characteristic brutality, refused this, affirming that she was not his wife. And when, on the day of his execution, he asked Bonner, that he might speak to her, a few words only, before his burning, that monster would not permit it. She met him, however, with her ten children, one hanging on the breast, as he went to Smithfield. That sight did not abate the cheerfulness of his courage; a pardon was offered him at the stake, if he would recant; he steadily refused it, and washing his hands in the flames as they blazed about him, took his death with so calm and resolute a patience, that many who were present blessed God for the support which had been vouchsafed him, and derived strength from his example.

The second martyr, Laurence Saunders, had been educated first at Eton, afterwards at King's College; but when he had continued at Cambridge three years, his mother, who was left a widow in good circumstances, meaning " to set him up wealthily," (and perceiving, perhaps, how dangerous the path of letters had become,) called him from his studies, and apprenticed him to Sir William Chester, who happened to be Sheriff of London at the time of his martyrdom. Sir William was a good and liberal man, and perceiving that the youth was made unhappy by his change of life, gave up his indentures, and prevailed upon the mother to let him return to his beloved pursuits. In Edward's reign, he married, and obtained preferment; now when the persecution began, he was soon selected as a victim, and brought before Bonner, who had superseded Ridley in the See of London. Bonner desired him to write his opinion concerning transubstantiation he obeyed without hesitation, saying, as he delivered the writing, "My Lord, ye do seek my blood, and ye shall have it. I pray God, that ye may be so baptized in it, that ye may thereafter loathe bloodsucking, and become a better man." When he spoke of his conscience, Bonner exclaimed, "A goodly conscience truly: it would make our Queen a bastard, would it not, I pray you?" Saunders replied, "We go about no such matter. Let them care for that, whose writings are yet in the hands of men, witnessing the same, not without the great reproach and shame of the authors.". . . For Bonner had, in Henry's reign, written and printed a book, wherein he declared

the marriage with Catharine unlawful, and the Princess Mary illegitimate. This retort touched him, and he immediately said, "Carry away this frenzy fool to prison !"

While Saunders had lived in expectation of being thus apprehended, he was disquieted; and he said to a friend who observed this, "In very deed, I am in prison till I be in prison." Having been seized, he knew that the die was cast for death: from that moment, all perturbation ceased; and, by a curious effect of the mind upon the body, the emotion which he felt during his first examination was rendered purely pleasurable: he described it, to a fellow-prisoner, as a sense of refreshment issuing from every part and member towards the heart, and from thence ebbing and flowing to and fro; and he believed it to be, "a certain taste of the Communion of Saints, wonderfully comforting him, not only in spirit, but in body also." He charged his wife, that she should make no suit for him, and assured her of his cheerful constancy, thanks to his God and his Christ, "in whom, and through whom, I shall, (said he,) I know, be able to fight a good fight, and finish a good course, and receive the crown which is laid up in store for me and all the true soldiers of Christ." "Thank you know whom, (he continued,) for her most sweet and comfortable putting me in remembrance of my journey whither I am passing. God send us all good speed, and a joyful meeting! I have too few such friends to further me in that journey, which is, indeed, the greatest friendship."

The keeper of the Marshalsea prison had been ordered to let no person visit him. His wife, therefore, when she came to the prison-gate, with her infant in her arms, was refused admittance; but the keeper, with more humanity than was usual in men of his vocation, carried the infant to its father. They who were present admired the child; upon which Saunders exclaimed, "What man, fearing God, would not lose this present life, rather than, by prolonging it, adjudge this boy to be a bastard, his wife a whore, and himself a whoremonger? Yea, if there were no other cause for which a man of my estate should lose his life, yet who would not give it, to avouch this child to be legitimate, and his marriage to be lawful and holy !" This burst of feeling may explain, why it was that, during this persecution, the

1 Fox, iii. p. 110.

X

2 Ibid. iii. 113.

married' Clergy were observed to suffer with most alacrity. They were bearing testimony to the validity and sanctity of their marriage, against the foul and unchristian aspersions of the Romish persecutors; the honour of their wives and children was at stake; the desire of leaving them an unsullied name and a virtuous example, combined with the sense of religious duty; and thus the heart derived strength from the very ties which, in other circumstances, might have weakened it.

When Saunders had been kept fifteen months in prison, (for he had been committed at the commencement of this bloody reign,) he was brought before the Council, where Gardiner told him, it was now thought good that mercy should be shown to such as would seek it. "We have fallen in manner all," said he; "but now we be risen again, and returned to the Catholic Church, you must rise with us, and come home unto it. Leave off your painting and pride of speech; for such is the fashion of you all, to please yourselves in your glorious words. Answer,... yea or nay!" "My Lord," replied the martyr," it is no time for me to paint; and as for pride, there is no great cause why it should be in me. My learning, I confess to be but small; and as for riches or worldly wealth, I have none. But it standeth me to answer circumspectly, considering that one of these two extreme perils are like to fall upon me, the losing of a good conscience, or of this my body and life. And I tell you truth, I love both life and liberty, if I could enjoy them without the hurt of my conscience."

"Conscience!" replied Gardiner, "you have none at all, but pride and arrogancy: dividing yourselves, by singularity, from the Church." Upon this, Saunders made answer, "The Lord is the knower of all men's consciences. But for dividing myself from the Church, I live in the faith wherein I have been brought up, since I was fourteen years old; being taught that the power of the Bishop of Rome is but usurped, with many other abuses springing thereof. Yea, this I have received, even at your hands that are here present, as a thing agreed upon by the Catholic Church and public authority." Bonner then interfered, saying, "I have his hand against the blessed Sacrament. How say you to that?" He replied, "What I have written, I have written;

1 Fuller, b. viii. p. 23.

and further I will not accuse myself. But I beseech your honours, to be means to the Queen's Majesty, for such a pardon for us, that we may live, and keep our consciences unclogged, and we shall live as most obedient subjects. Otherwise, for myself, I must say, that, by God's grace, I will abide the most extremity that man may do against me." "Ah, sirrah," cried Gardiner, "you would live as you list! The Donatists desired to live in singularity, but they were not meet to live on earth: no more be you; and that shall you understand within these seven days; ..therefore away with him!"

Being thus assured of speedy death, he wrote to his wife, saying, he was shortly to be despatched to Christ, and desiring her to send him a shirt, "which, (said he,) you know whereunto it is consecrated. Let it be sewed down on both sides, and not open. O my heavenly Father, look upon me in the face of thy Christ, or else I shall not be able to abide thy countenance! He will do so, and therefore I will not be afraid what sin, death, and hell can do against me. O wife, always remember the Lord! .. God bless you! Yea, He will bless thee, good wife, and thy poor boy also. Only cleave thou unto Him, and He will give thee all things." The crimes of those miserable days called forth virtues equal to the occasion. A wife who prepared the garment in which her husband was to suffer at the stake, must indeed have been a true helpmate, and one who possessed a heart which could feel and understand how much his fortitude would be confirmed and comforted by a reliance upon hers.

This excellent martyr was sent to Coventry for execution, because he had held preferment in the cathedral of that diocese; and because the Queen's counsellors, as impolitic as they were inhuman, thought to strike terror throughout the kingdom, by exhibiting everywhere these terrible examples. With this view Hooper was ordered to Gloucester, there to suffer on the day after Saunders had borne his testimony in the flames. Hooper, when Bishop of that See, had held Worcester in commendam. Promotion had wrought no change in this austere and conscientious prelate," who, being bishop of two dioceses," says Fox, "so ruled and guided either of them, and both together, as though he had no charge but one family. No father in his household, no gardener in his garden, no husbandman in his vineyard, was

more employed than he in his diocese among his flock, going about the towns and villages, teaching and preaching to the people there." His custom had been, every day to entertain a certain number of the poor in his common hall: he or his chaplains examined them first in the Lord's Prayer, the Ten Commandments, and the articles of their belief; "they were then served by four at a mess with whole and wholesome meats;" and it was not till after they were served that he himself sate down to dinner.

Hooper had looked on to martyrdom as the probable termination of his course. When, upon the tidings of Edward's accession, he left his asylum at Zurich, Bullinger, who had been his singular friend in that hospitable city, requested that he would correspond with him. He promised this; but taking him earnestly by the hand, added, "the last news of all I shall not be able to write; for there, where I shall take most pains, there shall you hear of me to be burnt to ashes." His friends urged him to fly while he could yet escape; but he, judging, and rightly, that his life would profit more in its sacrifice than by its preservation, replied, "Once I did flee, and take unto my feet; but now, being called to this place and vocation, I am thoroughly persuaded to tarry, and to live and die with my sheep." He was soon arrested and brought to London, and Gardiner's first question to him was, whether he was married? "Yea, my lord," answered Hooper," and will not be unmarried, till death unmarry me." Tonstall, contrary to his usual benign nature, treated him with indignity upon this point, and called him beast; and saying that this was matter enough to deprive him, asked him the more deadly question concerning the Sacrament, to which he answered explicitly, without hesitation. He was then committed to close prison in the Fleet, and there treated with such inhumanity, that the disease, which ill usage, a damp prison, and foul air produced, had nearly prevented the purpose of his enemies. The names of those persons who relieved him there with alms, were taken by the jailer to Gardiner, to bring on their ruin.

Hooper and Rogers were sometimes brought up together for examination; and as they passed through the streets the people crowded round them, so that the Sheriff had some difficulty to