in that sense is not Christ's body in the sacrament really and indeed.

THIS answer taken and penned by the notaries, the bishop of Lincoln proposed the second question or article. To whom he answered:

RIDLEY.

Always my protestation reserved, I answer thus; that in the sacrament is a certain change, in that bread, which was before com|mon bread, but is now made a lively repre|sentation of Christ's body, and not only a figure, but effectually representeth his body; that even as the mortal body is nourished by that visible bread, so is the internal soul fed with the heaven|ly food of Christ's body, which the eye of faith seeth, as the bodily eye seeth only bread. Such a sacramental mutation I grant to be in the bread and wine, which truly is no small change, but such a change as no mortal man can make, but only that omnipotency of Christ's word.

THEN the bishop of Lincoln desired him to an|swer directly, either affirmatively or negatively, without further declaration of the matter. Then he answered:

RIDLEY.

That notwithstanding the sacramen|tal mutation of which he spake, and all the doctors confessed, the true substance and nature of bread and wine remaineth: with which the body is in like sort nourished, as the soul is by grace and spirit with the body of Christ. Even so in baptism the body is washed with the visible water, and the soul is cleansed from all filth by the invisible Holy Ghost, and yet the water ceaseth not to be water, but keepeth the nature of water still: in like manner in the sacrament of the Lord's supper the bread ceaseth not to be bread.

THEN the notaries penned, that he answered affirmatively to the second article. The bishop of Lincoln declared a difference between the sacra|ment of the altar and baptism, because that Christ did not say by the water, This is the Holy Ghost, as he did by the bread, This is my body.

THEN Dr. Ridley cited St. Augustine, which conferred both the sacraments one with the other: but the bishop of Lincoln notwithstanding, there|upon recited the third article, and required a direct answer. To whom Ridley said:

RIDLEY.

Christ, as St. Paul writeth, made one perfect sacrifice for the sins of the whole world▪ neither can any man reiterate that sacrifice of his, and yet is the communion an acceptable sacrifice to God of praise and thanksgiving; but to say that thereby sins are taken away (which wholly and per|fectly was do•••• by Christ's passion, of which the communion is only a memory) that is a great de|rogation from the merits of Christ's passion: for the sacrament was instituted, that we receiving it, and thereby recognizing and remembering his passion, should be partakers of the merits of the same. For otherwise doth this sacrament take up|on it the office of Christ's passion whereby it might follow, that Christ died in vain.

THE notaries penned this his answer to be affir|mative.

LINCOLN.

Indeed as you alledge out of St. Paul, Christ made one perfect oblation for all the whole world; that in▪ that bloody sacrifice upon the cross: yet nevertheless he hath left this sacrifice, but not bloody, in the remembrance of that by which sins are forgiven; which is no derogation of Christ's passion.

THEN the bishop of Lincoln recited the fourth article. To which Dr. Ridley answered:

RIDLEY.

That is some part the fourth was true, and in some part false; true, in that his assertions were condemned as heresies, although unjustly; false, in that it was said, they were condemned Scientia Scholastica, in that the disputations were in such sort ordered, that it was far from any school act.

THIS answer being penned by the notaries, the bishop of Lincoln rehearsed the fifth article. To which Dr. Ridley answered:

RIDLEY.

That the premises were in such sort

true, as in these answers he had declared. Whe|ther that all men spake evil of them, he knew not, in that he came not so much abroad to hear what every man reported.

WHEN this answer also was taken by the notaries, the bishop of Lincoln said:

LINCOLN.

To-morrow, at eight o'clock, you shall appear before us in St. Mary's church, and then because we cannot well agree upon your an|swer to the first article

(for it was long before he was understood)

if it will please you to write your answer, you shall have pen, ink, paper, and books, such as you shall require; but if you write any thing more than your answers to these articles, we will not receive it: so he charging the mayor with him, declaring also to the mayor, that he should suffer him to have a pen and ink, dismissed Dr. Ridley, and sent for Mr. Latimer, who being brought to the divinity-school, there tarried till they called for him.

Bishop LATIMER appeareth before the Commissioners.

NOW after Dr. Ridley was committed to the mayor, then the bishop of Lincoln com|manded the bailiffs to bring the other prisoner, who, as soon as he was placed, said to the lords:

LATIMER.

My lords, If I appear again, I pray you not to send for me untill you be ready. For I am an old man, and it is great hurt to mine old age to tarry so long gazing upon the cold walls. Then said the bishop of Lincoln:

LINCOLN.

Mr. Latimer, I am sorry you are brought so soon, although it is the bailiff's fault, and not mine: but it shall be amended.

THEN Mr. Latimer bowed his knee down to the ground, holding his hat in his hand, having a kerchief on his head, and upon it a night cap or two, and a great cap (such as townsmen use, with two broad fl••••s to button under the chin), wearing an old thread-bare Bristow frize gown girded to his body with a penny leather girdle, at which hang|ed by a long string his Testament, and his spectacles without a case, depending about his neck upon his breast. After this the bishop of Lincoln be|gan on thi•• manner.

LINCOLN.

Mr. Latimer, you shall understand, that I and my lords here have a commission from my lord cardinal Poole's grace, legate a latere to this realm of England, from our most reverend father in God, the pope's holiness, to examine you upon certain opinions and assertions of your's, which you, as well here openly in disputations in the year of our Lord 1554, as at sundry and at divers other times, did affirm, maintain, and obstinately defend. In which commission be specially two points; the one which we must desire you is, that if you shall now recant, revoke, and disannul these your errors, and together with all this realm, yea, all the world, confess the truth, we, upon due repentance on your part, shall receive you, reconcile you, acknowledge you no longer a strayed sheep, but adjoin you again to the unity of Christ's church, from which you, in the time of schism, fell. So that it is no new place to which I exhort you; I desire you to return thither from whence you went.

CONSIDER, Mr. Latimer, that without unity of the church there is no salvation, and in the church there be no errors. Therefore what should hinder you to confess that which all the realm confesseth, to forsake that which their majesties the king and queen have renounced, and all the realm recanted: it was a common error, and it is now of all confessed; it will be no more shame to you than it was to us all. Consider, Mr Latimer, that within this twenty years this realm also with all the world confessed one church, acknowledged in Christ's church an head, and by what means, and for what occasion it cut off itself from the rest of christianity, and renounced that which in all times and ages was confessed, it is well known, and might be now declared upon what good foundation the see of Rome was forsaken, save that we must spare them that are dead, to whom the rehearsal would be opprobrious; it is no usurped power, as it hath been termed, but founded upon Peter by Christ, a sure foundation, a perfect builder, as by divers places, as well of the ancient fathers, as by the express word of God may he proved.

WITH that Mr. Latimer, who before leaned his

head, began to remove his cap and kerchief from his ears. The bishop proceeded, saying,

FOR Christ spake expressly to Peter, saying, Feed my sheep, and rule my sheep, which word doth not only declare a certain ruling of Christ's ••••ock, but includeth also a certain pre-eminence and government; and therefore is the king called a King from ruling: so that in saying, Rule, Christ declared a power which he gave to Peter, which jurisdiction and power Peter by hand delivered to Clement, and so in all ages it hath remained in the see of Rome. This, if you will confess with us, and acknowledge with all the realm your errors and false assertions, then will you do what we most desire, then shall we rest upon the first part of our com|mission, then shall we receive you, acknowledge you one of the church, and according to the au|thority given unto us, minister unto you, upon due repentance, the benefit of absolution, to which their majesties the king and queen were not ashamed to submit themselves, although they of themselves were unspotted, and needed no reconciliation: yet lest the putrefaction and rottenness of all the body might be noisome, and do damage to the head also, they (as I said) most humbly submitted themselves to my lord chrdinal's grace, by him, as a legate to the pope's holiness, to be partakers of the re|conciliation. But if you shall stubbornly persevere in your blindness, if you will not acknowledge your errors, if you as you stand alone, will be singular in your opinions, if by schism and heresy you will di|vide yourself from the church, then must we pro|ceed to the second part of the commission, which we would be loth to do, that is, not to condemn you, for that we connot do (that the temporal sword of the realm, and not we will do), but to separate you from us, acknowledge you to be none of us, to renounce you as no member of the church, to declare that you are the son of perdition, a lost child, and as you are a rotten member of the church, so to cut you off from the church, and so to commit you to the temporal judges, permitting them to proceed against you, according to the te|nor of their laws.

THEREFORE, Mr. Latimer, for God's love consider your estate, remember you are a learned man, you have taken degrees in the schools, borne the office of a bishop; remember you are an old man, spare your body, accelerate not your death, and especially remember your soul's health, and the peace of your conscience; consider that if you should die in this state, you shall be a stinking sacrifice to God; for it is the cause that maketh the martyr, and not the death: consider that if you die in this state, you die without grace, for without the church can be no salvation. Let not vain-glory have the upper hand, humble yourself, captivate your understand|ing, subdue your reason, submit yourself to the determination of the church; do not force us to do all that we may do, let us rest in that part which we most heartily desire, and I, for my part,

(then the bishop put off his cap)

again with all my heart exhort you.

AFTER the bishop had somewhat paused, then Mr. Latimer lift up his head

(for before he leaned on his elbow)

and asked whether his lordship had done speaking; and the bishop answered, Yea.

LATIMER.

Then will your lordship give me leave to speak a word or two?

LINCOLN.

Yea, Mr. Latimer, so that you use a modest kind of talk, without railing or taunts.

LATIMER.

I beseech your lordship, license me to sit down.

LINCOLN.

At your pleasure, Mr. Latimer, take as much ease as you will.

LATIMER.

Your lordship gently exhorted me in many words to come to the unity of the church. I confess (my lord) a catholic church, spread throughout all the world, in which no man may err, without which unity of the church no man can be saved, but I know perfectly by God's word that this church is in all the world, and hath not its foun|dation in Rome only, as you say; and methought your lordship brought a place out of the scriptures to confirm the same, that there was a jurisdiction given to Peter, in that Christ bade him govern his people. Indeed, my lord, St. Peter did his office well and truly, in that he was bid to govern: but since the bishops of Rome have taken a new kind of government. Indeed they ought to go|vern, but how, my lord? not as they will them|selves: but this government must be hedged in

and ditched in••••. They must rule, but according to the word of God.

BUT the bishops of Rome have turned the rule according to the word of God, into the rule accor|ing to their own pleasures, and as it pleaseth them best▪ as there is a book set forth which hath divers points in it, and amongst others, this point is one which your lordship went about to prove by this word, and the argument which he bringeth forth for the proof of that matter is taken out of Deuteronomy, where it is said; If there aris••th any controversy among the people, the priests of of the order of Levi shall decide the matter, ac|cording to the law of God; so it must be taken. This book perceiving this authority to be given to the priests of the old law, taketh occasion to prove the same to be given to the bishops and other the clergy of the new law: but in proving this matter, whereas it was said there, as the priests of the order of Levi should determine the matter, according to God's law, that (according to God's law) is left out, and only is recited, as the priests of the order of Levi shall decide the matter, so it ought to be taken of the people; a large autho|rity, I ensure you. What gelding of scripture is this? what clipping of God's coin? with which terms the audience smiled. This is much like the ruling which your lordship talked of. Nay, nay, my lords, we may not give such authority to the clergy, to rule all things as they will. Let them trust themselves within their commission. Now, I keep my lord, I do not rail yet.

LINCOLN.

No, Mr. Latimer, your talk is more like taunts that railing; but in that I have not read the book which you blame so much, nor know of any such, I ••an say nothing therein.

LATIMER.

Yes, my lord, the book is open to be read, and is intitled to one which is bishop of Gloucester, whom I never knew, nei••her did at any time see him to my knowledge. With that the people laughed, because the bishop of Gloucester sat there in commission.

THEN the bishop of Gloucester stood up, and said it was his book.

LATIMER.

Was it your's my lord? Indeed I knew not your lordship, neither ever did I see you before, neither yet see you now through the bright|ness of the sun shining betwixt you and me. Then the audience laughed again; and bishop Latimer spa••e unto them, saying. Why my masters, this i•• no laughing matter. I answer upon life and death Wo unto you that laugh now, for ye shall weep.

THE bishop of Lincoln commanded silence, and then said Mr. Latimer, if you had kept yourself within your bounds, if you had not used such 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and taunts, this had not been done.

AFTER this the bishop of Gloucester said i•• excusing of his book; Mr. Latimer, hereby every man may see what learning you have.

THEN Mr. Latimer interrupted him, saying•• Lo, you look for learning at my hands who have gone so long to the school of oblivion, making the bare walls my library, keeping me so long in priso•• without book, or pen and ink▪ and now you let me lose to come and answer to articles. You deal with me as though two were appointed to fight for life and death, and overnight the one, through friends and favour, is cheri••hed, and hath good counsel given him how to encounter with his ••ne|my. The other, for envy or lack of friends, all the whole night is set in the stocks. In the mor••|ing when they shall meet, the one is in strength and lusty; the other is stist in his limbs, and almost deed for feebleness. Think you, that to run through this man with a spear is not a goodly vic|tory?

BUT the bishop of Gloucester interrupting his answer; proceeded, saying: I went not about to recite any places of scripture in that place of my book, for then if I had not recited it faithfully, you might have had just occasion of reprehension: but I only in that place formed an argument a majore, in this sense; that if in the old law the priests had power to decide matters of controversy, much more then ought the authority to be given to the clergy in the new law: and I pray you, in this point what ava••••eth there rehearsal, According to the law of God?

LATIMER.

Yes, my lord, very much. For I acknowledge authority to be given to the spirituality to decide matters of religion, and as my lord said even now, to rule; but they must do it according to the word and law of God, and not after their own imaginations and fancies.

THE bishop of Gloucester would have spoke more, saving that the bishop of Lincoln said, that they came not to dispute with Mr. Latimer, but to take his determinate answers to their articles, and so began to propose the same articles which were p••oposed to Dr. Ridley. But Mr. Latimer interrupted him speaking to the bishop of Glouces|ter: Well, my lord, I could wish more faithful dealing with God's word, and not ••o leave out a part, and snatch a part here and another there, but to rehearse the whole faithfully.

BUT the bishop of Lincoln, not attending to this saying of bishop Latimer, proceeded in rehearsing the articles, in form and sense as I declared before in the examination of the articles, proposed to Dr. Ridley, and required bishop Latimer's answer to the first, Then bishop Latimer making his protestation, that notwithstanding these his answers it should not be taken that thereby, he should acknowledge any au|thority of the bishop of Rome, saying, that he was the king and queen's majesty's subject, and not the pope's, neither could serve two masters at one time, except ••e should now renounce one of them: required the notaries so to take his protestation, that whatso|ever he should say or do, it should not be taken as though he did thereby agree to any authority that came from the bishop of Rome.

THE bishop of Lincoln said, that his protestation should be so taken; he required him to answer brief|ly, affirmatively or negatively, to the first article, and so recited the same again: and Mr. Latimer answered as followeth:

LATIMER.

I do not deny, my lord, that in the sacrament by spirit and grace is the very body and blood of Christ, because that every man by receiving bodily that bread and wine, spiritually receiveth the body and blood of Christ, and is made partaker thereby of the merits of Christ's passion: but I de|ny that the body and blood of Christ is in such man|ner in the sacrament as you would have it.

LINCOLN.

Then, Mr. Latimer, you answer affirmatively.

LATIMER.

Yea, if you mean of that gross and carnal thing that you do take.

THE notaries took his answer affirmatively.

LINCOLN.

What say you, Mr. Latimer, to the second article? and recited the same.

LATIMER.

There is, my lord, a change in the bread and wine, and such a change as no power, but the omnipotency of God can make, in that which before was bread, should now have the dig|nity to exhibit Christ's body, and yet the bread is still bread, and the wine still wine; for the change is not in the nature, but the dignity, because now that which was common bread hath the dignity to exhibit Christ's body: for whereas it was common bread, it is now no more common bread, neither ought it ••o be so taken, but as holy bread sanctified by God's word.

WITH that the bishop of Lincoln smiled, saying, Lo, Mr. Latimer, see what stedfastness is in your doctrine. That which you abhorred and despised most, you now most establish: for whereas you most railed at holy bread, you now make your commu|nion holy bread.

LATIMER.

Tush, a rush for your holy bread. I say the bread in the communion is an holy bread indeed.

BUT the bishop of Lincoln interrupted him, and said, O, you make a difference betwixt holy bread and holy bread (with that the audience laughed). Well, Mr. Latimer, is not this your answer, that the substance of bread and wine remaineth after the words of consecration?

LATIMER▪

Yes, verily, it must needs be so. For Christ himself calleth it bread, St. Paul calleth it bread, the doctors confess the same, the nature of a sacrament confirmeth the same, and I call it holy bread, not in that I make no difference between your holy bread and this, but for the holy office which it beareth, that is, to be a figure of Christ's

body, and not only a bare figure, but effectually to represent the same.

SO the notaries penned his answer in the affir|mative.

LINCOLN.

What say you to the third question? and recited the same.

LATIMER.

No, no, my lord, Christ made one perfect sacrifice for all the world, neither can any man offer him again, neither can the priest offer up Christ again for the sins of man, which he took a|way by offering himself once for all, (as St. Paul saith) upon the cross, neither is there any propitia|tion for our sins saving his cross only.

SO the notaries penned his answers to this article also affirmatively.

LINCOLN.

What say you to the fourth, Mr. La|timer, and then recited it. After the recital where|of, when Mr. Latimer answered not, the bishop ask|ed whether he heard him or no?

LATIMER.

Yes, but I do not understand what you mean thereby.

LINCOLN.

Marry, only this, that these your assertions were condemned by Dr. Weston, as here|sies; is it not so Mr. Latimer?

LATIMER.

Yes, I think they were condemned. But how unjustly, he that is judge of all knoweth.

THE notaries also took this answer affirmatively.

LINCOLN.

What say you, Mr. Latimer, to the fifth article? and then recited it.

LATIMER.

I know not what you mean by these terms. I am no law••er, I wish you would propose the matter plainly.

LINCOLN.

In that we proceed according to the law, we must use their terms also. The meaning only is this, that these your assertions are notorious, evil spoken of, and yet common and frequent in the mouths of the people.

LATIMER.

I cannot tell how much, nor what men talk of them. I come not so much among them, in that I have been secluded a long time. What men report of them I know not, and care not.

THIS answer taken, the bishop of Lincoln said, Mr. Latimer, we mean not that these your answers shall be prejudicial to you. To-morrow you shall appear before us again, and then it shall be lawful for you to alter and change what you will. We give you respite till to-morrow, trusting that after you have pondered well all things against that time, you will not be ashamed to confess the truth.

LATIMER.

Now, my lord, I pray you give me license in three words to declare the causes why I refused the authority of the pope.

LINCOLN.

Nay, Mr. Latimer, to-morrow you shall have license to speak forty words.

LATIMER.

Nay, my lords, I beseech you to do with me now as it shall please yo•••• lordships; I pray you let me not be troubled to-morrow again.

LINCOLN.

Yes, Mr. Latimer, you must needs appear again to-morrow.

LATIMER.

Truly, my lord, as for my part I require no respite, for I am at a point; you shall give me respite in vain: therefore I pray you let me not trouble you to-morrow.

LINCOLN.

Yes, for we trust God will work with you against to-morrow. There is no remedy, you must needs appear again to-morrow at eight o'clock in St. Mary's church. And forthwith the bishop charged the mayor with Mr. Latimer, and dismissed him, and then brake up their session for that day, about one o'clock in the afternoon.

The Second SESSION.

THE next day following (which was the first of October) somewhat after eight o'clock, the said lords repaired to St. Mary's church, and after they were set in a high throne, well trimmed with cloth of tissue and silk, then appeared Dr. Ridley,

who was set at a framed table a good space from the bishop's feet, which table had a silk cloth cast over it, and the place was encompassed about in a quadrate form, partly for gentlemen who repaired thither, (for this was the sessions day of goal deli|very) and the heads of the university to sit, and partly to keep off the press of the audience: for the whole body, as well of the university as of the town, came hither to see the end of these two per|sons. After Dr. Ridley's appearance, and the silence of the audience, the bishop of Lincoln spake in manner following.

LINCOLN.

Mr. Ridley, yesterday when we chal|lenged you for not uncovering your head, you ex|cused yourself of that whereof no man accused you, in saying you did not put on your cap for any ob|stinacy towards us, who as touching our own per|sons desired no such obedience of you, but only in respect of those whose persons we bear; neither (you said) for any contempt that you bear to this wor|shipful audience, which, although justly, may yet in this case require no such humility of you; neither for any derogation of honour to my lord cardinal's grace, in that he is descended from royal blood, in that he is a man most noble, both for his excellent qualities and singular learning; for as touching those points, you said, you would with all humility, honour, reverence, and worship his grace; but in that he is legate to the most reverend father in God, the pope's holiness,

(with that the bishop, with all then present, put off their caps, but Dr. Ridley moved not his)

you said you neither could, nor would by any means be induced to give him honour: but forasmuch as this is the point as we told you yesterday, why we require honour and reverence of you, we tell you now as we did then, unless you take the pains to move your bonnet, we will take care to cause your bonnent to be taken from you, unless you pretend sickness, as yesterday you did not.

RIDLEY.

I pretend now no other cause than I did yesterday, that is, only that hereby it may ap|pear, that not only in word and confession, but also by all my jesture and behaviour, in no point I agree or admit any authority from the pope, and not for any pride of mind, (as God is my judge) neither for contempt of your lordships, or of this worshipful audience, neither for derogation of honour due to my lord cardinal's grace, as concerning those points which your lordship spake of, that is, his noble parentage, and singular graces in learning. And as for taking my cap away, your lordship may do as it shall please you, it shall not offend me, but I shall be content with your ordinance in that be|half.

LINCOLN.

Forasmuch as you do now answer as you did yesterday, we must do also as we did the••, and forthwith one of his beadles very hastily snatch|ed his cap from his head.

AFTER this the bishop of Lincoln began the ex|amination in the following manner.

LINCOLN.

Mr. Ridley, yesterday we took your answer to certain articles, which we then proposed unto you: but because we could not be thoroughly satisfied with your answer then to the first article, neither could the notaries take any determinate answer of you, we (you requiring the same) granted you license to bring your answer in writing, and thereupon commanded the mayor that you should have pen, paper, and ink, yea, any books also that you would require, if they were to be gotten; we licensed you then also to alter your former an|swers this day at your pleasure: therefore we are now come hither, to see whether you are in the same mind now, that you were yesterday (which we would not wish) or contrary, contented to re|voke all your former assertions, and in all points consent to submit yourself to the determination of the universal church, and I for my part most ear|nestly exhort you,

(and therewith he put off his cap)

not because my conscience pricketh me, as you said yesterday, but because I see you a rotten member, and in the way of perdition.

YESTERDAY I brought forth amongst others, St. Augustine, to prove that authority hath always been given to the see of Rome, and you wrested the words far contrary to St. Augustine's meaning, in that you would have all the world to be applied only to Europe, which is but a third part of all the world, whereas indeed the process of St. Augustine's words will not admit of your interpretation. For he saith not, All the christian countries beyond the

seas, &c. but first, All the christian countries are subject to the see of Rome, afterwards add••th, Be|yond the sea, but only to augment the dominion of the see of Rome.

BUT Dr. Ridley still persevered in his former answer, saying, I am sure, my lord, you have some skill in Cosmography, in which you shall understand that there is a sea called, The Mediterranean sea, cast between Europe and Africa, in which he meant Europe beyond the sea, even as if I should say the whole world beyond the sea, excepting England in which I stand. And here many words were spent upon the interpretation of the same place of St. Austin.

AFTER long disputation, the bishop of Lincoln said, that the meaning of St. Augustine might be known by the consent of the other doctors, and re|hearsed divers.

BUT as Dr. Ridley required the rehearsal of the places, and to read the very words of the doctors, saying, that perhaps those which the bishop rehears|ed, being proposed in other terms in the doctors, would admit a contrary meaning and interpretation: but in that book out of which the bishop rehearsed them, was none of the doctors, but only some sentences drawn out of the doctors by some studious man: he could not recite the very words of the doctors.

THEN after the bishop of Lincoln mentioned Cy|ril, who (as he said) made against Mr. Ridley, in the sacrament, even by Philip Melancthon's own alledging in his ••••mmon places, and forthwith called for Melancthon, but in vain, because all such books were burned a little before, wherefore he passed it over.

CYRIL also in another place proving to the Jews that Christ was come, useth this reason, Altars are erected in Christ's name in Britain, and in far coun|tries: Ergo, Christ is come. But we may use the contrary of that reason; Altars are plucked down in Britain: Ergo, Christ is not come. A good argument a contrariis. I will stand to it in the schools by and with any man. You see what a good argument this your doctrine maketh for the ••ews, to prove that Christ is not come.

DR. RIDLEY smiling, answered, Your lordship is not ignorant that this word Altar in the scripture signifieth as well the altar whereupon the Jews were wont to make their burnt sacrifices, as the table of the Lord's supper. Cyril meaneth there by this word Altars, not the Jewish altar, but the table of the Lord, and by that saying (Altars are erected in Christ's name, Ergo, Christ is come) he mean|eth, that the communion is administered in his re|membrance: Ergo, Christ is come: for the strength of his argument is, because the remembrance of a thing cannot be, except itself be part: then could not all countries celebrate the communion in re|membrance of Christ's passion, except Christ had been come and suffered. As for the taking down of the altars, it was done upon just considerations, for that they seemed to come too nigh to the Jewish usage. Neither was the supper of the Lord at any time better administered, or more duly received, than in those latter days when all things were brought to the rites and usage of the primitive church.

LINCOLN.

A goodly receiving, I promise you, to set an oyster-table instead of an altar, and to come from puddings at Westminster to receive; and yet when your ••able was constituted, you could never be content, in placing the same, now East, now North, now one way, then another, until it pleased God of his goodness to place it clean out of the church.

RIDLEY.

Your lordship's irreverent terms do not elevate the thing. Perhaps some men came more devoutly from puddings, than other men do now from other things.

LINCOLN.

As for that, Mr. Ridley, you ought to be judge of no man: but by this your reasoning you cause us to stretch and inlarge our instructions. We came not to reason, but to take your determi|nate answers to our articles, and then he read the first article in manner above specified.

NOW, Mr. Ridley, what say you to the first

article? If you have brought your answer in wri|ting, we will receive it: but if you have any other matter, we will not receive it.

THEN Dr. Ridley took a sheet of paper out of his bosom, and began to read that which he had written, but the bishop of Lincoln commanded the beadle to take it from him. But he desired license to read it, saying, that it was nothing but his an|swers, but the bishop would in no wise suffer him.

RIDLEY.

Why, my lord, will you require my answer, and not suffer me to publish it? I beseech you, my lord, let the audience bear witness to your doings.

LINCOLN.

Well, Mr. Ridley, we will first see what you have written, and then if we shall think it good to be read, you shall have it published; but except you will deliver it first, we we will take none at all of you.

WITH that Dr. Ridley, seeing no remedy, deli|vered it to an officer, who immediately delivered it to the bishop of Lincoln, who after he had secretly communicated it to the other two bishops, declared the sense, but would not read it as it was written, saying, that it contained words of blasphemy: there|fore he would not fill the ears of the audience there|withal, and so abuse their patience: notwithstanding Dr. Ridley desired very instantly to have it publish|ed, saying, that except a line or two, there was nothing contained but the ancient fathers saying for the confirmation of his assertions.

AFTER the said bishops had secretly viewed the whole, the then bishop Lincoln said: In the first part, Mr. Ridley, is nothing contained but your protestation, that you would no•• have these your answers to be taken, as though you seemed thereby to consent to the authority or jurisdiction of the pope's holiness.

RIDLEY.

No, my lord, I pray you read it out that the audience may hear it: but the bishop of Lincoln would in no wise, because (he said) there were contained words of blasphemy.

THEN the bishop of Lincoln recited the first ar|ticle, and required Dr. Ridley's answer to it. Then Dr. Ridley said, that his answer was there in wri|ting, and desired that it might be published; but the bishop would not read the whole, but here and there a piece of it. So the notaries took his answer, that he referred them to his answer in writing exhi|bited now, and also before at the time of disputation, Dr. Weston being prolocutor.

IN like manner the bishop of Lincoln recited the second article, and required an answer, and Dr. Ridley referred him to his answer in writing exhibi|ted now, and also before at the time of disputation: and like answers were taken to all the rest of the articles.

THESE answers in this manner rehearsed, taken and penned by the notaries, the bishop of Glouce|ster began an exhortation to move Dr. Ridley to turn.

GLOUCESTER.

If you would once empty your stomach, captivate your senses, subdue your reason, and togethe•• with us consider what a feeble ground of your religion you have, I do not doubt but you might easily be brought to acknowledge one church with us, to confess one faith with us, and to be|lieve one religion with us. For what a weak and feeble stay in religion is this, I pray you? Latimer leaneth to Cranmer, Cranmer to Ridley, and Rid|ley, to the singularity of his own wit: so that if you overthrow the singularity of Ridley's wit, then must needs the religion of Cranmer and Latimer fall also. You remember well, Mr. Ridley, that the prophet speaketh most truly, saying, Woe, woe be to them which are singular and wise in their own conceits.

BUT you will say here, it is true that the prophet saith: but how know you, that I am wise in mine own conceit? Yes, Mr. Ridley, you refuse the determination of the catholic church; you must needs be singular and wise in your own conceit, for you bring scripture for the proof of your assertions, and we also bring scriptures: you understand them in one sense, and we in another. How will you know the truth herein? If you stand to your own interpretation, then you are singular in your own conceit: but if you say you will follow the minds of the doctors and ancient fathers, likely you un|derstand them in one meaning, and we take them

in another: how will you know the truth herein? If you stand to your own judgment, then are you singular in your own conceit, then ••an you not avoid the woe which the prophet speaketh of.

WHEREFORE if you have no stay but the catholic church in matters of controversy, except you will rest upon the singularity and wisdom of your own brain, if the prophet most truly saith, Wee, woe be to them that are wise in their own conceit: then for God's love, Dr. Ridley, stand not singular, be not you wise in your own conceit, please not your|self overmuch. How were the Arians, the Mani|chees, Eutychians, with divers other hereties which have been in the church, how, I pray you, were they suppressed and convinced? By reasoning in disputations? No truly, the Arians had no more places for the confirmation of their heresy, than the catholics for the defence of the truth. How then were they convinced? Only by the determination of the church. And indeed except we do constitute the church our foundation, stay, and judge, we can have no end of controversies, no end of disputations. For in that we all bring scriptures and doctors for the proof of our assertions, who shall be judge of this our controversy? If we ourselves then be sin|gular and wise in our own conceits then cannot we avoid the woe that the prophet speaketh of.

IT remaineth therefore that we submit, ourselves to the determination and a••bitrement of the church, with whom God p••omised to remain to the world's end, to whom he promised to send the Holy Ghost which should teach it the truth. Wherefore, Mr. Ridley, if you will avoid the woe that the prophet speaketh of, be not wise in your own judgment: if you will no•• be wise and singular in your own judgment, captivate your own understanding, subdue your rea|son, and submit yourself to the determination of the church.

THIS is briefly the sum of the oration of the bi|shop of Gloucester, by which he ende••vored in many more words, amplifying and enlarging the matter eloquently with sundry points of rhetoric to move affections, to persuade Dr. Ridley to turn and for|sake his religion.

TO whom Dr. Ridley answered in few words, That he said most truly with the prophet, Woe 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to him that is wise in his own conceit; but that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 acknowledgeth no such singularity in him, nor 〈◊〉〈◊〉 any cause why he should attribute so much to himself. And whereas he said bishop Cranmer leaned to him, that was most untrue, in that he was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 young scholar in comparison of Dr. Cranmer; for when he was but a young scholar. Mr. Cranmer was then a doctor; so that he confessed Mr. Cran|mer might have been his schoolmaster for many years. It seemed that he would have spoke more, but the bishop of Gloucester interrupted him, say|ing:

WHY, Mr. Ridley, it is your own confession, for Mr. Latimer, at the time of his disputation, confessed his learning to ••ie in Mr. Cranmer's books, and Mr. Cranmer also said that it was your doing.

THE bishop of Lincoln likewise with many words, and gently holding his c••p in his hand, de|sired him to turn. But Dr. Ridley made an abso|lute answer, That he was fully persuaded the religion which he defended to be grounded upon God's word, and therefore without great offence towards God, great peril and damage of his soul, he could not forsake his master and Lord God; but desired the bishop to perform his grant, in that his lordship said the day before, that he should have license to shew his cause, why he could not with a safe conscience admit the authority of the pope. But the bishop of Lincoln said, that whereas then he had demanded license to speak three words, he was contented then that he should speak forty, and that grant he would perform.

THEN stepped forth Dr. Weston, who sat by, and said, Why, my lord, he hath spoken four hundred already.

DR. RIDLEY confessed he had, but they were not of his prescribed number, neither of that matter. The bishop of Lincoln ••ade him take his license: but he should speak but forty, and then he would tell them upon his fingers; and presently Dr. Rid|ley began to speak: but before he had ended half a sentence, the doctors sitting by, cried out, and said, that his number was out; and with that he was put to silence.

AFTER this the bishop of Lincoln, who sat in the midst, beg••n to speak as followeth:

NOW I perceive, Mr. Ridley, you will not per|mit nor suffer us to stay in that point of our com|mission which we most desired: for indeed, for my part, I take God to witness, I am sorry for you. Whereupon Dr. Ridley answered:

I believe it well, my lord, forasmuch as one day it will be burdensome to your soul.

LINCOLN.

Nay, not so, Mr. Ridley, but be|cause I am sorry to see such stubbornness in you, that by no means you may be persuaded to acknow|ledge your errors, and receive the truth: but see|ing it is so, because you will not suffer us to persist in the first, we must of necessity proceed to the other part of our commission. Therefore I pray you hearken to what I shall say, and forthwith he read in the sentence of condemnation, which was written a long process: ••he tenor of which as it is sufficient|ly already expressed before, we thought meet in this place to omit, forasmuch as they are rather words of course than things devised upon deliberation. Howbeit indeed the effect was that forasmuch as the said N••cholas Ridley did affirm, maintain, and stubbornly defend certain opinions, assertions, and heresies, contrary to the word of God, and the received faith of the church, as in denying the true and natura•• body of Christ, and his natural blood, to be in the sacrament of the altar: secondly, in affirming the substance of bread and wine to remain after the words of consecration: thirdly, in denying the mass to be a lively sacrifice of the church for the quick and the dead, and by no means would be brought from these his heresies: they therefore, the said John of Lincoln, James of Gloucester, John of Bristol, did judge and condemn the said Nicholas Ridley as an heretic, and so adjudged him presently, both by word and also in deed, to be degraded from the degree of a bishop, from priest|hood, and all ecclesiastical order; declaring more|over the said Nicholas Ridley to be no member of the church, and therefore comitted him to the secu|lar powers, of them to receive due punishment according to the tenor of the temporal laws; and further excommunicating him by the great excom|munication.

The last Appearance and Examination of Bishop LATIMER before the Commissioners.

THIS sentence being published by the bishop of Lincoln, Dr. Ridley was committed as a personer to the mayor, and immediately Mr. Lati|mer was sent for: but in the mean time the carp•••• or cloth which lay on the table whereat Dr Ridley stood, was removed, because (as men reported) Mr. Latimer had never the degree of a doctor, as Dr. Rid|ley had. But as soon as Mr. Latimer appeared, •••• he did the day before, perceiving no cloth upon the table, he laid his 〈◊〉〈◊〉, which was an ••••d felt, under his el|bows, and immediately spake to the commissioner••, saying:

LATIMER.

My lords, I beseech your lordships to set a better order here at your entrance▪ for I am an old man, and have a very sore back, so that the press of the multitude doth me much harm.

LINCOLN.

I am sorry, Mr. Latimer, for your hurt. At your departure we will see to better order.

WITH that Mr. Latimer thanked his lordship, making a very low courtesy. After this the bishop of Lincoln began in this manner.

MR. LATIMER, although yesterday, after 〈◊〉〈◊〉 had taken your answers to those articles which we proposed, we might have justly proceeded to judg|ment against you, especially in that you required the same; yet we having a good hope of your re|turning, desiring not your destruction, but rather that you would recant, revoke your errors, and turn to the catholic church, deferred farther process till this day; and now according to the appoint|ment, we have called you here before us, to hear whether you are content to revoke your heretical assertions, and submit yourself to the determination of the church, as we most heartily desire, and I for my part, as I did yesterday, most earnestly do ex|hort you, or to know whether you persevere still the man that you were, for which we would be sorry.

IT seemed that the bishop would have further proceeded, if Mr. Latimer had not interrupted him by saying:

YOUR lordship doth often repeat the catholic church, as though I should deny the same. No, my lord, I confess there is a catholic church, to the determination of which I will stand, but not the church which you call catholic, which ought rather to be termed diabolic. And whereas you join to|gether the Romish and catholic church, stay there, I pray you. For it is one thing to say the Romish church, and another thing to say catholic church: I must use here in this mine answer the counsel of Cyprian, who when cited before certain bishops that gave him leave to take deliberation and counsel, to try and examine his opinion, he answereth them thus: In sticking and persevering in the truth, there must no counsel or deliberation be taken. And again, being demanded of them sitting in judgment, which was most like to be of the church of Christ, whether he who was persecuted, or they who did persecute? Christ, said he, hath foreshewed, that he that doth follow him, must take up his cross. Christ gave knowledge that his disciples should have persecution and trouble. How think you then, my lords, is it like that the see of Rome, which hath been a continual persecutor, is rather the church, or that small flock which hath continually been persecuted by it, even to death? Also the flock of Christ hath been but few in comparison to the residue, and ever in subjection: which he pro|ved, beginning at Noah's time, even to the apo|stles.

LINCOLN.

Your cause and Cyprian's is not one, but clean contrary; for he suffered persecution for the sake of Christ and his gospel; but you are in trouble for your errore and false assertions, contrary to the word of God, and the received truth of the church.

MR. LATIMER interrupted him, saying, Yes, verily, my cause is as good as St Cyprian's: for his was for the word of God, and so is mine.

LINCOLN.

Also at the beginning and foundation of the church, it could not be but that the apostles should suffer great persecution. Further, before Christ's coming, continually there were very few which truly served God: but after his coming began the time of grace, then began the church to increase, and was continually augmented, until it came unto this perfection, and now hath justly that jurisdiction which the unchristian princes before by tyranny did resist▪ there is a diverse consideration of the state of the church now in the time of grace, and before Christ's coming. But, Mr. Latimer, although we had instructions given us determinate|ly to take your answer to such articles as we should propose, without any reasoning or disputations, yet we hoping by talk somewhat to prevail with you, appointed you to appear before us in the divinity-school, a place for disputations. And whereas then notwithstanding you had license to speak your mind, and were answered to every matter, yet you could not be brought from your errors; we thinking that from that time you would with good conversation ponder your state, gave you a respite from that time yesterday, when we dismissed you, until this time, and now have called you again here in this place, by your answers to learn whether you are the same man you were then or no? Therefore we will propose unto you the same articles which we did then, and require of you a determinate answer, without further reasoning, and he immediately re|cited the first article.

LATIMER.

Always my protestation saved, that by these 〈◊〉〈◊〉 answers it should not be thought that I did condescend and agree to your lordship's autho|rity, in that you are legated by authority of the pope, so that thereby I might seem to consent to his jurisdiction: to the first article I answer now as I did yesterday, that in the sacrament the worthy receiver receiveth the very body of Christ, and drinketh his blood by the spirit and grace. But after a corporal being, which the Romish church prescribeth Christ's body and blood is not in the sacrament under the forms of bread and wine.

THE notaries took his answer affirmatively. For the second article he referred himself to his answers made before.

AFTER this the bishop of Lincoln recited the third article, and required a determinate answer.

LATIMER.

Christ made one oblation and sacri|fice for the sins of the world, and that a perfect sa|crifice;

neither needeth there to be any other, nei|ther can there be any other propitiatory sacrifice.

THE notaries took his answer affirmatively.

IN like manner did he answer to the other arti|cles, not varying from his answers made the day before.

AFTER his answers were penned by the notaries, and the bishop of Lincoln had exhorted him in like manner to recant as he did Dr. Ridley, and revoke his errors and false assertions, and Mr. Latimer had answered that he neither would nor could deny his master Christ and his verity, the bishop of Lincoln desired Mr. Latimer to hearken to him: and then Mr. Latimer hearkening for some new matter and other talk, the bishop of Lincoln read his condemnation, after which the said three bishops brake up their sessions, and dismissed the audience.

BUT Mr. Latimer required the bishop to perform his promise, in saying the day before that he should have license briefly to declare the cause why he re|fused the pope's authority.

BUT the bishop of Lincoln said, that now he could not hear him, neither ought to talk with him.

THEN Mr. Latimer asked him, whether it were not lawful for him to appeal from his judgment. And the bishop asked him again, to whom he would appeal. To the next general council, said Mr. La|timer, which shall be truly called in God's name. With that appellation the bishop was content: but he said it would be a long season before such con|vocation as he meant would be called.

THEN the bishop committed Mr. Latimer to the mayor, saying, Now he is your prisoner, Mr. Mayor. Because the press of the people was not diminished▪ each man looking for farther process, the bishop of Lincoln commanded avoidance, and desired Mr. Latimer to tarry till the press was diminished, lest he should take hurt at his going out, as he did at his entrance. And so Dr. Ridley and Mr. Latimer continued in custody till the 16th day of the said mouth of October.

A Communication between Dr. Brooks, Bishop of Glou|cester, and Dr. Ridley, in the House of Mr. Irish, Mayor of Oxford, October 15, 1555, at which Time he was degraded.

ON the 15th day in the morning, Dr. Brooks, bishop of Gloucester, and the vice-chancellor of Oxford, Dr. Marshall, with divers other of the chief and heads of the same university, and many others accompanying them, came to the house of Mr. Irish, then mayor of Oxford, where Dr. Rid|ley, late bishop of London, was close prisoner. And when the bishop of Gloucester came into the cham|ber where the said Dr. Ridley did he, he told him for what purpose their coming was unto him, say|ing, That yet once again the queen's majesty did offer unto him by them▪ her gracious mercy, if that he would receive the same, and come home again to the faith which he was baptized in an•• revoke his erroneous doctrine that he of late had tau••••t abroad, to the destruction of many. And further said, That if he would not recant and become one of the catholic church with them, then they must needs (against their wills) proceed according to the law, which they would be very loth to do, if they might otherwise. But, said he, we have been often|times with you, and have requested that you would recant this your fantastical and devilish opinion, which hitherto you have not, although you might in so doing win many, and do much good. There|fore, good Mr. Ridley, consider with yourself the danger that shall ensue both of body and soul, if that you shall so wilfully cast yourself away in re|fusing mercy offered unto you at this time.

MY lord, said Dr. Ridley, you know my mind fully herein; and as for the doctrine which I have taught, my conscience assureth me that it was sound, and according to God's word (to his glory be it spoken); which doctrine, the Lord God being my helper, I will maintain so long as my tongue shall wag, and breath is within my body, and in confir|mation thereof seal the same with my blood.

BROOKS.

Well, it were best, Mr. Ridley, not to do so, but to become of the church with us. For you know this well enough, that whosoever is out of the catholic church cannot be saved. Therefore I say once again, that while you have time and mercy

offered you, receive it, and confess with us the pope's holiness to be the chief head of the same church.

RIDLEY.

I marvel that you will trouble me with any such vain and foolish talk. You know my mind concerning the usurped authority of that Romish antichrist. As I confessed openly in the schools, so do I now, that both by my behaviour and talk I do no obedience at all unto the bishop of Rome, nor to his usurped authority, and that for divers good and godly considerations. And here Dr. Ridley would have reasoned with the said Brooks, bishop of Glou|cester▪ concerning the bishop of Rome▪ authority, but could not be suffered, and yet he spake so ear|nestly against the pope therein, that the bishop told him, if he would not hold his peace, he should be compelled against his will. And seeing, saith he, that you will not receive the queen's mercy now offered unto you, but stubbornly refuse the same, we must, against our wills, proceed according to our commission to degrading, taking from you the dig|nity of priesthood. For we take you for no bishop, and therefore we will the sooner have done with you: so committing you to the secular power, you know what doth follow.

RIDLEY.

Do with me as it shall please God to suffer you, I am well content to abide the same with all my heart.

BROOKS.

Put off your cap, and put on you this surplice.

RIDLEY.

Not I truly.

BROOKS.

But you must.

RIDLEY.

I will not.

BROOKS.

You must, therefore make no more ado but put this surplice upon you.

RIDLEY.

Truly if it come upon me, it shall be against my will.

BROOKS.

Will you not put it upon you?

RIDLEY.

No, that I will not.

BROOKS.

It shall be put upon you by one or other.

RIDLEY.

Do therein as it shall please you, I am well content with th••t, and more than that the servant is not above his master. If they dealt so cruelly with our Saviour Christ, as the scripture maketh mention, and he suffered the same patiently, how much more doth it become us his servants? And in saying these words they put upon the said Dr. Ridley a surplice, with all the trinkets apper|taining to the mass. And as they were putting on the same, Dr. Ridley did vehemently inveigh against the Romish bishop, and all that foolish apparel, calling him Antichrist, and apparel foolish and abo|minable, yea, too foolish for a device in a play, in|somuch that Brooks was exceeding angry with him, and bade him hold his peace, for he did but rail. Dr. Ridley answered him again, and said, So long as his tongue and breath would suffer him, he would speak against their abominable doings, whatsoever happened unto him for so doing.

BROOKS.

Well, you had best hold your peace, lest your mouth be stopped. At which words one Edrige, the reader then of the Greek lecture, stand|ing by, said to Dr. Brooks, Sir, the law is that he should be gagged, therefore let him be gagged. At which words Dr. Ridley looking earnestly upon him that so said, shook his head at him, and made no answer; but said with a sigh, Oh well, well, well.

SO they proceeded in their doings, yet neverthe|less Dr. Ridley was ever speaking things not plea|sant to their ears, although one or other bade him hold his peace, lest he should be caused against his will.

BUT when they came to that place where Dr. Ridley should hold the chalice and the wafer cake (called singing-bread) they bade him hold the same in his hands: Dr. Ridley said, They shall not come into my hands; for if they do, they shall fall to the ground for me. Then there was one appointed to hold them in his hand, while bishop Brooks read a certain thing in Latin, touching the degradation of spiritual persons, according to the pope's law.

THEN they put a book in his hand, and read another thing in Latin, the effect whereof was, "We do take from thee the office of preaching the

gospel," &c. At which words Dr. Ridley gave a great sigh, looking up towards heaven, saying, O Lord God, forgive them this their wickedness.

HAVING put on him the mass-gear, they began to take it away (beginning with the uppermost gar|ment), again reading a thing in Latin, according to the pope's law. Now when all was taken from him, saving only the surplice left on his back, as they were reading and taking it away, Dr. Ridley said unto them, Lord God, what power be you of, that you can take from a man that which he never had? I was never a singer in all my life, and yet you will take from me that which I never had.

SO when this their abominable and ridiculous de|gradation was ended very solemnly, Dr. Ridley said unto Dr. Brooks, Have you done? If you have done, then give me leave to talk a little concerning these matters. Brooks answered and said, Mr. Ridley, we ma•• not t••lk with you, you be out of the church▪ and our law is, that we may not talk with any that be out of the church. Then Dr. Ridley said Seeing that you will not suffer me to talk▪ neither will vouchsafe to hear me, what reme|dy but patience? I refer my cause to my heavenly Father, who will reform things that be amiss, when it shall please him.

AT which words they would have been gone, but Mr. Ridley said, My lord I would wish that your lordship would vouchsafe to read over and peruse a little book of Bertram's writing, concerning the sacrament. I promise you, you shall find much good learning therein, if you will read the same with an indifferent judgment. To which Dr. Brooks made no answer, but was going away. Then said Dr. Ridley, Oh, I perceive you cannot away with this manner of talk. Well, as it is to no purpose, I will say no more; I will speak of worldly affairs. I pray you therefore, my lord, hear me, and be a means to the queen's majesty, in behalf of a great many poor men, especially my poor sister and her husband, who standeth there. They had a poor living granted unto them by me when I was in the see of London, which is taken away from them, by him that occupieth the same room, without all law or conscience.

HERE I have a supplication to the queen's majesty in their behalf. You shall hear the same read, ••o shall you perceive the matter better. Then he read the same, and when he came to the place in the sup|plication that touched his sister by name, he wept, so that for a little time he could not speak for weep|ing. But recovering himself, he said; This is nature that moveth me, but I have now done: and with that read out the rest, and delivered the same unto his brother, commanding him to put it up to the queen's majesty, and to sue not only for himself, but also for such as had any leases or grants by him, and were put from the same by Dr. Bonner, then bishop of London. Whereunto Brooks said, Indeed, M••. Ridley, your request in this supplication is very lawful and honest: therefore I must needs in con|science speak to the queen's majesty for them.

RIDLEY.

I pray for God's sake do so.

BROOKS.

I think your request will be granted, except one thing hinder it, and that is (I fear) be|cause you do not allow the queen's proceedings, but obstinately withstand the same, that it will hardly be granted.

RIDLEY.

What remedy? I can do no 〈◊〉〈◊〉 but speak and write. I trust I have discharged 〈◊〉〈◊〉 conscience therein, and God's will be done.

BROOKS.

I will do what lieth in me.

A Copy of the Supplication written to the Queen.

Dr. Ridley to the Queen's majesty.

MAY it please your majesty, for Christ our Saviour's sake, in a matter of conscience (and not for myself, but for other poor men) to vouch|safe to hear and understand this humble supplica|tion. It is so (honourable princess) that in the time while I was in the ministry of the see of London, divers poor men, tenants thereof, have taken new leases of their tenantries and holdings: and some have renewed and changed their old, and therefore have payed fines and sums of money, both to me and to the chapter of St. Paul's, for the confirma|tion of the same.

NOW I say, that the bishop, who at present occu|pieth the same room, will not allow the aforesaid leases, which must redound to many a poor man's utter ruin and decay. Wherefore is is mine humble supplication unto your honourable grace, that it may please the same, for Christ's sake, to be unto the aforesaid poor men their gracious patroness and defender, either that they may enjoy their afore|said leases and years renewed, as I suppose when their matter shall be heard with conscience, both justice, conscience, and equity shall require, for that their leases shall be found (I trust) made without fraud or cunning, either on their part, or of mine, and always also the old rents reserved to the see, without any kind of damage thereof: or if this will not be granted, that then it may please your gracious highness, to command that the poor men may be restored to their former leases and years, and to have rendered to them again such sums of money as they paid to me and to the Chapter-house for their leases and years, so now taken from them. Which thing, concerning the fines paid to me, may be easily done, if it shall please your majesty to com+mand some portion of those goods which I left in my house, when I fled in hope of pardon for my trespass towards your grace, which goods (as I have heard) be yet reserved in the same house. I sup|pose that half the value of my plate that I left in mine offices, and especially in an iron chest in my bed-chamber, will go nigh to restore all such fines received, the true sums and parcels whereof are not set in their leases: and therefore if that way shall please your highness, they must be known by such ways and means as your majesty, by the advice of men of wisdom and conscience, shall appoint: but yet, for Christ's sake, I crave and humbly be|seech your majesty, of your gracious pity and mer|cy, that the former way may take place.

I have also a poor sister that came to me out of the north, with three fatherless children, whom I married after to a servant of mine own house; she is put out of that which I did provide for them. I beseech your honourable grace, that her case may be mercifully considered, and that the rather, in con|templation that I never had of him, which suffered indurance at my entrance into the see of London, not one penny of his moveable goods, for it was al|most half a year after his deposition before I entered into that place; yea, and also if any were left, known to be his, he had license to carry it away, or there for his use it did lie safe, as his officers do know. I paid for the lead which I found there, when I occupied any of it to the behoof of the church or of the house. And moreover, I had 〈◊〉〈◊〉 part of his moveable goods, but also (as his ol•• receiver, and then mine, called Mr. Stanton, can testify) I paid for them towards his servants' com|mon liveries and wages, after his deposition, fifty-three or fifty-five pounds, I cannot tell which.

IN all these matters I beseech your honourable majesty to h••ar the advice of men of c••••science▪ ••nd especially the archbishop of York; which for that he was continually in my house a year and more, before mine imprisonm••nt, I suppose he is not alto|gether ignorant of some part of these things; and also his grace doth know my sister, for whose suc|cour, and some relief, now unto your highness I make humble suit.

N. R.

October 16, 1555.

THE degradation being past, and all things finish|ed, Dr. Brooks called the bailiffs, delivering to them Dr. Ridley, with this charge, to keep him safely from any man speaking with him, and that he should be brought to the place of execution when they were commanded Then Dr. Ridley in prai|sing God, burst out in these words, and said, God, I thank thee, and to thy praise be it spoken, there is none of you all able to lay to my charge any open or notorious crime: for if you could, it would sure|ly be laid in my lap, I see very well. Whereunto Brooks said, he played the part of a proud pharisee, exalting and praising himself.

BUT Dr. Ridley said, No, no, no; as I have said before, to God's glory be it spoken. I confess my|self to be a miserable sinner, and have great need of God's help and mercy, and do daily call and cry for the s••me: therefore I pray you have no such opi|nion of me. Then they departed, and in going away, a certain warden of a college, of whose name I am not sure, advised D•• Ridley to repent and forsake that erroneous opinion. Whereunto Dr.

Ridley said, Sir, repent you, for you are out of the truth: and, I pray God, (if it be his blessed will) have mercy upon you, and grant you the under|standing of his word. Then the warden, being in a passion thereat, said, I trust that I shall never be of your erroneous and devilish opinion, either yet to be in that place whither you shall go. He is, saith he, the most obstinate and wilful man that I ever heard talk since I was born.

The Behaviour of Dr. RIDLEY at his Supper, the Night before his Suffering.

THE night before he suffered, his beard was washed and his legs; and as he sat at supper, the same night, at the house of Mr. Irish, (who was his keeper) he asked his hostess, and the rest at the table, to his marriage: for, said he, to••morrow I must be married, and so shewed himself to be as merry as ever he was at any time before. And wishing his sister at his marriage, he asked his bro|ther, sitting at the table, whether she could find in her heart to be there or no: and he answered, Yea, I dare say, with all her heart. At which word he said, He was glad to hear of her so much therein. At this discourse Mrs. Irish wept.

BUT Dr. Ridley comforted her, and said, O Mrs. Irish, you love me not now, I see well enough; for in that you weep, it doth appear you will not be at my marriage, neither are con••ent therewith. In|deed you be not so much my friend, as I thought you had been. But quiet yourself, though my breakfast shall be somewhat sharp and painful, yet I am sure my supper shall be more pleasant and sweet

WHEN they arose from the table, his brother of|fered to stay all night with him. But he said, No, no, that you shall not. For I intend (God willing) to go to bed, and to sleep as quietly to night, as ever I did in my life. So his brother departed, exhort|ing him to be of good cheer, and to take the cross quietly, for the reward was great, &c.

The Behaviour of Dr. RIDLEY and Mr. LATIMER, at the Time of their Death, October 1••th, 1555.

UPON the north side of the town, in the ditch over against Baliol-college, the place of exe|cution was appointed: and for fear of any tumult that might arise to hinder the burning of them, the lord Williams was commanded by the queen's let|ters, and the householders of the city, to be there assistant, sufficiently appointed; and when every thing was in readiness, the prisoners were brought forth by the mayor and bailiffs.

DR. RIDLEY had a fair black gown furred, and faced with foins, such as he was wont to wear being bishop, and a tippet of velvet furred likewise about his neck, a velvet night-cap upon his head, and a corner-cap upon the same, going in a pair of slip|pers to the stake, and going between the mayor and an alderman, &c.

AFTER him came Mr. Latimer in a poor Bristow freeze frock much worn, with his buttoned cap and kerchief on his head, all ready to the fire, a new long shroud hanging over his hose down to his feet: which at the first fight stirred men's hearts to pity them, beholding on the one side the honour they sometime had, and on the other the calamity where|unto they were fallen.

DR. RIDLEY, as he passed toward Bocardo, look|ed up where Dr. Cranmer lay, hoping belike to have seen him at the glass-window, and to have spoke unto him. But Dr. Cranmer was then busy with friar Soto and his fellows disputing together, so that he could not see him through that occasion. Then Dr. Ridley looking back, espied Mr. Lati|mer coming after. Unto whom he said, Oh, be you there? Yea, said Mr. Latimer, have after as fast as I can follow. So he following a pretty way off, at length they came to the stake, the one after the other▪ where first Dr. Ridley entering the place, marvellously and earnestly holding up both his hands, looked towards heaven: then shortly after seeing Mr. Latimer, with a wondrous chearful look he ran to him, embraced and kissed him, and as they that stood near reported, comforted him, saying, Be of good heart, brother, for God will either assuage the fury of the flame, or else strengthen us to a|bide it.

WITH that he went to the stake, kneeled down by it, and earnestly prayed, and behind him Mr. Latimer kneeled, as earnestly calling upon God as he. After they arose, the one talked with the

other a little while, till those who were appointed to see the execution removed themselves out of the fun. What they said I can learn of no man.

THEN Dr. Smith began his sermon to them upon this text of St. Paul, in the 13th chapter of the first epistle to the Corinthians: "If I yield my body to the fire to be burnt, and have not charity, I shall gain nothing thereby." Wherein he alledged, that the goodness of the cause, and not the order of death, maketh the holiness of the person: which he con|firmed by the examples of Judas, and of a woman in Oxford that of late hanged herself, for that they and such like as he recited, might then be adjudged righteous, which desperately separated their lives from their bodies, as he feared that those men that stood before him would do. But he cried still to the people to beware of them, for they were here|tics, and died out of the church. And on the other side, he declared their diversities in opinions, as Lu|therans, Oecolampadians, Zuinglians, of which sect they were he said, and that was the worst: but the old church of Christ, and the catholic faith, believed far otherwise. At which place they lifted up both their hands and eyes to heaven, as it were calling God to witness of the truth. Which countenance they made in many other places of his sermon, where they thought he spake amiss. He ended with a very short exhortation to them to recant and come home again to the church, and save their lives and souls, which else were condemned. His ser|mon was scarce in all a quarter of an hour.

DR. RIDLEY said to Mr. Latimer, Will you be|gin to answer the sermon, or shall I? Mr. Latimer said, Begin you first, I pray you. I will, said Dr. Ridley.

THEN the wicked sermon being ended, Dr. Rid|ley and Mr. Latimer kneeled down on their knees to my lo••d Williams, of Tame▪ the vice-chancellor of Oxford, and divers other commissioners appoint••ed for that purpose, who sat upon a fo••m thereby Unto whom Dr. Ridl•••• said, I beseech you, my lord, even for Christ's sake, that I may speak but two or three wor••s: and whilst my lord bent his head to the mayor and vice-chancellor, to know (as it appeared) whether he might have leave to speak, the bailiffs, and Dr. Marshal, the vice-chancellor, ran hastily unto him, and with their hands stopped his mouth, and said, Mr. Ridley, if you will revoke your erroneous opinions, and recant the same, you shall not only have liberty so to do, but also the benefit of a subject, that is, have your life. Not otherwise? said Dr. Ridley. No quoth Dr. Mar|shal: therefore if you will not do so, then there is no remedy but you must suffer for your deserts. Well, says Dr. Ridley, so long as the breath is in my body▪ I will never deny my Lord Christ, and his known truth: God's will be done in me. And with that he rose up, and said with a loud voice, Well then I commit our cause to Almighty God, who will indifferently judge all.

TO which Mr. Latimer added his old posey, Well, there is nothing hid but it shall be opened: and he said he could answer Smith well enough, if he might be suffered. Incontinently they were com|manded to make themselves ready, which they with all meekness obeyed. Dr. Ridley took his gown and his tippet, and gave it to his brother-in-law Mr. Shipside, who all the time of his imprisonment, al|though he might not be suffered to come to him, lay there at his own charges to provide him neces|saries, which from time to time he sent him by the serjeant that kept him. Some other of his apparel that was little worth he gave away, the others the bailiffs took away.

He gave away divers other small things to gen|tlemen standing by, and divers of them pitifully weeping; to Sir Henry Lea he gave a new gr••at, and to divers of my lord Williams••s gentlemen, some n••pkins, some nutm••gs, and race•• of ginger, his dial, and such other things as he had about him, to every one that stood n••xt to ••im. Some pluck|ed the p••int•• off his hose. Happy was he that might get any r••g of him.

MR. LATIMER gave no••hing but very quietly suffer••d 〈…〉〈…〉 pull off hi•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and hi•• other array, 〈…〉〈…〉 look unto was very 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ and be|ing stripp••d in••o h••s should, he seemed as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a p••rs••n to them that were th••re p••••s••nt, as one could well se••; and whereas in his ••loaths he ap|peared a wi••hered and silly old m••n h•• now stood bol•• upright, as comely a father as one might behold.

THEN Dr. Ridley standing as yet in his truss, said to his brother, It were best for me to go in my truss still. No, says his brother, it will put you to more pain: and the truss will do a poor man good. Whereunto Dr. Ridley said, Be it so in the name of God, and so unlaced himself. Then being in his shirt, he stood upon the aforesaid stone, and held up his hand and said, Oh heavenly Father, I give unto thee most hearty thanks, for that thou hast called me to be a professor of thee, even unto death; I beseech thee, Lord God, have mercy on this realm of England, and deliver the same from all her enemies.

THEN the smith took a chain of iron, and brought the same about both their middles: and as he was knocking in a staple, Dr. Ridley took the chain in his hand and shaked it, for it did gird in his belly; and looking aside to the smith, said, Good fellow, knock it in hard, for the flesh will have its course. Then his brother brought him a bag of gunpowder, and tied it about his neck. Dr. Ridley asked him what it was, his brother said gunpowder. Then, said he, I will take it to be sent of God▪ therefore I will receive it as sent from him. And have you any, said he, for my brother▪ (meaning Mr. Lati|mer.) Yea, sir, that I have, says his brother. Then give it unto him, said he, betime, lest you come too late. So his brother went and carried some gunpowder to Mr. Latimer.

IN the mean time Dr. Ridley spake unto may lord Williams, and said, My lord, I must be a suitor unto your lordship in the behalf of divers poor men, and especially in the cause of my poor sister: I have made a supplication to the queen's majesty in their behalf. I beseech your lordship for Christ's sake, to be a mean to her grace for them. My brother here hath the supplication, and will resort to your lordship to certify you hereof. There is nothing in all the world that troubleth my conscience, (I praise God this only excepted. Whilst I was in the see of London▪ divers poor men took lease•• of me, and agreed with me for the same. Now I hear say the bishop that now occupieth the same ••o••m, will not allow my grants to them made, but contrary to all law and conscience, hath taken from them their livings, and will not suffer them to enjoy the same. I beseech you, my lord, be a means for them: you shall do a good deed, and God will reward you.

THEN they brought a lighted faggot, and laid it at Dr. Ridley's feet. Thereupon Mr. Latimer said, Be of good comfort, Mr. Ridley, and play the man, we shall this day light such a candle by God's grace in England, as I trust shall never be put out. When Dr. Ridley saw the fire flaming up towards him, he cried with a wonderful loud voice, Into thy hands, O lord, I commend my spirit: Lord, receive my spirit; and after repeated this often, Lord, Lord, receive my spirit. Mr. Latimer cried as vehement|ly on the other side, O Father of heaven receive my soul: who received the flame as it were embracing of it. After he had stroked his face with his hands, and as it were bathed them a little in the fire, he soon died, (as it appeareth) with very little or no pain. And thus much concerning this old and faithful servant of God, bishop Latimer, whose laborious travels, fruitful life, and constant death, the whole realm hath cause to give thanks to Al|mighty God.

BUT Dr. Ridley, by the ill-making of the fire, the faggots being green, and built too high about the goss, so that the fire being kept down by the green wood, burned fiercely beneath, which put him to such exquisite pain, that he desired them for God's sake to let the fire come unto him; which his bro|ther-in-law heard, but not well understood, intend|ing to rid him out of his pain, (for which cause he gave attendance) as one in such sorrow, not well ad|vised what he did, heaped faggot upon him, so that he clean covered him, which made the fire more vehement beneath, so that it burned all his nether parts, before it touched the upper, and that made him leap up and down under the faggots, and often desire them to let the fire come to him, saying, I cannot burn. Which indeed plainly appeared: for after his legs were consumed by reason of his strug|gling through the pain, (whereof he had no release, but only the comfort he had from God) he shewed that side towards us clean, shirt and all untouched with flame. Yet in all this torment he forgot not to call upon God still, having in his mouth, Lord have mercy upon me, intermingling his cry, Let the fire come unto me, I cannot burn. In which

pains he laboured till one of the standers by, with his bill, pulled off the faggots above, and where he saw the fire flame up, he wrested himself to that side. And when the fire touched the gunpowder, he was seen to stir no more, but burned on the other side, falling down at Mr. Latimer's feet: which some said, happened by reason that the chain loosed; other said, that he fell over the chain, by reason of 〈…〉〈…〉 of his body, and the weakness of the ne••••ther ••imbs.

SOME said that before he was like to fall from the stake, he desired them to hold him to it with their bills. However, surely it moved hundreds to t••ars, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 beholding the horrible sight. For I think there were none that had not clean banished all humanity and mercy which would not have lamented to behold the fury of the fire so to rage upon their bodies. Signs there were of sorrow on every side. Some took it grievously to see their deaths, whose lives they h••ld full dear. Some pitied their persons, that thought their souls had no need thereof. His brother moved many men, seeing his miserable case, seeing him (I say) compelled to such infelicity, that he thought then to do him best service when he hasten•••• his end. Some cried out of the luck, to see his endeavour, who most dearly loved him, and sough•• his release, turn to his greater vexation, and increase of pain. But whoso considered their pre|ferments in time past, the places of honour that they sometimes occupied in this commonwealth, the fa|vour they were in with their princes, and the opi|nion of learning they had, could not chuse but 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with tears, to see so great dignity, honour, and estimation, so necessary members sometime ac|counted, so many godly virtues, the study of so many years, such excellent learning, to be put into the ••ire, and consumed in one moment. Well, dead they are, and the reward of this world they have al|ready. What reward remaineth for them in hea|ven▪ the day of God's glory, when he cometh with h••s ••••ints, shall shortly declare.

A LETTER Written by Dr. RIDLEY, being his last Farewel, to all his true and faithful Friends in GOD, with a sharp Admonition withal to the Papists.

AT the name of Jesus let every knee bow, both of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth, and let every tongue con|fess that Jesus Christ is the lord, unto the glory of God the Father. Amen.

AS a man intending to take a far journey, and to depart from his familiar friends, commonly and na|turally hath a desire to bid his friends farewel before his departure; so likewise now I, looking daily when I should be called to depart hence from you, (O all you my dearly beloved brethren and sisters in our Saviour Christ that dwell here in this world) having a like mind towards you all, to bid you all, my dear brethren and sisters (I say in Christ) that dwell upon the earth, after such manner as I can, Farewel.

FAREWEL, my dear brother George Shipside, whom I have ever found faithful, trusty, and loving in all states and conditions, and now in the time of my cross over all others to me most friendly and stedfast, and that which pleased me best over all other things, in God's cause ever hearty.

FAREWEL, my dear sister Alice his wife, I am glad to hear of thee, that thou dost take Christ's cross, which is laid now (blessed be God) both on thy back and mine, in good part. Thank thou God that hath given thee a godly and loving husband: see thou honour him and obey him, according to God's law. Honour thy mother in law, his mo|ther, and love all those that pertain unto him, being ready to do them good a•• it shall lie in thy power. As for thy children, I doubt not of thy husband, but that he who hath given him an heart to love and fear God, and in God them that pertain unto him, shall also make him friendly and beneficial un|to thy children, even as if they had been begotten of his own body▪

FAREWEL▪ my dearly beloved brother, John Rid|ley, of the Walt••u••▪ and you my gentl•• and loving sister Elizabeth: who be••••••es the natural 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of amity, your tender love, which you were said ••ver to bear towards me above the rest of your brethren, doth bind me to love. My mind wa•• to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ac|knowledged this your loving affection, and to have acquitted with deeds, and not with words alone. Your daughter Elizabeth I bid 〈◊〉〈◊〉, whom I love for the meek and gentle 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that God 〈◊〉〈◊〉

given her, which is a precious thing in the sight of God.

FAREWEL, my beloved sister dwelling at Un|thank, with all your children, nephews and nieces, since the departure of my brother Hugh, my mind was to have been unto them instead of their father, but the Lord God must and will be their father if they would love and fear him, and live according to his law.

FAREWEL, my well beloved and worshipful cou|sins, Mr. Nicholas Ridley, of Willimountswike, and your wife, and I thank you for all your kind|ness both shewed unto me, and also to all your own kinsfolk and mine. Good cousin, as God hath set you in our stock and kindred (not for any respect of your person, but of his abundant grace and goodness) to be as it were the bell-weather to order and conduct the rest, and hath also endued you with his manifold gifts of grace both heavenly and worldly above others; so I pray you, good cousin, (as my trust and hope is in you) continue and in|crease in the maintenance of the truth, honesty, righteousness, and all true godliness, and to the uttermost of your power to withstand falshood, untruth, unrighteousness, and all ungodliness which is forbidden and condemned by the word and laws of God.

FAREWEL▪ my young cousin, Ralph Whitfield. Oh! your time was very short with me. My mind was to have done you good, and yet you caught in that little time a loss, but I trust it shall be recompensed as it shall please Almighty God.

FAREWEL, all my whole kindred and country|men, farewel in Christ altogether. The Lord, who is the searcher of secrets, knoweth that accord|ing to my heart's desire, my hope was of late that I should have come among you, and to have brought with me abundance of Christ's blessed gospel, according to the duty of that office and ministry, whereunto among you I was chosen, na|med and appointed by the mouth of that late peerless prince, king Edward, and so denounced openly in his court, by his p••••vy council.

I warn you all, my beloved kinsfolk and coun|trymen, that you be not amazed or astonished at the kind of my departure or dissolution; for I assure you I think it the greatest honour that ever I was called to in all my life: and therefore I heartily thank my Lord God for it, that it hath pleased him to call me of his great mercy unto this high honour, to suffer death willingly for his cause and for his sake; unto which honour he hath called the holy prophets, and dearly beloved apostles, and his bles|sed chosen martyrs. For know you that I doubt no more, that the causes for which I am put to death are God's causes, and the causes of the truth, than I doubt that the gospel which John wrote is the gospel of Christ, or that Paul's epistles are the very word of God. And to have a heart willing to abide, and stand in God's cause, and in Christ's quarrel even unto death, I assure thee, (O man) it is an inestimable and an honourable gift of God, given only to the true elect, and dearly beloved children of God and inheritors of the kingdom of heaven. For the holy apostle, and also martyr in Christ's cause, St. Peter, saith, If ye suffer rebuke in the name of Christ, that is, in Christ's cause, and for his truth's sake, then are ye happy and blessed, for the glory of the Spirit of God resteth upon you. If for rebuke's sake suffered in Christ's name, a man is pronounced, by the mouth of that apostle, blessed and happy, how much more happy and blessed is he that hath the grace to suffer death also! Wherefore all you that be my true lovers and friends, rejoice, and rejoice with me again, and render with me hearty thanks to God our heavenly Father, that for his Son's sake my Saviour and Redeemer Christ, he hath vouchsafed to call me, being else without his gracious goodness, in myself but a sinful and vile wretch, to call me, I say, unto this high dignity of his true prophe••s, of his faithful apostles, and of his holy elect and chosen martyrs, that is, to die, and not to spend this temporal li••e in the defence and maintenance of his eternal and everlasting truth.

YOU know that be my countrymen dwelling upon the borders, where (alas) the true man suffereth oftentimes much wrong at the thief's hand, if it chance a man to be slain by a thief (as it often doth

there) which went out with his neighbour to help him to recover his goods again, that the more cruelly he be slain, and the more stedfastly he stuck by his neighbour in the fight against the faith of the thief, the more favour and friendship shall all his posterity have for the slain man's sake, of all them that be true, as long as the memory of this fact, and his posterity doth endure: even so you that be my kinsfolk and countrymen, know ye (howsoever the blind, ignorant, wicked world hereafter shall rail upon my death, which thing they cannot do worse than their fathers did, of the death of Christ our Saviour, of his holy prophets, apostles, and martyrs:) know ye, I say, that both before God, and all them that be godly, and that truly know and follow the laws of God, ye have, and shall have by God's grace, ever cause to rejoice, and to thank God highly, and to think good of it, and in God rejoice with me your flesh and blood, whom God of his goodness hath vouchsafed to associate unto the blessed company of his holy mar|tyrs in heaven: and I doubt not in the infinite good|ness of my Lord God, nor in the faithful fellowship of his elect and chosen people, but at both their hand in my cause, ye shall rather find the more ••avour and grace: for the Lord saith, that he will be both to them and their's that love him, the more loving again in a thousand generations: the Lord is so full of mercy to them, I say, and their's who do love him indeed. And Christ saith again, that no man can shew more love than to give his life for his friend.

NOW also know ye, all my true lovers in God, my kinsfolk and countrymen, that the cause for which I am put to death, is even after the same sort and condition, but touching more near God's cause, and more weighty matters, but in the gene|ral kind all one: for both is God's cause, both is in the maintenance of right, and both for the com|mon-wealth, and both for the weal also of the christian brother, although yet there is in these two no small difference, both concerning the enemies, the goods stolen, and the manner of the fight. For know ye all, that like as there when the poor man is robbed by the thief of his goods truly gotten (whereupon he and his houshould should live) he is greatly wronged, and the thief in stealing and rob|bing with violence the poor man's goods, doth offend God, doth transgress his law, and is inju|rious both to the poor m••n, and to the common-wealth; so I say, know ye that even here in the cause of my death, it is with the church of England I mean the congregation of the true chosen children of God in this realm of England, which I acknowledge not only to be my neighbours, but rather the congregation of my spiritual brethren and sisters in Christ, yea, members of one body, wherein by God's grace I am and have been grafted in Christ. This church of England hath of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, of the infinite goodness and abundant grace of Al|mighty God, great substance, great riches of hea|venly treasure, great plenty of God's true sin••ere word, the true and wholesome administration of Christ's holy sacraments, the whole profession of Christ's religion truly and plainly set forth in bap|tism, the plain declaration and understanding of the same, taught in the holy catechism, to have been learned of all true christians.

THE church had also a true and sincere form and manner of the Lord's supper, wherein according to Jesus Christ's own ordinance and holy institution▪ Christ's commandments were executed and done. For upon the bread and wine set upon the Lord's table, thanks were given, the commemoration of the Lord's death was had; the bread, in the re|membrance of Christ's body torn upon the cross▪ was broken, and the cup in the remembrance of Christ's blood shed▪ was distributed▪ and both com|municated unto all that were present and would receive them, and also they were exhorted of the minister so to do.

ALL was done openly in the vulgar tongue, so that every thing might be must early heard, and plainly understood by all the people, to God's high glory, and the edification of the whole church. This church had of late the whole divine services, all common and public prayers ordained to be said and heard in the common congregation, not only framed and fashioned to the true vein of holy scrip|ture, but also set forth according to the command|ment of the Lord, and St. Paul's doctrine, for the people's edification, in their vulgar tongue.

IT had also holy and wholesome homil••••s in commendation of the p••incipal virtues, which are

commended in scripture; and likewise other homi|lies against the most pernicious and capital vices that used (alas) to reign in this realm of England. This church had in matters of controversy, articles so penned and framed after the holy scriptures, and grounded upon the true understanding of God's word, that in short time if they had been universally received, they should have been able to have set in Christ's true religion, and to have expelled ma|ny false errors and heresies, wherewith this church, alas, was almost overgone.

BUT alas, of late into this spiritual possession of the heavenly treasure of these godly riches, are en|••ered in thieves, that have robbed and spoiled all this treasure away. I may well complain of these things, and cry out upon them with the prophet, saying, "O Lord God, the Gentiles, heathen na|tions, are come into thy heritage: they have defiled thy holy temple, and made Jerusalem an heap of stones, that is, they have broken and beaten down to the ground thy holy city." This heathenish generation, these thieves of Samaria, these Sabaei and Chaldaei, these robbers have rushed out of their dens, and have robbed the church of England of all the afore|soid holy treasure of God; they have carried it away and overthrown it, and instead of God's holy word, the true and right administration of Christ's holy sacraments, as of baptism and others, they mixt their ministry with man's foolish fancies, and many wicked and ungodly traditions.

INSTEAD of the Lord's holy table, they give the people with much solemn disguising a thing which they call their mass, but in deed and in truth, it is a very masking and mockery of the true supper of the Lord; or rather I may call it a crafty juggling, whereby these false t••i••ves and jugglers have be|wi••ched the mi••ds of the simple people, that they have brought th••m from the true worship of God unto pernicious idolatry, and make them to believe that to b•• Christ our Lord and Saviour, which indeed 〈…〉〈…〉 man, nor hath any life in it••elf but 〈…〉〈…〉 the creature ••f bread and wine, 〈…〉〈…〉 of the Lord's 〈◊〉〈◊〉 is the sa••rament of Chri••t 〈…〉〈…〉 and for this 〈…〉〈…〉 them in hi•• table, to represent unto us his blessed body torn upon the cross for us, and his blood there shed, it pleased him to call them his body and blood: which understanding Christ declareth to be his true meaning, when he saith, Do this in remembrance of me. And again, St. Paul likewise doth set out the same more plainly, speaking of the same sacra|ment, after the words of consecration, saying, As often as ye shall eat of this bread and drink of this cup, ye shall set forth the Lord's death until his coming again. And here again these thieves have also robbed the people of the Lord's cup, contrary to the plain words of Christ written in his gospel.

NOW for the common public prayers which were in the vulgar tongue, these thieves have brought in again a strange tongue, whereof the people un|derstand not one word. Wherein what do they else, but rob the people of their divine service, wherein they ought to pray together with the mini|ster? And to pray in a strange tongue, what is it but (as St. Paul calleth it) barbarousness, childish|ness, unprofitable folly, yea, and plain madness.

FOR the godly articles of unity in religion, and for the wholesome homilies, what do these thieves place in the stead of them, but the pope's laws and decrees, lying legends, feigned fables, and miracles to delude and abuse the simplicity of the rude people? Thus this robbery and theft is not only committed, nay, sacrilege, and wicked spoil of heavenly things, but also in the stead of the same is brought in and placed the abominable desolation of the tyrant An|tiochus, of proud Sen••cherib, of the shameless faced king, and of the Babylonian beast. Unto this robbery, this theft and sacrilege, for that I can|not consent, nor (God willing) ever shall so long as the breath is in my body, because it is blasphemy against God, high treason against Christ our hea|venly King, Lord, Master, and our only Saviour and Redeemer, it is plainly contrary to God's word, and to Christ's gospel; it is the subversion of all true godliness, and against the salvation of mine own soul, and of all my brethren and sisters, whom Christ my Saviour hath so dearly bought, with no l••ss price than with the effusion and shedding forth of his most precious blood. Therefore all you my true lovers in God, kinsfolk and country|men, for this cause, I say, know ye that I am put

to death, which by God's grace I shall willingly take, with hearty thanks to God therefore, in cer|tain hope without any doubting, to receive at God's hand again, of his mercy and grace, everlasting life.

ALTHOUGH the cause of the true man slain of the thief, helping his neighbour to recover his goods again, and the cause for which I am put to death, in a generality is both one (as I said before); yet know ye that there is no small difference. These thieves against whom I do stand, are much worse than the robbers and thieves of the borders. The goods which they steal are much more precious, and their kinds of fight are far different. These thieves are worse (I say) for they are cruel, more wicked, more false, more deceitful, and crafty: for those will but kill the body, but these will kill both body and soul. Those, for the general theft and robbery, be called, and are indeed, thieves and robbers; but these for their spiritual kind of robbery, are called Sacralegi, as you would say, Church-robbers. They are more wicked: for those go about to spoil men of worldly things, worldly riches, gold and silver, and worldly sub|stance; these go about in the ways of the devil their spiritual father, to steal from the universal church, and particularly from every man, all hea|venly treasure, true faith, true charity, and hope of salvation in the blood of our Saviour Jesus Christ, yea, to spoil us of our Saviour Jesus Christ, of his gospel, of his heavenly Spirit, and of the heavenly heritage of the kingdom of heaven, so dearly purchased unto us, with the death of our Master and Saviour Christ. These are the goods and godly substance whereupon the christian before God must live, and without which he cannot live: these goods, I say, these thieves, these church robbers go about to spoil us of. Which goods, as to the man of God, they excel and surpass all worldly treasure; so to withstand, even unto death, such thieves as go about to spoil both us and the whole church of such goods, is most high and honourable service done to God.

THESE church-robbers be also much more false, crafty, and dec••itful, than the thieves upon the borders; for th••se have not the craft so to com|mend their theft, that they dare avouch i••, and therefore as acknowledging themselves to be evil, they steal commonly in the night, they dare not app••ar in judgments and sessions, where justice is executed, and when they are taken and brought thither, they never hang any man, but they be oftentimes hanged for their faults. But these church-robbers can so cloak and colour their spiri|tual robbery, that they can make people to believe falshood to be truth, and truth falshood; good to be evil, and evil good; light to be darkness, and darkness light; superstition to be true religion, and idolatry to be the true worship of God, and that which is in substance the creature of bread and wine, to be no other substance, but only the sub|stance of Christ the living Lord, both God and man. And with this their falshood and craft, they can so juggle and bewitch the understanding of the simple, that they dare avouch it openly in court and in town, and fear neither hanging nor heading, as the poor thieves of the borders do; but stout and strong like Nembroth, dare condemn to be burned in flaming fire, quick and alive, whosoever will go about to bewray their falshood.

THE kind of fight against these church-robbers is also of another sort and kind▪ than that which is against the thieves of the borders. For there the true men go forth against them with spear and lance, with bow and bill, and all such kind of bodily weapons as the true men have: but here as the enemies be of another nature, so the watchmen of Christ's flock, the warriors that fight in the Lord's war, must be armed, and fight with ano|ther kind of weapons and armour. For here the enemies of God, the soldiers of Antichrist, although the battle is set forth against the church by mortal men, being flesh and blood, and nevertheless mem|bers of their father the devil, yet for that their grand master is the power of darkness, their mem|bers are spi••itual wickedness, wicked spirits, spirits of errors, of heresies, of all deceit and ungodliness, spirits of idolatry, superstiti••n and hypocrisy, which are called by St. Paul, principalities and powers, lords of the world, rulers of the darkness of this world, and spiritual sub••••eti••s concerning heavenly things; therefore one weapons mu•••• be ••it and meet to fight against such▪ not 〈…〉〈…〉 bodily weapons, as spear and l••nce, but spiritual and heavenly▪ we must ••ight against such with the

armour of God, not intending to kill their bodies, but their errors, their false craft and heresies, their idolatry, superstition, and hypocrisy, and to save (as much as lieth in us) both their bodies and their souls.

AND therefore, as St. Paul teacheth us, "We fight not against flesh and blood," that is, we fight not with bodily weapons to kill the man, but with the weapons of God to put to flight his wicked errors and vice, and to save both body and soul. Our weapons therefore are faith, hope, charity, righteousness, truth, patience, prayer unto God, and our sword wherewith we smite our enemies, beat and batter and bear down all falshood, is the Word of God. With these weapons, under the banner of the cross of Christ, we do fight, ever having our eye upon our grand master and captain, Christ; and then we reckon ourselves to triumph and to win the crown of everlasting b••iss, when in|during in this battle without any shrinking or yielding to the enemies, after the example of our grand captain Christ, our master, after the example of his holy prophets, apostles, and mar|tyrs, when (I say) we are slain in our mortal bodies by our enemies, and are most cruelly and without all mercy murdered down like a flock of sheep. And the more cruel, the more painful, the more vile and spiteful the kind of death is where|unto we be put, the more glorious in God, the more blessed and happy we reckon (without all doubts) our martyrdom to be.

AND thus much, dear lovers and friends in God, my countrymen and kinsfolk, I have spoke for your comfort, lest at my death ye might be abashed, or think any evil: whereas ye have rather cause to re|joice (if ye love me indeed) that it hath pleased God to call me to a greater honour and dignity, than ever I did enjoy before, either in Rochester, or in the see of London, or ever should have had in me see of Durham, whereunto I was la••t of all elected and named: yea, I count it grea••er honour before God indeed to die in his cause (whereof I nothing d••ub••) than is any earthly or temporal promotion or honour that can be gi••en to a man in this world. And who is he that knoweth the cause to be God's, to be Christ's quarrel, and of his gospel, to be the common w••••l of all the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and chosen children of God, of all the inheritors of the kingdom of hea|ven; who is he (I say) that knoweth this assuredly by God's word, and the testimony of his own con|science (as I through the infinite goodness of God, not of myself, but by his grace acknowledge myself to do): who is he, I say, that knoweth this and both loveth and feareth God in deed and in truth▪ loveth and believeth his master Christ, and his blessed gos|pel; loveth ••is brotherhood, the chosen children of God, and also lusteth and longeth for everlasting life: who is he, I say again, that would not or can|not find in his heart in this cause to be content to die? The Lord forbid that any such should be that should forsake this grace of God. I trust in my Lord God, the God of mercies, and Father of all comfort through Jesus Christ our Lord, that he which hath put this mind, will, and affection by his Holy Spirit in my heart, to stand against the face of the enemy in his cause, and to chuse rather the loss of all my worldly substance, yea, and of my life too, than to deny his known truth: that he will comfort me, aid me, and strengthen me evermore even unto the end, and to the yielding up of my spirit and soul into his holy hands, where|of I most heartily beseech his most holy sacred Ma|jesty of his infinite goodness and mercy, through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.

NOW that I have taken leave of my countrymen and kinsfolk, and the Lord doth lend me life, and giveth me leisure, I will bid my other good friends in God of other places also, farewel. And whom first or before other, than the University of Cam|bridge, where I have dwelt longer, found more faithful and hearty friends, received more benefits (the benefits of my natural parents only excepted) than ever I did even in mine own country where|in I was born.

FAREWEL therefore (Cambridge) my loving mother and tender nurse. If I should not acknow|ledge thy manifold benefits, yea, if I should not for thy benefits at least love thee again, truly I were to be accounted too ungrateful and unkind▪— What benefits hadst thou ever, that thou usedst to give and bestow upon thy best beloved children, that thou thoughtest too good for me? Thou didst bestow on me all thy school degrees, the common offices, the chaplainship of the university, the offi|ces,

the chaplainship of the university, the office of the proctorship, and of a common reader; and of thy private advantages and emoluments in col|leges, what was it that thou madest me not partner of? First to be scholar, then to be a fellow, and after my departure from thee, thou calledst me a|gain to a mastership of a right worshipful college. I thank thee, my loving mother, for all this thy kindness, and I pray God that his laws, and the sincere gospel of Christ may ever be truly taught and faithfully learned in thee.

FAREWEL, Pembroke Hall, of late mine own college, and my charge: what case thou art in now God knoweth, I know not well. Thou wast ever named since I knew thee, which is not thirty years ago, to be studious, well learned, and a great promoter of Christ's gospel, and of God's true word; so I found thee, and, blessed be God, so I left thee in|deed. Woe is me for thee mine own dear college, if ever thou suffer thyself by any means to be brought from that trade. In thy orchard (the walls, buts, and trees, if they could speak, would bear me witness) I learned without book almost all St. Paul's epistles, yea, and I think all the canonical epistles, save only the Apocalypse. Of which study, although in time a great part did depart from me, yet the sweet smell thereof I trust I shall carry with me into heaven: for the profit thereof I think I have felt in all my life-time ever after, and I think of late (whether they abide now or no, I cannot tell) there were others that did the like. The lord grant this zeal and love toward that part of God's word, which is a key and true commentary to all the holy scripture, may ever abide in that college so long as the world shall endure.

FROM Cambridge I was called into Kent by the archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer, that most reverend father, and of him preferred to be vicar of Herne, in East Kent. Wherefore, fare|wel, Herne thou worshipful and wealthy parish, the first cure whereunto I was called to preach God's word. Thou hast heard of my mouth oftentimes the word of God preached, not after the popish trade, but after Christ's Gospel: O that the fruit had answered to the seed. And yet I must ac|knowledge me to be thy debtor for the doctrine of the Lord's supper, which at that time I acknowledge God had not revealed unto me: but I bless God, in all that godly virtue and zeal of God's word, which the Lord by preaching of his word did kindle mani|festly both in the heart and in the life and works of that godly woman there, lady Phines; the Lord grant that his word took like effect there 〈…〉〈…〉 others.

FAREWEL, thou cathedral church of Canterbury, the metropoli•• see, whereof I once was a member. To speak things pleasant unto thee I dare not for danger of conscience, and displeasure of my Lord God, and to say what lieth in my heart were now too much, and I fear were able to do thee now but little good. Nevertheless, for the friendship I have found in some there, and for charity sake, I wish thee to be washed clean of all worldliness and ungodliness, that thou mayest be found of God af|ter thy name Christ's-church, in deed and in truth.

FAREWEL, Rochester, sometime my cathedral see, in whom (to say the truth) I did find much gentleness and obedience; and I trust thou wilt not say the contrary, but I did use it to God's glory, and unto thine own profit in God. O that thou hadst and mightest have continued and gone forward in the trade of God's law wherein I did leave thee; then thy charge and burden should not have been so terrible and dangerous, as I suppose verily it is like to be (alas) in the latter day.

TO Westminster other advertisement in God I have not now to say, than I have said before to the cathedral church of Canterbury, and so God give thee of his grace, that thou mayest learn in deed and in truth to please him after his own laws: and thus fare you well.

O London, London, to whom now may I speak in thee, or whom shall I bid farewel? Shall I speak to the prebendaries of St. Paul's? Alas, all that loved God's word, and were the true setters-forth thereof, are now (as I hear say) some burnt and slain, some exiled and banished, and some con|fined in hard prison, and appointed to be put to the most cruel death for Christ's gospel sake. As for the rest of them, I know they could never brook me well, nor could I ever delight in them.

SHALL I speak to the see thereof, wherein of late I was placed almost, and not fully the space of three years? But what may I say to it, being (as I hear say I am) deposed and expulsed by judgment as an unjust usurper of that room. O judgment, judge|ment. Can this be just judgment to condemn the chief minister of God's word, the pastor and bishop of the diocese, and never bring him into judgment that he might have heard what crimes were laid to his charge, nor even suffer him to have any place or time to answer for himself? Thinkest thou hereafter, when true justice shall have place, this judgment can ever be allowed either of God or man? Well, as for the cause or whole matter of my deposition, and the spoil of my goods which thou possessest yet, I refer it unto God who is a just judge; and I beseech God, if it be his pleasure, that that which is but my personal wrong, be not laid to thy charge in the latter day, this only I can pray for.

O thou now wicked and bloody see, why dost thou set up again many altars of idolatry, which by the word of God were justly taken away? Why dost thou daily delude thy people, masking in thy masses instead of the Lord's supper, which ought to be common as well (saith Chrysostom, yea, the Lord himself) to the people as to the priest? How dar|est thou deny to the people of Christ, contrary to his express commandment in the gospel, his holy cup? Why babblest thou to the people the Common-prayer in a strange tongue, wherein St. Paul com|mandeth in the Lord's name, that no man should speak before the congregation, except it should be presently declared in their common tongue, that all might be edified? Nay, hearken, thou whorish bawd of Babylon, thou wicked limb of Antichrist, thou bloody wolf, why slayest thou down, and makest ••avoc of the prophets of God? Why murderest thou so cruelly Christ's poor silly sheep, which will not hear thy voice, because thou art a stranger, and will follow no other but their own pastor Christ's voice? Thinkest thou to escape, or that the Lord will not require their blood at thy hands? Thy God, which is the work of thy hands, and whom thou sayest thou hast power to make, that thy deaf and dumb god, I say, will not indeed, nor can, (al|though thou art not ashamed to call him thy Maker) make thee to escape the revenging hand of the high and Almighty God. But be thou assured, that the living Lord our Saviour and Redeemer, who sitteth on the right hand of the Father in glory, he seeth all thy wicked ways and cruelty done to his dear memb•••• and he will not forget his holy ones, and his ha••••s, O thou whorish drab, shalt thou never escape. Instead of my farewel to thee, now I say, Fi•• upon thee, fie upon thee, filthy drab, and all thy false prophets.

YET, O London, I may not leave thee thus. Al|though thy episcopal see, now being joined in league with the seat of Satan, thus hath now both handled me and the saints of God, yet I do not doubt, but in that great city there be many private mourners, who do daily mourn for that mischief, who never did nor shall consent to that wickedness, but do de|test and abhor it as the ways of Satan. But these privy mourners here I will pass by, and bid them farewel with their fellows hereafter, when place and occasion shall more conveniently require. Among the worshipful of the city, and especially which were in office of mayoralty, yea, and in other cities also (whom now to name is not necessary) in the time of my ministry, which was from the latter part of sir Rowland's Hills' year, unto sir George Barnes's year, and a great part thereof, I do acknowledge that I found no small humanity and gentleness as I thought: but to say the truth, that I do esteem above all other for true christian kindness, which is shewed in God's cause, and done for his sake.— Wherefore, O Dobs, Dobs, alderman and knight, thou in thy year didst win my heart for evermore, for that honourable act, that most blessed work of God, of the erection and setting up of Christ's holy hospitals, and truly religious houses, which by thee and through thee were begun. For thou, like a man of God, when the matter was moved for the relief of Christ's poor silly members to be holpen from extreme misery, hunger, and famine, thy heart, I say, was moved with pity, and as Christ's high honourable officer in that cause, yea, and not only in thine own pe••son thou didst set forth Christ's cause, but to further the matter, thou broughtest me into the council chamber of the city before the aldermen alone, whom thou hadst assembled there together to hear me speak what I could say, as an advocate by ••ffice and duty, in the poor men's cause. The Lord wrought with thee, and gave thee the

consent of thy brethren: whereby the matter was brought to the common-council, and so to the whole body of the city; by whom, with an uniform con|sent, it was committed to be drawn, ordered, and devised by a certain number of the most witty citi|zens and politic, endued also with godliness, and with ready hearts to set forward such a noble act, as could be chose in all the whole city; and like true and faithful ministers, both to their city, and their master Christ, so ordered, devised, and brought forth the matter, that thousands of poor silly mem|bers of Christ, which else for extreme hunger and misery should have famished and perished, shall be relieved, holpen, and brought up, and shall have cause to bless the aldermen of that time, the com|mon council, and the whole body of the city, but especially thee, O Dobs, and those chosen men, by whom this honourable work of God was begun and wrought, and that so long throughout all ages, as that godly work shall endure: which I pray Almighty God may be ever unto the world's end. Amen.

AND thou, O sir George Barnes, the truth is to be confessed to God's glory, and to the good exam|ple of others, thou wast in thy year not only a fur|therer and continuer of that which before thee by thy predecessor was well begun, but also didst la|bour so to have perfected the work, that it should have been an absolute thing, and perfect spectacle of true charity and g••d••iness unto all Christendom. Thine endeavour was to set up an house of occupa|ti••ns, both that all kind of poverty, being able to 〈◊〉〈◊〉, sh••uld not have lacked, whereupon profitably they might have been occupied to their own relief, and to the profit and commodity of the common|wealth of the city, and also to have retired thither the poor babes brought up in the hospitals, when they had come to a certain age and strength, and also those which in the hospitals aforesaid had been cured of their diseases. And to have brought this to pass, thou didst obtain, not without great dili|gence and labour, both of thee and thy brethren, and of that godly king Edward, that christian and peerless prince's hand, his princely pal••c•• of Bride|well, and what other things to the performance of the same, and under what condition it is not un|known. That this thine endeavour had not like success, the fault is not in thee, but in the condi|tion and state of the time, which the Lord of his infinite mercy vouchsafe to amend when it shall be his gracious will and pleasure.

FAREWEL now all you citizens that be of God, of what state and condition soever you be. Undoubt|edly in London you have heard God's word truly preached. My heart's desire and daily prayer shall be for you, as for whom, for my time, I know to my Lord God I am accountable, that you never swerve, neither for loss of life, nor worldly goods, from God's holy word, and yield unto Antichrist: whereupon must needs follow the extreme displea|sure of God, and the loss both of your bodies and souls, into perpetual damnation evermore.

NOW that I have gone through the places where I have dwelt any space in the time of my pilgrimage here upon earth, remembering that for the space of king Edward's reign, which was the time of mine office in the sees of London and Rochester, I was a member of the higher house of parliament; there|fore seeing my God hath given me leisure, and the remembrance thereof, I will bid the lords of tempo|rality farewel. They shall have no just cause, by God's grace, to take in ill part what I intend to say. As for the spiritual prelacy that now is, I have nothing to say them, except I should repeat again a great part of what I have said before now already to the see of London. To you therefore, my lords of the temporality, will I speak, and this would I have you first to understand, that when I wrote this, I looked daily when I should be called to the change of this life, and thought this my writing should not come to your knowledge before the time of the dissolution of my body and soul should be expired; and therefore know ye, that I had before mine eyes only the fear of God, and christian charity towards you, which moveth me to write; for of you here|after I look not in this world, either for pleasure or displeasure. If my talk shall do you ever so much displeasure or profit, you cannot promote me, nor if I displease you, can you hurt me or harm me, for I shall be out of your reach. Now therefore, if you fear God, and can be content to hear the talk of him that seeketh nothing at your hands, but to serve God, and to do you good, hearken to what I say.

I say unto you as St. Paul saith to the Galatians, I wonder what hath bewitched you, that you so sud|denly are fallen from Christ to Antichrist, from Christ's gospel to man's traditions, from the Lord that bought you, unto the bishop of Rome. I warn you of your peril; be not deceived, except you will be found willing consenters to your own death. For if you think thus, We are laymen, this is a matter of religion, we follow as we are taught and lead; if our teachers and governors teach us and lead us amiss, the fault is in them, they shall bear the blame. My lords, this is true, (I grant you) that both the false teachers and corrupt go|vernor shall be punished for the death of their sub|ject, whom they have falsely taught, and corruptly led, yea, and his blood shall be required at their hands. But nevertheless shall the subject die the death himself also; that is, he shall also be damned for his own sin; for if the blind lead the blind, Christ saith, not the leader only, but he saith, both shall fall into the ditch. Shall the synagogue and senate of the Jews (think you) which forsook Christ, and consented to his death, therefore be excused, because Annas and Caiaphas, with the scribes and pharisees▪ and their clergy, did teach them amiss? Yea, and also Pilate the governor, and emperor's lieutenant, by his tyranny, did without cause put him to death. Forsooth no, my lords, no. For notwithstanding that corrupt doctrine, or Pilate's washing of his hands, neither shall excuse that syna|gogue, or Pilate; but at the Lord's hand, for the effusion of innocent blood, all shall drink of the deadly cup. You are witty, and understand what I mean, therefore I will pass over this, and return to tell you how you are fallen from Christ to his ad|versary the bishop of Rome.

AND lest, my lords, you may peradventure think, thus barely to the bishop of Rome Christ's adver|sary, or (to speak in plain terms) to call him Anti|christ that it is done in mine anguish, and that I but rage, and as a desperate man do not care what I say, or upon whom I rail; therefore that your lordships may perceive my mind, and thereby un|derstand that I speak the words of truth and sobrie|ty. (as St. Paul said unto Festus) be it known unto your lordships, (the living Lord beareth me wit|ness, before whom I speak) I do think many a good holy man, many martyrs and saints of God have sat and taught in that place Christ's gospel truly, which therefore justly may be called Apostolici, that is, true disciples of the apostles, and also that church and congregation of christians to be a right apostolic church: yea, and that certain hundred years after the same was first erected and built upon Christ, by the true apostolical doctrine taught by the mouths of the apostles themselves. If you will know how long that was, and how many hundred years, to be curious in pointing the precise number of the years, I will not be too bold, but thus I say, So long and so many hundred years as that see did truly preach and teach that religion, exercised that power, and or|dered every thing by those laws and rules which that see received of the apostles, and (as Tertullian saith) the apostles of Christ, and Christ of God: so long, I say, that see might well have been called Peter and Paul's chair, and the bishop thereof Apostolicus, or true disciple and successor of the a|postles, and a minister of Christ.

BUT since the time that that see hath degenera|ted from the trade of truth and true religion, which it received of the apostles at the beginning, and hath preached another gospel, hath set up another re|ligion, hath exercised another power, and hath taken upon it to order and rule the church of Christ by other strange laws, canons, and rules, than ever it received of the apostles of Christ, which things it doth at this day, and hath conti|nued so doing, (alas) too long a time, I say, that that state and condition of that see hath thus been changed, in truth it ought of duty and of right to have the names changed both of the see and of the sitter therein. For understand, my lords, it was neither for the privilege of the place or person thereof, that that see and bishops thereof were called aposto|lic; but for the true trade of Christ's religion, which was taught and maintained in that see at first, and of those godly men. And therefore as truly and justly as that see then, for that true trade of religion, and consanguinity of doctrine with the religion and doctrine of Christ's apostles, was called apostolic; so as truly and as justly for the contrariety of religi|on, and diversity of doctrine from Christ and his apostles, that see and bishop thereof, at 〈◊〉〈◊〉 day both ought to be called, and are indeed antichristian.

THE see is the see of Satan, and the bishop the same, that maintaineth the abominations thereof, is Antichrist himself indeed. And for the same causes this see at this day is the same which St. John calleth in his Revelation Babylon, or the whore of Babylon, and the spiritual Sodom and Egypt, the mother of fornication and of the abo|minations upon the earth. And with this whore do spiritually meddle, and lie with her, and com|mit most stinking and abominable adultery before God, all those kings and princes, and all nations of the earth which do consent to her abominations, and use or practise the same; that is (of the innu|merable multitude of them to rehearse some for example's sake) her dispensations▪ her pardons and pilgrimages, her invocation of saints, her worship|ping of images, her false counterfeit religion in her monkery and f••iarage, and her traditions, whereby God's laws are defiled; as her massing and false ministering of God's word and the sacraments of Christ, clean contrary to Christ's word and the apostle's doctrine, whereof in particular I have touched something before in my talk had with the see of London, and in other treatises more at large; wherein (if it please God to bring the same to light) it shall appear, I trust by God's grace, plainly to the man of God, and to him whose rule in judgment of religion is God's word, that that religion, that rule and order, that doctrine and faith which this whore of Babylon, and the beast where|upon she doth sit, maintaineth at this day with all violence of fire and sword, with spoil and banish|ment (according to Daniel's prophecy), and finally with all falshood, deceit, hypocrisy, and all kind of ungodliness, are as clean contrary to God's word, as darkness is unto light, or light unto darkness, white to black, or black to white, or as Belial to Christ, or Christ to Antichrist himself.

I know, my lords, and foresaw when I wrote this, that so many of you as should see this my writing, not being before endued with the Spirit of grace and the light of God's word, so many (I say) would at these my words lord-like stamp and spurn, and spit thereat. But sober yourselves with patience, and be still, and know ye, that in my writing of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, my mind was none other, but in God (as the living God doth bear me witness) both to do you profit a••d pleasure. And otherwise, as for your displeasure, by that time this shall come to your knowledge, I trust by God's grace to be in the hands and protection of the Almighty, my hea|venly Father and the living Lord, which is (as St. John saith) the greatest of all, and then I shall not need, I suppose, to fear what any lord, no nor what any king or prince can do unto me.

MY lords, if in time past you have been content|ed to hear me sometimes in matters of religion be|fore the prince in the pulpit, and in the parliament-house, and have not seemed to have despised what I have said (when as else if you had perceived just occasion, you might then have suspected me in my talk, though it had been reasonable, either desire of worldly gain, or fear of displeasure) how then have your lordships more cause to hearken to my word, and to hear me patiently, seeing now you cannot justly think of me being in this case appointed to di••, and looking daily when I shall be called to come before the eternal judge, otherwise but that I only study to serve my Lord God, and to say that thing which I am persuaded assuredly by God's word shall and doth please him, and profit all them to whom God shall give grace to hear and believe what I do say? And I do say even what I have said heretofore both of the see of Rome and of the bishop thereof, I mean after this their present state at this day, wherein if ye will not believe the ministers of God, and true preachers of his word, verily I denounce unto you in the word of the Lord, except you do repent be••ime, it shall turn to your confusion, and to your smart on the bitter day. Forget not what I say, my lord's, for God's sake forget not, but remember it upon your bed. For I tell you mo••eover, as I know I must be ac|countable for this my talk, and of my speaking thus, to the eternal judge (who will judge nothing amiss), so shall you be a••countable of your duty in hearing, and you shall be charged, if you will not hearken to God's word, for not obeying the truth. Alas, my lords, how chanceth this, that this, that this matter is now anew again to be persuaded unto you? Who would have thought of late, but your lordships had been persuaded indeed sufficiently, or that you could ever have agreed so uniformly with one consent to the abolishment of the usurpa|tion of the bishop of Rome? If that master were then but a matter of policy wherein the prince must

be obeyed; how is it now made a matter wherein (as your clergy saith now, and so saith the pope's law indeed) standeth the unity of the catholic church, and a matter of necessity of our salvation? Hath the time, being so short since the death of the two last kings, Henry the eighth, and Edward his son, altered th•• nature of the matter? If it has not, but was of the same nature and danger before God then as it is now, and be now (as it is said by the pope's laws, and instructions set forth in English to the curates of the diocese of York) indeed a matter of necessity to salvation: how then chanced it that you were all (O my lords) so light, and so little passed upon the catholic faith, and the unity thereof, without which no man can be saved, as for your princes' pleasure, who were but mortal men, to forsake the unity of your catholic faith, that is, to forsake Christ and his gospel? And further|more, if it were both then, and now is so necessary to salvation, how chanced it also that ye, all the whole body of the parliament agreeing with you, did not only abolish and expel the bishop of Rome, but also abjure him in your own persons, and did decree in your acts great oaths to be taken both of the spirituality and temporality, whosoever should enter into any weighty and chargeable office in the common wealth? But on the other side, if the law and decree which maketh the supremacy of the see and bishop of Rome over the universal church of Christ, to be a thing of necessity required unto sal|vation by an Antichristian law (as it is indeed) and such instructions as are given to the diocese of York, be indeed a setting forth of the power of the beast of Babylon, by the craft and falshood of his false prophets (as of truth compared to God's word, and truly judged by the same, it shall plainly appear that they be) then my lords never think other, but the day shall come when you shall be charged with this your undoing of that, that once you had well done, and with this your perjury and breach of your oath, which oath was done in judgment, justice, and truth, according to God's law. The whore of Babylon may well for a time dally with you, and make you so drunken with the wine of her filthy stews and whoredom (as with her dispensations and promises of pardon for punishment and crime) that for drunkenness and blindness ye may think your|selves safe. But be you assured, when the living Lord shall try the matter by the fire and judge it according to his word, when all her abominations shall appear what they be, then you, my lords, repent if you will be happy, and love your own soul's health; repent, I say, or else without all doubt you shall never escape the hands of the living Lord, for the guilt of your perjury, and breach of your oath. As you have banquetted and lain by the whore in the fornication of her whorish dispen|sations, pardons, idolatry, and such like abomina|tions; so shall you drink with her (except ye repent betime) of the cup of the Lord's indignation and everlasting wrath, which is prepared for the beast, his false prophets, and all their partakers. For he that is partner with them in their whoredom and abominations, must also be partner with them in their plagues, and in the latter day shall be thrown with them into the lake burning with brimstone and un|quenchable fire. Thus fare you well, my lords all. I pray God give you understanding of his blessed will and pleasure, and make you to believe and embrace the truth. Amen.

NICHOLAS RIDLEY.

Another Farewel to the Prisoners in the Cause of Christ's Gospel, and to all them who for the same Cause are banished from their own Country, chusing rather to leave all worldly Goods than their Master Christ.

FAREWEL, my dearly beloved brethren in Christ, both you my fellow-prisoners, and you also that be exiled and banished out of your countries, because you will rather forsake all world|ly advantages, than the gospel of Christ.

FAREWEL all you together in Christ; farewel and be merry, for you know that the trial of your faith bringeth forth patience, and patience shall make us perfect, whole, and sound on every side, and such, after trial (ye know) shall receive the crown of life, according to the promise of the Lord made to his dearly beloved; let us therefore be patient unto the coming of the Lord. As the husbandman a|bideth patiently the former and latter rain for the increase of his crop, so let us be patient, and pluck up our hearts, for the coming of the Lord approach|eth apace. Let us my dear brethren, take example

of patience in tribulation of the prophets, who like|wise spake God's word truly in his name. Let Job be to us an example of patience and the end which the Lord suffered, which is full of mercy and pi|ty. We know, my brethren, by God's word, that our faith is much more precious than any corruptible gold, and yet that is tried by the fire: even so our faith is therefore tried likewise in tribulations, that it may be found, when the Lord shall appear, ••••u••lable, glo|rious, and honourable. For if we for Christ's cause do suffer, that is grateful before God; for thereunto are we called, that is our state and voca|tion, wherewith let us be content. Christ, we know, suffered for us afflictions, leaving us an example that we should follow his footsteps, for he committed no sin, nor was there any guile found in his mouth: when he was railed upon, and all to be reviled, he railed not again: when he was evil intreated, he did not threaten, but committed the punishment thereof to him that judgeth aright.

LET us ever have in fresh remembrance those wonderful comfortable sentences spoken by the mouth of our Saviour Christ; Blessed are they which suffer persecution for righteousness' sake, for their's is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are ye when men revile you, persecute you, and speak evil against you for my sake: rejoice and be glad, for great is your reward in heaven; for so did they persecute the prophets that were before you. Christ our master hath told us beforehand, that the brother should put the brother to death, and the father the son, and the children should rise against their parents and kill them, and that Christ's true apostles should be hated of all men for his name's sake; but he that shall abide patiently unto the end, shall be saved.

LET us then endure in all troubles patiently, after the example of our master Christ, and be con|tented therewith, for he suffered, being our Master and Lord: how doth it then become us to suffer? For the disciple is not above his Master, nor the servant above his Lord. It may suffice the disciple to be as his master, and the servant to be as his lord. If they have called the Father of the family, the Master of the houshold, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, how much more shall they ••••ll them so of his houshold? Fear them not (saith our Saviour) for all hidden things shall be ••ade plain; there is now nothing secret, but it sha•••• be shewed in light. Of Christ's word•• let us neither be ashamed nor afraid to speak them; for so Christ commandeth us, saying, What I tell you privily, speak openly abroad, and what I tell you in your ear, preach openly on the ho••se top. And fear not them which k••ll the body, for the soul they cannot kill; but fear him which can cast both body and soul into hell-fire.

KNOW ye that our our heavenly Father hath ever a gracious eye and respect toward you, and a fa|therly providence for you, so that nothing without his knowledge and permission can do you harm. Let us therefore cast all our care upon him, he shall provide that which shall be best for us. For if of two small sparrows, which both are sold for a mite, one of them lighteth not on the ground without your Father, and all the hairs of our head are numbered, fear not them (saith our master Christ) for you are worth more than many sparrows. And let us not stick to confess our master Christ for fear of danger, whatsoever it shall be, remembering the promise that Christ maketh, saying, Whosoe|ver shall confess me before men, him shall I confess before my Father which is in heaven: but whoso|ever shall deny me, him shall I likewise deny before my Father which is in heaven. Christ came not to give us here a carnal amity, and a worldly peace, or to knit his unto the world in ease and peace, but rather to separate and divide from the world, and to join them unto himself: in whose cause we must, if we will be his, forsake father and mother, and stick unto him. If we forsake him or shrink from him for trouble or death's sake, which he calleth his cross; he will none of us, we cannot be his. If for his cause we shall lose our temporal lives here, we shall find them again, and enjoy them for evermore: but if, in his cause, we will not be contented to leave nor lose them here, then shall we lose them so, that we shall never find them again, but in everlasting death. What though our trouble•• here are painful for the time, and the st••ng of death bitter and unpleasant; yet we know that they shall not last, in comparison of eternity, ••o not the twinkling of an eye, and that they, pa|tiently taken in Christ's cause, shall procure and

get us unmeasurable heaps of heavenly glory, unto which these temporal pains of death and troubles compared▪ are not to be esteemed, but to be re|joiced upon. Wonder not, saith St. Peter, as though it were any strange matter that ye are tried by the 〈◊〉〈◊〉, he meaneth of tribulation, which thing, saith he, is done to prove you; nay, rather in that ye are partners of Christ's afflictions, rejoice that in his glorious revelation ye may rejoice with mer|ry hearts. If ye suffer rebukes in Christ's name, happy are ye, for the glory and Spirit of God resteth upon you. Of them God is reviled and dishonoured, but of you he is glorified.

LET no man be ashamed of that which he suffer|eth as a christian, and in Christ's cause; for now is the time that judgment and correction must begin at the house of God: and if it begin first at us, what shall be the end of those, think ye, which believe not the gospel? And if the righteous shall be hardly saved, the wicked and the sinner, where shall he appear? Wherefore they which are afflicted according to the will of God, let them lay down and commit their souls ro him by well doing, as to a trusty and faithful maker. This, as I said, may not seem strange to us, for we know that all the whole fraternity of Christ's congregation in this world is served with the like, and by the same is made perfect. For the servant love that the apostles had unto their master Christ, and for the great advantages and increase of all godliness which they felt by their faith to insue of afflictions in Christ's cause, and also for the heaps of heavenly joys which the same do get unto the godly, which shall endure in heaven for evermore; for these causes (I say) the apostles did joy of their afflictions, and rejoiced in that they were had and accounted worthy to suffer contumelies and rebukes for Christ's name. And St. Paul, as he glorieth in the grace and favour of God, whereunto he was brought and stood in by faith; so he rejoiced in his afflictions for the hea|venly and spiritual profits which he numbered to rise upon them: yea, he was so far in love with what the carnal man loatheth so much, that is, with Christ's cross, that he judged himself to know nothing else but Christ crucified: he will glory, he saith, in nothing else but in Christ's cross, yea, and he blesseth all those as the only true Israelites, and elect people of God, with peace and mer|cy, which walk after that rule, and after no other.

O Lord, what a wonderful spirit was that, that made Paul, in setting forth of himself against the vanity of Satan's false apostles, and in his claim there, that he, in Christ's cause, did excel and surpass them all? What wonderful spirit was that, I say, that made him to reckon up all his troubles, his labours, his beatings, his whippings and scourg|ings, his shipwrecks, his dangers and perils by water and by land, his famine, hunger, nakedness, and cold, with many more, and the daily care of all the congregations of Christ, among whom every man's pain did pierce his heart, and every man's grief was grievous unto him? O Lord, is this Paul's prima••y, whereof he thought so much good that he did excel others? Is not this Paul's saying unto Timothy his own Scholar? And doth it not pertain to whosoever will be Christ's true soldiers? Bear thou, saith he, affliction like a true soldier of Jesus Christ. This is true; if we die with him (he meaneth Christ) we shall live with him; if we suffer with him, we shall reign with him; if we deny him, he shall deny us; if we be faithless, he remaineth faithful, he cannot deny himself This, Paul would have known to every body; for there is no other way to heaven but Christ and his way: and all that will live godly in Christ, shall (saith St. Paul) suffer persecution. By this way went to heaven the patriarchs, the prophets, Christ our master, his apostles, his martyrs, and all the godly since the beginning. And as it hath been of old, that he which was born after the flesh, persecuted him who was born after the spirit, for so it was in Isaac's time; so said St. Paul, it was in his time also. And whether it be so now or no, let the spiritual man, the self same man I mean, that is endued with the spirit of Almighty God, let him be judge. Of the cross of the patriarchs, as ye may read in their stories, if ye read the book Genesis, ye shall perceive. Of others, St. Paul in a few words comprehendeth much matter, speaking in a gene|rality of the wonderful afflictions, death, and tor|ments which the men of God in God's cause, and for the truth's sake, willingly and gladly did suffer. After much particular rehearsal of many, he saith, Others were racked and despised, and would not be delivered, that they might obtain a better re|surrection.

Others again were tried wi•••• ••••ockings and s••ourgings, and mor••••ver wi••h ••onds and imprisonment; they were 〈…〉〈…〉, tempted, fell, and were slain upon the e••ge of the sword; some wandered to and fro in sheep-skins, in goat-skins, forsaken, oppressed, afflicted, such godly men as the world was unworthy of, wander|ing in wildernesses, in mountains, in caves, and in dens, and all these were commended for their faith. And yet they abide for us the servants of God, and for those their brethren which are to be slain as they were for the word of God's sake, that none be shut out, but that we may all go together to meet our master Christ in the air at his coming, and so be in bliss with body and soul for evermore.

THEREFORE seeing we have so much occasion to suffer, and to take afflictions for Christ's name's sake patiently, so many advantages thereby, so weighty causes, so many good examples, so great necessity, so pure promises of eternal life and hea|venly joys of him that cannot lie: let us throw away whatever might hinder us, all burden of sin, and all kind of carnality, and patiently and con|stantly let us run for the best game in this race that is set before us, ever having our eyes upon Jesus Christ, the captain and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, not minding the shame and ignominy thereof, and is set now at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider this, that he suffered such strife of sinners against himself, that ye should not give over nor faint in your minds. As yet, brethren, we have not withstood unto death fighting against sin. Let us never forget, dear brethren, for Christ's sake, that fatherly exhortation of the wise man that speaketh unto us as unto his children, the godly wisdom of God, saying thus; my son, despise not the correction of the Lord, nor fall from him when thou art rebuked of him; for whom the Lord loveth him doth he correct, and scourgeth every child whom he receiveth. What child is he whom the father doth not chasten? If ye be free from chastisement, whereof all are partakers, then are ye bastards, and no children. Seeing then, when as we have had carnal parents which chastered us, we reverenced them, shall not we much more be subject unto our spiritual Father that we might live? And they for a little time have taught us after their own mind, but this Father teacheth us to our ad|vantage, to give unto us his holiness. All chastise|ment for the present time appeareth not pleasant but painful; but afterwards it rendereth the fruit of righteousness on them which are exercised in it. Wherefore let us be of good cheer, good brethren, and let us pluck up our feeble members that were fallen or begun to faint, heart, hands, knees, and all the rest, and let us walk upright and straight, that no limping nor halting bring us out of the way. Let us not look upon the things that be present, but with the eyes of our faith let us sted|fastly behold the things that be everlasting in hea|ven, and so chuse rather in respect of that which is to come, with the chosen members of Christ to bear Christ's cross, than for his shortlife time to enjoy all the riches, honours, and pleasures of the broad world. Why should we Christians fear death? Can death de|prive us of Christ, which is all our comfort, our joy, and our life? Nay forsooth. But contrary, death shall deliver us from this mortal body, which loadeth and beareth down the spirit, that it cannot so well perceive heavenly things; on which so long as we dwell, we are absent from God.

WHEREFORE understanding our state in that we be christians, that if our mortal body, which is our earthly house, were destroyed, we have a building, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens, therefore we are of good cheer, and know that when we are in the body, we are absent from God; for we walk by faith, and not by sight. Nevertheless we are bold, and had rather be absent from the body, and present with God. Wherefore we strive, whether we be present at home, or ab|sent abroad, that we may always please him; and who that hath true faith in our Saviour Christ, whereby he knoweth somewhat truly what Christ our Saviour is, that he is the eternal Son of God, Life, Light, the Wisdom of the Father, all good|ness, all righteousness, and whatsoever is good that heart can desire, yea infinite plenty of all these, above what man's heart can either conceive or think (for in him dwelleth the fulness of the God|head corporally), and also that he is given us of

the Father, and made of God to be our wisdom, our righteousness, our holiness, and our redemp|tion: who, I say, is he that believeth this indeed, that would not gladly be with his master Christ? Paul for this knowledge coveted to be loosed from the body, and to have been with Christ, for he counted it much better for himself, and had rather be loosed than to live. Therefore these words of Christ to the thief on the cross, that asked of him mercy, were full of comfort and solace: This day thou shalt be with me in paradise. To die in the defence of Christ's gospel, it is our bounden duty to Christ, and also to our neighbour. To Christ, be|cause he died for us, and rose again that he might be Lord over all. And seeing he died for us, we also, saith St. John, should hazard, yea give our life for our brethren, and this kind of giving and losing, is getting and winning indeed: for he that giveth or loseth his life thus, getteth and winneth it for ever|more. Blessed are they therefore that die in the Lord, and if they die in the Lord's cause, they are most happy of all. Let us not then fear death, which can do us no harm, otherwise than for a moment to make the flesh to smart: but that our faith, which is fastened and fixed upon the word of God, telleth us that we shall be anon after death in peace, in the hands of God, in joy, in solace, and that from death we shall go straight unto life. For St. John saith, He that liveth, and believeth in me, shall never die. And in another place, he shall depart from death unto life. And therefore this death of the christian is not to be called death, but rather a gate of entrance into everlasting life. Therefore Paul calleth it but a dissolution and change, and both Peter and Paul, a putting off this tabernacle or dwelling house: meaning thereby the mortal body, as wherein the soul or spirit doth dwell here in this world sort a short time. Yea, this my death may be called, to the christian, an end of all miseries. For so long as we live here, we must pass through many tribulations before we can enter into the kingdom of heaven. And now, after that death hath shot his b••lt, all the christian man's enemies have dore what they can, after that they have no more to do. What could hurt or harm poor Lazarus that lay at the rich man's gate? his former penury and poverty? his misery, beggary, and horrible sore•• and sickness? No: as soon as death had struck him with his dart, so soon came the angels, and carried him straight up into Abra+ham's bosom. What lost he by death, who from misery and pain is conducted, by the ministry of angels, into a place of joy and felicity?

FAREWEL, dear brethren, farewel; let us comfort our hearts in all troubles, and in death, with God's word, for heaven and earth shall perish, but the word of the Lord endureth for ever.

FAREWEL, Christ's dearly beloved spouse, here wandering in this world in a strange land, encom|passed about with deadly enemies, who see thy destruction.

FAREWEL, farewel, O ye the whole universal con|gregation of the chosen of God here living upon earth, the true church militant of Christ, the true mystical body of Christ, the very houshold and family of God, and the sacred temple of the Holy Ghost, farewel.

FAREWEL, O thou little flock of the high hea|venly pastors of Christ, for to you it hath pleased the heavenly Father to give an everlasting and eter|nal kingdom. Farewel.

FAREWEL, thou spiritual house of God, thou holy and royal priesthood, thou chosen generation, thou holy nation, thou won spouse. Farewel, farewel.

Bishop RIDLEY'S Lamentation for the Change of Reli|gion in England; also a Comparison between the Doctrine of the Gospel, and the Romish Religion, with wholesome Instructions to all Christians, how to behave themselves in Time of Trial.

ALAS, what misery is thy church brought un|to, O Lord, at this day! Where of late the word of the Lord was truly preached, was read and heard in every town, in every village, yea, and al|most in every honest man's house, alas, now it is exiled and banished out of the whole realm. Of late who was not taken for a lover of God's word, for a reader, for a really hearer, and for a learner of the same! And now, alas, who

dare bare any open countenance towards it, but such as are content in Christ's cause, and for his word's sake to stand to the danger and loss of all they have!

OF late there were to be found, of every age, of every degree and kind of people, some that gave their diligence to learn (as they could) out of God's word, the articles of the christian faith, the com|mandments of God, and the Lord's prayer. The babes and young children were taught these things by their parents, their masters, and weekly by their curates in every church; and the aged folk, which had been brought up in blindness, and in ignorance of those things which every christian is bound to know, when otherwise they could not, yet they learned the same by often hearing their children and servants repeat the same: but now (alas, and alas again) the false prophets of Antichrist, which are past all shame, do openly preach in pulpits unto the people of God, that the catechism is to be ac|counted heresy: whereby their old blindness is brought home again: for the aged are afraid of the higher powers, and the youth are abashed and a|shamed, even of that which they have learned, even though it be God's word, and dare no more meddle.

OF late in every congregation throughout all England, prayer and petition was made unto God to be delivered from the tyranny of the bishop of Rome, and all his detestable enormities, from all false doctrine and heresy; and now, alas, Satan hath persuaded England by his falshood and craft, to revoke her old godly prayer, to recant the same, and draw down the fearful wrath and indignation of God upon her own pate.

OF late by strict laws and ordinances, with the consent of the nobles and commonalty, and full agreement and counsel of the prelates and clergy, the beast of Babylon was banished hence, with laws, I say, and with oaths, and all means that then could be devised for so godly a purpose: but now, (alas) all these laws are trodden under foot: the nobles, the commonalty, the prelates and clergy are quite changed, and all those oaths, though they were made in judgment, justice, and truth, and the 〈…〉〈…〉 than a bond of rushes, or a barley straw, and public perjury no more terrifieth them, than a shadow upon •• wall.

OF late it was agreed in England of all hands, according to St. Paul's doctrine, and Christ's com|mandment, that nothing ought to be done in the church, in the public congregation, but in that tongue which the congregation could understand, that all might be edified thereby, whether it were common prayer, administration of the sacraments, or any other thing belonging to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 public ministry of God's holy and wholesome 〈◊〉〈◊〉 but, alas, all is turned upside down, Paul's doctrine is put apart, Christ's commandment is not regarded. For no|thing is heard commonly in the church but a strange tongue, that the people do not understand.

OF late all men and women were taught after Christ's doctrine, to pray in that tongue which they could understand, that they might pray with heart that which they should speak with their tongue: now, alas, the unlearned people are brought into that blindness again, to think that they pray, when they speak with their tongue they cannot tell what, nor whereof their hearts are nothing mindful at all, for that it cannot understand a whit thereof.

OF late the Lord's supper was duly administered, and taught to be common to all that are true chris|tians, with thanksgiving, and setting forth of the Lord's death and passion until his returning again, to judge both quick and dead: but now, alas, the Lord's table is quite overthrown, and that which ought to be common to all the godly, is made pri|vate to a few ungodly, without any kind of thanks|giving, or any setting forth of the Lord's death at all, that the people are able to understand.

OF late all that were endued with the light and grace of understanding God's holy mysteries, did bless God, who had brought them out of that hor|rible blindness and ignorance▪ whereby in times past being seduced by Satan's subtleties, they believed that the sacrament was not the sacrament, but the thing itself whereof it is a sacrament▪ that the crea|ture was the creator, and that the thing which had neither life nor sense, 〈…〉〈…〉 was the ho••r••ble blindness▪ was the Lord himself, which made the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to see, and hath given all senses and 〈…〉〈…〉

unto man: but now, alas, England is returned again like a dog to her own vomit and spewing, and is in worse case than ever she was: for it had been better never to have known the truth, than to forsake the truth once received and known: and now not only that light is turned into darkness, and God's grace is received in vain, but also laws of death are made by the high court of parliament, masterfully to maintain by sword, fire, and all kind of violence, that heinous idolatry, wherein that adoration is given unto the lifeless and dumb crea|ture, which is only due unto the everliving God: yea, they say they can, and do make of bread both man and God, by their transubstantiation. O wick|ed men, and Satan's own brood!

OF late was the Lord's cup at his table distribu|ted according to his own commandment, by his express words in the gospel, as well to the laity as to the clergy, which order Christ's church observed so many hundred years after, as all the ancient eccle|siastical writers do testify, without contradiction of any one of them, that can be shewed unto this day: but now, alas, not only the Lord's commandment is broken, his cup denied to his servants, to whom he commandeth it should be distributed, but also with the same is set up a new blasphemous kind of sacrifice to satisfy and pay the price of sins both of the quick and the dead, to the great and intolerable reproach of Christ our Saviour's death and passion, which was and is the one only sufficient and everlasting available sacrifice, satisfactory for all the elect of God, from Adam the first, to the last that shall be born in the world.

OF late the commandment of God, "Thou shalt not make to thyself any graven image, nor any simi|litude nor likeness of any thing in heaven above, or in earth beneath, or in the water under the earth, thou shalt not bow down to them nor worship them:" this commandment of God, I say, was graven almost every where in churches, was learned by every body both old and young; whereupon images that provoked the simple and ignorant unto idolatry, as the wise man saith, were taken out of the churches, and strictly forbidden that none should any where bow down to them, or worship them: but now, alas, God's holy word is blotted and razed out of churches, and stocks and stones are set up in the place thereof. God commanded his word so to be ordered, that it might be had in continual re|membrance at all times, and in every place: and on the other side, he forbid images and idols so to be either made or set in any place, where any should bow or worship them: but now, alas, that which God commanded is not minded, and that which he forbiddeth, is powerfully maintained by falshood and craft, and wickedly upheld.

OF late all ministers that were admitted to the public office and ministry of God's holy word, in their admission made a solemn profession before the congregation, that they should teach the people nothing as doctrine necessary to eternal salvation, but that which is God's own holy word, or may be thereon grounded without any doubt; whereby vanished and melted away of themselves many vain, yea, wicked traditions of man, as wax before the fire: but now at one brunt they are revived, and are in full hope also to return again in as great strength as ever they have been. And how can a|ny man look for any other thing, but when you have received the head, you must also receive the whole body, or else how can the head abide? The head, under Satan, of all mischief, is Antichrist and his brood, the same is he which is the Babylonical beast. The beast is he, whereupon the whore ••it|teth. The whore is that city, saith John in plain words, which hath empire over the kings of the earth. This whore hath a golden cup of abomina|tions in her hand, whereof she maketh to drink the kings of the earth, and of the wine of this harlot have all nations drank, yea and kings of the earth have lain by this whore, and merchants of the earth, by virtue of her pleasant merchandize, have been made rich.

NOW what city is there in all the whole world, that when John wrote, ruled over the kings of the earth; or what city can be read of in any time, that of the city itself challenged the empire over the kings of the earth, but only the city of Rome, and that since the usurpation of that see hath grown to her full strength? And is it not read that the old and ancient writers understand Peter's former epistle to be written at Rome, and it to be called of him in the same epistle in plain terms, Babylon? By the abominations thereof I understand all the whole

trade of the Romish religion, under the name and title of Christ, which is contrary to the only rule of true religion, that is, God's word. What word of God hath that devilish drab for the mainte|nance of her manifold abominations, and to set to sale such merchandize, wherewith (alas! the madness of man) the wicked harlot hath almost bewitched the whole world? Did not Peter, the very true a|postle of Christ (of whom this stinking strumpet beareth herself so high, but falsely and without all just cause) did not he, I say, give all the world war|ning of her pelf and trash, of her false doctors and apostles (for this whore will be called the Lord's apostle, whosoever say nay) after this manner in his latter epistle? "There were among the people in times past false prophets, as there shall be among you in time to come false preachers, which shall privily bring in pestilent sects, even denying the Lord which hath bought them and redeemed them, procuring to themselves swift damnation, and many shall follow their damnable ways, by whom the way of truth shall be railed upon, and through cove|tousness by counterfeit tales or sermons, they shall make merchandize upon you," &c. And doth not John likewise in his Revelation, after he hath reckoned up a great rabblement of this whore's mystical merchandize, at the last (as though he would knit up all in plain words, without any mist at all, setting out the whore's merchandize) reckon up amongst the rest, and concludeth, saying, And the souls of men too? Whereupon, I pray you, else rose this true proverb in Latin, Omnia Romae venalia, that is, All things for money are set to sale at Rome?

BUT you would know which be these merchan|dizes which I said this whore setteth forth to sell, for which all her false prophets, with all their jug|glings and crafty glosses, cannot bring one jot of God's word. Surely, they be not only all these abominations which are come into the church of England already (wherefore I have spoke somewhat before) but also an innumerable rabblement of abo|minations and wicked abuses, which now must needs follow; as popish pardons, pilgrimages, Ro|mish purgatory, Romish masses, dispensations, and immunities from all godly discipline, laws and good order, pluralities, unions, with a thousand more. Now shall come in the flattering friars and the false pardoners, and play their old pranks and knavery as they were wont to do. Now shall you have (but of the see of Rome only, and that for money) cononizing of such saints as have stood stout in the pope's cause, shrining of relics, and from any kind of wickedness (if you will pay well for it) clear ab|solution from punishment and crime, for thousands of years; yea, and at every bishop's hand and suf|fragan, ye shall have hallowing of churches, cha|pels, altars, super••altars, chalices, and of all the whole houshold stuff and adornment which shall be used in the church after the Roman guise, for all these things must be esteemed of such high price, that they may not be done but by a consecrated bishop only. O Lord, all ••hese things are such as thy apostles never knew. As for conjuring (they call it hallowing, but it is conjuring indeed) of water and salt, of christening of bells, and such like things, what need I speak? For every priest that can but read, hath power (they say) not only to do that, but also hath such power over Christ's body, as to make both God and man once at the least every day of a wafer cake.

AFTER the rehearsal of the said abominations, and remembrance of a number of many more, which (the Lord knoweth) it grieveth me to think upon, and were too long to describe; when I con|sider on the other side the eternal word of God that abideth for ever, and the undefiled law of the Lord which turneth the soul from all wickedness, and giveth wisdom unto the innocent babes, I mean that milk that is without all guile, as Peter calleth it, that good word of God, that word of truth that must be engraven within the heart, and then is able to save men's souls; that wholesome seed, not mor|tal, but immortal, of the eternal and everlasting God, whereby the man is born anew, and made the child of God, that seed of God, whereby the man of God so b••ing born, cannot sin, as John sai••h, (he meaneth so long as that seed abideth in him) that holy scripture which hath not been devised by the wit of man, but taught from heaven by the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, which is profitable to teach, to reprove, to correct, to instruct, and to give order in all righteousness, that the man of God may be whole and sound, ready to perform every good work: when, I say, I consider this holy and wholesome true word that teacheth us truly

our bound••n duty towards our Lord God in every p••int, what his will and pleasure is, what his infi|nite great goodness and mercy is, what he hath done for us, how he hath given us his own dearly be|loved Son to death for our salvation, and by him hath sent us the revelation of his blessed will and pl••asure, what his eternal word willeth us both to believe, and also to do; and hath for the same pur|pose inspired the holy apostles with the Holy Ghost, and sent them abroad into all the world, and also made them and other disciples of Christ inspired by the same Spi••it, to write and leave behind them the same things that they taught (which as they did prooved of the Spirit of truth, so by the confession of all them that ever were endued with the Spirit of God, were sufficient to the obtaining of eternal salvation) and likewise when I consider that all that man doth profess in his regeneration, when he is re|ceived into the holy catholic church of Christ, and is now to be accounted for one of the lively mem|bers of Christ's own body, all that is grounded upon God's holy word, and standeth in the profession of that faith, and obedience of commandments which are all contained in God's holy word.

AND furthermore, when I consider whom our Sa|vi••ur Christ pronounceth in his gospel to be blessed, and to whom Mos••s 〈…〉〈…〉 in the law, what ways the law▪ the prophets, the psalms, and all holy scriptures, both new and old, do declare to be the wa••s of the Lord, what is good for man to obtain and abide in God's savour, which is that faith that justifieth before God, and what is that charity that doth pass and excel all, which be the properties of heavenly wisdom, and which is 〈◊〉〈◊〉 undefiled religion which is allowed of God, which things Christ himself calleth the weighty matters of the law, which thing is that which is only available in Christ, and what knowledge is that that St. Paul esteemed so much, that he counted all else vanity, what shall be the manner of the extreme judgment of the latter day, who shall judge, and by what he shall judge, and what shall be required at our hands on that fearful day, how all things must be tried by the fire, and that only shall stand for ever which Christ's words shall allow, which shall be the judge of all flesh, to give sentence upon all flesh▪ and every living soul, either of eternal damnation, o•• of everlasting salvation, from which sentence there shall be no place to appeal, no wit shall serve to elude, nor any power to withstand or revoke. When (I say) I consider all these things, and confer to the same again and again all those ways wherein standeth the substance of the Romish religion (whereof I spake before) it may be evident and easy to perceive, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 these two ways, these two re|ligious, the one of Christ, the other of the Romish see, in these latter days be as far distant the one from the other, as light and darkness, good and evil, righteousness and unrighteousness, Christ and Belial. He that is hard of belief, let him note and weigh well with himself those places of holy scripture whereupon this talk is grounded, and by God's grace he may receive some light. And unto the contemner I have nothing now to say, but to re|hearse the saying of the prophet Isaiah, which Paul spake to the Jews in the end of the Acts of the Apostles. After he had expounded to them the truth of God's word, and declared to them Christ out of the law of Moses and the prophets, all the day long from morning to night, he said unto them that would not believe, "Well spake the Holy Ghost unto our fathers, saying▪ Go unto this people and tell them, ye shall hear with your ears, and not understand, and seeing you shall behold, and not see the thing: for the heart of this people is waxed gross and dull, and with their ears they are hard of hearing, and they have shut together their eyes, that they should not see, nor hear with their ears, nor understand with their hearts, that they might return, and I should heal them, saith the Lord God."

ALAS, England, alas, that this heavy plague of God should fall upon thee. Alas, my dearly be|loved country, what thing is it now that may do thee good? Undoubtedly thy plague is so great, that it is utterly incurable, but by the bottomless mercy and infinite power of Almighty God. A|las, my dear country, what hast thou done that thou hast provoked the wrath of God, and caused him to pour out his vengeance upon thee for thine own de|serts? Canst thou be content to hear thy faults told thee? Alas, thou hast heard oft, and would never amend. England, thy faults of all degrees and sorts of men, of magistrates, of the ministers' and of the common people, were never more plain|ly told since thou bore that name, than thou didst

hear them of late, even before the magistrates in king Edward's days; but thou heardst them only, and didst amend never a whit. For even of thy greatest magistrates some (the king's highness then, that innocent, that godly-hearted and peerless young christian prince excepted) evermore unkindly and ungently, against those that went about most whole|somely to cure their sore backs, spurned privily, and would not spare to speak evil of them, even unto the prince himself, and yet would they towards the same preachers outwardly bear a jolly countenance and a fair face.

I have heard that Cranmer, and another whom I will not name, were both in high displeasure, the one for shewing his conscience secretly, but plainly and fully in the duke of Somerset's cause, and both of late, but especially Cranmer, for repugning as they might, against the late spoil of church goods, taken away only by commandment of the higher powers, without any law or order of justice, and without any request or consent of them to which they did belong. As for Latimer, Lever, Brad|ford, and Knox, their tongues were so sharp, they ripped in so deep in their galled backs, to have pur|ged them (no doubt) of that filthy matter that was festered in their hearts, of insatiable covetousness, of filthy carnality and voluptuousness, of intolerable ambition and pride, of ungodly loathsomeness to hear poor men's causes, and to hear God's word, that these men of all others these magistrates could never abide. Others that were very godly men, and well learned, that went about by the wholesome plaisters of God's word, howbeit after a more soft manner of handling the matter, but, alas, all sped alike. For all that could be done of all hands, their disease did not diminish, but daily did increase, which, no doubt, is no small occasion in that state of the heavy plague of God that is poured upon Eng|land at this day. As for the common lawyers, it may be truly said of them, as of the most part of the clergy, of curates, vicars, pa••sons, prebendaries, doctors of the law, archdeacons, deans, yea, and I may say, of bishops a••so, I fear, for the most part, (although I doubt not but God had, and hath ever, whom he in every state knew and knoweth to be his) but for the most part, I say, they were never persuaded in their hearts, but from the teeth for|ward, and for the king's sake, in the truth of God's word, and yet all these did dissemble, and bear a copy of a countenance, as if they had been found within.

HYPOCRISY and dissimulation St. Jerome doth well call a double wickedness; for neither it loveth the truth (which is one great evil) and also falsely it pretendeth to deceive the simple for another thing. This hypocrisy and dissimulation with God, in mat|ters of religion, no doubt, hath wholly also pro|voked the anger of God. And as for the common people, although there were many good, where they were well and diligently taught; yet (God knoweth) a great number received God's true word and high benefits with unthankful hearts. For i•• was great pity and a lamentable thing to have seen in many places the people so loathsomely and irre|ligiously to come to the holy communion, and to receive it accordingly, and to the common prayers, and other divine service, which were according to the true vein of God's holy word, and in all points so godly and wholesomely set forth, in comparison of that blind zeal, and undiscreet devotion which they had aforetimes to those things▪ whereof they understood never one whit, nor could be edified by them any thing at all.

AND again, as for our alms-deeds, which are taught in God's word, whereby we are certain that God is pleased with them, and doth and will re|quire such at our hands, which are a put of true religion, as St. James saith, and such as he saith himself he setteth more by than by sacrifice; to provide for the fatherless, infants and orphans, for the same, aged, and impotent poor needy folk, and to make public provision that the poor that might labour, should have wherewith to labour upon, and so he kept from shameful beggary and stealing in these works: I say, how wayward were many, in comparison (I mean) of that great prodigality whereby in times past they spared not to spend upon flattering friars, false pardoners, painting and gilding of stocks and stones, to be set up and ho|noured in churches, plainly against God's word? And yet because no place is to be defrauded of their just commendation, London, I must confess, for such godly works in sir Richard Dobs, knight, then

lord mayor, his year being marvellous well: the Lord grant the same may so likewise persevere, con|tinue, yea and increase, to the comfort and relief of the needy and helpless, that was so godly begun. Amen.

ALL these things do administer more matter of mourning and bewailing the miserable state that now is: for by this it may be perceived, how En|gland hath deserved this just plague of God. And also it is greatly to be feared, that those good things, whatsoever they were that had their beginning in the time when God's word was so freely preached, now with the exile and banishment of the same, will depart again.

BUT to return again to the consideration of this miserable state of Christ's church in England, and to leave farther and more exquisite searching of the causes thereof unto God's secret and unsearcha|ble judgments, let us see what is best now to be done for Christ's little flock. This is one maxim and principle in Christ's law; He that denieth Christ before men, him shall Christ deny, before his Father and all his angels in heaven. And there|fore every one that looketh to have by Christ our Saviour everlasting life, let him prepare himself so, that he deny not his master Christ, or else he is but a castaway, and a wretch, howsoever he be counted or taken here in the world.

NOW then seeing the doctrine of Antichrist is returned again into this realm, and the higher pow|ers (alas) are so deceived and bewitched, that they are persuaded it is the truth, and Christ's true doc|trine to be error and heresy, and the old laws of Antichrist are allowed to return with the power of their father again: what can be hereafter looked for, by reason, to the man of God, and true chris|tian, abiding in this realm, but extreme violence of death, or else to deny his Master? I grant the hearts of princes are in God's hands, and wither|soever he will he can make them bow: and also that christian kings in old time used a more gentle kind of punishment, even to them which were he|retics indeed; as degradation, and deposition out of their rooms and offices, exile and banishment out of their dominions and countries: and also (as it is read) the true bishops of Christ's church were sometime intercessors for the heretics unto princes, that they would not kill them, as is read of St. Augustine. But as yet Antichrist's kingdom was not so e••ected at that time, nor is now accustomed so to order them th•••• will not fall down and worship the beast and his image (but even as all the world knoweth) after the same manner that both John and Daniel hath prophesied before, that is, by vio|lence of death▪ and Daniel declareth farther, that the kind of death accustomably should be by sword, fire, and imprisonment.

THEREFORE, if thou, O man of God, dost pur|pose to abide in this realm, prepare and arm thy|self to die: for both by Antichrist's accustomable laws, and th••se prophesies, there is no appearance or likelihood of any other thing, except thou wilt deny thy master Christ, which is the loss at the last both of body and soul unto everlasting death▪— Therefore my good brother or sister in Christ, whatsoever thou be, to thee that canst and mayest so do, that counsel that I think is the best safeguard for thee, both for thy body, and most surely for thy soul's health, is that which I shall shew thee here|after▪ But first I warn thee to understand me to speak to him or her, which be not in captivity, or called already to confess Christ, but are at liber|ty abroad.

MY counsel, I say, therefore is this, to fly from the plague, and get thee hence. I consider not on|ly the subtilities of Satan, and how he is able to de|ceive by his false persuasions (if it were possible) even the chosen of God, and also the great frailty, which is oftentimes more in a man than he doth know in himself, which in the time of temptation then will utter itself: I do not only consider these things, I say, but that our master Christ, whose life was and is a perfect rule of the christian man's life, that he himself avoided oftentimes the fury and madness of the Jews, by departing from the coun|try or place.

PAUL likewise, when he was sought in Damas|cus, and the gates of the city were laid in wait for him, he was conveyed by night, being let down in a basket out at a window over the wall: and Elias

the prophet fled the persecution of the wicked Je|zabel: and Christ our Saviour saith in the gospel, "When they persecute you in one city, flee unto another:" and so did many good, great, learned▪ and virtuous men of God, who were great and stout champions nevertheless, and stout counsellors and maintainers of Christ and his truth, in due time and place. Of such was the great clerk Atha|nasius. But this is so plain to be lawful by God's word, and examples of holy men, that I need not to stand in it.

HAVING this for my ground, I say to thee, O man of God, this seemeth to me to be the most ••ure way for thy safeguard, to depart and flee far from the plague, and that swiftly also: for truly before God, I think, that the abomination that Daniel prophesied of so long before, is now set up in the holy place. For all the doctrine of Anti|christ, his laws, rites, and religion contrary to Christ, and so to the true serving and worshipping of God, I understand to be that abomination: therefore now is the time in England for those words of Christ, "Then they that be in Judea, let them flee into the mountains." Then (saith he) mark this Christ's (Then) for truly I am per|suaded, and I trust, by the Spirit of God, that this (Then) is commanded; "Then (saith Christ) they that be in Jewry, let them fly unto the moun|tains, and he that is on the house top, let him not come down to take away any thing out of his house, and he that is abroad in the field, let him not return to take his cloaths. Woe be to the great-bellied women, and to them that give suck; but pray (saith Christ) that your flight be not in winter, or on the sabbath-day."

THESE words of Christ are mystical▪ and there|fore had need of interpretation. I understand all those to be in Jewry spiritually, which truly con|fess one true living God, and the whole truth of his word, after the doctrine of the gospel of Christ. Such as they whom Christ here biddeth, in the time or the reign of Antichrist's abomina|••••ons, to fly unto the mountains; which signifieth places of safeguard, and all such things which are able to defend from the plague. That he biddeth him that is on the house top▪ not to come down, and him that is in the field, not to return to take with him his cloaths; he meaneth that they should speed them to get them away betime, lest in their tarrying and trifling about working prevision, they be trapped in the snare ere ever they be aware, and caught by the back, and for gain of small worldly things, endanger and cast themselves into great perils of more weighty matters. And where he saith, Woe be so the great-bellied women, and to them that give suck; women great with child, and nigh to their lying down, and to be brought to bed, and not able to travel; and also those women which are brought to bed, and now give their babes suck: by these therefore Christ spiritu|ally understandeth all such to be in extreme danger, which this word (Woe) signifieth: all such, I say, as are so hindered by any manner of means, that they no ways be able to fly from the plague. And where Christ saith, Pray you that your flight be not in the winter, nor on the sabbath day: in win|ter, the common course of the year teacheth us, that the ways be foul, and therefore it is a hard thing then to take a far journey, for many incom|modities and dangers of the ways in that time of the year; and on the sabbath-day it was not lawful to journey, but a little way. Now Christ therefore meaning that we should have need, both to speed our journey quickly, which cannot be done in winter, for the badness of the ways, and also to go far, which cannot be done on the sabbath-day: he biddeth us therefore pray that our flight be not in the winter, nor on the sabbath-day; that is, to pray that we fly in time, and also far enough from the dan|ger of the plague. Now, the causes why we should fly, follow in the same place of St. Matthew's gospel, which I now pass over; thou mayst read them there.

AND in the eighteenth chapter of the Revelation, the angel is said to have cried mightily with a loud voice, "Flee, my people, out of Babylon, lest you be infected with her faults, and so to be made partners of her plagues: for her offences and sins are grown so great, that they swell, and are come unto the heavens." Certainly the time doth ap|proach, and the Lord's day is at hand. Hear, I beseech you, a••so holy ••aul▪ that blessed apostle, he plainly forbiddeth us, "••o join or couple our|selves with the unfaithful: for what fellowship can there be, saith he, of righteousness with unrighte|ousness, what 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ any 〈◊〉〈◊〉 light with 〈…〉〈…〉,

or what agreement hath Christ with Belial? or what part can the faithful have with the unfaithful? or how doth the temple of God with images or idols? For you are the temple of the living God: as God hath said, I will walk and dwell in them, I will be their God, and they shall be my people: wherefore depart from amongst them, and get you from them, faith the Lord, and touch no unclean thing: and I will receive you, and be to you in the stead of your father, and you shall be unto me as my sons and daughters, saith the Almighty God.

THIS counsel to depart the realm, I do not mar|vel it doth seem to divers (even of them, I mean, that bear favour to Godward) diversly. Many (I trust) that be learned shall think the counsel good. Others there be peradventure, that will think it rather a thing to be more tolerable, and that it may be indeed by God's word lawfully done, ra|ther than to be counselled to be done, for they will peradventure say, we should counsel a man always to do that which is best of all, and of most perfection: but boldly in Christ's cause to spend a man's life, is best of all, and of most perfection, and to fly it may seem to smell of cowardice. In many things, that which is best for one at some|times, is not best for all at all times, and it is not most perfection, nor meet for a child to covet to run before he can go. I will not here make a dis|course in this matter, what might be here objected, and what might be answered again; I leave that to the wit••y and eloquent men of the world.

THIS is my mind, which I would thou shouldst know, O man of God, as I would wish, and I do pray to Almighty God it may be, that every true christian, either brother or sister (after they be called, and brought into the wrestling place, to strive in Christ's cause for the best game, that is, to confess the truth of the gospel, and of the chris|tian faith, in hope of everlasting life) should not shrink nor ••elent one inch, nor give back, whatso|ever shall bef••••, but to stand to their tackle, and stick by it even unto death, as they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Christ shall stick by them at the latter day▪ so likewise I dare not wish nor counsel 〈◊〉〈◊〉, either brother or sister, of their own acco•••• to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 up into the stage, or to cast themselves, either before, and farther in danger than time and need shall require: for undoubtedly when God seeth his time, his pleasure is, that his glory shall be set forth, and his church edified by thy death and confession, means shall be found by his fatherly universal pro|vidence, that thou, without thine own presumptu|ous provocation, shalt be lawfully called, to do thy feat, and play thy part. The miserable end that one Quintus came unto, may be a warning, and a fearful example for all men to beware of presump|tion, and rashness in such things (as Eusebius wri|teth in his ecclesiastical history, lib. 4, cap. 15.) for ever.

BUT a third sort of men there be, who also will be counted favourers of God's word, and are (I fear) in number far more, and worse to be persua|ded to that which is the godly mean. I mean of such as will peradventure say or think, that my former counsel, which was to fly the infection of the antichristian doctrine by departing out of the realm, is more than needeth, and other ways and means may be found, both to abide, and also to be clear out of danger of the aforesaid plague. If that could be found, both to abide, and also to be clear out of danger of the aforesaid plague, truly agreeable to God's word, I would be as glad to hear it, God is my witness, as any other man. Yes, peradventure, will some say, thus it may be: thou mayst keep thyself, thy faith, and thy re|ligion close to thyself, and inwardly and privily worship God in spirit and truth, and outwardly see thou be no open meddler, nor talker, nor trans|gressor of common order: so mayst thou be suffer|ed in the commonwealth, and yet use thy religion without offence of thy conscience. In other coun|tries somewhere this peradventure might be used, but in England what shall be, God knoweth: but it never was yet, so far as ever I have known or heard. And also how can it be, but either thou must transgress the common order, and the Romish laws and customs, which have been used in En|gland, in times past of popery, and now (it is certain) they return again: I say, thou must either be a breaker of these rites, laws, and customs, and so bewray thyself, or else, if thou be indeed a man of God, thou shalt offend thy conscience; for in observing of them thou shalt be compelled to break God's law, which is the rule of conscience to the

man of God. For how canst thou resort every holy day to the church, and bear a face to worship the creature instead of the Creator, as thou must do, and peradventure confess it with thy mouth, and to sprinkle thyself with the conjured water.

THOU must be contributor also to the charges of all their popery, as of books of Antichrist's service, of lights of the rood-loft, of the sepulchre, for setting up and painting images (nay, indeed of idols), and thou must bear a face to worship them also, or else thou must be had by the back. Thou must serve the turn, to give the holy loaves as they call them, which is nothing else but a very mock|ery of the Lord's holy table. Thou must be con|tributor to the charges of all the disguised apparel, that the popish sacrificing priest, like unto Aaron, most play his part in. Yea, when the pardoner goeth about, or the flattering friar to beg for the maintenance of superstition, except thou do as thy neighbours do, look not long to live at rest. If any of thy family die, if thou wilt not pay money for ringing and singing, for requiem, masses, dirige, and commendations, and such like trump|ery of the antichristian religion, thinkest thou that thou shalt be reckoned for a catholic man, or for Caesar's friend? An hundred things more may be reckoned, and many of more weight, and of more evident superstition and idolatry, than some of these which I have now rehearsed, which, God knoweth, be ill enough: but these are enough to declare, and to set before thine eyes, the thing that I intend, that is, if thou abide and wilt dwell in England, thou must either do these, and many other more contrary to God's word, which forbid|deth not only the thing which is evil, but also saith, Abstain from all things that have any ap|pearance of evil; or else if thou wilt not do them, how thou canst live in England in rest, safe from the stake, truly I cannot tell.

BUT peradventure (as man is ready to find, and invent some colour to cloak his conscience, to do that thing that his heart desireth) thou wilt say, though at any time I shall be forced to do any of these things, and such like, yet will I have no confidence in them, but outwardly with my body; I will keep my heart unto God, and will not do that of my own mind willingly neither, but to avoid another inconvenience: I trust therefore God will hold me excused, for he shall have my heart: what can I do more?

O my friend, beware for God's sake, and know that the subtilties of Sat••n are very deep. He that is not able by God's word to perceive them is hea|vily laden. Pray therefore with David; Lord, let me not have a mind to invent excuses to cloak my sin; examine, my dear friend, th••se wily ways with the word of God, and if they do agree, thou mayest use them: if not, know, though they may seem ever so fine and goodly, yet indeed they be of Sa|tan's brood. God's word is certain, that forbid|deth to worship the creature for the Creator, for that is heinous idolatry, and against the command|ment of God; and it is also against the second commandment of the first table to bow down, or to worship unto any images of God, or of any other thing; and God's word requireth not only the belief of the heart, but also the confession of the mouth; and to bear part of the charges, to the maint••nance of things ungodly; what is that, but in thy so doing, a consent to the thing done? Now consen••ers and the doers, God's word ac|counteth to be guilty of both. And it is not lawful, by St. Paul's doctrine, which was inspired by the Spirit of God, to do ill, that thereof the thing which is good may come.

THY heart, thou sayest, God shall have, and yet will suffer thy body to do the thing that God doth abhor. Beware, O man, take heed what thou sayest; man may be deceived, but no man may deceive God, for he is called, and is truly, the searcher of the heart. Now to give God thy heart, is to give him thy whole heart, to dread him, and to trust in him above all other things. "He that hath my commandments, saith Christ, and observeth and keepeth them, it is he that loveth me:" and to dread God above all others, is rather willingly to incur the danger and peril of all fearful things, than wittingly to do that thing which is contrary to his blessed will and commandment; and to trust in him above all things, is assuredly to trust to his promise of his reward, and of his tuition, and of his goodness and mercy, and to prefer that above all things in the world, seem they ever so

strong, so wise, or so good. Now, ••how c••nst thou say truly, that God hath thy heart after this manner of sort, when thy deeds do declare for another thing? Thy body, O man, is God's, and all the parts thereof, even as thy soul is: he made them both, and Christ with his blood re|deemed them both, for he hath bought them both dearly: and darest thou suffer any part of them to do service to Satan? Surely in so doing thou com|mittest sacrilege, and dost rob God; thou defilest the living temple of the living God, if thou suffer thy body to do Satan service. "Do you not know, saith St. Paul, that your body is a lively temple of God?" And may a man then take and use any part thereof but in the service of God? No, sure|ly, it is not lawful so to do for the man of God, neither with hand, tongue, nor feet, nor any part of the whole body.

DOTH not Paul command that to the Romans, which pertaineth to every christian soul? "As you have in times past, saith he, given your mem|bers to do service unto uncleanness and wickedness, from one wickedness to another; so now give your members to do service unto righteousness, that you may be sanctified." And I pray thee, good brother, what dost thou think it is to bear the mark of the beast in the forehead, and in the hand, that St. John speaketh of? I know we ought warily to speak of God's mysteries, which he shew|ed by the spirit of prophesying to his servant John, yet to read them with reverence; and to pray for the same so much as God knoweth is necessary for our time to know, I think it necessary and good. Wherefore what I suppose is to bear the beast's mark, I will tell thee and commit the judgment of mine interpretation, as in all other things, to the spi••••••ual man. I suppose he beareth the beast of Babylon's mark in his forehead, which is not ashamed of the beast's ways, but will profess them openly to set forth his master the beast of Abaddon. And likewise he beareth his mark in his hand, that will and doth practise the works of the beast with his power and hand. And likewise I will not forbear to tell thee, what I think to be signed in the forehead for the servant of God is, whereof John also speaketh, reckoning up many thousands so to have been signed of every tribe. I suppose he is signed in the forehead for the servant of God, whom God hath appointed of his infinit•• goodness, and hath given him grace and strength stoutly to confess him, and his truth before the world. And to have grace and strength to confess Christ, and the doctrine of the cross, and to la|ment and mourn for the abomination of Antichrist, I suppose is to be signed TAU, whereof Ezekiel the prophet doth speak. Thus, I suppose, these prophecies are spiritually to be understood: and to look for other corporal marks, to be seen in men's foreheads, or in their hands, is nothing else but to look that there should come some brute beast ou•• of Babylon, or some elephant, leopard, lion, or some such monstrous beast with ten horns, that should do all the wonderful things spoken in John: and yet a beast speaketh John, but I understand him so to be called, not for that he shall be any such brute beast, but for that he is and shall be the child of perdition, which for his cruelty and beastly manners is well called a beast.

THE carnal Jews knew there was a promise made, that Elias should come before Christ the Messiah, the anointed of God, to prepare his ways: they knew also there was a promise of Messiah, that he should come, and be a king, and reign in the house of David for evermore: but they understood all so grossly, and so carnally, that they neither knew Elias, nor Messiah, when they came; for they looked for Elias to come down from heaven in his own person, and for Messiah to come and reign in worldly pomp, power, riches, and glory, whereas the prophecies of both were spiritually to have been understood: of Elias, that he should not come in person, but in spirit; that is, one that should be endowed with the spirit and gifts of grace of Elias, who was indeed John Bap|tist, as Christ himself did declare to his apostles: and of Messiah's reign, all the prophets were to be understood of the reign of his spiritual kingdom over the house of Jacob, and the true Israelites for evermore. And so by that their gross and carnal understanding, they mistook both Elias and the true Messiah, and when they came, knew neither of them. So likewise, I fear, nay, it is certain, the world that wanteth the light of the Spirit of God (for the world is not able to receive him, saith John) neither doth, nor shall know the beast, nor his marks, though he rage cruelly, and live ever

so beastly, and though his marked men be in num|ber like the sand of the sea. The Lord therefore vouchsafe to open the eyes of the blind with the light of grace, that they may see and perceive, and understand the words of God, after the mind of his Spirit. Amen.

HERE remain two objections, which may seem weighty, and which may peradventure move many not to follow the former counsel. The former reason is, A man will say, O sir, it is no small mat|ter you speak of, to depart from a man's own native country into a strange realm. Many men have so great hindrances, as how is it possible that they can, or may do so? Some have lands and possessions, which they cannot carry with them: some have fa|ther, mother, wife, children, and kinsfolk, from whom to depart is as hard a thing (and all one al|most) as to suffer death, and to go to a strange country that thou knowest not, neither the manner of the people, nor how thou mayst away either with the people, or with the country: or what a hard thing it is to live among a strange people, whose language thou dost not understand, &c.

I grant here thou mayst heap a number of world|ly disadvantages, which are surely very likely to ensue the departure out of a man's native country, I mean out of the whole realm, into a strange land: but what of all these, and a thousand more of the like sort? I will set unto them one saying of our Saviour Christ, which unto the faithful child of God, and to the true christian, is able to countervail all these, yea, and to weigh them down. Christ our Saviour saith in Luke, "If any come to me, and do not hate his father and mother, [he meaneth, and will not in his cause forsake his father and mo|ther] his wife, children, and brethren, yea, and his life too, he cannot be my disciple: and whosoever doth not bear my cross, and come after me, he can|not be my disciple." And, in the same place, he declareth by the two parables, one of a builder, and the other of a king that is a warrior, that every man that will not, in Christ's cause, forsake all that ever he hath, he cannot be his disciple. Look the places who will; the matter is so plainly set forth, that no glosses, nor cloaking of conscience to the man of God, can serve to the contrary. Many places there be for the same purpose for the embra|cing of Christ's cross, when Christ and his cause layeth it upon our back; but this is so plain, that I need here rehearse no more.

THIS latter reason and objection, whereof I spake before, is of more force, and includeth a necessity, which, after the common saying▪ hat•• no law, and therefore it is more hard to shape for it a good an|swer. This may be objected of some; Alas, sir, I grant all these things do grieve me, and because I understand they do not agree with God's word, which is the rule of my conscience, I loath either to look on them, or to hear them. But, sir, alas, I am an impotent man, an aged man, a sick man, a lame man; or I have so many small infants, and a lame wife, who all live by my labour, and by my provision: if I leave them, they will starve, and I am not able to carry them with me, such is my slate. Alas, sir, what shall I do? And these causes may chance to some men of God, whereby either it shall be for them utterly impossible to depart the country, or else in departing they shall be enfor|ced to forsake such in extreme necessity, of whom both God and nature have committed unto them the care.

ALAS! what counsel is here to be given? O lamentable state! O sorrowful heart! that neither can depart, and without extreme danger and peril is not able to tarry still. And these are they whom our Saviour Christ saw before should be, and called them in his prophecy of the latter time, great bel|lied, or travailing women, and women that give, after they are brought to bed, su••k to their babes. Of the state of such as are not able to fly the infec|tion of the pestiferous plague of Antichrist's abo|minations, Christ's lamenting, and not cursing, saith, "Woe be to the great bellied and travailing wo|men, and women that give suck in those days." For these, alas, my heart mourneth the more, the less I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 able to give any comfortable counsel, but this; that always, as they look for everlasting life, they abide still in the confession of his truth, what|sover shall befal, and for the rest, to put their trust now wholly in God, who in able to save them against all appearance; and commonly in extremities, when all worldly comfort faileth, and the danger is at the

highest, then unto his he is wont, after his accus|tomed mercy, to be most ready to put to his help|ing hand. God suffered Daniel to be cast into the den of lions, and the three children into the hot burning furnace, and yet he saved them all. Paul was plucked out of the mouth of the lion (as he saith himself), and in Asia he was brought into such trouble, that he looked for nothing less than present death, and yet he that raised the dead to life again, brought him out of all his troubles, and taught him and all others that be in trouble for Christ's cause, not to trust to themselves, but in Almighty God.

OF God's gracious aid in extreme perils to|wards them that put their trust in him, all scripture is full both of old and new. What dangers were the patriarchs often brought into, as Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, but of all others Joseph, and how mercifully were they delivered again? In what perils was Moses when he was fain to fly for safe|guard of his life? And when he was sent again to deliver the Israelites from their servile bondage? Not before they were brought into extreme misery. And when did the Lord mightily deliver his people from the sword of Pharaoh? Not before they were brought into such straits, that they were so encompassed on every side, the main sea on one side, and the main host on the other, that they could look for none other, (yea, what did they indeed else look for?) but either to have been drowned in the sea, or else to have fallen on the edge of Pharaoh's sword. Those judges which wrought most wonderful things in the delivery of the people, were given when the people was brought to most misery before, as Oth|niel, Ehud, Samgar, Gideon, Jephtha, Samson And so was Saul endued with strength and bold|ness from above, against the Ammonites, Philistines, and Amalekites, for the defence of the people of Gad. David likewise felt God's help most sensi|bly ever in his extreme persecutions. What shall I speak of the prophets of God, whom God suffer|ed so oft to be brought into extreme perils, and so mightily delivered them again: as Elias, Jeremiah, Daniel and Jonah, and many others, whom it were too 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to rehearse and set out at large? And did the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 use his servants otherwise in the new law after Christ's incarnation? Read the Acts of the Apostles, and you shall see no. Were not the apostles cast into prison, and brought out by the mighty hand of God? Did not the angel deliver Peter out of the strong prison, and bring him out by the iron gates of the city, and set him free? And when, I pray you? Even the same night before Herod appointed to have brought him to judgment to have slain him, as he had a little be|fore killed James the brother of John. Paul and Silas, after they had been sore scourged, and were put into the inner prison, and there laid fast in the stocks, I pray you, what appearance was there that the magistrates should be glad to come the next day themselves to them, to desire them to be content, and to depart in peace? Who provided for Paul, that he should be safely conducted out of all danger, and brought to Felix the emperor's deputy, when as both the high-priest, the pharisees, and rulers of the Jews conspired to require judgment of death against him, he being fast in prison, and also more than forty men had sworn each one to the other, that they would neither eat nor drink till they had killed Paul? A thing wonderful, that no reason could have invented, or man could have looked for: God provided Paul his own sister's son, a young man that disappointed that conspiracy, and all their former conjuration. The manner how the thing came to pass, thou mayst read in the Acts xxiii. I will not be tedious unto thee with the rehearsal thereof.

NOW to descend from the apostles to the martyrs that followed next in Christ's church, and in them likewise to declare how gracious our good God over hath been to work wonderfully with them who in his cause have been in extreme perils, it were matter enough to write a long book. I will here name but one man and one woman, that is, Athanasius the great clerk and godly man, stoutly standing in Christ's cause against the Arians, and that holy woman Blandina, standing so constantly in all ex|treme pains, in the simple confession of Christ. If thou wilt have examples of more, look and thou s••alt have these and an hundred more, in Eusebius's ecclesiastical history, and in Tripartita Historia.

BUT for all these examples, both of holy scripture, and of other histories, I fear me the weak man of God, incumbered with the frailty and infirmity of the flesh, will have now and then such thoughts and

qualms (as they call them) to run over his heart, and to think thus: all these things which are re|hearsed out of the scripture I believe to be true, and the rest truly I do think well, and can believe them also to be true; but all these we must needs grant were special miracles of God, which now in our days ••re ceased, we see; and to require them at God's hands, were it not to tempt God?

WELL, beloved brother, I grant such were great wonderful works of God, and we have not seen ma|ny such miracles in our time, either for that our sight is not clear, or else because we have not the like faith of them for whose cause God wrought such things, or because, after he had set forth the truth of his doctrine by such miracles then suffici|ently, the time of so many miracles to be done was expired. Which of these is the most special cause of all other, or whether there be any other, God knoweth; I leave that to God. But know thou this, my well beloved in God, that God's hand is as strong as ever it was, he may do what his graci|ous pleasure is, and he is as good and gracious as ever he was. Man changeth as the garment doth; but God our heavenly Father is even the same now that he was, and shall be for evermore.

THE world without doubt (this I believe, and therefore I say) draweth towards an end, and in all ages God hath had his own manner, after his secret and unsearchable wisdom, to use his elect, some|times to suffer them to drink of Christ's cup, that is, to feel the smart, and to feel of the whip. And though the flesh smarteth at the one, and feeleth ease in the other, is glad of the one, and sore vexed in the other; yet the Lord is all one towards them in both, and loveth them no less when he suffereth them to be beaten, yea, and to be put to bodily death, than when he worketh wonders for their marvellous delivery. Nay, he doth rather more for them, when in an anguish of the torments he standeth by them, and strengtheneth them in their faith, to suffer in the confession of the truth and his faith, the bitter pangs of death, than when he open|eth the prison door and letteth them go loose: for here he doth but respite them to another time, and leaveth them in danger to fall in like peril again; and there he maketh them perfect, to be without danger, pain or peril, after that for evermore. But this his love towards them, howsoever the world doth judge of it, i•• all one, both when he deliver|eth, and when he suffereth them to be put to death. He loved as well Peter and Paul, when (after they had, according to his blessed will, pleasure and pro|vidence, finished their courses, and done their ser|vices appointed them by him here in preaching of his gospel) the one was beheaded, and the other was hanged and crucified by the cruel tyrant Nero, as the ecclesiastical history saith, as when he sent the angel to bring Pet••r out of prison, and for Paul's delivery he made all the doors of the prison to f••y wide open, and the found••tion of the same, like an earthquake, to tremble and shake.

THINKEST thou, O thou man of God, that Christ our Saviour had less affection to the first martyr St. Stephen, because he suffered his enemies even at the first conflict to stone him to death? No surely; nor James, John's brother, who was one of the three that Paul called primates or principals a|mongst the apostles of Christ. He loved him ne|ver a whit the worse than he did the other, although he suffered Herod the tyrant's sword to cut off his head. Nay, doth not Daniel say, speaking of the cruelty of Antichrist's time, And the learned (he meaneth truly learned in God's law) shall teach many, and shall fall upon the sword, and in the flame, (that is, shall be burned in the flaming fire) and in captivity (that is, shall be in prison, and be spoiled and robbed of their goods for a long season). And afterwards in the same place of Daniel it fol|loweth, And of the learned there be, which shall fall or be overthrown, that they may be known, tried choser, and made fresh and lusty. If that then was foreseen to be done to the godly learned, and for such gracious causes, let every one to whom any such thing by the will of God doth chance, be merry in God and rejoice, for it is to God's glory, and to his own everlasting wealth. Wherefore will is he that ever he was born, for whom thus graci|ously God hath provided, having grace of God, and strength of the Holy Ghost to stand stedfast in the height of the storm. Happy is he that ever he was born, whom God his heavenly Father hath vouchsafed to appoint to glorify him, and to edify his church by the effusion of his blood.

TO die in Christ's cause is an high honour, to

which no man certainly shall or can aspire, but to whom God vouchsafeth that dignity: for no man is allowed to presume to take upon himself any office of honour, but he who i•• thereunto called of God. Therefore▪ John saith well, speaking of them who have obtained the victory by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of his testimony that they loved not their lives, even unto death.

AND our Saviour Christ saith, "He that shall lose his life for my cause shall find it." And this man|ner of speech pertaineth not to one kind of chris|tians (as the world doth wickedly dream), but to all that do truly pertain unto Christ. For when Christ had called unto him the multitude together with his disciples, he said unto them (mark that he said not this to the disciples and apostles only, but he said it to all), Whosoever will follow me, let him forsake and deny himself, and take up his cross and follow me: for whosoever will save his life shall lose it (he meaneth, whosoever will, to save his life, forsake or leave him and his truth), and whosoever shall lose his life for my cause and the gospel's sake, shall save it. For what shall it profit a man if he shall win the whole world, and lose his own soul, his own life? or what shall a man give to recompense that los•• of his own life, and of his own soul? Whosoever shall be ashamed of me and my words (that is, to confess me and my gospel) before this sinful and adulterous generation, of him shall the Son of Man be ashamed, when he cometh in the glory of his Father, with the holy angels. Know thou, O man of God, that all things are or|dained for thy behoof, and to the furtherance of thee, towards thy salvation. All things, saith Paul, worketh with the good to goodness, even the ene|mies of God, and such kind of punishments where|by they go about to destroy them, shall be forced by God's power, might, and fatherly providence, to do them service.

IT is not as the wicked thinketh, that poverty, adversity, sickness, tribulation, yea painful death of the godly, be tokens that God doth not love them; but even clean the contrary, as all the whole course of scripture doth evidently declare: for then he would never would have suffered his most dearly beloved, the patriarchs, to have had such troubles, his prophets, his apostles, his martyrs, and chief champions and maintainers of his truth and gospel, so cruelly by the wicked to have been murdered and slain. Of whom some were racked, as the apostle faith, and would not be delivered, that they might receive•• a better resurrection. Some were tried by mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover by bonds and imprisonment: they were stoned, they were sawn asunder, they were tempted, they were slain with the sword, they wandered up and down in sheep-skins and goat-skins, being forsaken, afflicted, and tormented, such men as the world was not worthy to have, wandering in wildernesses, in mountains, in dens and ••aves of the earth. All these were approved by the testimony of faith, and received the promise, because God provided better for us, that without us they should not be consum|mated. They tarry for us now undoubtedly, longing for the day: but they are commanded to have pa|tience yet (saith the Lord) a little while, until the number of their fellow-servants be fulfilled, and of their brethren which are not yet slain, as they were.

NOW (thou, O man of God) for our Lord's sake, let us not for the love of this life, tarry then too long, and be occasion of delay of that glorious con|summation, in hope of expectation whereof they departed in the Lord, and which also the living indued with God's Spirit, ought so earnestly to de|sire and to groan for with all the creatures of God. Let us all, with John the servant of God, cry in our hearts unto our Saviour Christ, Come, Lord Jesus, come. For then when Christ, who is our life, shall be made manifest, and appear in glory, then shall the children of God appear what they be, even like unto Christ: for this our weak body shall be transfigured, and made like unto Christ's glorious body, and that by the power whereby he is able to subdue all things unto himself. Then that which is now corrupible, shall be made incorruptible: that which now is vile, shall be made glorious: that which is now weak, shall rise then mighty and strong: that which is gross and carnal, shall be made fine and spiritual: for then we shall see and have the unspeakable joy and fruition of the glorious Majesty of our Lord, even as he is.

WHO, or what then shall hinder us to jeopard, yea, to spend this life which we have here in Christ's cause? O therefore, thou man of God, thou that art loaden, and so hindered like unto a pregnant woman, that thou canst not fly the plague, yet if thou lust after such things as I have spoken of, stand fast whatsoever shall befal, in thy master's cause; and take this thy hindrance to fly, for a calling of God to fight in thy master Christ's cause. Of this be thou certain, they can do nothing unto thee, which thy Father is not aware of, or hath not foreseen before: they can do no more than it shall please him to suffer them to do for the further|ance of his glory, edifying of his church, and thine own salvation. Let them then do what they shall, seeing to thee, O man of God, all things shall be forced to serve, and to work with thee unto the best before God. O be not afraid, and remember the end.

ALL this which I have spoken for the comfort of the lamentable case of the man whom Christ called great bellied woman, I mean to be spoke likewise to the captive and prisoner in God's cause▪ for such I count to be as it were already summoned and pressed to fight under the banner of the cross of Christ, and as it were soldiers allowed and taken up for the Lord's wars, to do their Lord and master good and honourable service, and ••o stick to him, as men of trusty service in his cause, even unto death, and to think their life lost in his cause, is to win it in eternal glory for ever|more.

THEREFORE, now to conclude and make an end of this treatise, I say unto all that love God our heavenly Father, that love Christ Jesus our Re|deemer and Saviour▪ that love to follow the ways of the Holy Ghost, which is comforter and sancti|fier; unto all that love Christ's spouse and body, the true catholic church of Christ, yea, that love life and their own souls health; I say unto all these, hearken, my dear brethern and sisters, all you that be of God, of all sorts, ages, dignities, or degrees; hearken to the words of our Saviour Jesus Christ, spoken to his apostles, and meant to all his, in St. Matthew's gospel, Fear not them which kill the body, for they cannot kill the soul; but fear him more which may destroy and east both body and soul into hell fire. Are not two small sparrows sold for a mite, and one of them shall not fall or light upon the ground without your Father? All the hairs of your head are numbered. Fear them not, you are much more worth than are the little sparrows. Every one that confesseth me before men, him shall I likewise confess before my Father which is in heaven. But whosoever shall deny me before men, I shall deny him likewise before my Father which is in heaven.

THE Lord grant us therefore of his heavenly grace and strength, that here we may so confess him in this world amongst this adulterous and sinful generation, that he may confess us again at the latter day before his Father which is in heaven, to our glory and everlasting comfort, joy▪ and salvation.

TO our heavenly Father, to our Saviour and Redeemer Jesus Christ, and to the Holy Ghost, be all honour now and for ever. Amen.

NICHOLAS RIDLEY.

The Martyrdom of JOHN WEBB, Gentleman, GEORGE ROPER, and GREGORY PARKE, at Canterbury.

JOHN WEBB was brought before the bishop of Dover, and Nicholas Harpsfield, or some other deputed in their room, on the 16th of Sep|tember, and there had propounded unto him such articles as were commonly administered by Bonner to those of his jurisdiction: and being willed for that present to depart, and to deliberate with him|self upon the matter, against the next time of his appearance; he made answer, that he ••••uld no otherwise say (by God's grace) than he ha•• ••lready said, which was this: As touching the ••••••••ament of Christ's body, said he, I do believe it to be left unto his church (with thanksgiving) in co••••••••emo|ration of his death and passion, until his ••••ming ag••••n. So that it is left in remembrance of his

body, and not by the words of consecration to be made wholly his body, really, substantially, and the same body that was born of the virgin Mary: I utterly deny that.

AFTER this (besides sundry other times) the third of October, the said John Webb, George Roper, and Gregory Parke, were all brought together be|fore the said judges; who there and then agreeing, and stedfastly allowing the former answer made be|fore by Mr. Webb,, were by the bloody prelates adjudged heretics; and therefore about the end of the same month they were brought out of prison together to the place of martyrdom; saying cer|tain psalms mournfully as they were going to the stake.

AND being thus brought (as I said) to the stake, and there encompassed about with a chain, were burnt all together in one fire at Canterbury, most patiently enduring their torments, and accounting themselves happy nnd blessed of the Lord that they were made worthy to suffer for Christ's gos|pel sake.

A short Account of WILLIAM WISEMAN.

THE 13th of December, William Wiseman, a cloth-worker of London, died in Lollard's-Tower, where he was in prison and bonds for the gospel of Christ: some thought, that either through famine, or ill handling of some murdering papists, he was made away. By reason whereof the cor|oner, named John Gibbes, gentleman, with an in|quest of twelve men, sat upon him, who although to outward appearance, were said to find nothing in him else but only God's visitation, yet what other privy causes there might be of his death, the Lord knoweth, I have not to say.

AFTER the said William Wiseman was departed (as is said) in the Tower, the papists cast him out into the fields, commanding that no man should bury him, according as their devout manner is to do with all such as die in like sort, whom they ac|count as profane, and worthy of no burial, but to be cast to dogs and birds. And yet notwithstand|ing this their merciless commandment, some good Tobits there were who buried him in the evening, as commonly they did all the rest thrown out in like manner, whom they were wont privily by night to cover, and many times the archers in the fields standing by, and singing psalms together at their their burial.

IN the same month of December, James Gore also died in prison at Colchester, laid there in bonds for the truth of God's word.

END OF VOLUME THE FIRST.

Notes

• * 10.1

  Lest some of our Readers should imagine it unnecessary for us to give these important Disputations at full length, we beg leave to observe, that in a Work like this, which promises a full and circumstantial Account of all the Proceedings against PROTESTANTS and other MARTYRS, it is highly necessary to point out those remarkable Transactions, during the Reign of QUEEN MARY, previous to their Sufferings, which served only to blind the Eyes of the ignorant, and pave the Way for those horrid Specimens of Cruelty, which will be so abundantly displayed in the following Sheets. But indeed the discerning Public will readily perceive, that, however unentertaining or uninteresting this Argumentation may appear at first, yet, on due consideration, inasmuch as it leads to matters of the greatest Importance and Concern, it is absolutely requisite, in order to render this New Edition of FOX'S ORIGINAL BOOK OF MARTYRS, the only Comple and Authentic Work of the Kind now extant.
• * 11.1

  Duke of Northumberland.
• * 11.2

  Duke of Suffolk.
• * 11.3

  Charles V. Emperor of Germany.
• * 11.4

  Being daughter of Henry VIII. and Katharine of Spain.
• * 11.5

  Of England.