THE HISTORY
OF THE
WORTHY MARTYR OF GOD,
JOHN LAMBERT,
OTHERWISE NAMED NICHOLSON

            With his Troubles, Examinations, and Answers, before the Archbishop Warham, and other Bishops; and also before King Henry 8:

IMMEDIATELY upon the destruction of the monas­teries, in the month of November, 1538, followed the trouble of John Lambert. He was born and brought up in Norfolk, and studied in the university of Cambridge. Where, after he had sufficiently profited both in Latin and Greek, being forced by the violence of the time, he departed beyond the seas, to Tyndale and Frith, and there remained a year, preacher to the English-house at Antwerp, till he was disturbed by Sir Thomas More; and by the accusation of one Barlow, was carried from Antwerp to London; where he was brought to examina­tion first at Lambeth, then at the bishop's house at Ox­ford, before Warham, archbishop of Canterbury, and others; having 45 articles ministered against him. Tlis answers to these were delivered to Dr. Warham, arch­bishop of Canterbury, about the year 1532, while he was in custody in the archbishop's house at Oxford. But the Providence of God wrought so for Lambert, that within a short space after archbishop Warham died, and he for that time was delivered. After the death of William Warham, succeeded Dr. Cranmer. Lambert, in the mean

season, returned to London, and there exercised himself in teaching children the Greek and Latin tongue; and continued in this vocation some time, with great com­mendation.

            In the year 1538, he was present at a sermon, in St. Peter's church, at London. He that preached was Dr. Taylor, a man in those days not far disagreeing from the gospel. In the time of King Edward, he was made bishop of Lincoln; and in the time of Queen Mary deprived of his bishoprick, and ended his life among the confessors of CHRIST. When the sermon was done, Lambert went to the preacher, and uttered divers arguments wherein he desired to be satisfied concerning the sacrament. Dr. Taylor, excusing himself for the present, on account of other business, willed him to write his mind, and come again some other time.

            Within a while, after he had written his mind, he came again to him. His arguments were ten, proving the truth, partly by the Scriptures, partly by. reason, and by the determination of the doctors. Dr. Taylor upon this, conferred with Dr. Barns, who, though he otherwise favored thee gospel, yet he seemed not to favor this cause: but persuaded him to lay the matter before Thomas Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury. He did so; and Lambert was sent for by the archbishop, and brought into court, and forced to defend his cause openly, (for the archbishop had not yet favored the doctrine of the sacrament, whereof afterward he was an earnest pro­fessor.) In that dispute, Lambert appealed from the bishops to the king.

            The king immediately sent out a general commission, commanding all the nobles and bishops to come to London, to assist the king against heresies, which the king himself would sit in judgment upon. A day was fixed, and a great assembly of the nobles was gathered

from all parts of the realm, not without much wonder and expectation in this so strange a case. All the seats and places in the assembly-room were full of men round about the scaffold. Then John Lambert was brought from prison, with a guard of armed men, and placed right

over the king's seat. At last the king himself came, as judge of that controversy, with a great guard, clothed all in white. The bishops sat on his right hand, and behind him the lawyers, clothed all in purple, according to custom. On the left hand sat the peers of the realm, and other nobles in their order. Mean time the king's look, and his brows bent, plainly declared a mind full of in­dignation, far unworthy such a prince, especially in such a matter, and against so humble and obedient a subject.

            When the king was set on his throne, he beheld Lam­bert with a stern countenance, and then turning to his counsellors, he called forth Dr. Day, bishop of Chichester, to declare the causes of the present assembly. The whole scope of his oration was, That the king would have no man think, that because the authority of the bishop of Rome was abolished, he would therefore extinguish all religion, or give liberty to heretics to trouble the churches of England, whereof he was the head; or, that they were assembled to make any dispute upon the heretical doc­trine; but only for this person, that the heresies of this man present, and of all such like, should be openly con­demned. When he had made an end, the king stood up, and leaning himself upon a cushion, turned toward Lam­bert, with his brows bent, and said, "Ho, good fellow, what is thy name?" Then he, humbly kneeling down upon his knee, said, " My name is John Nicholson, though of many I am called Lambert." " What (said the king,) have you two names? 1 would not trust you, having two names, although you were my brother, Lambert replied, " Most noble prince, your bishops

forced me to change my name." Then, after much talk, the king commanded him to go to the matter, and to declare his opinion, as to the sacrament of the altar. Lambert, beginning to speak for himself, gave God thanks, who had so inclined the heart of the king, that he himself would not disdain to hear and understand the controversies of religion. Then the king, interrupting him, said, with an angry voice, " I came not hither to hear mine own praises. Go briefly to the matter, without any more circumstance." Lambert, being abashed at the king's angry words, paused a while to consider which way to turn himself in these extremities. But the king, with anger and vehemency, said, " Why stand you still? Touching the sacrament of the altar, sayest you it is the body of CHRIST, or wilt you deny it?" And with that word the king lifted up his cap. Lambert an­swered, " I say, with St. Augustine, that it is the body of CHRIST after some manner." " Answer me, (says the king,) neither out of St. Augustine, neither by the au­thority of any other, but tell me plainly, whether thou sayest it is the body of CHRIST or no?' (speaking Latin.) Lambert said, "         Then I deny it to be the body of CHRIST." The king replied, " Mark well, for now you shall be condemned by CHRIST's own words, Hoc est corpus nteuin."  Then he commanded Cranmer to refute his assertion who began to dispute very modestly, saying, " Brother Lambert, if I prove your argument to be false by Scrip­ture, you will willingly revoke it; but if you shall prove it true by manifest testimonies of Scripture, I will wil­lingly embrace it." The argument was this, CHRIST ap­peared unto St. Paul by the way: therefore it is not disagreeable to the word of GOD, that the body of CHRIST may be in two places at once, which being in heaven, was seen by St. Paul at the same time upon earth; and if it

may be in two places, by the like reason may it not he in many places?

            Lambert answered in such a manner, that the king seemed greatly moved, the bishop himself entangled, and all the audience amazed. Then the bishop of Winchester, who had the sixth place in the dispute, fearing lest the argument should be taken out of his mouth, without the king's commandment, and observing no order, before the archbishop had ended, alleged a place out of the 12th chapter of the Corinthians, where St. Paul says, « Have I not seen JESUS?" And again in the 15th chapter, " He appeared unto Cephas; and afterwards unto James, then to all the apostles; but last of all he appeared unto me as one born out of due time." Lambert answered, I-Ie did nothing doubt but that CHRIST was seen, and did appear; but he denied that he was in two or divers places, as to his body.

            Next to the bishop of Winchester, bishop Tonstal took his course; and after a long preface, wherein he spoke much of God's omnipotence, he came at last to the point, saying, If CHRIST could perform what he spoke, touching the converting of his body into bread, without doubt he would speak nothing but what he would perform. Lam­bert answered, That there was no place of Scripture, wherein CHRIST says, that he would change the bread into his body; and moreover, that there is no necessity why he should. But this is a figurative speech every where used in Scripture, when the name of the thing signified is attributed to the sign. By which figure of speech circumcision is called the covenant; the lamb, the pass­over.

            Next stepped forth Stokesley, bishop of London: It is nothing dissonant from nature (said lie,) for the sub­stance of like things to be changed one into another; so that nevertheless the accidents remain. Then he illus­trated it by the example of water boiling so long till all the substance thereof be evaporated. Now (said he,) a substance cannot be changed but into a substance wherefore we do affirm the substance of the water to pass into the substance of the air; notwithstanding the quality of the water, which is moistness, reinaineth after the substance is changed. When this argument was heard, the bishops greatly rejoiced, assuring themselves of a certain victory. Here all men earnestly expected Lam­bert's answer. As soon as he had liberty to speak, he first of all denied that the moisture of the water did remain after the substance was altered. For although (says he,) we grant the air to be naturally moist, yet it has one degree of moisture, and the water another. Wherefore, when the water is converted into air, though there remaineth moisture, it is not the moisture of water, but the proper moisture of the air.

            Then the king and the bishops raged against Lambert, insomuch that he was forced to keep silence. After this the other bishops, every one in his turn, took their places of disputation. But their arguments were all but common reasons, and had little in them worthy to be' heard or read. Lambert, in the mean time, being wearied with long standing, having stood no less than five hours, from twelve o'clock till five at night, and seeing no hope of success in speaking, chose rather to hold his peace.

            At last, when torches began to be lighted, the king said to Lambert, 11 What sayest you now, after all these reasons and instructions of these learned men? Art you not yet satisfied? Wilt you live or die? What sayest thou? You have yet free choice." Lambert answered, ~~ I yield myself wholly to the will of your majesty."  Then (said the king,) commit thyself unto the hands of GOD, and’not unto mine." Lambert replied, “I commend my soul unto the hands of GOD, but my body I wholly yield to your clemency." Then said the king,

If you commit yourself to my judgment, you must die, for I will not be the patron of heretics." And turning himself unto Cromwel, he said, `1 Cromwel, read the sentence of condemnation against him." This un­doubtedly was the subtilty of the bishop of Winchester, who rather desired that the sentence might be read by Cromwel, than any other; so that if he refused to do it, he should have incurred the like danger. Cromwel, at the king's commandment, taking the schedule of con­demnation, read it. Thus was John Lambert condemned to death by the king; whose judgment now remaineth with the Lord against that day, when both princes and subjects shall appear before the tribunal seat of that great Judge, not to judge, but to be judged according to their works.

            Upon the day that was appointed for him to suffer, he was brought out of the prison at eight o'clock in the morning, unto the house of the lord Cromwel, and car­ried into his inward chamber, where, it is reported, Cromwel asked him forgiveness. There, at the last, being admonished that the hour of his death was at hand, he was greatly comforted, and being brought out of the chamber into the hall, he saluted the gentlemen, and sat down to breakfast with them, showing no manner of sadness or fear. When breakfast was ended, he was carried straitway to the place of execution; where, after his legs were consumed, and the tormentors had with­drawn the fire from him, so that but a small fire and coals were left under hint, two that stood on each side of him, with their halberds pitched him upon their pikes, a5 far as the chain would reach. Then he, lifting up such hands as he had, cried unto the people, " None but CHRIST; none but CHRIST:" and so being let down again front their halberds, fell into the fire and ended his life.

            About this time N. PEKE was burnt at Ipswich. It is recorded of him, that when he was so scorched that he was as black as soot, one Dr. Reading standing before him, having a wand in his hand, struck him on the right shoulder, and said, " Peke, recant, and believe that the sacrament of the altar is the very body of CHRIST; and here have I to absolve thee from thy misbelief that has been in thee," skewing a scroll of paper in his hand. When he had spoken these words, Peke answered, " I defy it and thee also," and with great violence he spit from him very blood, which came from him by reason that his veins brake in his body through extreme anguish. And when Peke had so spoken, Dr. Reading said, " My lord bishop of Norwich grants forty days pardon to as many as shall cast a stick to the burning of this heretic." Then baron Curson, Sir John Audley, knight, with many others of estimation, being there present, rose from their seats, and with their swords cut down boughs, and threw them into the fire, and so did all the people.

THE

LIFE AND DEATH

OF

THOMAS CROMWEL,

EARL OF ESSEX.

            THOMAS CROMWEL was born at Putney, being a smith's son, whose mother was married afterwards to a sheerman. Such was the activity and ripeness of nature in him, so discreet was he in judgment, in tongue so eloquent, that being conversant in the sight of men, he could not be long unespied. Neither was his capacity so good, but his memory was as great in retaining whatsoever he had attained. Which well appeareth in his learning the whole New Testament of Erasmus's translation without book, in his journey to and from Rome.

            In his growing years he bad a great desire to see tine world abroad, and to learn experience; whereby he learned such languages as might better serve for his use hereafter. Being at Antwerp, he was there retained of the English merchants to be their clerk or secretary. All this while, he had no taste nor judgment of religion, but was wild and youthful, without regard of God and his word, as he himself was wont oftimes to declare unto Cranmer, showing what a ruffian he was in his young days, and how he was in the wars of the duke of Bourbon, at the siege of Rome, and so continued, till by learning the New Testament without book, in his going and coming from Rome, he began to be touched and called to a better understanding.

            Mean time cardinal Wolsey began to bear a great sway in England, so that all men sought unto him. To his service was Cromwel advanced, where he continued, growing up in authority, till at length be was preferred to be solicitor to the cardinal. There was about the same time, in the household of the cardinal, Thomas More, afterwards chancellor of England, and Stephen Gardiner, afterwards bishop of Winchester. These three were all of one standing; whose ages, as they were not much unequal, so neither was their fortune and advance­ments. And though, peradventure, in More and Gar­diner- there was more learning, yet there was in this man a more prompt and perfect judgment, equal eloquence, and a more heroical and princely disposition, born to greater affairs in the commonwealth. The cardinal had then in hand the building -of his college in Oxford, by reason whereof certain small monasteries and priories, in divers places, were suppressed, and the lands seized to the cardinal's hands. The doing whereof was committed to the charge of Thomas Cromwel. And thus was he first set by the cardinal to suppress religious houses, about the year 1525.

            It was not long before the cardinal who had gotten up so high, began to come down as fast. So that his house­ hold being dissolved, Thomas Cromwel, among others, labored to be retained in the king's service. There was, at the same time, one Sir CHRISTopher Hales, knight, master of the rolls, who, notwithstanding he was then a mighty papist; yet bare such favor to Croinwel, that he commended him to the king, who was willing to talk with him, to hear and know what he could say.

            Cromwel soon understood that the king would talk with him, and therefore providing before hand, had in readiness the copy of the bishops' oath, which they use commonly to make to the pope at their consecration; and so being called for, was brought to the king in his garden at Westminster, which was about the year 153O. Cromwel, after loyal obeisance, according as he was de­manded, made his declaration in all points; especially making manifest unto his highness, how his princely authority was abused within his own realm by the pope and his clergy, who being sworn unto him, were after­ward dispensed from the same, and sworn anew unto the pope; which (lie said,) was derogatory to his crown, and prejudicial to the common laws of the realm. Declaring thereupon, how his majesty might accumulate to himself great riches, if it so pleased him to take the occasion now offered. The king, giving good ear to this, inquired if he could avouch that which he spoke. He said, " He could avouch all this to be certain, for he had the copy of their oath to the pope to show;" and therewith showed the king the bishops' oath. The king took his ring off his finger, and first admitting him into his service, sent him therewith to the Convocation-house among the bishops. Cromwel coming with the king's signet, and placing him­self among the bishops, began to make his oration, de­claring the authority of the king, and the office of his subjects, and especially the obedience of bishops and churchmen under public laws, necessarily provided for the profit and quiet of the commonwealth. Which laws, notwithstanding, they had all transgressed, falling in the law of praemunire, in that they had all sworn to the pope, contrary to the fealty of their sovereign lord the king, and therefore had forfeited to the king all their goods, chattels, lands, possessions, and whatsoever livings they had. The bishops hearing this were not a little amazed, and first began to deny the fact. But after Cromwel had chewed them the very copy of their oath made to the pope at their consecration, they began to shrink and fall to intreaty, desiring respite to pause upon the matter. Notwithstanding, to be quit of that premunire, it cost them to the king for both the provinces, Canterbury and York, no less than 118, 84Ol.

            After this, Thomas Cromwel growing in favor with the king, was knighted, and made master of the king's jewel-house, and shortly after was’admitted into the king's council, which was about the coming in of Queen Anne Bullen. And within two years after that he was

made master of the rolls, Dr. Taylor being discharged. In the year 1527, a little before the birth of King Edward, he was made knight of the garter, and not long after ad­vanced to the earldom of Essex, and made great cham­berlain of England. Over and above all which honors, he was also vicegerent to the king, representing his person. Which office, although it standeth well by the law, yet seldom has there been seen any besides this Cromwel alone, either to have sustained it, or else to have so furnished the same with counsel and wisdom, as Cromwel did.

After the bishop of Rome's authority was banished out of England, the bishops of this sect never ceased to seek all occasions either to restore his power, or at least to keep upright those things which remained; wherein although their labors were not altogether frustrate, yet had they brought much more to pass, if Cromwel, (as a mighty wall and defense of the church,) had not resisted continually their enterprises.

How studious Cromwel was in the cause of CHRIST's religion, examples need not be brought. His whole life was nothing else but a continual care and travel to advane and further the right knowledge of the gospel. He first caused the people to be instructed in the Lord's prayer and creed in English. Then he procured the Scripture to be set forth in the same language, for every Englishman to understand: after that, to rescue the vulgar from damnable idolatry, he caused certain of the grossest pilgrimages to be destroyed. And further, for the commodity of the poor sort, which get their living with their daily labor, he provided that idle holidays should be diminished. Also, he procured for them liberty to eat eggs and white meat in Lent, Furthermore, it was by him provided, for the better instruction of the people, that beneficed men should be resident in their cures and parishes, there to teach and keep hospitality, with many other things most usefully redressed for the reformation of religion. To adjoin his private benefits, in helping men and women at sundry times out of troubles, it would require a long discourse. Briefly, his whole life was full of such examples, being a man to that intent ordained of God to do many men good, and especially such as were in danger of persecution for re­ligion's sake. Amongst other infinite stories, one or two examples shall suffice for a testimony of his worthy doings.

            In the year 1538, Sir William Forman being mayor of London, three weeks before Easter, the wife of one Thomas Frebarne, dwelling in Paternoster Row, being with. child, longed after a morsel of a pig, and told her mind to a maid, dwelling in Abchurch Lane, desiring her, if it were possible, to help her to a piece. The maid perceiving her earnest desire, told the husband what his wife had said to her, adding, that it might cost her her life, and the child's too of which she was pregnant, if she had it not. Upon this, Frebarne spoke to one good-wife Fisher, to help him to a pig for his wife, for she was with child, and longed sore to eat of a pig. Fisher promised that she would bring him One the Friday following, and so she did, being ready dressed. When she had delivered the pig, she conveyed one of the pig's feet to Dr. Cox, dean of Canterbury, dwelling in Ivy Lane, who was at that time at his dinner. One of his guests, called Mr. Garter, being landlord to Frebarne, sent his man to him to inquire if there were no body sick in his house. Unto whom he answered, that they were all in good health, he gave God thanks. The servant said again, it was told my master, that some body was sick, or else you would not eat flesh in Lent.

            Frebarne answered, that his wife was with child, and longed for a piece of pig, and if he could get some for her he would. Then the servant went home.  Shortly after, Frebarne's landlord sent for him. But first sent for the bishop of London's summer. When Frebarne was come, he asked him, if he had not a pig in his house, which he denied not. Then Mr. Garter com­manded the summer to take the pig, and carry both that

and Frebarne to his master, and so he did. The bishop being in his chamber with divers others of the clergy, called Frebarne before him, and examined him concerning this pig, charging him also, that he had eaten calves' heads that Lent. " My lord," says he, "if the heads were eaten in my house, in whose houses were the bodies eaten P But if any one can prove, that either I, or anv in my house have done as your lordship says, let me suffer death therefore." " You art no Christian," says the bishop. " My lord," said Frebarne, " I trust I am a true Christian, and have done nothing against God's law or my prince's." After this, the bishop called the sumner, and commanded him to go and carry Thomas Frebarne and his pig openly through the streets into the Old Bailey, to Sir Roger Cholmley; for the bishop said, "He had nothing to do to punish him; that belonged unto the civil magistrates;" and so Frebarne was carried with the pig before him, to Sir Roger Cholmley's house in the Old Bailey, and he being not at home, was brought back again to the bishop's palace with the pig, and there lay - in the porter's-lodge till nine at night. Then the bishop sent him to the compter in the Poultry.

            The next day, being Saturday, he was brought before the mayor of London and his brethren unto the Guild­hall; but before his coming, they had the pig delivered to them by the bishop's officer. Then the mayor said, that the Monday following he should stand on the pillory in Cheapside, with the one half of the pig on the one shoulder, and the ot:.er half on the other. Then Fre­barne's wife desired that she might stand there, and not he, for the fault was hers and not his. After this they took a satin-list, and tied it fast about the pig's neck, and made Frebarne carry it hanging on his shoulder till he came unto the compter.

            After this was done, his wife took with her the wife of one Michael Lobley, who was well acquainted with several in the lord Cromwel's house, unto whom the said woman resorted, and desired them to speak to their lord. The same time came in Dr. Barnes, who understanding the matter by Lobley's wife, went up to the lord Cromwel, and certified him thereof, who sent for the mayor of London. The Monday following the mayor sent for the prisoner, and demanded sureties for his forth-coming but for lack of sureties, upon his own bond, which was a recognizance of twenty pounds, he was delivered out of their hands.

            About the same time, one Gray, a smith of Bishop's­Stratford, being accused for denying the sacrament of the altar to be our Savior, was sent to London, and there should have been condemned to be burnt, but that by the means of the lord Crornwel, he was freed and sent home again.

            Commonly men advanced from base degree to ample dignities, not only forget themselves what they were, but also cast out of remembrance all their old friends and acquaintance. From which sort of men how far Cromwel differed by divers examples may appear. A certain poor woman some time kept a victualling house about Hounslow, the lord Cromwel owed her an old debt of 4O shillings. It happened that the lord Cromwel with Cran­mer, was riding through Chcapside towards the court, and cast his eye over the way, and there espied this poor

Woman. He straight caused her to be called unto him. Being come he asked, after certain questions, If she were not such a woman, dwelling in such a place: and whether there was riot a reckoning between him and her? She said, That he owed her some money upon an old reckon­ing, whereof she was in great necessity, but never durst ask him for it. Then the lord Cromwel sent the poor woman home to his house with one of his servants, and at his return from the court, he not only discharged the debt, but also gave her a yearly pension of four pounds, while she lived. The like courtesy he showed to a certain Italian. The story, compiled in the Italian tongue Bandello, I here insert, with the whole order and circum­

stances thereof.

            Not many years past, says the author, there was in Florence, a merchant, whose name was Francis, de­scended from the noble family of the Frescobalds. This gentleman was naturally liberal, unto whom also riches increased, so that he grew in great wealth. He traded into many countries, but chiefly into England, where he lived a long time sojourning in London. Francis Fresco­bald being in Florence, a poor young man asking his alms for God's sake, Frescobald, (as he earnestly beheld this ragged strippling, who was not so disguised in his tattered attire, but that his countenance gave signification of much virtue in him,) being moved with pity, de­manded of what country he was? cc I am, sir," quoth he, u of England, and my name is Thomas Cromwel. My father is a poor man, I am strayed from my country, and am now come into Italy with the camp of Frenchmen that were overthrown at Gatilyon." Frescobalda partly considering the state of this young man, and partly for the love he bare the English nation, received him into his house, and when he was minded to return into his country, provided such things as he needed. He gave him both horse and new apparel, and sixteen ducats of gold, to bring him into his country. Cromwel, rendering his hearty thanks, took leave of his host, and returned into England.

            At what time Cromwel was advanced to such dignity, Frescobald was by many misfortunes become very poor. But still there was due to him from certain merchants in England, the sum of 15,OOO ducats. He proposed, if he could recover that money, to trade no longer, but quietly pass over the rest of his days. All things being prepared for his journey, he set c -A for England, and at last arrived at London. He had utterly forgotten what cour­tesy he had long before showed unto Cromwel. But one day, as he was riding towards the court, he chanced to meet lord Cromwel. As soon as the lord Cromwel espied him, suddenly alighting, (to the great admiration of those that were with him,) he embraced the stranger, and with a broken voice, scarce able to refrain tears, he demanded if, he were not Francis Frescobald, the Floren­tine? He answered, " Yes, sir, and your humble ser­vant." " My servant, (quoth Cromwel,) no; you have not been my servant in times past, and I will not now account you other than my special friend." But having now weighty affairs in my prince's cause, you must excuse me, that I can tarry with you no longer. There­fore at. this time I take my leave, but desire that you forget not this day to come to my house to dinner; and then remounting his horse, he passed to the court. Fres­cobald greatly marvelling who this lord should be, at last, after some pause, he knew him to be the same whom he had relieved at Florence, and thereat not a little joyed, especially considering, that by his means, he should better recover his due.

The hour of dinner drawing near, he repaired to the house, where he walked in the court, attending his Folning. The lord Cromwel shortly returned from the court, and no sooner dismounted, but he again embraced this gentleman with so friendly a countenance, that both the lord admiral, and all the other noblemen of the court did not a little marvel thereat.

            When the lord Cromwel perceived this, turning towards them, and holding Fres­cobald fast by the hand, he said, " Do not marvel, my lords, that I seem so glad of this man: that ye may not be ignorant of his courtesy when I greatly needed it, I will tell it you." Then he declared unto them every thing in order, as has been before recited. He then led him by the hand into his house, and coming into the room where the dinner was prepared, he sat down to table, placing his welcome guest next to him.

            The dinner being ended, and the lords departed, Fres­cobald in few words opened his case, telling, that from great wealth he was fallen into poverty; and that his only portion was 15,OOO ducats owing him in England, and 2OOO in Spain. Lord Cromwel taking him by the hand,

led him into his chamber; and after every man was de­parted, he locked the door. Then opening a coffer, he first took out sixteen ducats, and delivering them to Frescobald, he said, " Here, my friend, is your money which you lent me at my departure from Florence; and here are other ten, which you bestowed in my apparel, with ten more that you disbursed for the horse which I rode. But considering you are a merchant, it seems to me not honest to return your money without some con­sideration for the long detaining it, Take therefore these four bags; in every one of them is 4OO ducats; these you shall receive from the hands of your assured friend."

            This done, he caused Frescobald to give him a note of the names of all his debtors, and the sum that every one owed him. This schedule he delivered to one of his servants, unto whom he gave charge to search out those men, if they were within the realm, and straitly to charge

them to pay these sums within fifteen days. During all this time, Frescobald lodged' in the house of the lord Cromwel, who often moved him to abide in England, offering him the Lord of threescore thousand ducats, if he would continue and make his bank in London. But Frescobald, who desired to return into his country, after many thanks departed home, where he lived but a small time, for in the first year after his return he died.

One story more I may not pass over. He coming with other of the lords of the council to the house of Shene, about the examination of certain monks which there denied the king's supremacy; after the examination he chanced to spy afar off a certain poor man, who used to sweep their cells and cloisters, and to ring the bells. Lord Cromwel sent for the poor man to come to him, and before all most lovingly called him by his name, and took him by the hand, and asked him how he did, with many other good words; and turning to the lords, " My lords (said he,) see you this poor man? This man's father has been a great friend to me in my necessity, and has given me many a meal's meat." Then said he to the poor man, " Come unto me, and I will provide for thee, and you shall not lack so long as I live."

            In this worthy person, besides divers other eminent virtues, three things especially are to be considered, to wit, authority, wisdom, and zeal. First, as to his fervent zeal in setting forward the sincerity of Christian faith, more cannot almost be wished in a nobleman, and scarce the like has been seen in any. Secondly, his wisdom, Joined with his Christian zeal, brought great things to pass. But especially his working was to nourish peace ­with foreign realms, with the emperor, the French king, the king of Scots, and also with the pope; in all whose courts he had such spies, that there was nothing done, whereof he had not intelligence. So that during all the time of Cromwel's prosperity, the king never had wars

with any foreign nation; notwithstanding both the pope, the emperor, the kings of France and Scotland, were mightily incensed against him. And as his policy was ever circumspect abroad, to stay the realm from foreign wars, so his authority was no less occupied in keeping good order and rule at home: first, in hampering the popish prelates, and disappointing their devices; secondly, in bridling and keeping other unruly subjects in subjec­tion; whereby, as he was a succor and refuge to all godly persons, so was he a terror to the evil doers; so that not the presence of him only, but even the hearing of the coming of Cromwel put an end to many frays and riots.

            Long it were to recite what innumerable benefits this worthy counsellor, by his prudent policy, his grave au­thority, and perfect zeal, wrought and brought to pass in the realm; and especially in the church of England, what good orders he established, what wickedness and vices he suppressed, what corruptions he reformed, what abuses he brought to light; what crafty jugglings, what idolatrous deceptions, and superstitious delusions he detected and abolished out of the church.

            While the lord Cromwel was thus blessedly occupied in profiting the commonwealth, and purging the church, it happened to him, as it does to all men, that where true piety is, there persecution follows. The principal enemy against him was Stephen Gardiner; who disdaining and envying the state of lord Cromwel, and now taking occa­sion by the marriage of lady Anne, of Cleve, being a stranger, put in the king's ears what a thing it were to the quiet of the realm, and establishment to the king's succession, to have an English queen. And the king's affection, the more it was diminished from Anne, of Cleve, the less favor he bare unto Cromwel.

            The year following, which was 1541, in the month of April, a parliament was held, which, after divers proro­gations, was continued till the month of July; in which month the lord Cromwel being in the council-chamber; was suddenly apprehended, and committed to the Tower of London. Whereat as many good men lamented, so more there were that rejoiced, especially of the clergy, such as had been in some dignity before in the church, and now by his means were put from it. These hated him much, which was the cause of shortening his days; so that on the 19th day of the same month he was attainted by parliament. In the attainder sundry crimes were brought against himn, but chiefly he was accused of heresy, for that he was a supporter of heretics: also that he dispersed abroad great numbers of books containing manifest heresies. Lastly, that he caused to be translated into English, books comprising matter expressly against the sacrament of the altar.

            In the mean season, however the case of the lord Cromwel stood, this is certain, that Stephen Gardiner wanted not a n head to watch the time, when the king was disposed to marry Katherine Howard, which, during the life of Cromwel, could not so well be brought to pass. So long as he went with full sail of fortune, how mode­rately he ever carried himself has been declared before. So now lord Cromwel, always one man, being overblown by the contrary wind of adversity, received the same with no less constancy, neither yet was he so unprovided of counsel and forecast, but that he foresaw this tempest long before it fell, and also prepared for the same. Two years before, fearing what might happen, he called his servants to him, and showing them in what a slippery state he stood, he required them to look diligently to their doings, lest any occasion might rise against him through their default. And further, before the time of his ap­prehension, he took such order for his servants, that

many of them, especially the younger brethren, who had little else to take to, had somewhat handsome left for them in their friends' hands to relieve them, whatsoever should befal him. Briefly, such a loving and kind master he was to his servants, that he pro­vided beforehand for them all; insomuch that he gave twenty pounds apiece to twelve children, which were his musicians, and so committed them to their friends.

            When he was in the tower, it is worth noting how quietly he bore it; how gravely and discreetly he an­swered and entertained the commissioners that were sent to him; they could put nothing to him, either concerning matters ecclesiastical or temporal, wherein he was not more furnished in every condition than they themselves. Amongst those commissioners there was. one whom the lord Cromwel desired to carry a letter to the king from him, which when he refused, saying, "He would carry no letters from a traitor:" the lord Cromwel desired him at least to do a message to the king from him. He pro­mised that he would, so it were not against his allegiance. Then the lord Cromwel, taking witness of the other lords what he had promised, " You shall commend me (said he,) to the king, and tell him, when he has thoroughly proved you, as I have done, he will find you as false a man as ever came about him."

            However, he wrote a letter from the tower to the king, and when none durst carry it, Sir Ralph Sadler went to the king, to know whether he would permit him to bring the letter; which when the king had granted, Sir Ralph presented the letter to him. He commanded it to be­read to him thrice, he seemed to be so much moved therewith. Notwithstanding, by reason of the act of parliament, the lord Cromwel, oppressed by his enemies, and condemned without hearing, on the 28th day of July, was brought to the scaffold on Tower-Hill, where he said these words following:

            " I am come hither to die, and not to purge myself, as some peradventure think I will. For if I should do so, I were a very wretch. I am by the law condemned to die, and I thank my Lord GOD, that has appointed me this death for mine offence. For since the time that I have had years of discretion, I have lived a sinner, and of­fended my Lord GOD, for which I heartily ask him for­giveness. And it is not unknown to many of you, that I have been a great traveler in this world, and being but of a base degree, was called to a high estate,, and since the time I came thereunto, I have offended my prince, for the which I heartily ask him forgiveness, and beseech you all to pray to God with me, that he will forgive me. And

now I pray you that be here, to bear me record, I die in the catholic faith, not doubting in any article of my faith, no nor doubting in any sacrament of the church. Many have slandered me, and reported that I have been a bearer of such as have maintained evil opinions, which is untrue. But I confess, that like as God by his Holy Spirit does instruct us in the truth, so the devil is ready to seduce us, and I have been seduced; but bear me witness, that I die in the catholic with of the holy church: and I heartily desire you to pray for the king's grace, that he may long live with you in health and pros­perity; and that after him, his son, Prince Edward, may long reign over you. And once again I desire you to pray for me, that so long as life reinaineth in this flesh I waver nothing in my faith." Then making his prayer, kneeling on his knees, he spoke these words

" O Lord JESUS, who art the only health of all men living, and the everlasting life of them which die in thee; I, wretched sinner, submit myself wholly unto thy blessed will, and being sure that the thing cannot perish which is committed unto thy mercy, I now willingly leave this frail and wicked flesh, in sure hope that you wilt in better wise restore it to me again at the last, in the re­surrection of the just. I beseech thee, most merciful Lord JESUS CHRIST, that you wilt by thy grace strengthen my soul against all temptations, and defend me with the buckler of thy mercy against all the assaults of the devil. I see and acknowledge that there is in myself no good hope of salvation, but all my confidence, hope, and trust is in thy most merciful goodness. I have no merits nor good works which I may allege before thee. Of sins and evil works (alas,) I see a great heap; but yet through thy mercy I trust to be in the number of them to whom you wilt not impute their sins; but wilt take and accept me for righteous and just, and to be the inheritor of everlasting life. You, merciful Lord, vast born for my sake; you didst suffer both hunger and thirst for my sake; you didst teach, pray, and fast for my sake;. all thy holy works you wroughtest for my sake; thou sufferedst most grievous pains and torments for my sake. Finally, you gayest thy most precious body and blood to be shed on the cross for my sake. Now, most merciful Savior, who have given thyself also for me, let all these things profit me. Let thy blood cleanse and wash away the spots of my sins. Let thy righteousness hide and cover my unrighteousness. Let the merits of thy passion and blood shedding be satisfaction for my sins. Give me, Lord, thy grace, that the faith of my salvation in thy blood waver not in me, but may ever be firm and constant. That the hope of thy mercy and life everlasting never decay in me; that love wax not cold in me. Finally, that the weakness of my flesh be not overcome with the fear of death. Grant me, merciful Savior, that when death has shut the eyes of my body, yet the eyes of my soul may still behold and look upon thee; and when death has taken away the use of my tongue, yet my heart may cry, and say unto thee, I Lord, into thy hands I commend my soul, Lord JESUS receive my spirit!' Amen."

            After he had prayed thus, and lovingly exhorted them that were about him on the scaffold, he quietly com­mitted his soul into the hands of GOD, and so patiently suffered the stroke of the axe.

THE HISTORY

OF

ROBERT BARNES, THOMAS GARRET, AND
WILLIAM JEROME.

            WHEN the valiant standard-bearer of the Church of England, Thomas Cromwel, was made away, lamentable it is to behold what miserable slaughter of good men ensued. For the bishop of Winchester having now gotten his full purpose, lest by delays he might lose the occa­sion, he straightways made his first assaults upon Robert Barnes, Thomas Garret, and William Jerome, whom, within two days after Cromwel's death, he caused to be put to execution.

            Dr. Barnes, after he came from the University of Louvain, went to Cambridge, where he was made prior of the house of the Augustines. At that time the knowledge of good letters was scarcely entered into the University, all things being full of rudeness and barbarity, saving in very few. Whereupon Barnes began in his house to read Terence and Cicero, so that, what with his industry, pains, and labor, and with the help of Thomas Parnel, his scholar, whom he brought from Louvain with him, he -caused the house shortly to flourish with good letters. After these foundations laid, he read openly Paul's epistles, and turned their fruitless disputations to better matter of the holy Scripture, and thereby in short space he made divers good divines. The same order of disputation which he kept in his house, he observed likewise in the University,­ when he disputed with any man in the common schools.

            And the first man that answered Dr. Barnes in the Scrip­tures was Mr. Stafford, which disputation was marvelous in the sight of the great doctors, and joyful to the godly thus Barnes, with his reading, disputation, and preach­ing, became famous and mighty in the Scriptures; and yet he did not see his inward and outward idolatry, till Mr. Bilney converted him wholly to CHRIST.

            The first sermon that ever he preached according to ­the truth, was the Sunday before CHRISTmas-day, at St. Edward's church, belonging to Trinity-Hall, on the epistle of the Sunday; and for that sermon he was ac­cused of heresy, by two fellows of King's-Hall. Then the godly of divers colleges showed themselves, and flocked together in open sight, both in the schools and at sermons, and at the other disputations conferred con­tinually together. The house they resorted to was the White Horse, which was chosen because many of them of St. John's-College and Queen's-College came in on the back-side. At this time much trouble began to ensue. The adversaries of Dr. Barnes accused him in the Regent­House, before the vice-chancellor, where his articles were presented with him and received, he promising to make answer at the next convocation. This tragedy continued in Cambridge, one preaching against another, till within six days of Shrovetide. Then a sergeant at arms was sent down to Cambridge, who suddenly arrested Dr. Barnes in the convocation-house, to make all others afraid; and they had privily determined to make search for Luther's books,. and all the German works. But they were conveyed away by the time that the sergeant at arms, the vice-chancellor, and the proctors were at every man's chamber, going directly to the place where the books lay, (whereby it was perceived that there were Some spies among that small company.) The sergeant,carried Dr. Barnes with him the next day, which was the Tuesday before Shrove-Sunday, and came on the Wed­nesday to London. In the morning he was carried to cardinal Wolsey, but could not speak with him till night. Then said the cardinal to the company present, " Is this Dr.. Barnes, that is accused of heresy?" They answered, " Yea, and please your grace, and we trust you shall find him reformable, for he is both well learned and wise."

            " What, Mr. Doctor, (said the cardinal,) had you not a sufficient scope to teach the people, but my golden shoes, my cushions, my crosses did offend you?" He answered, " I spoke nothing but the truth out of the Scriptures." And then he delivered him six written sheets of paper. He received them smiling, and said, sc We perceive then that you intend to stand to your articles." "Yes, (said Barnes,) that I do, by God's grace, with your lordship's favor." He answered, " Such as you are bear us little favor. I will ask you a question,, Do you think it more necessary that I should have all this royalty, because I represent the king's person, or to sell all these things, and give it to the poor?" He answered, 411 think it necessary to be sold and given to the poor." Then answered he, " Lo, Mr. Doctors, here is the wise man you told me of." Then they kneeled down, and said, " We desire your grace to be good unto him, for he will be reformable." Then said he, " Stand up; for your sakes and the University, we will be good unto him. How say you doctor, do you not know that I can dis­pense in all matters within this realm, as much as the pope?" He said, " I know it." " Will you then be ruled by us,' and we will do all things for your honor, and for the honor of the University?" He answered,

            “I thank your grace for your good will: I will stick to the holy Scripture, according to the simple talent that God has lent me." " Well, (said he,) you shall have thy learning tried to the uttermost, and you shall have the law." And he must directly have gone to the tower, but that Gardiner and Fox became his sureties that night, and so he came home to Mr. Parnel's house again, where he immediately fell to writing again, and slept not. In the morning he was committed to the sergeant of arms to bring him into the chapter-house at Westminster, before the bishops and the abbot of Westminster. They asked the sergeant of arms what was his errand. He said he had brought one Dr. Barnes to be examined of heresy. After a little talk, they swore him, and laid his articles to him. He answered them as he did the cardinal before. Then they asked him, whether he would subscribe to his articles, or not, and he subscribed willingly: after that, they committed him and young Mr. Parnel to the Fleet, where they remained till Saturday morning; and the warden of the Fleet was commanded that no man should speak with him.

            On Saturday he came again into the chapter-house, and remained there till five at night. After long dispu­tations, threatenings, and scornings, they called him, to know whether he would abjure, or burn. He was then in a great agony, and thought rather to burn than abjure. But Gardiner and Fox persuaded him rather to abjure. Upon that, kneeling upon his knees, he consented to abjure. Then they put him to an oath to execute all that they commanded him. The next morning he was brought to St. Paul's church, which was so full that no man could get into it. The cardinal had a scaffold made for himself, with thirty-six abbots, mitred priors and bishops, his chaplains and doctors, in gowns of damask and satin, and he himself in purple. There was a new pulpit erected for the bishop of Rochester to preach against Luther and Dr. Barnes; and great baskets full of books stood before them, which were commanded there to be burnt, and Dr. Barnes, after the sermon, to go thrice about the fire, and to cast in his faggot. This done, the warden of the Fleet and the knight marshal were commanded to have him to the Fleet again, and keep him there till the lord cardinal's pleasure was known.

            After he had continued there half a year, he was com­mitted to be a free prisoner at the Austin Friars, in London. They complained again to the lord cardinal; whereupon he was removed to the Austin Friars of North­ampton, to be burnt. He himself understood nothing of this, but supposed that he should remain there in free prison. At last, one Mr. Horne, who had brought him up, and was his special friend, gave him intelligence of the writ, which would be shortly sent down to burn him. Upon this he privately withdrew: and they were seven days searching for him, but he was conveyed to London in a poor man's apparel. He tarried not there, but -straightway took ship and went to Antwerp, and so to Auther, and there gave himself to study. Here he be­came strong in CHRIST, got favor both with the learned in CHRIST and foreign princes, in Germany, and was great with Luther, Melancthon, Pomeran, Justus Jonas, with the duke of Saxony, and with the king of Denmark, who in the time of More, sent him with the Lubecks, as an ambassador to king Henry 8: He lay with the Lubeck's,chancellor at the Still-yard.

            Sir Thomas More, then chancellor, would fain have entrapped him, but the king would not let him. And there he went, the Lubecks and he disputed with the bishops in defense of the truth, and so he departed again without restraint. After his going again to Wittemberg, he remained there to set forward his works in print; and after a while, he returned in the reign of queen Anne, .and continued a faithful preacher in London all her time.  After that, he was sent ambassador by king Henry 8., to the duke of Cleve, for the marriage of the lady Anne of Cleve, and was well accepted in all his doings, till the time that Stephen Gardiner came out of France. But after he came, neither religion prospered, nor the queen,

nor Cromwel, nor the preachers; who, after the marriage ,,of the lady Cleve, never ceased till he had grafted the .marriage in another stock. For not long after, Dr. Barnes, with his brethren, were apprehended and carried before the king to Hampton-Court; where the king (seeking his safety,) to bring Winchester and him agreed, granted him leave to go home with the bishop to confer with him. But they, not agreeing, Gardiner sought by all means how to entangle them in further danger; which not long after was brought to pass. By complaint made to the king, they were enjoined to preach three sermons the next Easter following at the Spittle; at which sermons Stephen Gardiner was present. Barnes, who preached the first sermon, seeing Gardiner there, humbly desired him, in the face of all the audience, if he forgave him, to hold up his band;. which he did. Yet, notwithstanding, shortly after, by the means of his report, they were sent for to Hampton-Court, and from thence carried to the Tower.

            About the year 1526, Mr. Garret, curate in Honey-lane, London, came to Oxford, and brought with him sundry books in Latin, treating of the Scripture, with Tyndale's first translation of the New Testament in English, which books he sold to divers scholars in Oxford. After he had been there a while, news came that he was searched for through all London, to be apprehended as an heretic, and to be imprisoned for selling heretical books. Mr. Cole, of Magdalen-college, who was well acquainted with Mr. Garret, gave warning to a friend of Mr. Garret's of this search, and willed that he should, as secretly as he could, depart out of Oxford. So the Wednesday before Shrove­tide, Garret departed out of Oxford, in order to go (upon the recommendation of a friend,) to be curate at Stal­bridge, in Dorsetshire. But the Friday next, in the night­time, he came again to one Radley's house, where he lay before; and after midnight he was apprehended there in his bed by the two proctors, and in the morning was deli­vered to Dr. Cottisford, master of Lincoln-college, com­missary of the university, who kept him prisoner in his own chamber. When the commisary, and all his com­pany, were gone to even-song, and had locked him alone in his chamber, he hearing no body stir, put back the lock with his finger, and so came straight to Gloucester college. He there declared to his friend, that after he was -gone a day's journey and a half, he was so fearful, that his heart would no other but that he must needs return to Oxford. But now, with deep sighs and plenty of tears, he prayed his friend to help to convey him away into Wales, and thence he would escape into Germany, if he could. Then, putting on a sleeved coat, he and his friend kneeled down together, and prayed to God with plenty of tears, to conduct and prosper him in his jour­ney, that he might escape his enemies, if it were his good pleasure; and then, embracing each other, he departed.

            But he was soon taken again by Mr. Cole, the proctor, at a place called Hinksey, a little beyond Oxford; and so, being brought back, was committed to ward: that done, he was convened before the commissary, Dr. London, and Dr. Higdon, in St. Mary's church, where they convicted him as an heretic, and afterwards compelled him to carry a faggot in open procession. After that, he was sent to Osney, there to be kept in prison till further order was taken. • After this, Mr. Garret, flying from place to place, escaped their tyranny, until this present time that he was again apprehended with Dr. Barnes, and William Jerome, some time vicar of Stepney.

            William Jerome was a diligent preacher of God's Word. It happened that Jerome, in a sermon preached at Paul's on the fourth Sunday in Lent, 154O, made men­tion of Hagar and Sarah, declaring what these two sig­nified. And he showed further, how that Sarah and her child Isaac, and all they that were Isaac's, and born of the free woman, Sarah, were freely justified: on the con­trary, they that were born of Hagar, the bondwoman, were bound, and under the law, and cannot freely be jus­tified. Not long after, he was convened before the king at Westminster, and there accused for erroneous doc­trine.

                Gardiner, hearing that Barnes, Jerome, and Garret were to preach the Lent following, 1541, at Paul's Cross, to stop the course of their doctrine, sent his chaplain to the bishop of London, the Saturday before the first Sunday in Lent, to have a place for himself to preach at Paul's. It

was appointed that he should preach the Sunday follow­ing, which Sunday was appointed before for Barnes. Dr. Barnes preached the third Sunday after, and sharply refuted all that Gardiner had said. Gardiner immediately went to the king to complain. Whereupon the king. was highly incensed against Barnes, and with many sharp words rebuked his doings in his privy closet. Unto whom, when Barnes submitted himself-" Nay," said the king, "yield thee not to me, I am a mortal man:" and there­with rising up, and turning to the sacrament, and putting off his bonnet, said, " Yonder is the Master of us all, the Author of truth; yield in truth to him, and that truth will I defend; and otherwise yield thee not unto me." There was much ado, and in conclusion, this order was taken, that Barnes should go apart with Winchester to confer together of their doctrine, certain witnesses being appointed to be as indifferent hearers. At their first entry of which talk, Gardiner (forgiving him, he said, all that was past,) offered him the choice, whether he would answer or propose. The question propounded was, Whe­ther a man could do any thing good or acceptable before justification?

            The king, being advertised of the conclusion of this matter between Barnes and Winchester, was content that Barnes should repair to the bishop's house, at London, the Monday following. But within two days after his coming to the bishop's house, he signified unto him, that if he would take him as one that came to confer, he would come still, but else he would come no more.

Dr. Barnes being ordered to preach before the king, preached contrary to that which before he had recanted. The like also did Jerome and Garret after him.

            They were quickly after apprehended and committed to the Tower, where they remained till July 3O, which was two days after the death of the lord Cromwel. Then not coming to any answer, nor knowing any cause of their condemnation, without any public hearing, they were brought together from the mower to Smithfield. Here Dr. Barnes spoke thus: "I am come hither to be burned as an heretic, and you shall hear my belief, whereby you shall perceive what erroneous doctrines I hold. I take God to record, I never (to my knowledge,) taught any erroneous doctrine, but only those things which Scripture led me unto; and that in my sermons, I never maintained any error, neither moved or gave occa­sion of any insurrection.

            " I believe in the holy and blessed Trinity, three Persons and one GOD, that made all the world; and that this blessed Trinity sent down the second Person, JESUS CHRIST, into the womb of the most blessed Virgin Mary. And I believe that his death and passion was the suffi­cient ransom for the sin of all the world. And I be­lieve that through his death, he overcame sin, death, and hell; and that there is none other satisfaction unto the Father, but this his death and passion only; and that no work of man can deserve any thing of GOD, as touch­ing our justification; for I know the best work that ever I did is impure and imperfect."

            And with this he cast abroad his hands, and desired God to forgive him his trespasses. " For although, perchance, (said he,) you know nothing by me, yet I confess that my evil thoughts be innumerable; wherefore I beseech thee, O Lord, not to enter into judgment with me, for if you straitly mark our iniquities, who is able to abide thy judgment?­ Wherefore I trust in no good work that ever I did, but only in the death of CHRIST. I do not doubt but through him to inherit the kingdom of heaven. Take me not here, that I speak against good works, for they are to be

done; and verily they that do them not, shall never come into the kingdom of God. We must do them, because they are commanded us of GOD, but not to merit; for that is only the death of CHRIST. I believe that there is a holy church, a company of all them that do profess CHRIST; and all that have suffered and confessed his name be saints, and that they all praise God in heaven: and I always have spoken reverently, and praised them as much as Scripture willed me to do. And that our Lady was a virgin, immaculate and undefiled." Then said the sheriff, "You have said well of her before." He said, "Mr. Sheriff, if I speak any thing that you will me not, do no more but beckon me with your hand, and I will hold my peace." Then one asked him his opinion of praying to saints? Then said he, "I have said before that they are worthy of all the honor that Scripture willeth them to have. But I say, throughout the Scripture we are not commanded to pray to any saints: whether they pray for us, or not, that I refer to God. And if saints do pray for us, then I trust to pray for you, Mr. Sheriff, within this half hour, and for every Christian man living in the faith of CHRIST. If the dead can pray for the quick, I will surely pray for you."

            Then he spoke to the sheriff, and said, "Have ye any articles against me for the which I am condemned?" The sheriff answered, "No." Then said he, "Is there any man else that knows wherefore I die? Let them now speak, and I will make them answer." And no man answered. Then said he, "Well, I am condemned by the law to die; and as I understand, by an act of parlia­ment; wherefore I cannot tell; but belike for heresy, for we are like to burn. But I pray God to forgive them that have been the occasion of it, as I would be forgiven my­self. And Dr. Stephen, bishop of Winchester, if he have sought or wrought this my death, either by word or deed, I pray God forgive him, and as freely as ever CHRIST for­gave them that put him to death. I beseech you all to pray for the king's grace, as I have done ever since I was in prison, and do now, that God may give him prospe­rity, and that he may long reign among you; and after him, that godly prince Edward may so reign that he may finish those things that his father has begun. I have been reported to be a preacher of sedition and disobe­dience unto the king's majesty; but here I say to you, that you are all bound by the commandment of God to obey your prince with all humility, and with all your heart, and that not only for fear of the sword, but also for conscience sake before God."

            Then spoke he to the sheriff, and said, "Mr. Sheriff, I require you, on God's behalf, to have me commended unto the king's grace, and to skew him that I require of his grace these five requests: first, That when his grace has received into his hands all the goods and substance of the abbeys, it may please his grace to bestow the said goods, or some of them, to the comfort of his poor sub­jects. The second thing I desire of his grace is, that he will see matrimony be had in more reverence than it is; and that men for every light cause cast not off their wives; and that those that be not married should not abominably live in whoredom. The third, That the abo­minable swearers may be punished; for the vengeance of God will cone on them for their mischievous oaths." Then he desired Mr. Pope to have him commended to Mr. Edgar, and to desire him, for the dear blood of JESUS. CHRIST, that he would leave off that abominable swearing which he used; for except he did forsake it, he would come to some mischievous end. The fourth, That his grace would set forth CHRIST's true religion; and seeing he had begun, to go forward and make an end; for many things have been done, but much more is to do. Now, (said he,) how many petitions have I spoken of?" And the people said, " Four." " Well, (said he,) even these four be sufficient; which I desire you the king's grace may be certified of-and say, that I most humbly desire him to look earnestly upon them; and that his grace may take heed that he be not deceived with false preachers."

            Then he desired all men, if he had said any evil at any time unadvisedly, whereby he had offended any man, or given any occasion of evil, that they would forgive it him, and amend that evil they took of him, and to bear witness' that he detested all evil opinions and doctrines against the Word of GOD, and that he died in the faith of JESUS CHRIST, by whom he doubted not but to be saved. With these words he desired them all to pray for him; and then turned about and put off his clothes.

            The like confession made also Jerome and Garret, re­citing all the articles of the Christian faith, briefly declar­ing their minds upon every article; whereby the people might understand that there was no cause nor error in their faith; protesting, moreover, that they denied no­thing that was either in the Old or New Testament set forth by their sovereign lord the king, whom they prayed the Lord long to continue amongst them, with his most dear son, prince Edward. Which done, Jerome added this exhortation: « I say unto you, good brethren, that God has bought us with no small price, neither with gold nor silver, but with his most precious blood. Be not unthankful, therefore, but do as much as to Christian men belongs to fulfill his commandments. If God has sent thee plenty, help thy neigbor that has need; and bear your cross with CHRIST. Consider what reproof, slander, and reproach he suffered, and how patiently he endured all things. Consider that all that CHRIST did was of his mere goodness, and not of our deserving: for if we could merit our own salvation, CHRIST would not have died for us. Now, therefore, let all Christians put no trust in their works, but in the blood of CHRIST; to whom I commit my soul, beseeching you all to pray to God for me, and for my brethren here, that our souls, leaving these wretched carcases, may depart in the true faith of CHRIST."

            Garret ended his protestation as followeth "I also detest and refuse all heresies; and if, either by negli­gence or ignorance, I have taught or maintained any, I am sorry for it, and ask God mercy, or if I have been so rash in preaching, whereby any person has taken offence, or evil opinion, I ask him, and all other persons whom I have any way offended, forgiveness. Notwith­standing, I never preached willingly any thing against God's holy Word, or contrary to the true faith, but have always, according to my little wit, set forth the honor of GOD, and the right obedience to his laws and to the king. And if I could have done better, I would. And I pray God send the king's grace good and godly counsel, to his glory, to the king's honor, and the in­crease of virtue in this his realm. And now I yield my soul up unto Almighty GOD, trusting and believing that he, of his infinite mercy, for his promise made in the blood of his Son, our most merciful Savior, JESUS CHRIST, will take it, and pardon me all my sins, whereby I most grievously from my youth offended his Majesty; where­fore I ask him mercy, desiring you all to pray with me and for me, that I may patiently suffer this pain, and die steadfastly in true faith, hope, and charity." And so, after their prayer made, taking each other by the hands, and kissing one another, they quietly offered themselves to the hands of the tormentors, with such patience as might well testify the goodness of their cause.

THE MARTYRDOM

OF

JOHN PORTER.

            EDMUND BONNER, bishop of London, (in the days of the lord Cromwel,) being then ambassador at Paris, set forward the printing of the Bible in that great volume: promising, moreover, that he would for his part have six of those Bibles set up in the church of St. Paul in London: which, at his coming home, he performed, according to the king's proclamation.

            The Bible’s thus standing in St. Paul's, by the com­mandment-of the king, and the appointment of the bishop, many used to resort to the hearing thereof; especially when they could get any that had an audible voice to read unto them, misdoubting therein no danger; and no more

there was, so long as the days of Cromwel lasted. After he was gone, amongst sundrypersons which frequented the reading of the aforesaid Bible, one John Porter used some­times that godly exercise, to the edifying as well of himself as of others. This Porter was a fresh young man, and, of a big stature; who, by diligent reading of the Scripture, and by hearing of sermons, became very expert. The Bible then being set up on divers pillars in St. Paul's church, fixed unto the same with chains, great multitudes resorted thither to hear this Porter, because he could read well, and had an audible voice. Bonner and his chaplains being grieved, sent for Porter, and rebuked him very sharply for reading. But Porter answered him, " That he had done nothing contrary to the law, neither con­trary to his advertisements, which he had fixed in print over every Bible."

            However, Bonner sent him to Newgate, where he was miserably fettered, both legs and arms, with a collar of iron about his neck fastened to the wall in the dungeon. Being so cruelly handled, he sent for a kinsman of his, who seeing him in this miserable case, entreated Jewet, then keeper of Newgate, that he might be released out of those cruel irons, and so, through friendship and money, had him up among other prisoners, which lay there for felony and murder; where Porter, hearing and seeing their wickedness and blasphemy, exhorted them to amendment of life, and gave them such instructions as he had learned of the Scriptures. For this he was com­plained of, and so carried down and laid in the lowest dungeon of all, oppressed with bolts and irons, where within six or eight days he was found dead.

            The night before he was found dead, they that dwelt hear the place where Porter lay, heard him piteously groan, and make a lamentable noise; where, some sup­pose, that he was put in certain strait irons, called, 27te devil on the neck, being devised, after an horrible sort, to strain and wrench the neck of a man, with his legs toge­ther, in such a manner that the more he stirreth the straiter it presseth him; so that within three or four hours it breaketh and crusheth a Ulan's back and body in pieces.

THE MARTYRDOM

OF

ROBERT TESTWOOD, HENRY FILMER, AND,

ANTHONY PEARSON,

WITH THE

PERSECUTION OF JOHN MARBECK.

            IN the year of our Lord 1544, there was one Robert Testwood, dwelling in the city of London, who for his knowledge in music had so great a name that the musi­cians in Windsor college thought him a very worthy man to have a place among them. Whereupon they informed Dr. Sampson, their dean, and he was soon after removed to Windsor. He was many times troubled here for lean­ing to the new doctrine; as was Henry Filmer, a trades­man of Windsor, and a priest named Anthony Pearson, who, about the year 154O, was greatly esteemed among the people, who flocked so much to his sermons which he made, both in the town and country, that the papists were sorely offended. About a year after, Dr. London, warden of New College in Oxford, was admitted one of the prebendaries of Windsor, who at his coming soon learned what heretics were in the town. On this he con­spired with some others to have all the arch-heretics, as they termed them, in Windsor and thereabout, indicted for heresy. And first they drew out certain notes of Pearson's sermons, which he had preached against the popish mass. That done, they put in sir Philip Hobby with his wife, sir Thomas Cardine, Mr. Edmund Harman, and Mr. Thomas Weldon, as chief aiders, helpers, and maintainers of Anthony Pearson. Also they noted Dr. Haynes, dean of Exeter, and a prebendary of Windsor, as a receiver of suspected persons.

            Then they got privy spies to walk up, and down the church, to hear what men said, and to mark who did not reverence the sacrament at the elevation time, and to bring his name to Dr. London. When they had gathered.as much as they could, Dr. London gave the account to the bishop of Winchester, with a great complaint against the heretics that were in Windsor. Bishop Gardiner, spying a time convenient, went to the king, complaining what a sort of heretics his grace had in his realm, and forthwith procured a commission for a private search to be made in the town of Windsor.

            Mr. Ward and Mr. Fachel of Reading, were appointed commissioners, who came to Windsor the Thursday before Palm-Sunday, in the year of our Lord 1543, and began their search about eleven at night. In which search were apprehended Robert Benet, Henry Filiner, John Marbeck, and Robert Testwood, for certain books and writings found in their houses against the six articles, and kept in ward till Monday after, and then all fetched up to the council, except Testwood, with whom the bailiffs of the town were charged, he being ill with the gout. The other three, being examined before the council, were committed to prison, Filmer and Benet to the bishop of London's prison, and Marbeck to the Marshalsea.

            This Marbeck had begun a great work in English, called, The Concordance of the Bible: which book, being not half finished, was among his other books taken in the search, and had up to the council. And when he came before them to be examined, the whole work lay before the bishop of Winchester, at the upper end of the board. The bishop beholding the man a while, said, "Marbeck, dost you know wherefore you art sent for?" " No, my lord," said he, " unless it be for a certain search made of late in Windsor." " You knows the matter well enough," quoth the bishop; and taking up a quire of the Concordance in his hand, said, " Understand you the Latin tongue?" " No," said he, " but simply." " No!" said the bishop; and with that spoke Mr. Wrisley, secre­tary to the king, " He says but simply." " I cannot tell," quoth the bishop, " but the book is translated word for word out of the Latin Concordance; and if such a book should go forth in English, it would destroy the Latin tongue."

            After a while sir Anthony Wingfield came forth, and calling for Marbeck, committed him to one of the guard, saying, "Take this man, and have him to the Marshalsea, and tell the keeper that it is the council's pleasure he shall treat him gently, and if he have any money in his purse, as I think he has not much, take you it from him, lest the prisoners take it, and portion it out to him as he shall have need." And so the messenger departed with Mar­beck to the Marshalsea, and did his commission faithfully, both to the keeper and prisoner.

            On the next day, which was Tuesday, by eight o'clock in the morning, there came Mr. Knight, one of the bishop of Winchester's gentlemen, into the Marshalsea, whose man brought after him two great books, and finding Marbeck walking up and down in the chapel, demanded of the keeper why he was not in irons. " I had no such commandment," said he, " for the messenger which brought him last night from the council, said it was their pleasure he should be gently used." " My lord," said Mr. Knight, " will not be content with you:" and so taking the books of his man, he called for a room, up to which he carried the prisoner, and laying the books upon a bed, sat down, and said, Marbeck, my lord does favor thee well for some good qualities that you bast, and has sent me hither to admonish thee to take heed lest you cast away thyself wilfully. If you wilt be plain, you shall do thyself much good; if not, you shall do thyself much harm. I assure thee, my lord lamenteth thy case, because he has always heard a good report of thee; wherefore now play the wise man. You art acquainted with a great sort of heretics, and knows much of their secrets; if you wilt now open them at my lord's request, he will procure thy deliverance out of hand, and prefer thee to a better living." "Alas, sir," said he, " what secrets do I know? I am but a poor man, and was never worthy to be so trusted." " Perhaps," said Mr. Knight, " you fearest to utter any thing of them, because they were thy friends, lest they should hear thereof, and withdraw their friendship from thee; but you needest not fear that, for they are sure enough, and never like to pleasure thee any more, nor any man else." With that the water stood in Marbeck's eyes. " Why weepest thou?" said Knight. " Oh, sir," quoth he, " I pray you pardon me; these men have done me good; wherefore I beseech the living God to comfort them as I would be comforted myself." Then Mr. Knight, after asking some questions, called up his man to take away the books, and departed, leaving Marbeck alone in the chamber, the door-being fast shut. Two hours after, Knight came again, with a sheet of paper folded in his hand, and sat down upon the bed-side as before, and said, " By my troth, Marbeck, my lord seeth so much wilfulness in thee, that he says it is pity to do thee good. You must be plainer with my lord, or else it will be wrong with thee, and that sooner than you thinkest."

            How plain will his lordship have me to be, sir?" said he, " There is nothing that I can do and say with a safe conscience, but I am ready to do it at his lordship's pleasure." " What tellest you me," quoth Knight, " of thy conscience? You may with a safe conscience utter those that be heretics." " If I knew sir," said he, " who were an heretic indeed, it were something; but if I should accuse him to be an heretic that is none, what a worm would that be in my conscience so long as I lived? Yea, it were a great deal better for me to be out of this life, than to live in such torment." " In faith," quoth Knight, " thou. knows as well who be heretics, as I know this paper to be in my band; but it is no matter, for they shall all be sent for and examined; and thinkest you that they will not tell of thee all that they can?" " Whatsoever," quoth he, a they shall say of me, let them do it in the name of GOD, for I will say no more of them, nor of any man else, than I know."." Well," said Knight, " if you wilt do so, my lord requires no more. And forasmuch as now peradventure thy wits are troubled, so that you can not call things to remem­brance, I have brought thee ink and paper, that you may write such things as shall come to thy mind." Then he laid down the ink and paper, and went his way.

Hereupon Marbeck was full of heaviness: and falling down with tears, cried out to GOD, and said, " O most merciful Father of heaven, You that knows the secret doings of all men, have mercy upon thy poor prisoner, who is destitute of all help and comfort. Assist me, O Lord, with thy special grace, that to save this vile body, which shall turn to corruption at his time, I may not say or write any thing that may be to the casting away of my Christian brother; but rather, O Lord, let this vile flesh suffer at thy will and pleasure. Grant this, O most mer­ciful Father, for thy dear Son JESUS CHRIST's sake." Then he rose up, and at last writ these words: "

            Whereas your lordship will have me to write such things as I know of my fellows; pleases it your lordship to understand, that I cannot call to' remembrance any thing whereby I might justly accuse any one of them, unless it be the reading of the New Testament; more than this I know not."

            When Mr. Knight came again, he found Marbeck walking up and down the chamber. " How now," said he, " have you written nothing?" " Yes, sir," said he " as much as I know." " Well said," quoth Knight; and took up the paper. Which when he had read, he cast it from him in a great fume, swearing by our Lord's body, that he would not for twenty pounds carry it to his master. "" Therefore," said he, " go to it again, and advise thyself better, or else you wilt set my lord against thee, and then art you utterly undone." "By my troth, sir," said Marbeck, " if his lordship shall keep me here these seven years, I can say no more than I have said." "Then wilt you repent it," said Knight; and so putting up his pen and ink, departed with the paper in his hand.

            The next day, which was Wednesday, by eight o'clock in the morning, the bishop sent for Marbeck, to his house at St. Mary-Overy's; and as he was entering the hall, he saw the bishop himself coming out at a door in the upper end thereof, with a great roll in his hand; and going toward the great window, he called him to him, and said, " Marbeck, wilt you cast away thyself?" "No, my lord," said he, " I trust." " Yes," said the bishop, "you goest about it, for you wilt utter nothing. What a devil made thee to meddle with the Scriptures? Thy vocation was another way.." " My lord," said he, " I have done my part, according to that little knowledge that God has given me." " And why the devil," said the bishop, " didst you not hold thee there?" And with that he flang away from the window, out of the hall, the poor man following him from place to place, till he had brought him into a long gallery, and being there, the bishop began on this wise: " Ah sirrah, the nest of you is broken, I trow." And unfolding his roll, (which was about an ell long,) he said, " Behold, here is the whole pack of your sect, and you will utter none of them."

            " Alas, my lord," said he, " how should I accuse them of whom I know nothing?" " Well," said the bishop, " if you wilt needs cast away thyself, who can let thee? What helpers hadst you in setting forth thy book?" " Forsooth, my lord," said he, " none." " None," said the bishop, a how can that be? It is not possible that you should do it without help." " Truly, my lord," said he, " I did it without the help of any, save God alone." " Nay," said the bishop, " I do not discommend thy diligence, but why should you meddle with that thing which pertaineth not to thee?"

Then one of the bishop's men came up and told him, the priest was ready to go to mass. The bishop then went down to hear mass, leaving Marback alone in the gallery. Then Mr. Knight came up again with ink and paper. ",Come, sirrah," said he, " my lord will have you occu­pied till mass be done." Marbeck calling upon God again in his mind, wrote a few words, as nigh as he could frame them, to those he had written the day before. When the bishop was come from mass, and had looked on the writing, he pushed it from him, saying, " What will this do? It has neither head nor foot. This is a marvelous sect, for the devil cannot make one of them betray another." Then the bishop's gentlemen made him ready to go to court. And when his white rochet was on him, and all: " Well, Marbeck," said he, "I am now going to the court, and was purposed, if I had found thee tractable, to have spoken to the king's majesty for thee; but seeing you art so willful and so stubborn, you shall go to the devil for me." Then was he carried down by the bishop's men, with many railing words into the hall, where he was received of his keeper, and carried to prison again. It was not half an hour after, ere the bishop sent one of his gentlemen to the keeper, called Stokes, commanding him to put irons upon Marbeck, and to keep him fast shut up in a chamber alone, and to see that he spoke to no man, and no man to him.

            And furthermore, that he should stiffer no manner of person (not his own wife) to come and see him, or minister any thing, unto him.

About three weeks before Whitsunday, Marbeck was sent for to the bishop of London's house, where sat in commission, Dr. Capon, bishop of Salisbuly,tDr. Skip, bishop of Hereford, Dr. Goodrick, bishop of Ely, Dr. Oking, Dr. May, and the bishop of London's scribe, having before them, all Marbeck's books. Then said the bishop of Salisbury, " Marbeck, we are sent from the king's majesty, to examine thee of certain things, whereof you must be sworn to answer us truly." " I am content, my lord," quoth he, " to tell you the truth so far as I can," and so took his oath. Then the bishop of Salis­bury laid before him, his three books of notes, demanding whose hand they were. He answered, they were his own hand, and notes -which he had gathered out of other men's works, six years ago. " Methinks," quoth the bishop of Ely, " you have read all sorts of books, both good and bad." " So I have, my lord," quoth he. Then the bishop of Salisbury drew out a quire of the Concordance, and laid it before the bishop of Hereford, who looking upon it a while, lifted up his eyes to Dr. Oking, and said, " This man has been better occupied than a great sort of our priests." To the which he made no answer.

            Then said the bishop of Salisbury, "Whose help hadst you in setting forth this book?" "Truly, my lord," quoth he, "no help at all." " How couldst You," quoth the bishop, "invent such a book, or know what a Concordance meant, without an instructor?" " I will tell your lord­ship," quoth he, " what instructor I had to begin it. When Thomas Matthew's bible came first out in print, I was desirous to have one of them; and being a poor man not able to buy one, I determined to borrow one, and write it out. And when I had written out the five books of Moses, and was entered into the book of Joshua, my friend, Mr. Turner, chanced to steal upon me unawares, and seeing me writing out the bible, asked me what I meant. And when I had told him the cause: Tush, quoth he, you goest about a tedious labor. But this were a profitable work for thee, to set out a Concordance in English. A Concordance, said I, what is that? Then he told me, it was a book to find out any word in the bible, and that there was such a one in Latin already. Then I told him, I had no learning to go about such a thing. Enough, quoth he, for that matter; for it requires not so much learning as diligence." " What is that Turner?" quoth the bishop of Salisbury. " Marry," quoth May, " an honest learned man, sometime a fellow in Magdalen College, in Oxford." " How couldst You," quoth the bishop of Salisbury, " with this instruction, bring it into this order and form, as it is?" " I borrowed a Latin Concordance," quoth he, " and began to practice my wit, and at last, with great labor and diligence, brought it into this order, as your lordship sees." " A good wit with diligence," quoth the bishop of Hereford,

            “I may bring hard things to pass." " It is great pity," quoth the bishop of Ely, " he had not the Latin tongue." " So it is," said Dr. May. " Yet I cannot believe," said the bishop of Salisbury, "that he has done any more in this work, than written it out after some other."  " My lords," said Marbeck, " I beseech you to grant me one request." " Say what you wilt," said the bishop. " I am does any other should be punished for my fault.

Therefore to clear all men, this is my request, that ye will try me in the rest of the book. Ye see that I am but yet at the letter L, beginning now at M; take what word ye will of that letter, and give me the words in a piece of paper, and set me in a place alone, with ink and paper, the English bible, and the Latin Concordance; and if I bring you not these words written in the same order that the rest is, then was it not I that did it." " By my truth, Marbeck," said the bishop of Ely, " that is honestly spoken, and then you wilt bring many out of suspicion."

            "That he will," said they all. Then they bade Dr. Oking draw out such words as he thought best, and so rose up; and in the mean time fell into other familiar talk with Marbeck, who perceiving the bishops so disposed, besought them to tell him in what danger he stood. " Shall I tell thee, Marbeck?" said the bishop of Sarum. " You art in a better case than any of thy fellows, of whom there be some would give 4O1. to be in no worse case than you art." Then came Dr. Oking with the words he had written, and while the bishops were perusing, Dr. Oking said to Marbeck, " Good Mr. Marbeck, make haste, for the sooner ye have done, the sooner ye shall be delivered."

            When dinner was done, the bishop of Sarum came down into the hall, commanding ink and paper to be given to Marbeck, and the two books to one of his men, to go with him; at whose going, he demanded of the bishop, " What time his lordship would appoint him to do it in?" "Against to-morrow this time, said the bishop," and so departed. Marbeck now fell to his business, and by the next day, when the bishop sent for him again, he had written more than three sheets of paper, in the same order and form he had done the rest. When he had delivered it to the bishop of Sarum, he marvelled and said, " Well, Marbeck, you have now put me out of all doubt. I assure thee," said he, (putting up the paper into his bosom,) " the king shall see this ere I be 24 hours older;" but he dissembled every word, and thought nothing less. For afterward, the matter being known to his grace, what a book the poor man had begun, which the bishops would not suffer him to finish; the king said, he was better occupied than they that took it from him. So Marbeck departed from the bishop of Sarum to prison, and heard no more of his book.

            When the time drew nigh, that the king (who was newly married to lady Katherine Parr) was to make his progress abroad, Anthony Pearson, Henry Filmer, and John Marbeck, were sent to Windsor by the, sheriff's men, the Saturday before St. James's day, and laid fast in the town jail; and Testwood, (who had kept his bed,) was brought out of his house upon crutches, and laid with them; but as for Benet (which should have been the fifth man,) his chance was to be sick of the pestilence, and having a great sore upon him, he was left behind in the bishop of London's jail, whereby he escaped the fire.

            These men being brought to Windsor, there was a sessions holden the Thursday following; against which sessions (by the counsel of Dr. London,) were all the farmers belonging to the college of Windsor warned to appear, because they could not pick out papists enough in the town to go upon the jury. The judges were these: Dr. Capon, bishop of Salisbury, Sir William Essex, Sir Thomas Bridges, and Sir Humphry Foster, Mr. Franklin, dean of Windsor, and Mr. Fachel, of Reading. When these had taken their places, and the prisoners were brought forth before them, the clerk of the peace called Anthony Pearson, and read his indictment, which was, That he had spoke against the host two years before, in a sermon preached at a place called Wingfield. To this Pearson answered, " I will be tried by God and his holy word, whether this be heresy or no. So long as I preached the bishop of Rome and his traditions, I was never troubled; but since I have taken upon me to preach CHRIST, and his gospel, ye have always sought my life. But it maketh no matter, for when you have taken your pleasure of my body, it shall not he in your powers to hurt my soul." "You tallest us thieves," quoth the bishop. " I say, (quoth Anthony Pearson,) ye are not only thieves, but murderers, except ye preach the word of God purely and sincerely to the people, which ye do not, nor ever did, but have allured them to all idolatry, superstition, and hypocrisy, for your own lucre and glory's: sake." Then spoke Symonds, his accuser, stand­ing within the bar, " It is a pity this fellow had not been burnt long ago."

            " When we shall both appear before the tribunal seat of CHRIST, (said Anthony,) then it will be known which of us two has best deserved to stand in this place." "Shall I have so long a day? (quoth Symonds, holding up his finger,) nay, then I care not."  Then Testwood was called, and his indictment read, which was that he should say, when the priest was lifting up the sacrament, What wilt you lift up so high? What yet higher? Take heed; let him not fall. After which the bishop said, cc Yes, and you have been seen, when the priest lifted up the sacrament over his head, to look down on thy book, or some other way." " I beseech you, my lord, (quoth Testwood,) whereon did he look that marked me so well?" " Marry, (quoth the king's attorney,) he could not be better occupied, than to mark such heretics that so despise the blessed sacrament."

            Then Filmer was called, and his indictment read, setting forth that he should say, the sacrament of the altar was nothing but a similitude, or a ceremony; which they had brought his brother, a poor laboring man of Clewer, to testify.

            Then was Marbeck called, and his indictment read, to the same effect. To this he answered, "That the words whereof they had indicted him were not his, but the words of John Calvin, which he had only written out, and that long before the six articles came forth; so that now he was discharged of that offence, by the king's general pardon."

            Then said Filmer, "The law is, I should have two lawful witnesses, and here is but one." " Nay, (quoth the king's attorney,) throe own brother is witness against thee, which is more than two other witnesses." Then the jury was called, to whom sir Humphry Foster spoke, " Masters, you see there is no man that layette any thing to the charge of this poor man Marbeck, saving he has written certain things of other men's sayings, whereof he is discharged by the king's general pardon."

            Then the jury went to the chamber over the place where the judges sat, and in the mean time went all the knights and gentlemen abroad, saving the bishop, sir William Essex, and Fachel, which three sat still upon the bench till all was done. And when the jury had been in the chamber about a quarter of an hour, one of them came down to the bishop, and talked with him a good while; whereby many conjectured that they could not agree concerning Marbeck. But he had not been gone long up again before they came down to give their verdict; and one Hide, dwelling beside Abingdon, speaking for the rest, said, they were all guilty. Then the judges, beholding the prisoners a good while, (some with watery eyea,) made courtesy who should give judgment. Fachel requiring the bishop to do it, he said, " He might not." The others being required, said, " They would not." Then said Fachel, " It must be done, one must do it, and if no man will, then I will." And so Fachel, being lowest of all the bench, gave judgment. Then Marbeck, being the last upon whom sentence was given, cried unto the bishop, " Ah, my lord, you told me otherwise when I was before you and the other two bishops. You said then, that I was in better case than any of my fellows,. and is your saying come to this? Ah, my lord, you have deceived me." Then the bishop, casting up his hand, said, " He could not do with all."

            The prisoners being had away, prepared themselves to die on the morrow, comforting one another in the death and passion of CHRIST,, their Master; yea, such heavenly talk was amongst them that night, that the hearers, watching the prison without, whereof the sheriff himself

was one, with divers gentlemen more, were constrained to shed plenty of tears, as themselves confessed. On the morrow, which was Friday, as the prisoners were pre­paring themselves to go to suffer, word was brought that they should not die that day. The cause was this, the bishop of Sarurn had sent a letter by one of the sheriff's gentlemen, to the bishop of Winchester, in the favor of Marbeck. At the sight of which letter, the bishop straitway went to the king, and obtained his pardon.

            Which being granted, he caused a warrant to be made out of hand, delivering the same to the messenger, who returned with great joy, bringing good news to the town, of Marbeck's pardon, whereat many rejoiced.  On Saturday, in the morning, Pearson seeing much people in the prison, began to say the Lord's prayer, whereof he made a marvelous godly declaration, wherein he continued till the officers came to fetch them away. Then taking their leave of Marbeck, they praised God for his deliverance, wishing to him the increase of godliness and virtue, and besought him heartily to help- them with his prayer unto GOD, to make them strong in their afflictions, and so kissing him one after another, they departed.

            As the prisoners passed through the people in the streets, they desired all the faithful people to pray for them, and to stand fast in the truth of the gospel, and not to be moved at their afflictions, for it was the hap­piest thing that ever came to them. And ever as the priests who rode on each side the prisoners, would per­suade them to turn to mother church, Pearson would cry, " Away, away with your Romish doctrine, and all your trumpery, for we will no more of it." When Filmer was come to his brother's door, he called for his brother, but he could not be seen. When he had called three or four times, and saw he came not, he said, "And will he not come? Then God forgive him, and make him a good man." And so going forth they came to the place of execution, where Anthony Pearson, with a cheerful coun­tenance, embraced the post in- his arms, and kissing it, said, " Now, welcome mine own sweet wife; for this day shall you and I be married together in the love and peace of God."

When they were all bound to the stakes, Filmer, re­joicing in the Lord, said, " Be merry, my brethren, and lift up your hands unto GOD, for, after this sharp break­fast, I trust we shall have a good dinner in the kingdom of CHRIST our Lord and Redeemer." At the which words, Testwood, lifting up his hands and eyes to heaven, de­sired the Lord to receive his spirit. And Anthony Pear­son, pulling the straw unto him, laid a good quantity thereof upon his head, saying, "This is God's hat; now I am dressed like a true soldier of CHRIST, by whose merits only, I trust this day to enter into his joy." And so yielded up their souls to the Father of heaven, in the faith of his dear Son, JESUS CHRIST.

THE MARTYRDOM

OF

MR. KERBY & ROGER CLARK.

            MR. J. KERBY, and Roger Clark, of Mendelsham, were apprehended at Ipswich, in the year 1546, and brought before the lord Wentworth, with other commissioners appointed there to examine them.  In the mean time Kerby,and Clark, being in the goaler's house, named John Bird, an honest and good man, (who had checks divers times at the bar, that he was more meet to be kept, than to be a keeper,) came iu Mr. Robert Wingfield, son and heir of Humphry Wingfield, knight, who said to Kerby, " Remember, the fire is hot; take heed of thine enterprize, that you take no more upon thee than you shall be able -to perform. The terror is great, the pain will be extreme, and life is sweet." Kerby answered, “ Mr. Win-field, be at my burning, and you shall say, (There stands a Christian soldier in the fire:' for I know that fire, sword, and all other things are in the hands of GOD, and he will suffer no more to be laid upon us than he will give us strength to bear." " Ah Kerby," said Mr. Wingfield, " if you art at that point I will bid thee farewell; for I promise thee I am not so strong that I am able to burn." And so, saying that he would pray for them, he shook hands with them, and went away.

            When Kerby and Clark came to the judgment-scat; they lifted up their eyes and hands to heaven with great devotion, making their prayers secretly to God for some time. That done, their articles were declared to them and then it was demanded, whether they believed, that after the words spoken by a priest, there were not the very body and blood of CHRIST, and no bread? They answered, "No; they did not believe so; but that they believed the sacrament, which CHRIST JESUS instituted at his last supper, was only to put all men in remembrance of his precious death and blood-shedding for the remis­sion of sins, and that there was neither flesh nor blood to be eaten with the teeth, but bread and wine, conse­crated to an holy use."

            Sentence was then given upon them both, Kerby to be burned in the said town on the next Saturday, and Clark to be burned at Bur