part of the church of Christ; the doctrine taught therein being false and erroneous: they disproved transubstantiation, rejected auricular confession as a necessary thing, condemned the use of an unknown tongue in the services of the church, justified separation from the false communion of Rome, and appealed to the canon laws. After this, they were again urged to recant; and, on failure of the attempt, were condemned by Bonner, and burned. Chamberlain at Colchester, Osmond at Manningtree, and Bamford at Harwich. They died in defence of the faith; while three others, who were taken with them, purchased the prolongation of a comfortless existence by denying it.

CHAPTER XVII.

JOHN BRADFORD.

SCARCELY do the annals of Christ's persecuted church furnish us with an instance of faith working by love, so uniformly, so sweetly, so universally, as we find it manifested among men in that holy and blessed martyr John BradFORD. His writings, of which a volume is preserved, breathe so divine a spirit of that wisdom from above, which is first pure, then peaceable, and of that tenderness which the Holy Ghost alone can inspire, that it is not possible to read even a few pages without feeling that we sit at the feet of one commissioned of God to instruct, to warn, to build up, and to comfort his people. It is a marvellous thing that any English Protestant should be ignorant of Bradford's writings; but, alas! how very many there are, deeply versed in foreign literature, and in heathen mythology, who know as little of their own devoted forefathers as though they had never yielded their lives for the truth, or left a rich legacy of sacred knowledge to their unthankful, forgetful successors. Fox has devoted no fewer than sixtyeight pages of his large folio to the story and remains of "Mr. John Bradford, holy martyr," and matter more instructive is not to be found in those valuable Acts and Monuments. Our limited space will only admit a memoir; but we earnestly hope it may be the means of bringing

many of our readers acquainted with the beautiful writings of this eminent servant of Christ.

He was a native of Manchester, carefully educated by his parents, by whose diligent instructions he so well profited, that on entering the service of sir John Harrington, he was both found worthy of his master's fullest confidence, and rendered him important aid, as a secretary and accountant, in the weighty business that devolved on the knight, as treasurer of the royal camps and buildings, at Boulogne; in the reigns of Henry VIII., and of Edward.

Continuing for some years in this station with every prospect of high preferment, if the honours and emoluments of this world had formed the object of pursuit, Bradford became the subject of a higher and holier calling, which moved him to forsake all for the love of Christ and his gospel. Impelled to seek, by the ministry of the word, the promulgation of those blessed truths which were experimentally known to him, he rendered up a faithful account to his earthly master, and proceeded from the Temple, in London, to the University of Cambridge; where his great natural ability, his diligence in study, and singular advancement in all godly learning, procured for him, at the end of one year, the degree of master of arts. Immediately afterwards the masters and fellows of Pembroke Hall gave him a fellowship in their college, where he enjoyed the warm friendship of Martin Bucer, who frequently urged him to employ his talent in preaching; and when Bradford objected that he was too unlearned for that office, Bucer would reply, "If thou hast not fine manchet bread, yet give the poor people barley bread, or whatever the Lord hath committed to thee."

Ridley, then bishop of London, discerning Bradford's worth, called him to the office of a deacon; and Bradford having scruples as to some superstitious customs then still belonging to the order of investment, the good bishop waved them, to avoid offending his conscience, and having ordained him, gave him a prebend in St. Paul's with license to preach. In this office he continued for three years, faithfully and diligently labouring. Sharply he opened and reproved sin; sweetly he preached Christ crucified; pithily he impugned heresies and errors; earnestly he persuaded to godly life. After the death of blessed young Edward, and Mary's accession to the throne, he ceased not his sacred ministry, until, by a device that would have shamed a tribe

of savages, he was cast into prison for an act which deserved at their hands the most grateful acknowledgment and reward.

Mention has already been made of an affray, when Bourn, afterwards bishop of Bath, preaching at St. Paul's cross, in praise of popery and disparagement of the reformation, was assaulted by the people and rescued by the timely help of Rogers and his brother martyr. The facts were these: so strong was the indignation of the people, when they heard an open avowal of popish doctrines from that pulpit, that neither the presence of Bonner nor the authority of the mayor could repress their rage. The preacher was in imminent danger; even a dagger being hurled at him from the crowd; and in alarm he appealed to Bradford, who stood behind, to defend him, and appease the popular excitement. Immediately the good man presented himself; and being greatly endeared to the Londoners by his life and doctrine, during his three years' ministry in that church, they testified their attachment by a great cry of Bradford! Bradford! God save thy life, Bradford! and after gladly listening to his grave exhortation to peace and quietness, they dispersed peaceably to their homes. To so great peril did Bradford expose himself on this occasion, that the dagger thrown at Bourn passed through his sleeve, and was near entering his arm. Afterwards, the popish preacher being still in great fear of the populace, implored Bradford and Rogers not to leave him until he reached the school-house, and was safely sheltered. They assented, Bradford going close behind him, and with his gown shading him from the sight of the people, whose exasperation was still very great, owing to the scandalous terms in which Bourn had railed at the memory of their beloved king Edward. One gentleman exclaimed, as they passed on to the school, "Ah, Bradford, Bradford, thou savest him that will burn thee. I give thee his life: if it were not for thee, I would, I assure thee, run him through with my sword."

In the afternoon of that day Bradford preached at Bow church, in Cheapside; and though he was privately admonished.not to reprove the people, whose indignation was still so great as to render it doubtful if they would bear it even from him, he lectured them very sharply for their seditious misdemeanour, and administered a powerful rebuke. His reward followed shortly, for within three days he was committed to the Tower, to answer for his treasonable conduct

at Paul's cross! Here, and in other prisons, he remained from August, 1553, till January, 1555, when he was called to his examination before Stephen Gardiner, and other inquisitors.

During this imprisonment of fifteen months' duration, he wrote the greater number of those beautiful letters and treatises which ought to be in the hands of every Christian. He also preached twice a day constantly, unless hindered by sickness, and frequently administered the sacrament. Through the leniency of his keepers, who were entirely won by his lovely deportment and heavenly conversation, free access was given to as many as his chamber would hold; and if Christ ever had a church upon earth, such church might be found in John Bradford's prison. Preaching, reading and praying were his very life; he ate but one meal a day, and that a slight one. Often in the midst of dinner, with his hat pulled over his eyes, he would muse within himself till the tears fell plentifully on his trencher. Kneeling was his favourite attitude of study; and to every human being he was gentleness itself. Such confidence had his keeper in the sacredness of his word, that when in the king's bench in Southwark, he could obtain the gaoler's permission to go alone, in the evening, to visit a sick person in London, on simply promising to return the same night; and on no occasion did he fail to be back somewhat before the stipulated hour; to avoid the possibility of being a minute beyond his time. When Saunders was in the Marshalsea, they frequently met in the rear of their respective prisons, with the sanction of their keepers, who feared not to give them any degree of liberty; so utterly and evidently incapable were these godly men of taking an advantage of it: and once Bradford had permission to ride into Oxfordshire, to visit a friend there, and was only prevented by illness from so doing.

His prepossessing appearance could not but add to the effect produced by his unblamable conduct, on common observers. He was tall and slender, fair, with a slight glow of colour, auburn hair and beard. His liberality was great, freely imparting to his fellow prisoners of what money he had. Once every week he visited the thieves and pickpockets in confinement, exhorting them to improve their present trouble to the amendment of their lives; and after such discourse relieving their necessities as far as his purse would go. Study was his delight; the book never

left his hand at night till sleep stole over him, and four hours was the time he allowed himself for that refreshment. His recreation was in sober and becoming converse with those who sat at table with him, in which he indulged for a little time after dinner; then to prayer, and his book again. No hour did he willingly let pass, without some good done, either to his own soul by study, or to others by the pen, and exhortation. His life he counted not dear unto him; and when a friend asked him where he would go, and what he would do, if suit were successfully made to get him set at liberty, Bradford answered as scarcely caring whether it was or no; but said if he did obtain his freedom he would marry, and remain in England, secretly seeking occasion to teach the people still. The affection which he inspired in others was of the like character with what he felt for them: and what that was, every page of his exquisite letters testifies.

Such was John Bradford, who, on entering into the presence of Mary's blood-stained commissioners, on the 22d of January, 1555, having bent his knee, in acknowledgment of the royal authority under which they sat, stood before them, as guiltless a victim as Adam's corrupt progeny ever furnished to the murderer's knife. Gardiner, the shameless lord chancellor, commenced by attempting to face down with one of his bullying looks, the meek minister of religion: but meek as he truly was, Bradford had learned to give place by subjection, no, not for an hour, to the preachers of a false gospel. Calmly and steadily he met the chancellor's gaze with one equally intent; and saving that once, for a moment, he cast his eyes heavenward, sighing in secret prayer for God's assisting grace, he flinched not from the encounter of looks, until Gardiner, seemingly amazed and perplexed, gave over, and addressed him. Nothing can exceed the graceful dignity of Bradford's conduct, the truth and soberness of his quiet replies, or the force and justness of his reasonings, during the long discussion that ensued. He was never moved to utter a harsh or hasty expression, though very ungentle language was indulged in by the examiners, Winchester accusing him of hypocrisy and vain-glory; Southwell calling him an arrogant and stubborn boy; Bonner taxing him as a ringleader of the seditious populace at Paul's cross, and one and all repeatedly giving him the lie. After debating the cause of his imprisonment, which they asserted to have been his