Acts and Monuments Volume 2 Part 1

*The history and martyrdom of Laurence Saunders, burned for the defense of the Gospel at Coventry. An. 1555. February 8.

AFter that Queen Mary by public proclamation in the first year of her reign, had inhibited the sincere preaching of God's holy word, as is before declared, divers godly Ministers of the word which had the cure and charge of souls committed to them, did notwithstanding according to their bounden duty, feed their flock faithfully, not as Preachers authorized by public authority (as the godly order of the Realm was in the happy days of blessed King Edward) but as the private pastors of particular flocks, among whom, Laurence Saunders was one, a man of worshipful parentage. His bringing up was in learning from his youth, in places meet for that purpose, as namely, in the school of Eaton. From whence (according to the manner there used) he was chosen to go to the Kings College in Cambridge, where he continued scholar of the College three whole years, and there profited in knowledge, and learning very much for that time: shortly after that, he did forsake the University, and went to his parents, upon whose advise he minded to become a Merchaunt, for that his mother was a Gentlewoman of good estimation, being left a widow, and having a good portion for him among his other brethren, she thought to set him up welthely, and so he coming up to London, was bound prentise with a Marchaunt, named Sir William Chester (who afterward chanced to be Sheriff of London the same year that Saunders was burned at Coventry. ) Thus by the mind of his friends Laurence should needs have been a Merchant, but almighty God which hath his secret working in all things, saw better for his servant, as it fell out in the end, for although that Saunders was bound by fast indenture to play the Merchant, yet the Lord so wrought inwardly in his heart, that he could find no liking in that vocation: so that when his other fellows were busily occupied about that kind of trade, he would secretly withdraw himself into some privy corner, and there fall into his solitary lamentations, as one not liking with that kind and trade of life.

It happened that his master, being a good man, and hearing his prentise thus in his secret prayers inwardely to moorne by himself, called him unto him, to know what the cause was of that his solitariness and lamentation, who then perceiving his mind nothing to fantasie that kind of life, (for so Saunders declared unto him) and perceiving also his whole purpose to be bent to the study of his book, and spiritual contemplation, like a good man, directed his letters incontinently unto his friends, and giving him his Indenture, so set him free, And thus Laurence Saunders being ravished with the love of learning, and especially with the reading of God's word, tarried not long time in the traffic of merchandise, but shortly returned to Cambridge again to his study, where he began to couple to the knowledge of the Latin, the study of the Greek tongue, wherein he profited in small time very much: Therewith also he joined the study of the Hebrew. Then gave he himself wholly to the study of the holy scripture, to furnish himself to the office of a Preacher.

In study he was diligent and painful, in godly life he declared the fruits of a well exercised conscience, he prayed often and with great fervor, and in his prayers as also at other times, he had his parte of spiritual exercises, which his hearty sighing to God declared. In which when any special assaulte did come, by prayer he felt present relief: then was his company marvelous comfortable. For as his exercises were special teachinges, so in the ende they proved singular consolations: wherein he became so expert, that within short space he was able to comfort other which were in any affliction, by the consolation wherewith the Lord did comfort him. Thus continued he in the University, till he proceeded Master of Art, and a long space after.

In the beginning of K. Edwards reign, when God's true religion was begun to be restored, after license obtained, he began to preach, and was so well liked of them which then had authority, that they appointed him to read a Divinity lecture in the College at Fothringa, where by doctrine and life he edified the godly, drew many ignorant to God's true knowledge, and stopped the mouth of the adversaries. He married about that time, and in the married estate led a life unblameable before all men. The College of Fothringa being dissolved, he was placed to be reader in the Minster at Lichefield: where he so behaved himself in teaching and living, that the very adversaries did give him a full report as well of learning, as of much godliness. After a certain space, he departed from Lichfield to a benefice in Leicester shyre, called Churchlangton, whereupon he keeping residence, taught diligently, and kept a liberal house. From thence he was orderly called to take a benefice in the City of London, named Alhallowes in Breadstreete. Then minded he to give over his Cure in the Country: and therefore after he had taken possession of his benefice in London, he departed from London into the Country, clearly to discharge himself thereof. And even at that time began the broyle about the claim that Queen Mary made to the Crown, by reason whereof he could not accomplish his purpose.

In this trouble, and even among the begynners of it, (such I mean as were for the Queen) he preached at Northampton, nothing meddling with the estate, but boldly uttered his conscience against Popish doctrine and Antichrists damnable errors, which were like to spring up again in England as a just plague for the little love which the English nation did bear to the blessed word of God, which had been so plentifully offered unto them. The Queens men which were there and heard him, were highly displeased with him for his Sermon, and for it kept him among them as prisoner. But partly for love of his brethren & friends, which were chief doers for the Queen among them, partly because there was no law broken by his preaching, they dismissed him. He seeing the dreadful days at hand, inflamed with the fire of godly zeal, preached with diligence at both those benefices, as time could serve him, seeing he could resign neither of them now, but into the hand of a Papist.

Thus passed he to and fro in preaching, until that proclamation was put forth, of which mention is made in the beginning. At which time he was at his benefice in the country, where he (notwithstanding the proclamation aforesaid) taught diligently God's truth, confirming y ^e people therein, and arming them against false doctrine, until he was not only commanded to cease, but also with force resisted, so that he could not proceed there in preaching. Some of his friends perceiving such fearful manassings, counseled him to fly out of the realm, which he refused to do. But seeing he was with violence kept from doing good in that place, he returned towards London, to vysite the flock, of which he had there the charge.

On Saturday, the 14. of October, as he was coming nigh to the City of London, Sir John Mordant a Coūsellour to Queen Mary, did overtake him, & asked him whether he went. I have (said Saunders) a cure in London, and now I go to instruct my people according to my duty. If you will follow my council, quoth M. Mordant let them alone, and come not at them. To this Saunders answered: how shall I then be discharged before God, if any be sick and desire consolation, if any want good counsel & need instruction, or if any should slipp into error & receive false doctrine? Did not you, quoth Mordāt preach such a day, and named the day, in Breadstreet in London? Yes verily, said Saunders, that same is my cure. I heard you myself, quoth M. Mordant: and will you preach now there again? If it please you said Saunders, tomorrow you may hear me again in that same place, where I will confirm by the authority of God's word, all that I said then, and whatsoever before that time I taught them.

I would counsel you (quoth the other) not to preach. If you can and will forbid me by lawful authority, then must I obey, said Saunders. Nay quoth he, I will not forbid you, but I do give you counsel. And thus entered they both the City, & departed eche from other. M. Mordant of an uncharitable mind, went to give warning to Boner Bishop of London, y ^t Saunders would preach in his Cure the next day. Saunders resorted to his lodging, w ^t a mind bent to do his duty. Where because he seemed to be somewhat troubled, one which was there about him asked him how he did. In very deed (saith he) I am in prison till I be in prison: meaning that his mind was unquiet until he had preached, and that then he should have quietness of mind, though he were put in prison.

The next day which was Sunday, in the forenone he made a sermon in his parish, entreating that place which Paul writeth to the Corinthians: I have coupled you to one man, that ye should make yourselves a chaste Virgin unto Christ. But I fear lest it come to pass, that as the Serpent beguiled Eve: even so your wits should be corrupt from the singleness which ye had towards Christ. He recited a sum of that true Christian doctrine, through which they were coupled to Christ, to receive of him free justification thorough faith in his blood. The Papistical doctrine he compared to the Serpentes deceiving, and lest they should be deceived by it, he made a comparison between y ^e voice of God, and the voice of the Popish Serpent: descending to more particular declaratiō thereof, as it were to let them plainly see the difference that is between the order of the Church service set forth by king Edward in the English tongue: comparing it with the popish service then used in the Latin tongue.

The first he said was good, because it was according to the word of God. Corinth. 14. and the order of the primative Church. The other he said was evil, and though in that evil he intermingled some good Latin words: yet was it but as a little honey or milk mingled with a great deal of poison, to make them to drink up all. This was the sum of his sermon.

In the after noon he was ready in his Church to have given another exhortation to his people. But the B. of London interrupted him by sending an officer for him. This officer charged him upon the pain of disobedience and contumacy, forthwith to come to the Bishop his master. Thus, as the Apostles were brought out of the Temple where they were teaching, unto the rulers of y ^e priests so was Laurence Saunders brought before this Bishop in his Palace of London, who had in his company the aforenamed Sir John Mordant & some of his Chapleins. The bishop laid no more to Laurence Saunders charge but treason for breaking the Queens proclamation, heresy and sedition for his Sermon.

The treason, and sedition, his charity was content to let slip, until another time. But an heretic he would now prove him and all those, he said, which did teach and believe that the administration of the Sacraments and all orders of the Church are most pure, which do come most nigh to the order of the primitive Church. For the Church was then but in her infancy, and could not abide that perfection which was afterward to be furnished with ceremonies. And for this cause Christ himself, & after him the Apostles did in many things bear with the rudeness of y ^e Church. To this Laurence Saunders answered w ^t the authority of S. Augustine, that ceremonies were even from the beginning invented and ordained for the rude infancy & weak infirmity of man, and therefore it was a token of the more perfection of the primitive Church, y ^t it had few ceremonies, and of the rudeness of the Church Papistical▪ because it had so many ceremonies, partly blasphemous, partly unsavory and unprofitable.

After much talk had concerning this matter, the Bishop willed him to write what he believed of transubstantiation. Laurence Saunders did so, saying: 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 loath blood-sucking, and become a better man. This writing the Bishop kept for his purpose, even to cut the writers throat, as shall appear hereafter. The Bishop when he had his will, sent Laurence Saunders to the Lord Chancellor, as Annas sent Christ to Caiaphas: and like favor found Saunders as Christ his Mayster did before him. But the Chancellor being not at home, Saunders was constrained to tarry for him by the space of four hours, in the utter chamber, where he found a Chaplein of the Bishops very merrily disposed with certain Gentlemen playing at the Tables, with diverse other of the same family or house, occupied there in the same exercise.

All this time Saunders stood very modestly and soberly at the screene or Cupboard, bareheaded, Syr John Mordant his guide or leader walking up and down by him: who (as I said before) was then one of the Counsel. At the last, the Bishop returned from the Court, whom, as soon as he was entered, a great many suitors met and received: so that, before he could get out of one house into another, half an hour was passed. At the last, he came into the chamber where Saunders was, and went through into another chamber: where in the mean way Saunders leader gave him a writing containing the cause, or rather the accusation of the said Saunders, which when he had pervsed, where is the man, said the Bishop? Then Saunders being brought forth to the place of examination, first, most lowly and meekly kneeled down, and made courtesy before the table where the Bishop did sit: Unto whom the Bishop spake on this wise.

How happeneth it (said he) that notwithstanding the Queens Proclamation to the contrary, you have enterprised to preach?

Saunders denied that he did preach: Saying, that for so much as he saw the perilious times now at hand, he did but (according as he was admonished, and warned by Ezekiel the Prophet,) exhort his flock and Parishioners to persevere and stand steadfastly, in the doctrine which they had learned, saying also, that he was moved and pricked forward thereunto by that place of the Apostle wherein he was commanded rather to obey God then man: and moreover, that nothing more moved or stirred him thereunto, then his own conscience.

A goodly conscience surely said the Bishop. This your conscience could make our Queen a Bastard or misbegotten: Would it not I pray you?

Then said Saunders, we (said he) do not declare or say that the Queen is base or misbegotten, neither go about any such matter. But for that let them care whose writings are yet in the hands of men, witnessing the same, not without the great reproach and shame of the Author: privily taunting the Bishop himself, which had before (to get the favor of Henry 8.) written and set forth in print a book of true obedience, wherein he had openly declared Queen Mary to be a Bastard. Now M. Saunders going forwards in his purpose, said: We do only profess and teach the sincerity and purity of the word, the which albeit it be now forbidden us to preach with our mouths, yet notwithstanding I do not doubt, but that our blood hereafter shall manifest the same. The Bishop being in this sort pretily nipped and touched, said: Cary away this frenzy fool to prison. Unto whom M. Saunders answered, that he did give God thanks which had given him at the last, a place of rest and quietness, where as he might pray for the Bishops conversion.

Furthermore, he that did lie with him afterwards in prison in the same bed, reported that he heard him say that even in the time of his examination, he was wonderfully comforted, in so much as not only in spirit, but also in body, he received a certain taste of that holy communion of Saints, whilst a most pleasant refreshing did issue from every part and member of the body unto the seat & place of the heart, and from thence did ebb and flow to and fro, unto all the partes again.

This Saunders continued in prison a whole year and 3. months. In all which space he sent diverse letters to diverse men: as one to Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer: and other to his wife and also to others, certifying them both of the public calamity of the time, and also of his private afflictions, and of sundry his conflicts with his adversaries: As in writing to his friend, he speaketh of Weston conferring with him in prison, whereof you shall hear anon (by the leave of the Lord) as followeth in the story. In the mean time the Chancellor, after this little talk with M. Saunders (as is aforesaid) sent him to the prison of the Marshalsey, &c. For the Caiaphas (Winchester I mean) did nothing but bait him with some of his currish eloquence, and so committed him to the prison of the Marshalsey, where he was kept prisoner one whole year and a quarter. But of his cause and estate, thou shalt now see, what Laurence Saunders himself did write.

A parcel of a Letter of Laurence Saunders sent to the Bishop of Winchester, as an answer to certain things wherewith he had before charged him.

TOuching the cause of my imprisonment, I doubt whether I have broken any law or proclamation. In my doctrine I did not, forasmuch as at that time it was permitted by the proclamation to use according to our consciences, such service as was then established. My doctrine was then agreeable unto my conscience and the service then used. The Act which I did (he meaneth public teaching of God's word in his own parish, called Alhallowes in Breadstreete in the City of London) was such, as being indifferently weighed, sounded to no breaking of the proclamation, or at the least no willful breaking of it, forasmuch as I caused no bell to be roong, neither occupied I any place in the Pulpit, after the order of Sermons or Lectures. But be it that I did break the Proclamation, this long time of continuance in prison may be thought to be more then a sufficient punishment for such a fault.

Touching the charging of me with my Religion, I say with S. Paul: This I confess, that after the way which they call heresy, so worship I the God of my forefathers, believing all things which are written in the law and the Prophets, and have hope towards God, &c. And herein study I • o have always a clear conscience towards God, and towards men: so that God I call to witness, I have a conscience. And this my conscience is not grounded upon vain fantasie, but upon the infallible verity of God's word, with the witnessing of his chosen Church agreeable unto the same.

It is an easy thing for them, which take Christ for their true Pastor, and be the very sheep of his pasture, to discern the voice of their true shepherd, from the voice of wolves, hyrelings, and strangers, for as much as Christ saith: My sheep hear my voice, yea and thereby they shall have the gift to know the right voice of the true shepherd, and so to follow him, and to avoid the contrary, as he also saith: The sheep follow the shepherd, for they know his voice: A stranger will they not follow, but will fly from him: for they know not the voice of a stranger. Such inward inspiration doth the holy Ghost put into the children of God, being in deed taught of God, but otherwise unable to understand the true way of their salvation. And albeit that the Wolf (as Christ saith) cometh in sheep's clothing, yet he saith: by their fruits ye shall know them. For there be certain fruits whereby the Wolf is bewrayed, notwithstanding that otherwise in sundry sortes of devout holiness in outward show, he seemeth never so simple a sheep. That the Romish religion is ravening & wolvish, it is apparent in 3. principal points.

First, it robbeth God of his due and only honor.

Secondly, it taketh away the true comfort of conscience, in obscuring, or rather burying of Christ, and his office of salvation.

Thirdly, it spoileth God of his true worship and service in spirit and truth, appointed in his prescript commandments, and driveth men unto that inconvenience, against the which Christ with the Prophet Isaiah doth speak sharply: This people honoreth me with their lips, but their heart is far from me. They worship me in vain, teaching the doctrine and precepts of men. And in another place: ye cast aside the commandment of God to maintain your own traditions.

Wherefore I in conscience weighing the Romish Religion, and by indifferent discussing thereof, finding the foundation unsteadfast, and the building thereupon but vain: and on the other side having my conscience framed after a right and uncorrupt religion, ratified and fully established by the word of God, and the consent of his true Church. I neither may, nor do intend by God's gracious assistance, to be pulled one jot from the same, no though an Angel out of heaven should preach another Gospel then that which I have received of the Lord.

And although that for lack either of such deep knowledge and profound judgment, or of so expedite uttering of that I do know and judge, as is required in an excellent clarke, I shall not be able sufficiently to answer, for the convincing of the gainesayer: yet nevertheless, this my protestation shall be of me premised, that for the respect of the grounds and causes before considered, albeit I cannot explicita fide as they call it, conceive all that is to be conceived, neither can discuss all that is to be discussed, nor can effectually express all that is to be expressed in the discourse of the doctrine of this most true religion, whereunto to I am professed: Yet do I bind myself as by my humble simplicity, so by my fidem implicitam: that is, by faith in generalty (as they call it) to wrap my belief in the credit of the same, that no authority of that romish religion repugnant thereunto, shall by any means remove me from the same, though it may hap that our adversaries will labor to beguile us with enticing words, and seek to spoil us through Philosophy and deceitful vanity after the traditions of men, and after the ordinances of the world, and not after Christ, &c.

And thus much out of M. Sanders letter, so much as remained thereof. The residue, because it was rent away, I could not adioine hereunto. Notwithstāding by this already expressed, it is sufficient to understand how good was y ^e cause & estate of this blessed child of god, being prisoner for Christ's cause. For y ^e defense whereof he wholly bestowed & resigned himself in such sort as he forbad his wife to sue for his delivery, & whē other of his friends had by suite almost obtained it, he discouraged them, so that they did not follow their suite, as by this letter following may appear.

A letter of M. Saunders to his wife.

This his constancy is sufficiently commended and declared by his valiant buckling with two mighty enemies, Antichrist and death. To neither of these did he give place: but by suffering their malice, got y ^e victory over them both. One of the conflicts which he had with Antichrist & his members, I have gathered out of a letter of his own hand writing. It was with Doctor Weston, a man, whom though I should praise, yet would all good and godly mē worthily disprayse. Of this the said Laurence Saunders thus writeth in a letter which he sent to one of his friends, which wrote to him to know what Doct. Weston did at the Marshalsey: whereunto he thus answereth.

M. Weston came to confer with M. Grimoald. What he hath concluded with him, I know not: I wish it may be to God's glory, Amen, Amen. M. Weston of his gentleness visited me, & of • red me friendship in his worldly wily sort, &c. I had not so much good manner, as to take it at his hand: for I said, that I was well enough, and ready cheerfully to abide the extremity, to keep thereby a good conscience. You be a sleep in sin (said he.) I would awake (quoth I) and do not forget Vigilate & orate. i. Watch & pray. What church was there, said he 30. years past? What church was there, quoth I, in Helias time? Joan of Kent, said he, was of youre Church. No, quoth I, we did condemn her as an heretic.

Who was of your Church, said he 30. years past? Such (quoth I) as that Romish Antichrist, and his rabble have reputed and condemned as heretics, Wicklife, said he, Thorpe, Old castle, &c. Yea, quoth I, with many moe, as stories do tell.

The B. of Rome hath, said he, long time played a part in your tayling sermons: but now be ye sure he must play another manner of part. The more pity, quoth I, and yet some comfort it is to see how that the best learned, wisest, & holiest of you all, have heretofore had him to play a part likewise in your sermons & writings, though now to please the world, you do turn with the weathercocke. Did you ever said he, hear me preach against the Bishop of Rome? No (quoth I) for I never heard you preach. But I trow you have ben no wiser then other, &c. with more about the Sacrament. Pray, pray. God keep your family & bless it.

What a blessed taste this good man had of God's holy spirit, by diverse and sundry his letters may right well appear to him that is disposed to peruse the same: whereof certain we have here thought good, the Lord willing, to express, first beginning with that which he wrote out of the Marshalsey to D. Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer, prisoners for the like cause of Christ in Oxford.

To the Archbishop Cranmer, Bish. Ridley, and M. Latimer, being prisoned in Oxford.

IN my most humble wise I salute you most reverend fathers in Christ Jesus our Lord, Immortal thanks and everlasting praises be given unto that our father of mercies, Which hath made us meet to be partakers of the inheritance of Saints in light, which hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, by whom we have redemption through his blood. &c O most happy estate, that in an unspeakable wise our life is hid with Christ in God: But whensoever Christ which is our life shall show himself, then shall we also appear with him in glory. In y ^e mean season as our sight is but in a glass, even in a dark speaking, so we walk in faith, not after outward appearance, the which faith although for want of outward appearance, reason reputeth but as vain, yea the chosen of God do know the effect thereof, to bring a more substantial taste and lively fruition of very felicity and perfect blessedness, then reason can reach or senses receive. By this faith we have in our profession all good things, yea even them which the eye hath not seen, and the ear hath not heard, neither hath entered the heart of man. &c. Then if hereby we do enjoy all good things, it followeth that we must needs possess, have and enjoy you most reverend Fathers, who be no small part of our joy and good things given us of God.

We heretofore have had the fruition of you by bodily presence to our inexplicable benefit, praised be that our gracious God therefore. And now in spirit we have the experience of unspeakable comfort, by your reverent fatherhoodes for y ^t in this so glorious sort, ye become a town set upon a hill, a candle upon a candlestick, a specktacle unto y ^e world both to the Angels & unto men. So y ^t , as we to our great comfort do feel, you also may assuredly say with saint Paul, y ^t the things which hap̄ unto us, do chance unto y ^e great furtherance of the Gospel, so y ^t our bonds in christ are manifest, not only throughout all the judgment hall, but in all wholl Europa, in so much that many of the brethren in the Lord, being encouraged through our bonds, dare more boldly speak the word without fear. And here in as you have with s. Paul greatly to rejoice, so we do rejoice with you, and we do in deed with you give thanks for this worthy excellent favor of our God, towards you, that christ is thus magnified in you, yea and hereafter shall be magnified in your bodies, whether it be through life or death. Of which thing truly we are assured in our prayers for you, and ministering of the spirit. And although for your own partes Christ is unto you life, and death advantage, and that your desire is (as in deed it were better for you) to be loosed, and to be w ^t Christ, yet for the Church of Christ were it much more necessary, that ye should abide in the flesh. Yea that merciful God, even for his Christ's sake grant that ye may abide and continue for the furtherance of the Church and rejoicing of faith, that the rejoicing thereof may be the more abundant through Jesus Christ by your restoring, Amen, Amen.

But if it seem better otherwise unto the divine wisdom y ^t by speedy death he hath appointed you to glorify him, y ^e Lord's will be done. Yea even as we do rejoice both on your behalfes, & also on our own, that God is magnified by life, and should be more abundantly glad for the continuance thereof: so we shall no less rejoice to have y ^e same wrought by death. We shall give thanks for this honor given unto you, rejoicing that ye are accounted worthy to suffer for the name of Christ, and that it is given to you of God, not only that ye should believe in him, but also that ye should suffer for his sake. And herein we shall have to rejoice in the behalf of the Church of Christ, whose faith may be the faster fixed upon God's verity, being confirmed with three such worthy witnesses. Oh thanks be to God for this his unspeakable gift.

And now most reverend Fathers, that you may understand the truth of us and our estate howe we stand in the lord, I do assure your reverences, partly by y ^t I perceive by such of our brethren as be here in bonds w ^t me, partly by that I hear of them which be in other places, & partly by that inward experience which I most unworthy wretch have of God's good comfort (more abundance whereof I know there is in others) you may be assured (I say) by God's grace, that you shall not be frustrate of your hope of our constant continuance in the cheerful confession of God's everlasting verity. For even as we have received the word of truth, even the Gospel of our salvation, wherein we believing, are sealed with the holy spirit of promise, which is the earnest of our inheritance (the which spirit certifieth our spirit, that we are the children of God, and therefore God hath sent the spirit of his Son into our harts, crying, Abba, Father) so after such portion as God measureth unto us, we with the whole Church of Christ, and with you reverend fathers, receiving the same spirit of faith, according as it is written: I believed, and therefore I have spoken. We also believe, and therefore speak. For the which we in this dangerous bondage and other afflictions, having even such a fight as we have seen in you and have heard of you, are in no wise afraid of our adversaries.

And forasmuch as we have such an office, even as God hath had mercy on us, we go not out of kind, but evē with you, after our little power, we labor to maintain the faith of the Gospel, knowing most certainly that though we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of this power might be God's and not ours: yet shall we not be dashed in pieces: For the Lord will put his hand under us. [When] we are troubled on every side, yet are we not without shift: [when] we are in poverty, we are not utterly without something: [when] we suffer persecution, we are not forsaken therein: [when] we are cast down, yet we shall not perish: but to communicate with our sweet Savior Christ in bearing the cross, it is appointed unto us, that even with him also we shall be glorified. For it is a true saying: If we be dead with him, we shall also live with him: If we be patient, we shall also reign with him: If we deny him, he shall also deny us. Wherefore be we of good cheer, always bearing about in our body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus might appear also in our body: For we know that he which raised up the Lord Jesus, shall raise up us also by the means of Jesus, and shall join us to himself together with you. Wherefore we are not weeried: but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day. For our tribulation, which is momentane and light, prepareth an exceeding and eternal weight of glory unto us, while we look not on the things which are seen, but on the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen, are temporal: but the things which are not seen, are eternal.

We testify unto you, Reverend fathers, that we draw these waters with joy out of the Wels of the savior. And I trust we shall continually with you bless the Lord, & give thanks to the Lord out of the wels of Israel, we trust to be merry together at that great Supper of the Lamb, whose spouse we are by faith, and there to sing that song of everlasting Haleluyah, Amen. Yea come Lord Jesus. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you, Amen.

Another letter written to his wife, wherein is to be seen how this worthy warrior prepared himself to the appointed fight, and to keep his standing in Christ's Campe.

Laurence Saunders to his wife.

As the said Mayster Saunders was in prison, strayte charge was given to the keeper, that no person should speak with him. His wife yet came to the prison gate with her young child in her arms, to visit her husband. The keeper, though for his charge, he durst not suffer her to come into the prison, yet did he take the little babe out of her arms, and brought him unto his father. Laurence Saunders seeing him, rejoiced greatly, saying, that he rejoiced more to have such a boy, then he should if two thousand pound were given him. And unto the standers by, which praised the goodlines of the child, he said: what man fearing God would not lose this life present, rather then by prolonging it here, he should adjudge this boy to be a Bastard, his wife a whore, and himself a whooremonger? Yea, if there were no other cause, for which a man of my estate should loose his life, yet who would not give it, to avouch this child to be legitimate, and his marriage to be lawful and holy?

I do (good Reader) recite this saying, not only to let thee see what he thought of Priests marriage: but chiefly to let all married couples and parents learn to bear in their bosom true affections: natural, but yet seasoned with the true salt of the spirit, unfeignedly and thoroughly mortified to do the natural works and offices of married couples & parents, so long as with their doing they may keep Christ with a free confessing faith, in a conscience vnfoyled: otherwise, both they and their own lives are so to be forsaken, as Christ required thē to be denied, and givē in his cause,

And now to come to the examination of this good man, alter that the Bishops had kept him one whole year and a quarter in prison, at the length they called him, as they did the rest of his fellows, openly to be examined. Of the which his first examination the effect and purpose thus followeth.

The Examination of Laurence Saunders.

PRaysed be our gracious God who preserveth his from evil, and doth give them grace to avoid all such offenses as might hinder his honor, or hurt his Church. Amen.

Being convented before the Queens most honorable Council, sundry bishops being present, the Lord Chancellor began to speak in such form as followeth.

This examination being ended the officers led him out of the place, & so stayed until the rest of his fellows were likewise handled, that they might have them altogether to prison. Laurence Saunders standing among the Officers seeing there a great multitude of people, opened his mouth and spake freely, warning them well of that, which by their falling from Christ to Antichrist they did deserve, & therefore exhorting them by repentance to rise again, and to embrace Christ with stronger faith, to confess him to the end, in the defiance of Antichrist, sin, death & the devil: so should they retain the Lord's favor and blessing.

The copyes of his other examinations and excommunication came to the hands of such as do keep them still in secret. But in them as he defended Christ's cause stoutly: so warned he the Pharisaical bishops and papists, of their hypocrisy and tyranny freely, and cleared himself of their unjust quarrellinges truly. After he was excommunicate and delivered to the secular power, he was brought by the Shriffe of London, to the prison called the Counter in his own parish in Breadstreet: whereat he rejoiced greatly, both because he found there a fellow prisoner, M. Cardmaker, with whom he had Christian and comfortable conference, and also because out of prison, as before out of a pulpit, he might preach to his parishners: as by his letter here after shall be declared.

THe fourth day of February, the Bishop of London did come to the prisō where he was, to disgrade him: which when he had done, Laurence Saunders said to him: I thank God I am none of your Church.

The day following in the morning, the Shriffe of London delivered him to certain of the Queens Gard, which were appointed to carry him to the City of Couētry, there to be burned. The first night they came to S. Albōs, where M. Grimoald (a man who had more store of good gifts, then of great constancy) did speak with him.

After M. Saunders had given him a lesson meet for his lightness, he took a cup into his hand, and asked him if he would pledge him of that cup, of which he would begin to him. Grimoald by his shrugging and shrinking showing what he was, said: of that cup which is in your hand, I will pledge you: but of that other which you mean, I will not promise you. Well said Mayster Saunders, my dear Lord Jesus Christ hath begun to me of a more bitter cup then mine shall be, and shall I not pledge my most sweet Savior? yes I hope.

After they were come to Coventry, the same night a poor Shoemaker, which was wont to serve him of shoes, came to him after his manner & said: Oh my good Mayster God strengthen and comfort you. Gramercies good Shoemaker, quoth M. Saunders, and I pray thee to pray for me: for I am the vnmeetest man for this high office, that ever was appointed to it: but my gracious God and dear father is able to make me strong enough. That same night he was put into the common Gayle among other prisoners, where he slept little, but spent the night in prayer, and instructing of others.

The next day, which was the viii. of Februarye he was lead to the place of execution in the Parcke without the City, going in an old gown, and a shyerte, barefooted, and afttimes fell flat on the ground and prayed. When he was come nigh to the place, the Officer appointed to see y ^e execution done, said to M. Saunders, that he was one of them which marred the Queens Realm with • alse doctrine and heresy: wherefor thou hast deserved death (quoth he) but yet if thou wilt revoke thy heresies, y ^e Queen hath pardoned thee: if not, yonder fire is prepared for thee. To whom M. Saunders answered: it is not I, nor my fellow Preachers of God's truth, that have hurt the queenes Realm, but it is yourself, & such as you are, which have always resisted God's holy word: it is you which have & do mar the Queens Realm. I do hold no heresies, but the doctrine of God, the blessed Gospel of Christ: that hold I, that believe I, that have I taught, and that will I never revoke. With that this Tormentor cried, away with him and away from him went M. Saunders with a merry courage towards the fire. He fell to the ground, and prayed: he rose up again, & took the stake to which he should be chayned, in his arms and kissed it saying: Welcome the Cross of Christ, welcome everlasting life: and being fastened to the stake, and fire put to him, full sweetly he slepte in the Lord.

And thus have ye the full history of Laurēce Saunders whom I may well compare to S. Laurence, or any other of the old Martyrs of Christ's church: both for the fervent zeal of the truth and Gospel of Christ, & the most constant patience in his suffering: as also for the cruel torments that

And to the intent to give to the Reader to understand the better, what the grace of Christ worketh in his servants, and again, how feeble & weak man is of himself without this grace given from above, though he seem otherwise never so stout in himself: here therefore have we added to the foresaid story of Laurence Saunders, the communication which in the beginning of his trouble, was between him and Doct. Pendleton, by the example whereof, such as stand, may learn to understand and take heed with due fear, & not to brag: to lean to the grace of the Lord, and not to presume in themselves.

A certain communication between Laurence Saunders and Doctor Pendleton, in the beginning of Queen Mary's time.

AT the change of religion in this Realm, and the beginning of Queen Mary's reign, Doct. Pendleton and M. Saunders men known to the world, not only to be learned but also earnest preachers of God's word in the time of blessed king Edward, met together in the country, where by occasiō they were at that time, and as the case required (by reason of the persecution that was then at hand) fell to debate what was best for them to do, in so dangerous a season. Whereupon M. Saunders, whether thorough very frailty in deed of his weak flesh that was loath to taste of the bitter cup, though his spirit were ready thereunto: or whether it were upon the mistrust of his own strength, that he might receive the greater power from above: or whether it were not for any one of the said causes alone, but for both together, or such like: seemed so fearful and feeble spirited, that he shown himself in appearance, like either to fall quite from God and his word, which he had taught, or at least to betake him to his heels and to fly the land, rather then to stick to his profession and abide by his tackle: so as Doctor Pendleton (who on the contrary side, appeared not so big of body, but as bold in courage, nor so earnest before in Pulpit, but as ready now to seal the same with his blood) took upon him to comfort M. Saunders all that he might, admonishing him (as he could do it very well) not to forsake cowardly his flock when he had most need to defend the wolf from them: neither having put to his hand to God's plough, to start now aside and give it over, nor yet (that is worst of all) having once forsakē Antichrist, to fall either himself, or to suffer others by his example to return to their vomit again.

After which and such like persuasions bidding him be of good comfort, and to take a good heart unto him: what man (quoth he) there is a great deal more cause in me to be afeard thē in you, for as much as you see, I carry a greater mass of flesh upon my back then you do, and being so laden with a heavier lump of this vile carcass ought therefore of nature to be more frail then you: & yet saith he, I will see the uttermost drop of this grease of mine moltē away, & the last gobbet of this flesh consumed to ashes, before I will forsake God and his truth. Wherunto the other answering but little, & wishing that almighty God would give him more strength thē he presently felt in himself, acknowledging his own weakness, consēted notwithstanding though it were somewhat fayntly, to join w ^t him in the profession of the Gospel, & so to go up to London & set forth the same: whereupon they gave ech other their hands.

Now when they were come to London, Lord what a great change was there between these two persons. The poor feeble faint hearted Saunders, by the goodness of almighty God, taking heart of grace to him, seeking the same in humility, boldly & stoutly confirmed his flock out of the pulpit, where his charge lay, mightily beating down Antichrist, & lustely preached Christ his master, for the which he afterward suffered most willingly as is afore declared. Whereas on the other side, Pendleton the proud (who, as it appeared by the sequel, had been more stout in words, thē constant in deeds, and a greater bragger, then a good warrior) followed Peter so justly in crackes, howsoever he did in repentance (which God only knoweth) that he came not so soon to London but he changed his tipet, & played y ^e Apostate, preaching in stead of sound doctrine, nothing almost but errors & lies, advancing Antichrist, and overthrowing poor Christ with all his main: so his former boldness came to nothing, unless it were a contrary key, becoming of a faithful pastour a false runagate, and of a true Preacher a sworn enemy of God's everlasting Testament, to the great offense of his brethren, the hurt of his flock, and the utter undoing, with our God's greater mercy, of his own soul. Wherein are specially to be considered the deep and marvelous judgments of God, who as he can and doth make strong whom it pleaseth him, when he seeth his time, & most commonly such as appear most feeblest: even so contrariwise throweth he down other some, seem they never so stout, stand they never so much in their own conceits. Wherefore let him that standeth take heed he fall not, and let us pray continually to almighty God though we have faith, that he will help and increase our faith, that in him it may be made strong, which of it self is so weak, that it is soon overthrown.

This blessed man of God enduring long time in prisō, did not pass all his time in unfruitful idleness, but still frō time to time did visit his friends (as is said) and especially his wife, with many letters full of godly instruction & consolatiō. All which letters it shall not be greatly needful here to insert, partly because they are to be found in the book of letters, partly because we intend also (if God will) to prosecute the same more at large. In the mean time it shall not be out of place here presently to comprehend certain of them, as in order followeth.

A letter sent to M. Farrar Bishop of S. David's, Doctor Tailor, M. Bradford, and M. Philpot.

GRace, mercy and peace, in Jesus Christ our Lord. &c. Good fathers and dear brethren, be thankful unto our most gracious God, which hath preserved us, and shall (I doubt not) from blaspheming his blessed name: yea not only that, but also ex ore Infantium & Lactentium perficiet laudem. &c. i. Out of the mouths of very babes and sucklinges shall be set forth his praise. They offer us (forsooth) our liberty & pardon, so that we will rise with them unto that faith which we with them were fallen from. Yea or no, must be answered in hast. They will not admit any need full circumstances, but all (as heretofore) most detestable & abhominable. Rise with them we must unto the unity. And pardon (say I) of me must not be so dearly purchased. A pardon I desire, for to live with an vnclogged conscience. The Donatists (say they) sought for such singularitye, but they were not meet to live in a common wealth, no more be you, as you shall shortly understand. Wherefore away with him, yea the time was named within this seven night. There be 12. hours in the day. Death shall be welcome (say I) as being looked for long since, and yet do justice ye were best, for Abel's blood cried ye wot what. The spirit of God be upon you, & God save your honors. Thus departed I from thē. Pray, pray. Ah, ah, pure sum, nescio loqui. i. I am a child, I cannot speak. My brother P. shall show you more herein. By him send me word what you have done. Fare ye well, and pray, pray, I would gladly meet with my good brother Bradford, on the backside about 11. of the clock. Before that time I cannot start out, we have such outwalkers, but then will they be at dinner.

A Letter which L. Saunders did write to his wife, and others of the faithful, after his condemnation to the fire, written the last of Ianua. 1555. out of the Counter in Breadstreete.

THe grace of Christ, w ^t the consolation of the holy Ghost, to the keeping of faith and a good conscience, cōfirm & keep you forever vessels to God's glory. Amen.

Oh what worthy thanks can be givē to our gracious God for his immeasurable mercies plentifully poured vpō us? And I most unworthy wretch cannot but pour forth at this present, evē from the bottom of my heart, the bewailing of my great ingratitude and unkindness towards so gracious a good God and loving father. I beseech you all, as for my other many sins, so especially for that sin of my unthankfulness, crave pardon for me in your earnest prayers, commendyng me to God's great mercies in Christ.

To number these mercies in particular, where to number the drops of water which are in the Sea, the sandes on the shore, the stars in the sky, O my dear wife & ye the rest of my friends, rejoice with me, I say rejoice w ^t thanksgeuing for this my present promotion, in that I am made worthy to magnify my God, not only in my life by my slow mouth & vncircūcised lips, bearing witness unto his truth, but also by my blood to seal the same, to the glory of my God, and confirming of his true church. And as yet I testify unto you, that the comfort of my sweet Christ doth drive from my phantasy the fear of death. But if my dear husband Christ do for my trial, leave me alone a little to myself, alas I know in what case I shall be thē: but if for my proof he do so, yet am I sure he will not be long or far from me. Though he stand behind the wall & hide himself (as Salomō saith in his mystical ballet) yet will he peep in by a crest to see how I do. He is a very tender hearted Joseph: though he speak roughly to his brethren & handle thē hardly, yea & threatē grievous bondage to his best beloved brother Benjamin: yet can he not contain himself from weeping with us & upon us, with falling on our necks, and sweetly kissing us. Such, such a brother is our Christ unto us all. Wherefore hasten to go unto him as Jacob did with his Sons and family, leaving their country and acquaintance. Yea this our Joseph hath obtained for us, that Pharaoh the Infidel shall minister unto us chariots, wherein at ease we may be carried to come unto him: as we have experience how our very adversaries do help us unto our everlasting bliss by their spedy dispatch, yea & how all things have been helpinges hereunto: blessed be our God. Be not afraid of fraybugges which lie in the way. Fear rather the everlasting fire: fear the Serpent which hath that deadly sting of which by bodily death they shall be brought to taste which are not grafted in Christ, wanting faith and a good conscience, and so are not acquainted with Christ the killer of death. But oh my dear wife and friends, we, we whom God hath delivered from the power of darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom of his dear son, by putting of the old man, & by faith putting on the new, even our Lord Jesus Christ, his wisdom, holiness, righteousness & redemption, we I say have to triumph against the terrible spiteful Serpent the Devil, sin, hell, death & damnation. For Christ our brazen Serpent hath pulled away the sting of this serpent, so that now we may boldly in beholding it spoiled of his sting, triumph & with our Christ & all his elect say: Death where is thy sting? Hell where is thy victory? Thanks be to God, who hath given us [Vs] the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Wherefore be merry my dear wife, & all my dear fellow heirs of the everlasting kingdom always remember the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, continue in prayer, & pray for us now appointed to the slaughter y ^t we may be unto our heavenly father, a fat offering, and an acceptable sacrifice. I may hardly write to you. Wherefore let these few words be a witness of commendations to you and all them which love us in faith, and namely unto my flock, among whom I am resident by God's providence, but as a prisoner.

And although I am not so among them, as I have been to preach to them out of a pulpit, yet doth god now preach unto them by me, by this my imprisonment and captivity which now I suffer among them for Christ's Gospelles sake, bidding them to beware of the Romish Antichristian religion and kingdom, requiring and charging them to abide in the truth of Christ, which is shortly to be sealed w ^t the blood of their Pastor: who though he be unworthy of such a ministry, yet Christ there high pastor is to be regarded, whose truth hath been taught thē by me, is witnessed by my chains, & shall be by my death, through the power of that hye pastor. Be not careful good wife, cast your care on the Lord, & commend me unto him in repentant prayer, as I do you and our Samuel: whom even at the stake, I will offer as myself unto God. Fare ye well all in Christ, in hope to be joined w ^t you in joy everlasting. This hope is put up in my bosom, Amen, Amen, Amen, Pray, pray.

*An other Letter to Maystres Lucy Harington, a Godly Gentlewoman, and friendly to him in his troubles.

YOur most gentle commendations, whereof this messenger made remembrance unto me, was for two causes very comfortable. First, for that thereby I understood of the state of your health & bodily welfare, for the which I give thanks unto god, who grant the long continuance thereof to his honor and fatherly good will, whereunto I will daily say, Amen. And farther I was refreshed by the expressing of your mindful friendship towards me far unworthy thereof. Wherein I take occasion of much rejoicing in our so gracious a God and merciful Father, who as he hath in his immeasurable mercy by faith handfasted us his chosen childrē unto his dear son our Christ, as the spiritual spouse of such an heavenly husband: so he linketh us by love one unto another, being by that bond cōpact together with charitable readiness to do good one unto another: so that first to the glory of our God & his Christ, thē to our own joying in the testimony of a good conscience, and last of all to the stopping of the mouths and confusiō of our adversaries, we bear the badge as the right spouse of our Christ, which himself noted in this saying: Herein shall all men know that ye be my Disciples, if ye love one another. Then farther, by this bond of mutual love, is set forth the fatherly providence of God towards us his children, that though it be he that careth for us, in whom we live, move and be, who feedeth all flesh with bodily sustenance, yet hath he appointed us in these present necessities, to stand in his stead one unto another. Wherein is not only set forth our dignity, but also that unspeakable accord and unity among us the many members in his mystical body. And though that either for lack of ability, or else through distance of place, power and opportunity of helping one another do fail: yet wonderful is the working of God's children through the spirit of prayer, as whereby they fetch all heavenly influence frō Christ their celestial head by his spirit▪ to be measured severally as may serve to the maintenance of the whole body.

Thus doth our faithful prayer which we make one for another, distribute and scater God's bountiful blessings both ghostly and bodily, when ordinary ability lacketh, and when the arm may not reach forth such God's riches. According hereunto I well perceive and understand your readiness to do good unto all, and especially I have experience of your ready good will towards me in your hartye desire to stretch out your helping hand to relieve my lack, and of your help to be extended to me in the other spiritual sort by your good prayer, I doubt not: as I also therein assure you of my help, being all that I may do, & yet the same not so much as I would do.

My need concerning bodily necessaryes, is as yet furnished by God's provision, so that I am not drivē to any extremity wherefor to be burdenous to you, as your gentle benevolence provoketh me, the Lord reward you therefore. If God make me worthy to be eis witness at this present, in giving this corruptible body to burn for the testimony of his truth, it is enough for me to say unto you that I have a poor wife and child whom I love in the Lord, and whom I know for my sake you will tender when I am departed hence. &c.

An other Letter to Maystres Lucy Harrington.

Furthermore as touching his fatherly care & affection to his wife and his little child, the same is lively set forth in another letter, which he did write to his wife: wherein he admonished her, that she should not resort much to the prison, where he was, for danger of trouble that might ensue, the tenor of whose letter here followeth.

An other letter to his wife with a certain remembrance to M. Harrington and M. Hurland.

GRace and comfort. &c. Wife you shall do best not to come often unto the Grate where the Porter may see you. Putte not yourself in danger where it needs not: you shall I think, shortly come far enough into danger by keeping faith and a good conscience: which (dear wife) I trust you do not slack to make reckoning and account upon by exercising your inward man in meditation of God's most holy word, being the sustenance of the soul, and also by giving yourself to humble prayer: for these two things be very means how to be made members of our Christ meet to inherit his kingdom.

Do this (dear wife) in earnest, and not leaving of, and so we two shall with our Christ and all his chosen children, enjoy the merry world in that everlasting immortality, whereas here will nothing else be found but extreme misery, even of them which most greedely seek this worldly wealth: and so, if we two continue God's children graffed in our Christ, the same God's blessing which we receive, shall also settle upon our Samuel. Though we do shortly depart hence and leave the poor Infant (to our seeming) at all adventures, yet shall he have our gracious God to be his God: for so hath he said and he cannot lie: I will be thy God (saith he) and the God of thy seed. Yea if you leave him in the w • ldernes destitute of all help, being called of God to do his will either to die for the confession of Christ, either any work of obedience: that God which heard the cry of the little poor infant of Agar Saraes handmayden and did succor it, will do the like to the child of you or any other fearing him and putting your trust in him. And if we lack faith (as we do in deed many times) let us call for it and we shall have the increase both of it and also of any other good grace needful for us: and be merry in GOD, in who also I am very merry and joyful. O Lord what great cause of rejoicing have we, to think vpō that kingdom which he voucheth safe for his Christ's sake, freely to give us, forsaking our selves and following him? Deare wife this is truly to follow him, even to take up our cross and follow him, and then as we suffer with him, so shall we reign with him everlastingly. Amen. Shortly, Shortly, Amen.

*An other letter to his wife, to Mayster Robert Harrington, M Hurland. &c.

GRace and comfort, &c. Deare wife rejoice in our gracious God, and his our Christ, and give thanks moste humbly and heartily to him for this days work, that in any part I most unworthy wretch should be made worthy to bear witness unto his everlasting verity, which Antichrist with his, by main force (I perceive) and by moste impudent pride and boasting, will go about to suppres. Remember God always my dear wife, and so shall gods blessing light upon you and our Samuel. O remember alway my words for Christ's sake: be merry and grudge not against God, and pray, pray. We be all merry here thanks be unto God, who in his Christ hath givē us great cause to be merry, by whō he hath prepared for us such a kingdom, and doth and will give unto us some little taste thereof, evē in this life, and to all such as are desirous to take it. Blessed (saith our Christ) be they which hunger and thirst after righteousness, for such shall be satisfied. Let us go, yea let us run to seek such treasure, and that with whole purpose of heart to cleave unto the Lord, to find such Riches in his heavenly word through his spirit obtained by prayer. My dear Frendes and Brethren Mayster Harryngton and Mayster Hurland, pray, pray. Spiritus quidem promptus est, caro autem infirma. That is. The spirit is ready, but the flesh is weak. When I look upon myself, quid ego stupidus & attonitus habeo quod dicam, nisi illud Petri, exi a me Domine quia homo peccator sum? i. Being astonished and confounded, what have I else to say, but those words of Peter: Lord go from me: for I am a sinful man? But then feel I that sweet comfort: Lucerne pedibus meis verbum Domini, lumen semitis meis, & haec mea est consolatio in humilitate mea. i. The word of the Lord is a Lantern to my feet, and a light unto my paths: and this is my comfort in my trouble. Then wax I bold with the same Peter to say: Domine ad quem ibimus, verba vitae aeternae habes. i. Lord to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of everlasting life. This comfort have I when the giver thereof doth give it. But I look for battles with the root of unfaithfulness, the which I feel in me, will most eagerly give unto my conscience, when we come once to the combat. We be (I wene) within the sound of the triumpe of our enemies. Play ye that be abroad the part of Moses, Orantes in omni loco, sustollentes puras manus. i. Praying in all places, lifting up pure hands, & God's people shall prevail: yea our blood shall be their perditiō who do most triumphantly spill it, & we then being in the hands of our God, shall shine in his kingdom, and shall stand in great steadfastness, against thē which have dealt extremely with us: And whē these our enemies shall thus see us, they shall be vexed with horrible fear, and shall wonder at the hastiness of the sudden health, and shall say with themselves, having inward sorrow and mourning for very anguish of mind: These are they whom we sometime had in derision and jested upon: we fools thought their lives to be very madness, and their end to be without honor, but loe how they are accounted among the childrē of God. The blessing of God be with you all. &c.

To his wife a little before his burning.

GRace and comfort in Christ, Amen. Deare wife be merry in the mercies of our Christ, & ye also my dear friends. Pray, pray for us everybody. We be shortly to be dispatched hence unto our good Christ. Amen, Amen. Wife I would you sent me my shyrte which you know whereunto it is consecrated. Let it be sowed down on both the sides and not open. Oh my heavenly father look upon me in the face of thy Christ, or else I shall not be able to abide thy countenance: such is my filthiness. He will do so, and therefore I will not be afraid what sin, death, hell, and damnation cā do against me. O Wyfe always remember the Lord. God bless you, yea he will bless thee good wife & thy poor boy also: only cleave thou unto him, and he will give thee all things. Pray, pray, pray.

An other letter to M. Robert and John Glover, written the same morning that he was burnt.

After these godly letters of M. Saunders diversely dispersed and sent abroad to diverse of the faithful congregation of Christ, as is afore to be seen, now in the latter end we will adjoin two other letters writ̄ not by Mayster Saunders the martyr, but by M. Ed. Saunders the Justice his brother, sent to this our Saunders in prison, although containing no great matter worthy to be known, yet to this intent that the reader may see in these two brethren so joined in nature, and so divided in religiō, y ^e word of the Lord verified, truly saying: brother shall be against brother. &c. as by the contents of these two letters following may appear.

A letter of Justice Saunders, to his brother Laurence.

AFter my most hearty commendations, these been to a certain you that I have spoken with M. Basset, who hath shown me that 4. pound (all deductions being allowed) is the whole that hath come to his hands of the profit of the Prebēdary at York, the which you shall have although as he thinketh, it was not due unto you by the reason of your deprivation: before it was due. As concerning your conscience in Religion, I beseech God it may be lightened by the holy Ghost, and that you may also have the grace of the holy Ghost to follow the counsel of Saint Paul to Timothy. 2. Recte tractare verbum veritatis. That is. To handle rightly the word of truth. Wherein you ar dissenting from many holy and Catholic men, especielly in the Sacrament, maketh me in my conscience to condemn yours. For although I have not hitherto fancied to read Peter Martyr & other such. &c. yet have I had great desire to see Theophilact and diverse others of his sort and opinion both notable and holy Fathers (if any credit be given to the writings of our ancient fathers before us) and surely the sentences and judgments of two or three of them hath more confirmed my conscience then 300. of the Zwinglians or as many of the Lutherians can or should do. Thus in haste willing to relief you to the end you might convert, if you shall need towards your finding, if you shall require it of me, you shall unfeignedly find my money ready, as knoweth our Lord, who send us all things good for us. Scribled this Thursday by your brother and petitioner to God.

An other letter of Justice Saunders to his brother wherein he seeketh to win him to Popery.

AS nature and Brotherly love with godly charity requireth, I send you by these letters (quantum licet) most hearty commendation, being sory for your fault and your disobedient handling of yourself towards my Lord Chancellor, who I assure you, mindeth your good and preservation, if you can so consider and take it. I would be glad to know whether you have not had with you of late some learned men to talk with you by my Lord Chaūcellours appointment, and howe you can frame yourself to reform your error in the opinion of the moste blessed and our most comfortable Sacrament of the alter. Wherein I assure you I was never in all my life more better affected then I am at this present, using to my great comfort hearing of Mass, and somewhat before the sacring time, the meditation of S. Barnard, set forth in the third leaf of this present book. The accustomable using whereof I am fully professed unto during my life, and to give more faith unto that confessiō of holy Barnarde, thē to Luther &c. or Latimer. &c. for that the antiquity, the universality of the open church, and the consent of all holy Saynts and Doctors do confirm the same, acertayning you that I have been earnestly moved in mine own conscience these ten or twelve days past, and also between God and myself, to move you to the same, most earnestly desiring you, and as you tender my natural, godly, or friendly love towards you, that you would read over this book this holy time, at my request, although you have already seen it, and let me know wherein you cannot satisfy your own conscience. Thus fare you well for this time.

The Life and Martyrdom of Mayster JOHN HOOPER Bishop of Worcester and Gloucester, burnt for the defense of the Gospel at Gloucester. Anno. 1555. February. 9.

JOHN HOOPER Student and graduate in the university of Oxford, after the study of other sciēces, wherein he had abundantly profited and proceeded, through God's secret vocation was stirred with fervent desire to the love & knowledge of the Scriptures. In the reading & seaching whereof, as there lacked in him no diligence, joined with earnest prayer: so neither wanted unto him the grace of the holy Ghost to satisfy his desire, and to opē unto him the light of true Divinity.

Thus Mayster Hooper growing more and more by God's grace, in ripeness of spiritual understanding, and showing withal some sparckles of his fervent spirit being then about the beginning of the 6. Articles, in the time of king Henry the 8. fell eftsoons into displeasure & hatred of certain Rabbin's in Oxford, who by and by began to styr coals against him, whereby, and especially by the procurement of Doctor Smith, he was compelled to void the Uniuersity, and so removing from thence, was retained in the house of Syr Thomas Arundell, and there was his Steward, till the time that Syr Thomas Arundell having intelligence of his opinions & religion, which he in no case did favor, and yet exceedingly fauouryng the person & conditions of the man, found the means to send him in a message to the Bishop of Winchester, writing his letter privily to the bishop, by conference of learning to do some good upon him, but in any case requiring him to send home his servant to him again.

Winchester after long conference with M. Hooper 4. or 5. days together, when he at length perceived that neither he could do that good, which he thought, to him, nor that he would take any good at his hand, according to M. Arundels request, he sent home his servant again, right well commending his learning and wit, but yet bearing in his breast a grudging stomach against Mayster Hooper still.

It followed not long after this (as malice is always working mischief) that intelligence was given to master Hooper to provide for himself, for danger that was working against him. Whereupon M. Hooper leaving M. Arundels house, and borrowing an horse of a certain friend (whose life he had saved a little before from the gallows) took his journey to the Sea side, to go to France, sending back the horse again by one, which in deed did not deliver him to the owner. M. Hoper being at Paris tarried there not long, but in short time returned into England again, & was retained of M. Sentlow, till the time that he was again molested and laid for: whereby he was compelled (under the pretence of being Captayne of a ship going to Ireland) to take the Seas, and so escaped he (although not without extreme peril of drowning) through France, to the higher partes of Germany. Where he entering acquaintance with the learned men, was of thē freēdly and lovingly entertained, both at Basil, and especially at Zurich of Mayster Bullinger, being his singular friend. Where also he married his wife, which was a Burgonian, and applied very studiously the Hebrew tongue.

At length when God saw it good to stay the bloody time of the 6. Articles, and to give us king Edward to reign over this Realm, with some peace and rest unto the gospel, amongst many other English exiles, which thē repared homeward, M. Hooper also, moved in conscience, thought not to absent himself, seeing such a time and occasion offered to help forward the Lord's work, to the uttermost of his ability. And so coming to M. Bullinger, and other of his acquayntance in Zurich (as duty required) to give them thanks for their singular kindness and humanity toward him manifold ways declared, with like humanity again purposed to take his leave of thē at his departing, & so did. Unto whom M. Bullinger again (who had always a special favor to M. Hooper) spake on this wise: M. Hooper (said he) although we are sory to parte with your company for our own cause, yet much greater causes we have to rejoice, both for your sake, and especially for the cause of Christ's true religion, that you shall now return out of long banishment unto your native country again, where not only you may enjoy your own private liberty but also the cause and state of Christ's Church by you may fare the better as we doubt not but it shall.

An other cause moreover why we rejoice with you & for you, is this, that you shall remove not only out of exile, into liberty: but you shall leave here a barren, a sower, & an unpleasant country, rude & savage, and shall go into a land flowing with milk and honey, replenished w ^t all pleasure & fertility. Notwithstanding w ^t this our rejoicing, one fear and care we have, least you being absent, and so far distant from us, or else coming to such abundance of wealth & felicity, in your new welfare, and plenty of all things, and in your flourishing honors, where ye shall come peradventure to be a Bishop, and where ye shall find so many new friends, you will forget us your old acquaintance & welwillers. Neuertheles howsoever you shall forget & shake us of, yet this persuade yourself, y ^t we will not forgette our old friend & fellow M. Hooper. And if you shall please not to forget us again, then I pray you let us hear from you.

Whereunto M. Hooper answering again, first gave to M. Bullinger and the rest right hearty thanks, for that their singular good will, and undeserved affection, appearing not only now, but at all times towards him: declaring moreover that as the principal cause of his removing to his country was the matter of Religion: so touching the vnpleasantnes and barrenness of that country of theirs, there was no cause therein, why he could not find in his heart to continue his life there, as soon as in any place in the world, and rather then in his own native country, if there were nothing else in his conscience that moved him so to do. And as touching the forgetting of his old friends, although (said he) the remembrance of a man's country naturally doth delight him, neither could he deny, but god had blessed his country of England with many great commodities: yet neither the nature of country nor pleasure of commodities, nor newness of friends should over induce him to the oblivion of such friends and benefactors, whō he was so entirely bound unto: & therefore you shall be sure (said he) from time to time to hear from me, and I will write unto you as it goeth with me. But the last news of all I shall not be able to write: for there (said he) taking M. Bullinger by the hand) where I shall take most pains, there shall you hear of me to be burned to ashes: and that shall be the last news which I shall not be able to write unto you, but you shall hear it of me. &c.

To this also may be added another like prophetical demonstration, forshewing before the manner of his Martyrdom wherewith he should glorify God, which was this. When M. Hooper being made Bishop of Worcester and Gloucester should have his arms givē him by the Herold, as the manner is here in England, every Bishop to have his arms assigned unto him (whether by the appointment of M. Hoper, or by y ^e Herold I have not certainly to say) but the arms which were to him allotted was this: a Lamb in a fiery bush, and the sun beams from heaven descending down upon the Lamb, rightly deuoting (as it seemed) the order of his suffering, which afterward followed.

But now to the purpose of our story again: Thus whē M. Hooper had taken his farewell of M. Bullinger and his friends in Zurich, he made his repair again into Enland in the reign of K. Edward 6. where he coming to London used continually to preach, most times twice, at least once every day, and never failed.

In his Sermons, according to his accustomed manner, he corrected sin, and sharply inueyed against the iniquity of the world, and corrupt abuses of the Church. The people in great flocks and companies, daily came to hear his voice, as the most melodious sound and tune of Orpheus harp, as the Proverb saith: Insomuch that often times, when he was preaching, the Church should be so full, that none could enter further then the doors thereof. In his doctrine he was earnest, in tongue eloquent, in the scriptures perfect, in pains indefatigable.

Moreover, besides other his gifts and qualities, this is in him to be marvelled, that even as he began so he continued still unto his lives end. For neither could his labor and pain taking break him, neither promotion change him, neither daynty fare corrupt him. His life was so pure and good, that no kind of sclaūder (although diverse went about to reprove it) could fast̄ any fault vpō him. He was of body strong, his health whole & sound, his wit very pregnant, his invincible patience able to sustain whatsoever sinister fortune and adversity could do. He was constant of judgment, a good Justicer, spare of diet, sparer of words, & sparest of time. In housekeping very liberal, and sometime more free then his living would extend unto. Briefly, of all those virtues and qualities required of S. Paul in a good B. in his epistle to Timothy, I know not one in this good B. lacking. He bare in countenaūce & talk always a certain severe & grave grace, which might peradventure be wished sometimes to have been a little more populare and vulgarlike in him: but he knew what he had to do best himself.

This by the way I thought to note, for that there was once an honest Citizen, & to me not unknown, which having in himself a certain conflict of conscience, came to his door for counsel: but being abashed at his austere behavior durst not come in, but departed, seeking remedy of his troubled mind at other men's hands, which he afterward by y ^e help of almighty God did find & obtayn. Therefore in my judgment, such as are appointed & made governors over y ^e flock of Christ, to teach and instruct them, ought so to frame their life, manners, countenance and external behavior, as neither they show themselves to familiar & light whereby to be brought in contempt, nor in the other side again, that they appear more lofty and rigorous, then appertaineth to the edifying of the simple flock of Christ. Neuertheles, as every mā hath his peculiar gift wrought in him by nature, so this disposition of fatherly gravity in this man neither was excessive, neither did he bear that personage which was in him without great consideratiō. For it seemed to him peradventure, that this licentious and unbridled life of the common sort, ought to be chastened, not only with words and discipline, but also with the grave and severe countenance of good men.

After he had thus practiced himself in this popular and common kind of preaching: at length, and that not without the great profit of many, he was called to preach before the kings majesty, and soon after, made Bishop of Gloucester by the kings commandment. In that office he continued two years, and behaved himself so well, that his very enemies (except it were for his good doings, and sharp correcting of sin) could find no fault with him: and after that he was made Bishop of Worcester.

But I cannot tell what sinister & unlucky contention concerning the ordering and consecration of Bishops, and of their apparel, with such other like trifles, began to disturb y ^e good & lucky beginning of this godly bishop. For notwithstanding that godly reformation of religion then begun in the church of England, besides other ceremonies more ambitious then profitable or tending to edification, they used to wear such garments and apparel as the popish Bishops were wont to do: first a Chymere, & under that a white Rochet: then a Mathematical cap with iv. angles, deviding the whole world into four partes. These trifles tending more to superstition thē otherwise, as he could never abide, so in no wise could he be persuaded to wear them. For this cause he made supplication to the kings majesty, most humbly desiring his highness, either to discharge him of the bishopric, or else to dispense with him for such ceremonial orders. Whose petition the king granted immediately, writing his letter to the Archb. after this tenor.

The Kings letters or grant, for the dispensation of John Hooper elected B. of Gloucester, written to the Archbishop of Canterbury and other Bishops.

Besides this letter of the king, also the Earl of Warwick (which was afterward D. of Northumberland) adjoined his letter to the foresaid Archb. of Cant. to this purpose and effect, that M. Hooper might not be burdened with the oth used then commonly in the consecratiō of bishops, which was against his conscience, as by the purport of the letter here is to be seen, as followeth.

Both this grant of the King, and also the Earls letters aforesaid notwithstanding, the bishops still stood earnestly in the defense of the foresaid ceremonies, saying it was but a small matter, and that the fault was in the abuse of the things, and not in the things themselves: adding moreover, that he ought not to be so stubborn in so light a matter, and that his willfulness therein was not to be suffered.

To be short, whilst both parties thus contended about this matter more then reason would, in the mean time occasion was given, as to the true Christians to lament, so to the adversary to rejoice. In conclusion, this Theological contentiō came to this end, that the bishops having the upper hand, M. Hooper was fain to agree to this condition, that sometimes he should in his Sermon show himself appareled as the other Bishops were. Wherefore, appointed to preach before the king as a new player in a strange apparel, he cometh forth on the stage. His upper garment was a long scarlet Chymere down to the foot, and under that a white linen Rochet that covered all his shoulders. Upon his head he had a Geometriall, that is, a four squared cap, albeit that his head was round. What cause of shame the straungenes hereof was that day to that good preacher, every mā may easily judge. But this private contumely and reproach in respect of the public profit of the Church, which he only sought, he bare and suffered patiently. And I would to God in like manner, they which took upon them the other part of that tragedy, had yielded their private cause whatsoever it was to the public concord and edifieng of the Church: for no man in all the City, was one hair the better for that hot contention.

I will name nobody, partly for that his oppugners being afterwards joined in the most sure friendship with him, in one & for one cause, suffered martyrdom, and partly for that I commonly use according to my accustomed manner, to keep my pen from presumptuous judging of any person: yet I thought to note the thing for this consideration, to admonish the reader hereby, how wholesome & necessary the cross of Christ is sometime in the church of Christ, as by the sequel hereof did afterward appear. For as in a civil governance & common wealth, nothing is more occasion of war, then overmuch peace: so in the church, and among churchmen, as nothing is more pernicious then too much quietness, so nothing more ceaseth private contentions oftentimes rising amongst thē, then the public cross of persecution.

Furthermore, so I persuaded myself, the same not to be vnexpedient, to have extant such examples of holy and blessed men. For if it do not a little appertain to our public consolation and comfort, when we read in the scriptures of the foul dissension between Paul and Barnabie: of the fall of Peter, and of David's murder and adultery: why may or should it not be as well profitable for our posterity, to hear and know the falls of these godly Martyrs, whereby we may the less despair in our infirmity, considering the same or greater infirmities to reign in the holy Saints of God, both Prophets, Apostles, and Martyrs.

And this by the way, thou hast heard (good Reader) hitherto the weakness of these good men, plainly and simply, as the truth was, declared unto thee, to the ende their fall may minister occasion to us, either of eschewyng the like, or else to take heart and comfort in the like fall & frailenes of ours. Now again on the other part it remaineth to record after the foresaid discord, the godly reconciliations of these good men in time of persecution, who afterward being in prison for the truths sake, reconciled them selves again with most godly agreement, as appeareth by this letter sent by Bishop Ridley, to the said Bishop of Gloucester. The copy whereof as it was written with his own hand in Latin, hereafter followeth translated into English.

To my dear brother and reverend fellow Elder in Christ, John Hooper, grace and peace.

M. Hooper after all these tumults and vexations sustained about his investing and priestly vestures, at length entering into his Dioces, did there employ his time which the Lord lent him under King Edward's reign, with such diligence, as may be a spectacle to all bishops, which shall ever hereafter succeed him, not only in that place, but in whatsoever Dioces through the whole realm of England, so careful was he in his Cure, that he left neither pains untaken, nor ways unsought, how to trayne up the flock of Christ in the true word of salvation, continually laboring in the same. Other men commonly are wont for lucre or promotions sake, to aspire to Bishoprics, some hunting for them, and some purchasing or buying them, as men use to purchase Lordships, & when they have them, are loath to leave them, and thereupon also loath to commit that thing by worldly laws, whereby to loose them.

To this sort of men M. Hooper was clean contrary, who abhorred nothing more then gain, laboring always to save and preserve the souls of his flock. Who being B. of two Dioceses, so ruled and guided either of them, and both together, as though he had in charge but one family. No father in his household, no gardener in his garden, nor husbandman in his vineyard, was more or better occupied, then he in his Dioces amongst his flock, going about his towns and villages in teaching and preaching to the people there.

That time that he had to spare from preaching, he bestowed either in hearing public causes, or else in private study, prayer, and visiting of schools, with his continual doctrine, he adjoined due & discrete correction, not so much severe to any, as to them which for abundance of riches, & wealthy state, thought they might do what they listed. And doubtless he spared no kind of people, but was indifferent to all men, as well rich as poor, to the great shame of no small number of men nowadays. Whereof many we do see so addicted to the pleasing of great and rich men, that in the mean time they have no regard to the meaner sort of poor people, whom Christ hath bought as dearly as the other.

But now again we will return our talk to master Hooper, all whose life in fine was such, that to the church and all churchmen, it might be a light and example, to the rest a perpetual lesson and sermon. Finally, how virtuous and good a bishop he was, ye may conceive and know evidently by this: that even as he was hated of none but of them which were evil, so yet the worst of them all could not reprove his life in any one jot.

I have now declared hi • usage and behavior abroad in the public affairs of the Church: and certainly there appeared in him at home no less example of a worthy prelates life. For although he bestowed & converted the most part of his care upon the public flock and congregation of Christ, for the which also he spent his blood: yet nevertheless there lacked no prouisiō in him, and to bring up his own children in learning and good manners: even so much that ye could not discern whether he deserved more praise for his fatherly usage at home, or for his bishoply doings abroad. For everywhere he kept one religion in one uniform doctrine and integrity. So that if you entered into the Bishops palace, you would suppose to have entered in to some Church or temple. In every corner thereof, there was some smell of virtue, good example, honest conversation, and reading of holy scriptures. There was not to be seen in his house any courtly roystyng or idleness: no pomp at all, no dishonest word, no swearing could there be heard.

As for the revenues of both his bishoprikes, although they did not greatly exceed, as the matter was handled, yet if anything surmounted thereof, he pursed nothing, but bestowed it in hospitality. Twise I was (as I remember) in his house in Worcester, where in his common hall I saw a table spread with good store of meat, and beset full of beggars and poor folk: and I asking his servants what this meant, they told me that every day their Lord & masters manner was, to have customably to dinner a certain number of poor folk of the said city by course, who were served by four at a mess, with hot & wholesome meats: and when they were served (being afore examined by him or his deputies of the Lord's prayer, the articles of their faith, and x. commandments) then he himself sat down to dinner, and not before.

After this sort and manner M. Hooper executed y ^e office of a most careful and vigilant pastor, by the space of two years and more, so long as the state of religion in K. Edwards time did safely flourish and take place: and would God that all other bishops would use the like diligence, care, and observance in their function. After this, K. Edward being dead, and Mary being crowned Queen of England, religion being subverted & changed, this good B. was one of the first that was sent for by a pursiuant to be at London, and that for two causes.

First, to answer to D. Heath then appointed Bish. of that Dioces, who was before in K. Edwards days deprived thereof for papistry.

Secondarily, to render account to D. Boner Bishop of London, for that he in King Edward's time was one of his accusers, in that he shown himself not conformable to such ordinances as were prescribed to him by the king and his Counsayle, openly at Paul's Cross. And although the said M. Hooper was not ignorant of the evils that should happen towards him (for he was admonished by certain of his friends to get him away and shift for himself) yet he would not prevent them, but tarried still, saying: Once I did flee and took me to my feet, but now, because I am called to this place and vocation, I am thoroughly persuaded to tarry, and to live and die with my sheep.

And when at the day of his appearance (which was the first of September) he was come to London, before he could come to the foresaid D. Heath and Boner, he was intercepted & commanded violently against his will to appear before the Queen and her Counsaile, to answer to certain bonds and obligations, wherein they said he was bound unto her. And when he came before thē, Winchester by and by received him very opprobriously, and railing and ratyng of him, accused him of Religion. He again freely and boldly told his tale, and purged himself. But in fine it came to this conclusion, that by them he was commanded to Ward (it being declared unto him by his departure, that the cause of his imprisonment was only for certain sums of money, for the which he was indebted to the Queen, and not for religion.) This how false and untrue it was, shall hereafter in his place more plainly appear.

The next year, being 1554. the 19. of Marche, he was called again to appear before Winchester and other the Queens Commissioners: where, what for the Bishop, and what for the unruly multitude, when he could not be permitted to plead his cause, he was deprived of his Bishoprikes. Which how, & in what order it was done, here now followeth to be seen by the testimony and report of one, which being present at the doing, committed the same to writing.

A letter or report of a certain godly man, declaring the order of M. Hoopers deprivation from his Bishoprike. An. 1554. March. 19.

FOr so much as a rumor is spread abroad of the talk had at my L. Chuancellours, between him with other Commissioners there appointed, and M. Hooper clean contrary to the verity and truth thereof in deed, and therefore to be judged rather to be risen of malice, for the discrediting of the truth by false suggestions and evil reports, then otherwise, I thought it my duty, b • yng present thereat myself, in writing to set forth the whole effect of the same: partly that the verity thereof may be known to the doubtful people, and partly also to advertise them, how uncharitably M. Hooper was handled at their hands: which with all humility used himself towards them, desiring that with patience he might have been permitted to speak, assuryng all men, that where I stood in a mammeryng and doubt, which of these two religions to have credited, either that set forth by the kings majesty that dead is, or else that now maintained by the Queens majesty,, their vnreuerend behavior towards M. Hooper, doth move me the rather to credit his doctrine, then that which they with railing and cruel words defended, considering that Christ was so handled before. And that this which I have written here, was the effect of their talk, as I acknowledge it to be true myself: so I appeal to all the hearers consciences, that there were present, (so they put affection away) for the witness to the same.

The Bishops of Wint. of London, of Duresme, of Landaffe, of Chichester, sat as Commissioners.

The matter concerning marriage, was no more talked of then for a great space: but as well the Commissioners, as such as stood by, began to make such outcries, & laughed, and used such gesture as was unseemly for the place, and for such a matter. The Bishop of Chichester D. Day, called M. Hooper hypocrite, with vehement words, and scornful countenance. Bekonsall called him beast: so did Smyth one of the clerks of the Counsayle, and diverse other that stood by. At length the Bishop of Winchester said, that all men might live chaste that would, and brought in this text: Castrauerunt se propter regnum coelorum, That is, There he that have gelded themselves for the kingdom of heaven, Math. 19.

M. Hooper said, that text proved not that all men could live chaste, but such only to whom it was given: and read that which goeth before in the text. But there was a clamour and cry, mocking and scorning, with calling him beast, that the text could not be examined. Then M. Hooper said, that it did appear by the old Canons that marriage was not forbidden unto Priests, and named the Decrees. But the Bishop of Winchester sent for another part, namely, the Clementines, or the Extrauagants. But M. Hooper said, that book was not it which he named.

Then cried out the Bishop of Winchester, and said: You shall not have any other, until ye be judged by this. And then began such a noise, tumult, and speaking together of a great many that favored not the cause, that nothing was done ne spoken orderly, nor charitably. Afterwardes Judge Morgan began to rail at M. Hooper a long time, with many opprobrious & fowl words of his doing at Gloucester, in punishing of men, & said, there was never such a tyrant as he was. After that D. Day Bishop of Chichester said, that the Council of Ancyra, which was before the Council of Nice, was against the marriage of Priests.

Then cried out my L. Chancellor, & many with him, that M. Hooper had never read the Councils.

Yes my Lord (quoth M. Hooper) and my L. of Chichester Doctor Day knoweth, that the great Council of Nice, by the means of one Paphnutius, decreed that no Minister should be separated from his wife. But such clamours and cries were used, that the Council of Nice was not seen.

After this long brutish talk, Tonstall Bishop of Duresme, asked M. Hooper whether he believed the corporal presence in the sacrament. And master Hooper said plainly that there was none such, neither did he believe any such thing.

Then would the Bish. of Duresme have read out of a book, for his purpose belike (what book it was, I cannot tell:) but there was such a noise and confuse talk on every side, that he did not read it. Then asked Winchester of M. Hooper, what authority moved him not to believe the corporal presence? He said, the authority of gods word, and alleged this text: Quem oportet coelum suscipere, vsque ad tempus restaurationis omnium. i. Whom heavē must hold, until the latter day.

Then the B. of Winchester would have made that text to have served nothing for his purpose, & he said, he might be in heaven, and in the sacrament also.

M. Hooper would have said more to have opened the text, but all men that stood next about the Bishop, allowed so his saying with clamours and cries, that M. Hooper was not permitted to say anymore against the Bishop. Whereuppon they bade the Notaries write that he was married, and said, that he would not go from his wife, and that he believed not the corporal presence in the Sacrament, wherefor he was worthy to be deprived from his bishopric.

This is the truth of the matter (as far as I can truly remember) of the confuse and troublesome talk that was between them, and except it were hasty and uncharitable words, this is the whole matter of their talk, at that time. At{que} haec ill hactenus.

The true report of M. Hoopers entertainment in the Fleet, written with his own hand, the seventh of January. 1554.

THe first of September, 1553. I was committed unto the Fleet, from Richmount, to have the liberty of the prison: and within six days after, I paid for my liberty v. pounds sterling to the Warden for fees: who immediately upon the payment thereof, complained unto Stephen Gardener Bishop of Winchester, and so was I committed to close prison one quarter of a year, in the Tower chamber of the Fleet, used very extremely. Then by the means of a good Gentlewoman, I had liberty to come down to dinner and supper, not suffered to speak with any of my friends: but as soon as dinner & supper was done, to repair to my chamber again. Notwithstādyng whilst I came down thus to dinner and supper, the Warden and his wife picked quarrels with me, and complained untruly of me, to their great friend the bishop of Winchester.

After one quarter of a year and somewhat more. Babington the Warden and his wife fell out with me for the wicked Mass: and thereupon the Warden resorted to the B. of Wint. & obtained to put me into the wards, where I have continued a long time, having nothing appointed to me for my bed, but a little pad of straw, and a rotten covering with a tike and a few feathers therein, the chamber being vile and stinking, until by gods means good people sent me bedding to lie in. Of the one side of which prison is the sink and filth of the house, and on the other side the town ditch, so that the stench of the house hath infected me with sundry diseases.

During which time I have been sick: & the doors, bars, haspes, and chains being all closed, and made fast upon me, I have mourned, called and cried for help. But the Warden when he hath known me many times ready to die, and when the poor men of the wards have called to help me, hath commanded the doors to be kept fast, and charged that none of his men should come at me, saying: let him alone, it were a good riddance of him. And among many other times, he did thus the 18. of October, 1553. as many can witness.

I paid always like a Baron to the said Warden, as well in fees, as for my board, which was xx. s. a week, besides my man's table, until I was wrongfully depryued of my bishopric, and since that time I have paid him as the best gentleman doth in his house: yet hath he used me worse and more vilely, then the veriest slave that ever came to the hall Commons.

The said Warden hath also imprisoned my man William Downton, & stripped him out of his cloths to search for letters, & could find none but only a little remembrance of good people's names, that gave me their alms to relieve me in prison: and to undo them also, the Warden delivered the same bill unto the said St. Gardener, God's enemy and mine.

I have suffered imprisonment almost eighteen months, my goods, living, friends, and comfort taken from me, the Queen owing me by just account 80. pounds or more. She hath put me in prison, and giveth nothing to find me, neither is there suffered any to come at me, whereby I might have relief. I am with a wicked man and woman, so that I see no remedy (saving gods help) but I shall be cast away in prison before I come to judgment. But I commit my just cause to God, whose will be done, whether it be by life or death. Thus much wrote he himself of this matter.

Another examination of M. Hooper.

THe xxij. of January following, 1555. Babington the Warden of the Fleet was commanded to bring M. Hooper before the Bishop of Winchester, with other Bishops and Commissioners at the said Winchesters house at S. Mary Oueries, where as in effect thus much was done.

The Bishop of Winchester in the name of himself and the rest, moved Master Hooper earnestly to forsake the evil and corrupt doctrine (as he termed it) preached in the days of K. Edward the sixth, and to return to the unity of the Catholic Church, and to acknowledge the Popes holiness to be head of the same Church, according to the determination of the whole Parliament, promising, that as he himself, with other his brethren had received the Popes blessing and the Queens mercy: even so mercy was ready to be shown to him and others, if he would arise with them, and condescend to the Popes holiness.

M. Hooper answered: that for as much as the Pope taught doctrine altogether contrary to the doctrine of Christ, he was not worthy to be accounted as a member of Christ's Church, much less to be head thereof: wherefore he would in no wise condescend to any such usurped jurisdiction, neither esteemed he the Church, whereof they call him head, to be the Catholic Church of Christ: for the Church only heareth the voice of her spouse Christ, & flieth the strangers. Howbeit (saith he) if in any point to me unknown, I have offended the Queens majesty, I shall most humbly submit myself to her mercy, if mercy may be had with safety of conscience, and without the displeasure of God.

Answer was made, that the Queen would show no mercy to the Popes enemies. Whereuppon Babington was commanded to bring him to the Fleet again: who did so, and shifted him from his former chamber into another, nere unto the Wardens own chamber, where he remained six days: and in the mean time, his former chamber was searched by D. Martin and others, for writings and books, which M. Hooper was thought to have made but none was found.

Here followeth another examination of M. Hooper.

THe 28. of January, Winchester and other the Commissioners, sat in judgment at S. Mary Oueries, whereas M. Hooper appeared before them at after noon again, and there after much reasoning and disputation to and fro, he was commanded aside, till M. Rogers (which was then come) had been likewise examined. Examinations being ended, the two Sheriffs of London were commanded about four of the clock, to carry them to the Counter in Southwarke, there to remain until the morrow at ix. a clock, to see whether they would relent and come home again to their Catholic Church. So M. Hooper went before with one of the Sheriffs, and M. Rogers came after with the other, and being out of the Church door, M. Hooper looked back and stayed a little till M. Rogers drew near, unto whom he said: Come brother Rogers, must we two take this matter first in hand, and begin to fry these fagots? Yea Sir (said M. Rogers) by God's grace. Doubte not (said M. Hooper) but God will give strength. So going forwards, there was such a press of people in the streets, which rejoiced at their constauncie, that they had much ado to pass.

By the way the Sheriff said to M. Hooper: I wonder that ye were so hasty and quick with my L. Chancellor, and did use no more patience? He answered: M. Sheriff, I was nothing at all impacient, although I was earnest in my masters cause, and it standeth me so in hand for it goeth upon life and death: not the life and death of this world only, but also of the world to come. Then were they committed to the Keeper of the Counter, and appointed to several chambers, with commandment that they should not be suffered to speak one with another, neither yet any other permitted to come at them that night.

Upon the next day following, the 29. of January, at the hour appointed they were brought again by the Sheriffs, before the said Bishop and Commissioners in the Church, where they were the day before. And after long and earnest talk, when they perceived that M. Hooper would by no means condescend unto them, they condemned him to be disgraded, and read unto him his condemnation. That done, M. Rogers was brought before them, and in like manner entreated, and so they delivered both of them to the secular power the two shirifs of London, who were willed to carry them to the Clinke, a prison not far from the B. of Winchesters house, and there to remain till night.

When it was dark, M. Hooper was led by one of the Sheriffs, with many bills and weapons, first through the B. of Winchesters house, and so over London bridge, thorough the City to Newgate. And by the way some of the Sergeaunts were willed to go before, and put out the Costerdmongers candles who use to sit with light in the streets: either fearing (of lykelihoode) that the people would have made some attempt to have taken him away from them by force, if they had seen him go to that prysonne: or else being burdened with an evil conscience, they thought darkness to be a most fit season for such a business.

But notwithstanding this devise, the people having some foreknowledge of his coming, many of them came forth of their doors with lights and saluted him, praising God for his constancy in the true doctrine which he had taught them, and desiring God to strengthen him in the same to the ende. M. Hooper passed by, and required the people to make their earnest prayers to God for him, and so went through Chepeside to the place appointed, & was delivered as close prisoner, to the Keeper of Newgate, where he remained six days, nobody being permitted to come to him, or to talk with him, saving his Keepers. and such as should be appointed thereto.

During this time, Boner B. of London, and others at his appointment, as Fecknam, Chedsey, and Harpsfield, &c. resorted diverse times unto him, to assay if by any means they could persuade him to relent and become a member of their Antichristian church. All the ways they could devise, they attempted. For besides the disputations and allegations of testimonies of the Scriptures, and of ancient writers wrasted to a wrong sense, according to their accustomed manner, they used also all outward gentleness and significations of friendship, with many great proffers and promises of worldly commodities, not omittyng also most grievous threatenings, if with ge • tlenesse they could not prevail, but they found him always one man, steadfast and immovable.

When they perceived that they could by no means reclayme him to their purpose, with such persuasions and offers as they used for his conversion, then went they about by false rumors and reports of recantations (for it is well known, that they and their servants did spread it first abroad) to bring him and the doctrine of Christ which he professed, out of credit with the people. So the brute being a little spread abroad, and believed of some of the weaker sort, by reason of the often resort of the Bishop of London and other, it increased more, & at the last came to M. Hoopers ears. Wherewith he was not a little grieved, that the people should give so light credit unto false rumors, having so simple a ground, as it may appear by a letter which he wrote upon that occasiō, the copy whereof followeth.

Upon Monday morning the B. of London came to Newgate, and there disgraded M. Hooper, the sentence of which his degradation here followeth.

Degradatio Hooperi.

IN nomine ✚ patris, ✚ & filij, ✚ & spiritus sancti. Amen. Quoniam per sententiam diffinitiuam à reuerendo in Christo patre & Domino Stephano permissione diuina, Winton. Epìscopo in & contra te Iohannem Hooper praesbyterum, suae iurisdictionis ration haeresis & delicti infra illius dioecesin Winton. notorie commissi existentem, nuper rite & legitime prolatam, constat sufficienter & legitime nobis Edmundo London. Episcopo te praefatum Iohannem Hooper haereticum manifestum & obstinatum, ac pertinacem fuisse & esse, ac constat similiter tanquā haereticum huiusmodi per dictam sententiam pronunciatum & declaratum fuisse, maioris{que} excommunicationis sententia ob id innodatum & inuolutum similiter esse, ac ab ordine tuo deponendum & degradandum, curiae{que} seculari ob demerita tua huiusmodi tradendum fore, prout ex tenore dictae sententiae, ad quā nos in hac parte nos referimus, plenius, planius, & expressius lique • & apparet: Idcirco nos Edmundus Episc. London. antedictus, quia nostra & vniuersitatis etiam in terest nostras hic partes interponere, & vicariam operam mutuam{que} vicissitudinem impendere, in cuius etiam dioecesi tu Johannes Hooper per idem heresis crimen tunc & saepius, & ante & post commisisti, istis inquam & alijs praedictis attentis & exequendo omni meliori & efficaciori modo, quo possumus, sententiam praedictam, sic vt prae mittitur, latam in te qui infra fines & limites dioecesis nostrae London▪ notorie consist̄s, & in hac parte culpabilis & transgressor etiam notorie existens, ad actualem degradationem tui praefati Johannes Hooper (culpa tua exigente ac iustitia id poscente) duximus procedendum fore, ac sic etiam realiter procedimus, vt deinde iuxta iuris exigentiam & temporis retroacti morem laudabilem & normam consuetam, te in Arca Ecclesiae manere nolentem, curiae seculari, rite & legitime ac effectualiter tradere possumus, Quod ipsum sic fieri debere, nos per hanc nostrā sententiam sieve decretum decernimus, pronunciamus, & declaramus in hijs scriptis.

After the sentence of degradation thus declared, now let us see the form and manner of their degradyng, which here also followeth. But first here is to be noted, that the disgrading of this blessed B. did not proceed against him as against a B. but as only against a Priest, as they termed him: for such as he was, these Baalamites accounted for no Bishop.

Here followeth the form and manner used in the disgrading of B. Hooper.

THe fourth day of February, the yere above mentioned, in the Chapel in Newgate, the Bishop of London there sitting with his Notarie and certain other witnesses. came Alexander Andrew the Gaoler, bringing with him M. Hooper and M. Rogers, being condemned before by the Chancellor: where the said Bishop of London, at the request of the foresaid Winchester, proceeded to the degradation of the parties above mentioned, M. Hooper and M. Rogers, after this form and manner. First, he put upon them all the vestures and ornaments belonging to a Priest, with all other things to the same order appertainyng, as though (being reuested) they should solemnly execute in their office. Thus they being appareled and invested, the B. beginneth to pluck of, first the uttermost vesture, and so by degree and order coming down to the lowest vesture, which they had only in taking Bennet and Collet: and so being stripped and deposed, he deprived them of all order, benefit and privilege belonging to the Clergy: and consequently, that being done, pronounced, decreed, and declared the said parties so disgraded, to be given personally to the secular power, as the Sheriffs being for that yere, M. Dauy Woodrofe, and M. William Chester: who receiving first the said M. Rogers at the hands of the B. had him away with them, bringing him to the place of execution where he suffered. The witnesses there present. were M. Harpsfield Archdeacon of Londō, Rob. Cosin, and Rob. Willerton, canons of Paul's, Th. Montague, & George Howe clerks, Tristram Swadocke, and Richard Clunney Sumner, &c.

The same Monday at night being the 4. of February, his keeper gave him an inkeling that he should be sent to Gloucester to suffer death, whereat he rejoiced very much, lifting up his eyes and hands into heaven, & praising god that he saw it good to send him amongst the people, over whom he was pastor, there to confirm with his death the truth which he had before taught them: not doubting but the Lord would give him strength to perform the same to his glory: and immediately he sent to his servants house for his bootes, spurs, and cloke, that he might be in a redines to ride when he should be called.

The next day following, about four of the clock in the morning before day, the Keeper with others came to him and searched him, & the bed wherein he lay, to see if he had written anything, and then he was led by the shiriffs of London and other their officers forth of Newgate, to a place appointed not far from S. Dunstanes Church in Fleetestreete, where six of the Queens Garde were appointed to receive him & to carry him to Gloucester, there to be delivered unto the shiriffe, who with the L. Shandois, M. Wickes, and other Commissioners were appointed to see execution done. The which Gard brought him to the Angel, where he brake his fast with them, eating his meat at that time more liberally then he had used to do a good while before. About the break of the day he went to horse, and lept cheerfully on horseback without help, having a hood upon his hed under his hat that he should not be known, and so took his journey joyfully towards Gloucester, and always by the way the Gard learned of him where he was accustomed to bait or lodge, and ever carried him to another Inn.

Upon the Thursday following, he came to a town in his Dioces, called Ciceter, xv. miles frō Gloucester, about eleven of the clock, and there dyned at a woman's house which had always hated the truth, and spoken all evil she could of M. Hooper. This woman perceiving the cause of his coming, shown him all the friendship she could, and lamented his case with tears, confessing that she before had often̄ reported, that if he were put to the trial, he would not stand to his doctrine.

After dinner he rode forwards, & came to Gloucest • r about v. of the clock, and a mile without the town was much people assembled which cried & lamented his estate: in so much, that on of the Gard rode post into the town, to require aid of the Mayor and shiriffes, fearing least he should have been taken from them.

The Officers and their retinue repaired to the Gate with weapons, and commanded the people to keep their houses, &c. but there was no man that once gave any signification of any such rescue or violence. So was he lodged at one Ingrams house in Gloucester, and that night (as he had done all the way) he did eat his meat quietly, and slept his first sleep soundly, as it was reported by thē of the Gard and others. After his first sleep he continued all that night in prayer until the morning, and then he desired that he might go into the next chamber (for the Gard wer also in the chamber where he lay) that there being solitary, he might pray and talk with God: so that all that day, saving a little at meat, and when he talked at any time with such as the Gard licenced to speak with him, he bestowed in prayer.

Amongest other that spake with him, Sir Anthony Kingston Knight, was one. Who seemyng in times past his very friend, was then appointed by the Queens letters, to be one of the commissioners, to see execution done upon him. Master Kingston being brought into the chamber, found him at his prayer, and as soon as he saw M. Hooper, he burst forth in tears. Master Hooper at the first blush knew him not. Then said master Kingston, Why my Lord, do ye not know me an old friend of yours Anthony Kingston.

Yes M. Kingston, I do now know you well, and am glad to see you in health, and do praise God for the same.

But I am sory to see you in this case: for as I understand you be come hither to die. But (alas) consider that life is sweet, and death is bitter. Therefore seeing life may be had, desire to live: for life hereafter may do good.

In deed it is true M. Kingston, I am come hither to end this life, and to suffer death here, because I will not gainsay the former truth that I have heretofore taught amongst you in this Diocese, and else where, and I thank you for your friendly counsel, although it be not so friendly as I could have wished it. True it is (M. Kingstone) that death is bitter, and life is sweet: but (alas) consider that the death to come is more bitter, and the life to come is more sweet.

Therefore for the desire and love I have to the one, and the terror and fear of the other, I do not so much regard this death, nor esteem this life, but have settled myself through the strength of gods holy spirit, patiently to pass through the torments and extremities of the fire, now prepared for me, rather then to deny the truth of his word, desiring you and others in the mean time, to commend me to God's mercy in your prayers.

Well (my Lord) then I perceive there is no remedy, and therefore I will take my leave of you: and I than • e God that ever I knew you, for God did appoint you to call me being a lost child: and by your good instructions, where before I was both an adulterer and a fornicator, God hath brought me to the forsaking and detesting of the same.

If you have had the grace so to do, I do highly praise God for it: and if you have not, I pray God ye may have, and that you may continually live in his fear. After these and many other words, the one took leave of the other, M. Kyngston with bitter tears, M. Hooper with tears also tricklyng down his cheeks. At which departure M. Hooper told him, that all the troubles he had sustained in prison, had not caused him to utter so much sorrow.

The same day in the after noon, a blind boy, after long intercessiō made to the Gard, obtained license to be brought unto M. Hoopers speech. The same boy not long afore had suffered imprisonment at Gloucester for confessyng of the truth. M. Hooper after he had examined him of his faith, and the cause of his imprisonment, beheld him steadfastly, and (the water appearing in his eyes) said unto him: Ah poor boy, God hath taken from thee thy outward sight, for what consideration he best knoweth: but he hath given thee another sight much more precious: for he hath endued thy soul with the eye of knowledge and faith. God give thee grace continually to pray unto him, that thou loose not that sight: for then shouldest thou be blind both in body and soul.

After that another came to him, whom he knew to be a very papist and a wicked man, which appeared to be sory for M. Hoopers trouble, saying: Sir, I am sory to see you thus. To see me? Why (said he) art thou sory? To see you (saith the other) in this case. For I hear say ye are come hither to die, for the which I am sory. Be sory for thyself man (said M. Hooper) and lament thine own wickedness: for I am well, I thank God, and death to me for Christ's sake is welcome.

The same night he was committed by the Gard (their Commission being then expired) unto the custody of the Sheriffs of Gloucester. The name of the one was Ienkins, the other Bond, who with the Mayor & Aldermen repaired to M. Hoopers lodging, and at the first meeting saluted him, and took him by the hand. Unto whom Hooper spake on this manner. M. Mayor, I give most hearty thanks to you, and to the rest of your brethren, that you have vouchsafed to take me a prysoner and a condemned man by the hand: whereby to my rejoicing it is some deal apparent that your old love and friendship towards me, is not altogether extinguished: and I trust also, that all the things I have taught you in times past, are not utterly forgotten, when I was here by the godly K. that dead is, appointed to be your bishop and Pastor. For the which most true and sincere doctrine, because I will not now account it falsehood and heresy, as many other men do, I am sent hither (as I am sure you know) by the Queens commandment, to die, and am come where I taught it, to confirm it with my blood. And now M. Sheriffs I understand by these good men, and my very friends, (meaning the Gard) at whose hands I have found so much favor and gentleness by the way hitherward, as a prisoner could resonably require (for the which also I most heartily thank them) that I am committed to your custody, as unto them that must see me brought tomorrow to the place of execution. My request therefore to you shall be only, that there may be a quick fire, sho • tl • to make an end, and in the mean time I will be as obedient unto you, as yourselves would wish. If you think I do amiss in any thing, hold up your finger, and I have done. For I come not hither as one enforced or compelled to die (for it is well known, I might have had my life w ^t worldly gain:) but as one willing to offer and give my life for the truth, rather then to consent to the wicked papistical religion of the Bishop of Rome, received and set forth by the maiestrates in England, to God's high displeasure and dishonor: and I trust by God's grace tomorrow to die a faithful servant of God, and a true obedient subject to the Queen.

These and such like words in effect used M. Hooper to the Mayor, Sheriffs, and Aldermen, whereat many of them mourned and lamented. Notwithstandyng, the two Shiriffs went aside to consult, and were determined to have lodged him in the common jail of the town called Northgate, if the Gard had not made earnest intercession for him: who declared at large how quietly, mildlye, and patiently he had behaved himself in the way, adding thereto, that any child might keep him well enough, & that they themselves would rather take pains to watch with him, then that he should be sent to the common prison. So it was determined at the length he should still remain in Rob. Ingrams house, and the shiriffes and the sergeants and other officers did appoint to watch with him y ^t night themselves. His desire was that he might go to bed that night betimes, saying that he had many things to remember: and so did at five of the clock, and slepte one sleep soundly, and bestowed the rest of the night in prayer. After he gate up in the morning, he desired that no man should be suffered to come into the chamber, that he might be solitary till the hour of execution.

About 8. of the clock came sir John Bridges L. Shādoys, with a great band of men, sir Anthony Kingston, sir Edmund Bridges, & other Commissioners appointed to see execution done. At nine of the clock M. Hooper was willed to prepare himself to be in a readiness, for the time was at hand. Immediately he was brought down from his chamber by the shiriffes, who were accompanied with bills, glaues, and weapons. When he saw the multitude of weapons, he spake to the Sheriffs on this wise: Master Sheriffs (said he) I am no traitor, neither needed you to have made such a business to bring me to the place where I must suffer: for if ye had willed me, I would have gone alone to y ^e stake, & have troubled none of you all. And afterward looking upon the multitude of people which were assembled, being by estimation to the number of seven thousand (for it was market day, and many also come to see his behavior towards death) he spake unto those that were about him, saying: Alas, why be these people assembled and come together? Peradventure they think to hear some thing of me now, as they have in times past, but alas speech is prohibited me. Notwithstanding the cause of my death is well known unto them. When I was appointed here to be their Pastor, I preached unto them true and sincere doctrine, and that out of the word of God. Because I will not now accompt the same to be heresy and untruth, this kind of death is prepared for me.

So he went forward led between the two Sheriffs, (as it were a Lamb to the place of slaughter) in a gown of his Hosts, his hat upon his hed, & a stasse in his hand to stay himself withal. For the grief of the Sciatica, which he had taken in prison, caused him something to halt. All the way being straitly charged not to speak, he could not be perceived once to open his mouth, but beholding the people all the way which mourned bitterly for him, he would sometimes lift up his eyes towards heaven, & look very cheerfully upon such as he knew: & he was never known during the time of his being amongst them to look with so cheerful and ruddish a countenance as he did at that present. When he came to the place appointed where he should die, smilingly he beheld the stake and preparation made for him, which was near unto the great Elm tree over against the college of priests, where he was wont to preach. The place round about the houses, & the bows of the tree were replenished with people, and in the chamber over the college gate stood the priests of the college. Then kneeled he down (for as much as he could not be suffered to speak unto the people) to prayer, and beckoned unto him six or seven times whom he knew well, to hear the said prayer, to make report thereof in time to come (pouryng tears upon his shoulders & in his bosom) who gave attentive ears unto the same: the which prayer he made upon the whole Creed, wherein he continued for the space of half an hour. Now after he was somewhat entered into his prayer, a box was brought and laid before him upon a stool, with his pardon (or at the least wise it was feigned to be his pardon) from the Queen, if he would turn. At the sight thereof he cried: If you love my soul, away w ^t it, if you love my soul, away with it. The box being taken away, the Lord Shandoys said: Seeing there is no remedy, dispatch quickly. Master Hooper said: Good my Lord, I trust your Lordship will give me leave to make an ende of my prayers.

Then said the Lord Shandoys to sir Edmund Bridges his son (which gave ear before to master Hoopers prayer at his request:) Edmond, take heed that he do nothing else but pray: if he do, tell me, and I shall quickly dispatche him. Whiles this talk was, there stepped one or two in uncalled, which heard him speak these words following▪

LOrde (said he) I am hell, but thou art heaven: I am swill and a sink of sin, but thou art a gracious God and a merciful redeemer. Have mercy therefore upon me most miserable and wretched offender, after thy great mercy, and according to thine inestimable goodness. Thou that art ascended into heaven, receive me hell to be partaker of thy joys, where thou sittest in equal glory with thy father. For well knowest thou Lord wherefore I am come hither to suffer, and why the wicked do persecute this thy poor servant: not for my sins and transgressions committed against thee, but because I will not allow their wicked doings, to the contaminating of thy blood, and to the denial of the knowledge of thy truth, wherewith it did please thee by thy holy spirit to instruct me: the which with as much diligence as a pore wretch might (being thereto called) I have set forth to thy glory. And well seest thou my Lord and God, what terrible pains and cruel torments be prepared for thy creature: such, Lord, as without thy strength none is able to bear, or patiently to pass. But all things that are impossible with man, are possible with thee. Therefore strengthen me of thy goodness, that in the fire I break not the rules of patience, or else asswage the terror of the pains, as shall seem most to thy glory.

As soon as the Mayor had espied these men which made report of the former words, they were commanded away, and could not be suffered to hear anymore. Prayer being done, he prepared himself to the stake, and put off his hostesse gown, and delivered it to the sheriffes, requiring them to see it restored unto the owner, and put off the rest of his gear, unto his doublet and his hose, wherein he would have burned. But the Sheriffs would not permit that, (such was their greediness) unto whose pleasures (good man) he very obediently submitted him self: and his doublet, hose, and peticote were taken off. Then being in his shirt, he took a point from his hose him self, & trussed his shirt between his legs, where he had a pound of gunne powder in a bladder, and under each arm the like quantity delivered him by the Garde. So desiring the people to say the Lord's prayer with him, and to pray for him, (who performed it with tears, during the time of his pains) he went up to the stake. Now when he was at the stake, three irons made to bind him to the stake, were brought: one for his neck, another for his middle, and the third for his legs. But he refusing them said: ye have no need thus to trouble yourselves. For I doubt not but God will give strength sufficient to abide the extremity of the fire, w ^t out bands: notwithstanding, suspecting the frailty and weakness of the flesh, but having assured confidence in God's strength, I am content ye do as ye shall think good.

So the hoope of iron prepared for his middle, was brought, which being made somewhat too short (for his belly was swollen by imprisonment) he shrank and put in his belly w ^t his hand, until it was fastened: and when they offered to have bound his neck & his legs with the other two hoopes of iron, he utterly refused them, & would have none, saying: I am well assured I shall not trouble you.

Thus being ready, he looked upon the people, of whom he might be well seen (for he was both tal, and stood also on an high stool) and beheld round about him: and in every corner there was nothing to be seen but weeping and sorrowful people. Then lifting up his eyes and hands unto heaven, he prayed to himself. By and by he that was appointed to make the fire, came to him, and did ask him forgiveness. Of whom he asked why he should forgive him, saying: that he knew never any offense he had committed against him. Oh sir (said the mā) I am appointed to make y ^e • ire. Therein (said M. Hooper) thou doest nothing offend me: God forgive thee thy sins & do thine office, I pray thee. Then the Reedes were cast up, and he received two bundels of them in his own hands, embraced them, kissed them, and put under either arm one of them, and shown with his hand how the rest should be bestowed, and pointed to the place where any did lack.

Anone commandment was given that fire should be set too, and so it was. But because there were put to no fewer green fagots then two horses could carry upon their backs, it kindled not by and by, and was a pretty while also before it took the Reedes upon the fagottes. At length it burned about him, but the wind having full strength in that place (it was also a lowering & a cold morning) it blew the flame from him, so that he was in a manner no more but touched by the fire.

Within a space after, a few dry fagottes were brought, and a new fire kindeled with fagottes, (for there were no more Reedes:) and that burned at the nether partes, but had small power above, because of the wind, saving that it did burn his hair, and scorch his skin a little. In the time of which fire, even as at the first flame, he prayed, saying mildly and not very loud (but as one without pains:) O Jesus the son of David have mercy upon me, and receive my soul. After the seconde was spente, he did wipe both his eyes with his hands, and beholding the people, he said with an indifferent loud voice: For God's love (good people) let me have more fire. And all this while his nether partes did burn: for the fagottes were so few, that the flame did not burn strongly at his upper partes.

The third fire was kindled within a while after, which was more extreme then the other two: and then the bladders of gonnepouder brake, which did him small good, they were so placed, and the wind had such power. In the which fire he prayed with somewhat a loud voice: Lord Jesus have mercy upon me: Lord Jesus have mercy upon me: Lord Jesus receive my spirit. And these were the last words he was heard to utter. But when he was black in the mouth, and his tongue swollen, that he could not speak, yet his lips went till they were shrunk to the gums: and he knocked his breast with his hands, until one of his arms fell off, and then knocked still with the other, what time the fat, water, and blood dropped out at his fingers ends, until by renewing of y ^e fire▪ his strength was gone, and his hand did cleave fast in knocking to the iron upon his breast. So immediately bowing forwards, he yielded up his spirit.

In clarissimi Doctrina & pietate viri Johannes Hoperi Martyrium, Conradi Gesneri carmen.

Thus was he three quarters of an hour or more in the fire. Even as a Lamb, patiently he abode the extremity thereof, neither moving forwards, backwards, or to any side: but having his nether partes burned, and his bowels fallen out, he died as quietly as a child in his bed: and he now reigneth as a blessed Martyr in the joys of heaven prepared for the faithful in Christ, before the foundations of the world: for whose constancy all Christians are bound to praise God.

A letter which M. Hooper did write out of prison to certain of his friends.

Amongst many other memorable acts and notes worthy to be remembered in the history of M. Hooper, this also is not to be forgotten, which happened between him, and a bragging Frier a little after the beginning of his imprisonment: the story whereof here followeth.

A Frier came from France to England with great vaunt, asking who was the greatest heretic in all England, thinking belike to do some great act upon him. To whom answer was made, that M. Hooper had then the greatest name to be the chiefest ringleader: who was then in the Fleet. The Frier coming to him, asked why he was committed to prison. He said for debt. Nay, said he, it was for heresy, Which when the other had denied, what sayst thou (quoth he) to hoc est corpus meum? M. Hooper being partly moved at the sudden question, desired that he might ask of him again another question, which was this: What remained after the consecration in the Sacrament: any bread or no? No bread at all saith he. And when ye break it, what do ye break: either bread or the body, said Master Hooper? No bread said the Frier, but the body only. If you do so, said M. Hooper, ye do great injury, not only to the body of Christ, but also ye break the Scriptures, which say: Ye shall not break of him one bone. &c. Wyth y ^t the Frier having nothing be like to answer, recoyled back, and with his circles and crosses began to use exorcism against M. Hooper, as though. &c.

Thys and more wrote master Hooper, to mistress Wilkinson in a letter, which letter was read unto her by John Kelke.

Comparison between M. Hooper and Polycarpus.

WHen I see and behold y ^e great patience of these blessed Martyrs in our days, in their sufferings so quietly and constantly abiding the torments that are ministered unto them of princes for God's cause: me thinks I may well and worthily compare them unto the old Martyrs of the primative Church. In the number of whom, if comparison be to be made betwixt Saint and Saint: Martyr and Martyr, with whom, might I match this blessed martyr M. John Hooper better through the whole catalogue of the old Martyrs, then with Polycarpus the ancient Bishop of Smirna, of whom Eusebius maketh mention in the Ecclesiastical story? For as both agreed together in one kind of punishment, being both put to the fire, so which of them shown more patience and constancy in the time of their suffering, it is hard to be said. And though Polycarpus being set in the flame (as the story saith) was kept by miracle from the tormente of the fire, till he was stricken down with weapon, and so dispatched: yet Hooper by no less miracle armed with patience & fervent spirit of God's comfort, so quietly despised the violence thereof, as though he had felt little more then did Polycarpus in y ^e fire flaming round about him.

Moreover, as it is written of Polycarpus when he should have been tied to the stake, he required to stand untied, saying these words: Sinite me, qui namque ignem ferre posse dedit, dabit etiam vt sine vestra clauorum cautione immotus in rogo permaneam. That is, Let me alone, I pray you, for he that gave me strength to come to this fire, will also give me patience to abide in the same, without your tying. So likewise Hooper, with the like spirit, when he should have been tied with three chains to the stake, requiring them to have no such mistrust of him, was tied but with one, who and if he had not been tied at all, yet (no doubt) would have no less answered to that great patience of Polycarpus.

And as the ende of them both was much agreeing, so the life of them both was such, as might seme not far discrepant. In teaching, like diligent both, in zeal fervent, in life unspotted, in manners and conversation inculpable, Bishops & also martyrs both. Briefly, in teaching so pithy and fruitful, that as they both were joined together in one Spirit, so might they be joined in one name together of 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , to wit, much fruitful. to which name also 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 is not much unlike. In this the Martyrdom of M. Hooper may seem in suffering to go before, though in time it followed the Martyrdom of Polycarpus, for that he was both longer in prison, and there also so cruelly handled by the malice of his keepers, as I think none of the old martyrs ever suffered the like. To this also add howe he was disgraded by Boner, with such contumelies and reproaches, as I think in Polycarpus time was not used to any.

And as we have hitherto compared these two good Martyrs together, so now if we should compare the enemies and authors of their death one with the other, we should find no inequality betwixt them both, but that the adversaries of M. Hooper seemed to be more cruel and unmerciful. For they that put Polycarpus to death, yet ministered to him a quick dispatch, moved belike by some compassion not to have him stand in the torment: where the tormentors of M. Hooper suffered him without all compassion to stand three quarters of an hour in the fire. And as touching the chief doers and authors of his martyrdom, what Consul or Proconsul was there to be conferred with the Chancellor here, which brought this Martyr to burning? Let this suffice.

This good Bishop and servant of God being in prison, wrote diverse Books and Treatises, to the number of 24. whereof some he wrote to the parliament in Latin, and one to the Bishop of Chichester D. Day: besides he wrote of the sacraments, of the Lord's prayer, and of the x. Commandments, with diverse other.

Here follow certain of M. Hoopers letters.

AS you have heard the whole story of the life and martyrdom of this good man declared: so now let us consequently adjoin some parte of his letters, written in the time of his imprisonment, moste fruitful and worthy to be read, especially in these dangerous days, of all true Christians, which by true mortification seek to serve and follow the Lord, through all tempests and storms of this malignaunt world, as by the reading and perusing of the said letters, you shall better feel and understand.