The Persecution of the Church of God in Scotland — Scotland

THE PERSECUTION

OF THE

CHURCH OF GOD IN SCOTLAND.

Which began in the Year 1527.

SIR. PATRICK HAMILTON, of an ancient and honorable family, called Abbot of Fern, left Scotland, and went to the University of Wittenberg, in Germany, and became familiar with those great lights and notable servants of Jesus CHRIST, Martin Luther, and Philip Melancthon, whereby he greatly increased in godly knowledge and learning. From thence he went to the University of Marpurg, where he was intimate with other learned men, especially with Francis Lambert, by whose instigation he was the first that there publicly set up conclusions to be disputed of concerning faith and good works. By reason of his learning and integrity of life, he was had in admiration by many persons; but the zeal of God's glory did so eat him up, that he could not rest till he returned into his own country, where the bright beams of the true light, which, by God's grace was planted in his heart, began most abundantly to break forth, as well in public as in secret.

In process of time, the fame of his doctrine troubled the clergy, and came to the ears of James Beton, archbishop and cardinal of Scotland, who privately got Hamilton to St. Andrew's, where, after divers days' conference, he had his freedom and liberty. The bishop seeming to approve his doctrine, acknowledged, that in many things there needed a reformation in the church; but withal, fearing that their kingdom should be endamaged, they labored with the king, who was then young, and much led by them, to go on pilgrimage to St. Dothesse, in Ross, that so, by reason of his absence, no intercession might be made to him, for saving the life of this innocent servant of Jesus CHRIST, who, not suspecting the malice that lodged in their hearts, remained as a lamb amongst wolves.

The king being gone, Mr; Hamilton was seized upon at night, by the bishop's officers, and carried to the castle, and the morrow after he was brought forth unto judgment, and was condemned to be burnt for the testimony of God's truth, in declaring against pilgrimages, purgatory, praying to saints, &c. Immediately after dinner, the fire was prepared, and he was led to execution, yet most men thought that it was only to terrify him, and to cause him to recant. But GOD, for his own glory, and the good of his servants, had otherwise decreed: for he so strengthened him, that neither the love of life, nor fear of that cruel death, could once move him to swerve from the truth which he had professed. At the place of execution, he gave to his servant that, had long attended him, his gown, coat, cap, and other garments, saying, cs These will not profit me In the fire, they will, profit thee. After this you can receive no commodity of me, except the example of my death,. which I pray thee to bear in mind; for though it be bitter to the flesh, and fearful before men, yet it is the entrance into eternal life, which none shall possess who deny CHRIST Jesus before this wicked generation." And so being tied to the stake, in the midst of coals and timber, they gave fire to some powder, which with the blast scorched his hand, and the side of his face, but neither killed him, nor kindled the wood and coals. They ran, therefore, to the castle for more powder, and more combustible matter, which being at last kindled, he cried with a loud voice, " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit. How long shall darkness overwhelm this realm And how long wilt you suffer the tyranny of these men" The fire was slow, and therefore put him to the greater torment; but that which most grieved him, was the clamor of some wicked men, set on by the friars, who continually cried, "Turn, you heretic; call upon our lady; say salve regina." To whom he answered, " Depart from me, and trouble me not." And speaking to one Campbell, a friar, the ringleader, who still roared on him with great vehemency, he said to him, " Wicked man, you knows the contrary, and have confessed the contrary to me; I cite thee before the tribunal seat of Jesus CHRIST." After which words he resigned up his spirit unto GOD, in the year 1527. And within a few days after the said friar died in a frenzy, and as one that despaired.

The said archbishop and cardinal convened before him DAVID STRATON, a gentleman, and Mr. NORMAN GOURLAY. The first of these having a fishing-boat that went to sea, the Bishop of Murray demanded tythe-fish of him, to whom he answered, "That if they would have tythe of that which his servants caught in the sea, they should take it in the place where it was caught;" and so caused his servants to throw the tenth fish into the sea again. All this while he had nothing of religion in him. But when he was hereupon summoned to answer for heresy, it troubled him exceedingly, and then he began to frequent the company of such as were godly, and there appeared a wonderful change in him; so that whereas before he despised the Word of GOD, now all his delight was in hearing it read to him, and he was a vehement exhorter of all men to peace, concord, and contempt of the world. He much frequented the company of the Laird of Dun Areskin, whom God in those days had marvelously illuminated. Hearing that text read, (for he could not read himself,) " He that denieth me before men, or is ashamed of me in the midst of this wicked generation, I will deny him before my Father and his holy angels." He suddenly, as one revived, fell upon his knees, and steadfastly lifting up his eyes and hands to heaven, at length burst forth into these words, 11O Lord, I have been wicked, and justly may you withdraw thy grace from me; but Lord, for thy mercy's sake, let me never deny thee nor thy truth for the fear of death or any corporal pain." Being afterwards, together with Mr. Gourlay, brought to judgment in HolyroodHouse, (the king himself being present,) much means was used to draw this David Straton to make a recantation; but he persevered in his constancy, and so they were both condemned to the fire, and after dinner, in the year 1534 they were first hanged, and afterwards burnt. In the year 1539, there were apprehended JEROME RUSSEL, a man of a meek and quiet nature, and ALEXANDER KENNEDY, of about 1S years old. These two poor servants of Jesus CHRIST being brought before the archbishop and his associates to judgment, Kennedy at first was faint, and would fain have recanted; but when all place of repentance was denied him, the Spirit of GOD, (which seasonably comes in with comfort,) began to refresh him; and his inward comfort began to appear, as well by his visage, as by his tongue and words: for with a cheerful countenance and joyful voice, falling on his knees, he said, "O eternal GOD, how wonderful is that love and mercy that you bearest unto mankind, and to me, a vile sinner and miserable wretch above all others! For even now when I would have denied thee, and thy Son, our Lord Jesus CHRIST, my only Savior, and so have cast myself into everlasting damnation, You, by thine own hand, hast. pulled me from the very bottom of hell, and made me to feel that heavenly comfort which takes from me that ungodly fear wherewith I was oppressed before. Now I defy death; do with me what you please. I praise God I am ready." Then they railed upon him and Russel, who replied, "This is your hour and power of darkness. Now ye sit as judges, and we stand wrongfully accused, and more wrongfully to be condemned. But the day will come when our innocency will appear, and ye shall see your own blindness, to your everlasting confusion. Go forward, and fulfill the measure of your iniquity." Shortly after, they were condemned to die. As they went to execution, Russel comforted Kennedy “Brother, fear not, greater is he that is in us, than he that is in the world. The pain that we are to suffer is short, and shall be light, but our joy and consolation shall never have an end. Let us therefore strive to enter into our Master and Savior's joy, by the same strait way which he has taken before us. Death cannot hurt us, for it is already destroyed by him, for whose sake we now suffer." Thus passing cheerfully on, they constantly triumphed over death and SATAN in the midst of the flaming fire, where they gave up their spirits to God.

GEORGE WISEHEART, or WISCHARD, was born in Scotland, and brought up first at school, from whence he went to the university; after which he traveled into several countries, and at last came to Cambridge, where he was admitted into Bennet's College. He was tall of stature, and of a melancholy constitution; he had black hair,,a long beard, was comely of personage, well-spoken, courteous, lowly, lovely, willing to teach, and desirous to learn. For his habit, he wore a frieze gown, a black fustian doubtlet, plain hose, coarse canvas for his shirts, falling bands. All which apparel he gave to the poor; some weekly, some, monthly, some quarterly; saving a French cap that he wore, which he kept a twelve-month. He was modest, temperate, fearing GOD, hating covetousness. His charity was extraordinary; he forbore his food one meal in three, one day in four, that he might the better relieve the poor. His lodging was upon straw, and he had coarse new canvas sheets, which when once foul, he gave away. He had by his bed-side a tub of Water, in which, in the dark night, he bathed himself. He taught with great modesty and gravity, so that some about him thought him severe, and would have slain him; but the Lord was his deliverer; and he, after due correction for their malice, by good exhortation amended them. His learning was no less sufficient than his desire of it. He was always ready to do good according to his ability. Both in his private chamber and public schools, he always studied how to do good to all.

In 1544, some of the nobility of Scotland coming to treat with King Henry VIII. about the marriage between his son Prince Edward and their young Queen Mary, at their return, Mr. Wischard went with then into Scotland, being a man of admirable graces and learning, both in divine and human sciences. He first preached in Rosse, and then in Dundee, where, with great admiration of all that heard him, he went over the Epistle to the Romans; till, at the instigation of the cardinal, one Robert Misle, a principal man there, and formerly a professor of religion, inhibited him from preaching, requiring that he should trouble their town no more, for he would not suffer it. This was spoken to him in the public place; whereupon he mused a space, with his eyes-bent unto heaven, and afterwards looking sorrowfully upon the speaker and the people, he said, "God is my witness that I never intended your trouble, but your comfort; yea, your trouble is more dolorous to me than it is to yourselves. But I am assured, that, to refuse God's Word, and to chase his messenger from you, shall not preserve you from trouble,. but shall bring you into it. For God shall send you ministers that shall neither fear burning nor banishment. I have offered you the word of salvation. With the hazard of my life I have remained amongst you. Now ye yourselves refuse' me, and I must leave my innocency to be declared by my God. If it be long prosperous with you, I am not led by the Spirit of Truth. But if unlooked for trouble come upon you, acknowledge the cause, and turn to GOD, who is gracious and merciful. But if you turn not at the first warning, he will visit you with fire and sword." Then he came down from the pulpit. Some noblemen being present, would have persuaded him to stay, or to have gone with them into the country, but he would by no means stay till he had past the river Tay.

Then he went into the west country, where he made offers of God's Word, which was gladly received by many, till the Bishop of Glasgow, by the instigation of the cardinal, came with his train to the town of Air to resist Wischard. The earl of Glencarne and some other gentlemen, hearing of it, came thither also with their retinue, and when they were all come together, the bishop would needs have the church himself to preach in. Some opposed; but Wischard said, " Let him alone, his sermon will not do much hurt; let us go to the Market-Cross:" and so they did, where he made so notable a sermon, that his very enemies themselves were confounded.

Wischard remained with the gentlemen in Kyle, preaching sometimes in one place, sometimes in another, but coming to Machlene, he was perforce kept out of the church. Some would have broken in; but he said to one of them, "Brother, Jesus CHRIST is as mighty in the fields as in the church; and himself often preached in the desert, at the sea-side, and other places. It is the word of peace God sends by me: the blood of none shall be shed this day for the preaching of it." And so, going into the fields, he stood upon a bank, where he continued preaching to the people above three hours; and God wrought so wonderfully by that sermon, that one of the most wicked men in all the country, the Laird of Sheld, was converted by it, and his eyes ran down with such abundance of tears, that all men wondered at it. Presently news was brought to Wischard that the plague was broke out in Dundee, which began within four days after he was prohibited from preaching there, and raged so extremely, that it is beyond credit how many died in twenty-four hours' space. This being related to him, notwithstanding the importunity of his friends, he would needs go thither, saying, "They are now in trouble, and need comfort. Perhaps this hand of God will make them now to magnify and reverence the Word of GOD, which before they lightly esteemed."

Coming to Dundee, the joy of the faithful was exceeding great, and he signified without delay, that he would preach the next day. And because most of the inhabitants were either sick, or employed about the sick, he chose the east gate for the place of his preaching; so that the whole were within, and the sick without the gate. His text was, "He sent his word and healed them," Ps. cvii. 2O; wherein he, in an encouraging and consolatory manner, treated of the profit and comfort of God's Word, the punishment that comes by the contempt of it, the readiness of God's mercy to such as truly turn to him, and the happiness of those whom God takes from this misery. This sermon so raised up the hearts of those that heard him, that they regarded no death, but judged them more happy that should then depart, than such as should remain behind; considering that they knew not whether they should have such a comforter with them, or not. He spared not to visit them that lay in the greatest extremity, and to comfort them. He provided all things necessary for such as could take food, the town being very bountiful to them through his instigation. But whilst he was thus busying himself for the comfort of the afflicted, the devil stirred up Cardinal Beton, who corrupted a desperate popish priest, called John Weighton, to slay him. And on a day, the sermon being ended, and the people departed, suspecting no danger, the priest stood waiting at the bottom of the stairs with a naked dagger in his band, under his gown; but Mr. Wischard, being of a sharp piercing eye, seeing the priest as he came down, said to him, "My friend, what would you have" and withal, clapping his hand upon the dagger, took it. from him. The priest, being herewith terrified, fell down upon. his knees, confessed his intention and craved pardon. A noise being hereupon raised, and it coining to the ears of those who had been sick, they cried, "Deliver the traitor to us, or we will take him by force;" and so they burst in at the gate; but Wischard, taking him in his arms, said, "Whosoever hurts him shall hurt me; for he has done me no mischief, but much good, by teaching me more heedfulness for the time to come:" and so he appeased them, and saved the priest's life.

When the plague was almost ceased, he took his leave of them, saying, "That God had almost put an end to the battle, and that he was now called to another place." For the gentlemen of the west had written to him to meet them in Edinburgh, where he should dispute with the bishops, and should be publicly heard, which he willingly assented to. But first he went to Montrosse, to salute the church there, where he sometimes preached, but spent most of his time in private meditation; in which he was so earnest, that he continued day and night in it; during which time, the cardinal again conspired his death, causing a letter to be sent to him, as if it had been from his familiar friend, the Laird of Kinnur, desiring him with all possible speed to come to him, for that he was taken with a sudden sickness. In the mean time, he had provided 6O armed men to he in wait, within a mile and a half of Montrosse, to murder him as he passed by that way. The letter coming to his hands by a boy, who also brought him an horse to ride on, being accompanied with some honest men, his friends, he set forwards; but suddenly stopping and musing a space, he returned back again, which they wondering at, asked him the cause; to whom he said, " I will not go. I am forbidden of God. I am assured there is treason. Let some of you go to yonder place, and tell me what you find;" which they doing, found out the treason; and hastily returning back, they told Mr. Wischard of it; whereupon he said, " I know that I shall end my life by that blood-thirsty man's hands, but it will not be in this manner."

The time approaching wherein he should meet the gentlemen at Edinburgh, he took his leave and departed. By the way he lodged with a faithful brother, called James Watson, of Inner Gowry. In the night-time he got up and went into a yard; which two men hearing, privily followed him. There he walked in an alley for some space, breathing forth many sobs and deep groans; then he fell upon his knees, and his groans increased. Then he fell upon his face. Those that watched him heard him weeping and praying, in which posture he continued near an hour. Then, getting up, he came to his bed again. Those who attended him, making as

though they were ignorant of all, came and asked him where he had been But he would not answer them. The next day they importuned him again, saying, " Be

plain with us, for we heard your mourning, and saw your gestures." Then he, with a dejected countenance, said, I had rather you had been in your beds." But they

still pressing upon him to know something, he said, " I will tell you: I am assured that my warfare is near at an end, and therefore pray to God with me that I shrink not when the battle waxeth most hot." When they heard this, they fell a weeping, saying, "This is small comfort to us." Then said he, " God shall send you comfort

after me. This realm shall be illuminated with the light of CHRIST's gospel as clearly as any realm since the days of the apostles. The house of God shall be built in it; in despite of all enemies. Neither will it be long before this be accomplished. Many shall not suffer after me, till the glory of God shall appear and triumph, in despite of SATAN. But, alas'! if the people shall afterwards prove unthankful, then fearful and terrible shall the plagues be that shall follow."

Then he went forward on his journey, and came to Leith; but hearing nothing of those gentlemen that were to meet him, he kept himself private a day or two: at which time he grew very pensive; and being asked the reason of it, he said, "In what do I differ from a dead man, but in that I eat and drink Hitherto, God has

used my labors for the instruction of others, and to the disclosing of darkness; and now I lurk as a man ashamed, that dare not show his face." Hereby they perceived that his desire was to preach; whereupon they said to him, "It is most comfortable to us to hear you; but because we know the danger wherein you stand, we dare not desire it." "But (said he,) if you dare hear, let God provide for me as best pleases him;" and so it was concluded that the next day he should preach in Leith. His text was the " Parable of the sower," Matt. 13: The sermon being ended, the gentlemen of Lothian, who were earnest professors of Jesus CHRIST, would not suffer him to stay at Leith, because the governor and cardinal were shortly to come to Edinburgh, but took him along with them, and so he preached at Brunstone, Languedine, and Ormstone. Then he was requested to preach at Eneresk, near Musselburgh, where he had a great confluence of people, and amongst them, Sir George Douglas, who, after sermon, said publicly, " I know that the governor and cardinal will hear that I have been at this sermon.

But let them know that I will avow it, and will maintain both the doctrine and the preacher, to the uttermost of my power." This much rejoiced those that were present. Amongst others that came to hear him preach, there were two Grey Friars, who, standing at the church door, whispered to such as carne in: which Wischard observing, said to the people, " I pray you make room for these two men, it may be they come to learn." And turning to them, he said, "Come near, for I assure you, you shall hear the word of truth, which this day shall seal up to you either your salvation or damnation;" and so he proceeded in his sermon, supposing that all would be quiet. But when he perceived that they still continued to disturb all the people that stood near them, he said to them the second time, with an angry countenance, "O ministers of SATAN, and deceivers of the souls of men! will ye neither hear God's truth yourselves, nor suffer others to hear it Depart; and take this for your portion, God shall shortly confound and disclose your hypocrisy within this kingdom. Ye shall be abominable to men, and your places and habitations shall be desolate." This he spoke with much vehemency, and turning to the people, he said, " These men have provoked the Spirit of God to anger:" and then he proceeded to the end of his sermon. Afterwards, he preached in divers other places, the people much flocking after him. In all his sermons, he foretold the shortness of time that he had to travel, and the near approach of his death.

Coming to Haddington, his auditory began much to decrease. The cause, as it was conceived, was this The Earl Bothwel, who had great observance in those parts, by the instigation of the cardinal, had inhibited both those of the town and country from hearing him. Presently after, as he was going to church, he received a letter from the west-country gentlemen, and having read it, he called John Knox, who had diligently waited upon him since he came into Lothian, to whom he said, "I am now weary of the world, because I see that men begin to be weary of God. For (added he,) the gentlemen of the west have sent me word, That they cannot keep their meeting at Edinburgh." John Knox, wondering that he should enter into conference about these things so immediately before his sermon, contrary to his custom, said to, him “Sir, sermon-time approaches”, I will leave you for the present to your meditations." Then Mr. Wischard walked up and down about half an hour, his sad countenance declaring the grief of his mind. At last he went into the pulpit, and his auditory being very small, he began in this manner, "Lord, how long shall it be that thy Holy Word shall be despised, and men shall not regard their own salvation I have heard of thee, O Haddington, that in thee there used to be two or three thousand persons at a vain and wicked play; and now, to hear the messenger of the eternal GOD, of all the parish, scarce one hundred can here be numbered. Sore and fearful shall be the plagues that shall ensue upon this thy contempt. With fire and sword shall you be plagued; yea, You, Haddington, in special, strangers shall possess thee; and you, the present inhabitants, shall either serve your enemies in bondage, or else you shall be chased from your own habitations, and that because you have not known, nor will know, the time of your visitation." This prophecy was accomplished not long after, when the English took Haddington; made it a garrison; forced many of the inhabitants to flee; oppressed others; and after a while, a great plague breaking forth in the town, whereof multitudes died, the English were at last forced to quit it, who, at their departure, burnt and spoiled a great part of it, leaving it to be possessed by such as could first seize upon it, who were the French, that came as auxiliaries to Scotland, with a few of the ancient inhabitants; so that Haddington, to this day, never recovered her former beauty, nor yet men of such wisdom and ability as did formerly in habit it.

That night Mr. Wischard was apprehended in the house of Ormstone, by the Earl Bothwel, suborned thereunto by the cardinal. The manner was thus: After sermon, he took his last farewel of all his friends in Haddington. John Knox would fain have gone with him; but he said, " Return to your children, and God bless you. One is sufficient For one sacrifice.” Then he went to the Laird of Ormstone, with some others that accompanied him. After supper he discoursed comfortably of God's love to his children; then he appointed the 51st Psalm to be sung, and so retired to his chamber. But before midnight the house was beset; and the Earl Bothwel called for the Laird of the house, and told him, That it was in vain to resist, for the governor and cardinal were within a mile, with great power. But if he would deliver Mr. Wischard to him, he would promise, upon his honor, that he should be safe, and that the cardinal should not hurt him. Mr. Wischard said, " Open the gates, the will of God be done." Bothwel coming in, Wischard said to him, "I praise my God that so honorable a man as you, my Lord, receive me this night; for I am persuaded that, for your honor's sake, you will. suffer nothing to be done to me but by order of law I less fear to die openly, than secretly to be murdered." Then Bothwel said, " I will not only preserve your body from all violence that shall be intended against you, without order of law, but I also promise, in the presence of these gentlemen, that neither the governor nor the cardinal shall have their will of you; but I will keep you in mine own house, till I either set you free, or restore you to the same place where I receive you." Then said the Lairds, "My Lord, if you make good your promise, which we presume you will, we ourselves will not only serve you, but we will procure all the professors in Lothian to do the same." These promises being made in the presence of GOD, and hands being stricken by both parties, the earl took Mr. Wischard, and so departed.

Mr. Wischard was carried to Edinburgh; but gold and women easily corrupt fleshly men; for the cardinal gave Bothwel gold; and the queen, that was too familiar with him, promised him her favor, if he would deliver Mr. Wischard into Edinburgh castle, which he did. Shortly after, he was delivered to the blood-thirsty cardinal, who, seeing that it was forbidden by their canon-law for a priest to sit as a judge, upon life and death, he sent to the governor, requesting him to appoint some lay judge to pass sentence of death upon Mr. Wisehard. The governor would easily have yielded to his request, but that David Hamilton, a godly man, told him, that he could expect no better end than Saul, if he persecuted the truth which formerly he had professed. Hereupon the governor sent the cardinal word,. that he would have no band in shedding the blood of that good man. The cardinal being angry, returned this answer, "That he had sent to him of mere civility, and that he would proceed without him;" and so, to the great grief of the godly, the cardinal carried Mr. Wischard to St. Andrews, and put him into the tower there; and without any long delay he caused all the bishops, and other great clergymen, to be called together to St. Andrews. And February 28, 1546, 1VIr. Wischard was sent for to appear before them, to give an account of his seditious and heretical doctrine, as they called it. The cardinal caused all his retinue to come armed to the place of their sitting, which was the abbey church. When Mr. Wischard was brought thither, there was a poor man lying at the door, that asked alms, to whom he flung his purse. Dean John Winryme, subprior of the abbey, was appointed to preach; whose sermon being ended, Wischard was put up into the pulpit to hear his charge. Then one Lauder, a priest, standing over against him, read a scroll full of bitter accusations and curses, so that the ignorant people thought that the earth would have opened and swallowed up Wischard quick. But he stood with great patience, without moving, or once changing his countenance. The priest, having ended his curses, spat at Mr. Wischard's face, saying, "What answerest thou you heretic, runagate, traitor, thief!" Then Mr. Wischard fell upon his knees, making his prayer unto God; after which he said, "Many and horrible savings unto me a Christian man, many words, abominable for to hear, have ye spoken here this day; which not only to teach, but even to think, I ever thought a great abomination." Then he gave them an account of his doctrine, answering to every article, as far as they would give him leave to speak. But they, without any regard to his sober and godly answers, presently condemned him to be burnt. After which sentence, he fell upon his knees, and said, "O immortal GOD, how long wilt you suffer the rage and great cruelty of the ungodly to exercise their fury upon thy servants, who do further thy Word in this world whereas they, on the contrary, seek to destroy the Truth, whereby you have revealed thyself to the world. O Lord, we know certainly that thy servants must needs suffer for thy name's sake, persecutions, afflictions, and troubles in this present world; yet we desire that you wouldst preserve and defend the church, which you have chosen before the foundations of the world, and give thy people grace to hear thy Word, and to be thy true servants in this present life."

Then were the common people put out, the bishops not desiring that they should hear the innocent man speak, and so they sent him again to the castle, till the fire should be made ready. In the castle came two friars to him,’requiring him to make confession to them; to whom he said, " I will make no confession to you; but fetch me the man who preached even now, and I will speak with him." Then was the sub-prior called, with whom he conferred a pretty while, till the sub-prior wept; who going to the cardinal, told him that he came not to intercede for Mr. Wischard's life, but to make known his innocency to all men; at which words the cardinal was very angry, saying, " We knew, long ago, what you were."

The captain of the castle with some friends, coming to Mr. Wischard, asked him if he would break his fast with them: "Yea, (said he,) very willingly, for I know you are honest men." In the mean time, he desired them to hear him a little; and so he discoursed to them about the Lord's Supper, his,sufferingsp and death for us, exhorting them to love one another, laying aside all rancor and malice, as becomes the members of Jesus CHRIST, who continually intercedes for us to his Father. Afterwards he gave thanks; and blessing the bread and wine, he took the bread and brake it, giving it to every one, saying, "Eat this: remember that CHRIST died for us, and feed on it spiritually." So, taking the cup, he bade them "remember that CHRIST's blood was shed for them." Then he gave thanks and prayed for them, and so retired into his chamber. Presently came two executioners to him from the cardinal, one put upon him a black linen coat, the other brought him bags of powder, which they tied about several parts of his body, and so they brought him forth to the place of execution; over against which place the castle windows were hung with rich hangings, and velvet cushions laid for the cardinal and prelates, who from thence fed their eyes with the torments of this innocent man. The cardinal fearing lest Wischard should be rescued by his friends, caused all the ordnance in the castle to be bent against the place of his execution, and commanded his gunners to stand ready all the time of his burning. Then were his hands bound behind his back, and so he was carried forth. In the way, some beggars met him, asking his alms for God's sake; to whom he said,," My hands are bound wherewith I was wont to give you alms, but the merciful Lord, who of his bounty and abundant grace feeds all men, vouchsafe to give you necessaries both for your bodies and souls."‘ Then two friars met him, persuading him to pray to our Lady to mediate for him; to whom he meekly said, "Cease; tempt nie not, I entreat you:" and so, with a rope about his neck, and a chain about his middle, he was led to the fire; where, falling upon his knees, he thrice repeated, "O you Savior of the world, have mercy upon me. Father of heaven, I commend my spirit into thy holy hands." Then, turning to the people, he said, (c Christian brethren and sisters, I beseech you be not offended at the Word of GOD, for the torments

which you see prepared for me; but I exhort you that you love the Word of God for your salvation, and suffer patiently, and with a comfortable heart, for the Word's sake, which is your undoubted salvation and everlasting comfort. I pray you also show my brethren and sisters which have often heard me, that they cease not to learn the Word of GOD, (which I taught them, according to the measure of grace given to me,) for any persecution or trouble in this world whatsoever: and show them that the doctrine was no old wives fables, but the truth of God. For if I had taught men's doctrine, I had had greater thanks from men. But for the Word of God's sake I now suffer, not sorrowfully, but with a glad heart and mind. For this cause I was sent into the world, that I should suffer this fire for CHRIST's sake. Behold my face! you shall not see me change my countenance. I fear riot the fire. And if persecution come to you for the Word's sake, I pray you fear not them that can kill the body, and have no power to hurt the soul." Then he, prayed for them which accused him, saying, " I beseech thee, Father of heaven, forgive them that have of ignorance, or of an evil mind, forged lies of me. I forgive them with all my heart. I beseech CHRIST to forgive them that have condemned me this day ignorantly." Then turning to the people again, he said, " I beseech you, brethren, exhort your prelates to learn the Word of GOD, that they may be ashamed to do evil, and learn to do good; or else there shall come upon them the wrath of GOD, which they shall not eschew." Then the executioner upon his knees, said, " Sir, I pray you, forgive me, for I am not the cause of your death." And he calling him to him, kissed his cheeks, saying, "Lo, here is the token that I forgive thee. My heart, do thine office." And so he was tied to the stake, and the fire kindled.

The captain of the castle coming near him, bade him be of good courage, and to beg for him the pardon of his sin; to wlIom Mr. Wischard said, "This fire torments my body, but no whit abates my spirits." Then, looking towards the cardinal, he said, " He who in such state from that high place, feeds his eyes with my torments, within a few days shall be hanged out of the same window, to be seen with as much ignominy as he now leans there with pride:" and so, his breath being stopped, he was consumed by the fire. This prophecy was fulfilled; for John Lesley, brother to the earl of Rothes, and Norman Lesley, his cousin, together with sixteen others, to revenge Wischard's death, at the people's instigation, surprised the' cardinal's castle; and Mr. Melvin, who had been very familiar with Wischard, entered his chamber soon after Mrs. Ogleby had left him, who had lain with him all night, and presenting him the point of his sword, said, " Repent thee of thy former wicked life, but especially of shedding the blood of Mr. Wischard, which cries for vengeance, and we are sent from God to revenge it:" and so he thrust him through the body; who, falling down, spoke not a word, only, " I am a priest! I am a priest Fie! fie! all is gone." After the cardinal was slain, the provost, raising the town, came to the castle gates, crying, "Where is my Lord Cardinal" They within answered, "Return, for he has received his reward." But they cried, " We will never depart till we see him." Then the Lesleys hung him out at the same window; so the people departed.

In the year 155O, Adam Wallace, a man of no great learning, but zealous in godliness, and of an upright life, by order of the bishop of St. Andrews, was apprehended and carried to Edinburgh. After a while, he was brought to judgment before Duke Hamilton, Huntly, and others. The bishops and their instruments accused him, that he took upon him to preach. He answered, "I never judged myself worthy so excellent a vocation, and therefore never took upon me to preach; but I deny not that in private places I often read the Word, and exhorted such as were willing to hear me." "Knave, (quoth one,) what have you to do to meddle with the Scriptures"

" I think, (said he,) it is every one's duty to labor to know the will of GOD, and to get assurance of his salvation, which is to be found in the Old and New Testament." "What then (said another,) shall we leave to the churchmen to do" He answered, " Their work is publicly to preach the gospel of Jesus CHRIST, and to feed the flock, which he has redeemed with his own blood, as all true pastors are commanded to do." The bishops being angry at this, charged him further, that he denied purgatory, praying to saints, and for the dead. He answered, " I have often read over the Bible, and yet found no mention of purgatory, nor command to pray to the saints, or for the dead; therefore I believe they are but mere inventions of men, devised for covetousness' sake." Then they asked him what he thought of the mass He answered, "I say as my Lord Jesus CHRIST said, That which is greatly esteemed before men, is an abomination before God." Then they all cried out, "Heresy, heresy;" and so adjudged him to the fire, which he - patiently underwent the same day upon the Castle-hill.