teach me to shote, as to learnye anye other thynge, and so I thinke other menne dyd theyr children. He taughte me how to drawe, how to laye my bodye in my bowe, and not to drawe wyth strenth of armes as other nacions do, but with strength of the bodye. I had my bowes boughte me accordyng to my age and strength as I bigger, for men shal neuer shot well, excepte they be encreased in them, so my bowes were made bigger, and broughte vp in it. It is a goodly art, a holsome kynde of exercise, and much commended in phisike. of it. afterwards disclaimed his abjuration, and suffered martyrdom. This did not abate the boldness of Latimer, who continued to preach openly, and even wrote a letter to Henry VIII. remonstrating against the prohibition of the Bible in English. His letter, although it failed to produce the desired result, seems to have given no offence to Henry, who soon afterwards presented Latimer to a living in Wiltshire, and in 1535 appointed him bishop of Worcester. After the fall of Anne Boleyn, the passing in parliament of the six articles establishGermany made a Mingle-mangle of their Religion. ing the doctrines of popery, induced him to resign his bishopric (July 1539). During the latter part Germany was visited xx. yeares wyth Goddes word, of Henry's reign, he suffered imprisonment; but but they dyd not earnestlye embrace it, and in lyfe being liberated after the accession of Edward VI. folowe it, but made a myngle mangle and a hotchpotch he became popular at court as a preacher, yet never could be prevailed on to resume his epis-religion mingeled together. They say in my contrye, I can not tell what, partely poperye, partelye true copal functions. In Mary's reign, when measures when they cal theyr hogges to the swyne troughe, were taken for the restoration of popery, Latimer Come to thy myngle mangle, come pyr, come pyr, euen was summoned before the council, and, though so they made mingle mangle of it. allowed an opportunity of escape, readily obeyed the citation, exclaiming, as he passed through Smithfield: "This place has long groaned for me.' After a close imprisonment of sixteen months at Oxford, Latimer was tried a second time. He was then old-above eighty-but he unhesitatingly refused to sign articles of subscription which were submitted to him, and suffered at the stake in 1555, exclaiming to his fellow-martyr, Bishop Ridley: 'Be of good comfort, Doctor Ridley, and play the man: we shall this day light such a candle, by God's grace, in England, as shall never be put out.' His sermons, a collection of which was published in 1570, are remarkable for a familiarity and drollery of style, which, though it would now be reckoned unsuitable for the pulpit, was highly popular in his own time, and produced a wonderful impression on his hearers. Cranmer and Latimer were instrumental in effecting a great improvement in the quality of clerical discourses, by substituting topics connected with moral duties for what was then the common subject-matter of sermons-namely, incredible and often ridiculous legendary tales of saints and martyrs, and accounts of miracles wrought for the confirmation of doctrines of the Catholic Church. Latimer's Account of his Parentage. trust From Seven Sermons Preached before Edward VI. 1549. My father was a Yoman, and had no landes of his owne, onlye he had a farme of iii. or iiii. pound by yere at the vttermost, and here vpon he tilled so much as kepte halfe a dosen men. He had walke for a hundred shepe, and my mother mylked xxx. kyne. He was able and did find the king a harnesse, wyth hym selfe, and hys horsse, whyle he came to ye place that he should receyue the kynges wages. I can remembre, yat I buckled hys harnes, when he went vnto Blacke heeath felde. He kept me to schole, or elles I had not bene able to haue preached before the kinges maiestie nowe. He maryed my systers, with v. pounde or xx. nobles a pece, so that he brought them vp in godlines, and feare of God. He kept hospitalitie for his pore neighbours. And sum almess he gaue to the poore, and all thys did he of the sayd farme. Wher he that now hath it, paieth xvi. pound by yere or more, and is not able to do any thing for his prynce, for himselfe, nor for his children, or geue a cup of drincke to the pore. Thus al the enhansinge and rearing goth to your priuate commoditie and wealth. ... In my tyme, my poore father was as diligent to They coulde clatter and prate of the Gospell, but when all commeth to al, they ioyned poperye so wyth it, that they marde all together, they scratched and scraped all the lyuynges of the churche, and vnder a couloure of relygion turned it to theyr owne proper gayne and lucre. God, seynge that they woulde not come vnto hys worde, now he visiteth them in the seconde tyme of hys visitacion word is a manyfest token of hys wrath. We have now with his wrathe. For the takynge awaye of Goddes a fyrst visitacyon in Englande, let vs beware of the seconde. We have the mynystracyon of hys worde, we are yet well, but the house is not cleane swepte yet. In the following extracts we have modernised the spelling: Bishop Latimer gives place to Robin Hood's Men. I came once myself to a place, riding on a journey homeward from London, and I sent word overnight into the town that I would preach there in the morning, because it was holyday, and methought it was holyday's work. The church stood in my way, and I took my horse, and my company, and went thither. I thought I should have found a great company in the church, and when I came there the church-door was fast locked. I tarried there half an hour and more; at last the key Sir, this is a busy day with us, we cannot hear you, it was found, and one of the parish comes to me and says: is Robin Hood's day. The parish are gone abroad to gather for Robin Hood; I pray you let [hinder] them not.' I was fain then to give place to Robin Hood. I thought my rochet should have been regarded, though I place to Robin Hood's men! It is no laughing matter, were not, but it would not serve; it was fain to give my friends, it is weeping matter, a heavy matter, a heavy matter, under the pretence for gathering for Robin Hood, a traitor and a thief, to put out a preacher, to have his office less esteemed, to prefer Robin Hood before the ministration of God's word; and all this hath come of unpreaching prelates. Cause and Effect-Story of Goodwin Sands and Here now I remember an argument of Master More's, which he bringeth in a book that he made against Bilney, and here, by the way, I will tell you a merry toy. Master More was once sent in commission into Kent, to help to try out, if it might be, what was the cause of Goodwin sands and the shelf that stopped up Sandwich haven. Thither cometh Master More, and calleth the country before him, such as were thought to be men of experience, and men that could of likelihood best certify him of that matter concerning the stopping of Sandwich haven. Among others came in before him an old man Wednesday; but it must be spoken in Latin: God's with a white head, and one that was thought to be little less than a hundred years old. When Master More saw this aged man, he thought it expedient to hear him say his mind in this matter; for, being so old a man, it was likely that he knew most of any man in that presence and company. So Master More called this old aged man unto him, and said: 'Father, tell me, if you can, what is the cause of this great rising of the sands and shelves here about this haven, the which stop it up, so that no ships can arrive here? Ye are the eldest man that I can espy in all this company, so that if any man can tell any cause of it, ye of likelihood can say most of it, or, at leastwise, more than any man here assembled.' 'Yea, forsooth, good master,' quoth this old man, for I am well-nigh a hundred years old, and no man here in this company anything near unto my age.' 'Well, then,' quoth Master More, 'how say you in this matter? What think ye to be the cause of these shelves and flats that stop up Sandwich haven?' 'Forsooth, sir,' quoth he, I am an old man; I think that Tenderden steeple is the cause of Goodwin sands; for I am an old man, sir,' quoth he, and I may remember the building of Tenderden steeple, and I may remember when there was no steeple at all there. And before that Tenderden steeple was in building, there was no manner of speaking of any flats or sands that stopped the haven, and therefore I think that Tenderden steeple is the cause of the destroy-Italian, and Spanish, and studied, what few then ing and decay of Sandwich haven.' And so to my purpose, preaching of God's word is the cause of rebellion, as Tenderden steeple was the cause that Sandwich haven is decayed. The Devil the most Diligent Preacher. From Sermon on the Ploughers, Jan. 1548-9. JOHN LELAND-GEORGE CAVENDISH. The first English antiquarian writer was JOHN LELAND, who was born in London about 1506, and received his education at St Paul's school in his native city, at Cambridge and Oxford, completing it by a residence of considerable duration at Paris. Leland was one of the earliest Greek scholars in England, was acquainted with French, gave any attention to, the Welsh and Saxon. Henry VIII. made him one of his chaplains, and bestowed sundry benefices upon him. Having a strong natural bent to antiquities, he obtained from the king a commission to inspect records, wherever placed, and, armed with this, he proceeded upon a tour of the whole kingdom. In six years he collected an immense mass of valuable papers, some of which he deposited in the king's library. Some are in Latin; but the most important work is in English, namely, his Itinerary—an account of his travels, and of the ancient remains which he visited, together with a catalogue of English writers. Leland died in London in 1552. GEORGE CAVENDISH was gentleman-usher to Cardinal Wolsey, and afterwards employed in the same capacity by Henry VIII. To the former he was strongly attached, and after the prelate's fall, he continued to serve him faithfully till his death. Cavendish died about 1562, leaving in manuscript a Life of Cardinal Wolsey, in which, while he admits the arrogant disposition of his old master, he highly extols his general character.* Mr S. W. Singer has printed, for the first time, Metrical Visions by Cavendish, concerning the fortunes and fall of some of the most eminent persons of his time. Respecting the Life of Wolsey, he observes: 'There is a sincere and impartial adherence to truth, a reality, in Cavendish's narrative, which bespeaks the confidence of his reader, and very much increases his pleasure. It is a work without pretension, but full of natural elo I would ask a strange question: Who is the most diligentest bishop and prelate in all England, that passeth all the rest in doing his office? I can tell, for I know him, who it is; I know him well. But now I think I see you listening and hearkening that I should name him. There is one that passeth all the other, and is the most diligent prelate and preacher in all England. And will you know who it is? I will tell you; it is the devil. He is the most diligent preacher of all other; he is never out of his diocess; he is never from his cure; ye shall never find him unoccupied; he is ever in his parish; he keepeth residence at all times; ye shall never find him out of the way; call for him when you will, he is ever at home; the diligentest preacher in all the realm; he is ever at his plough; no lording or loitering can hinder him; he is ever applying his business; ye shall never find him idle, I warrant you. And his office is to hinder religion, to maintain superstition, to set up idolatry, to teach all kind of popery. He is ready as he can be wished for to set forth his plough; to devise as many ways as can be to deface and obscure God's glory. Where the devil is resident, and hath his plough going, there away with books, and up with candles; away with Bibles, and up with beads; away with the light of the gospel, and up with the light of candles, yea, at noon-days. Where the devil is resident, that he may prevail, up with all superstition and idolatry; censing, painting of images, candles, palms, ashes, holy water, and new service of men's invent:quence, devoid of the formality of a set rhetorical ing; as though man could invent a better way to honour God with than God himself hath appointed. Down with Christ's cross, up with purgatory pick purse, up with him, the popish purgatory, I mean. Away with clothing the naked, the poor, and impotent; up with decking of images, and gay garnishings of stocks and stones: up lished under the title of The Negotiations of Thomas Wolsey; but *This work did not appear in print till 1641, when it was pubwith man's traditions and his laws, down with God's as the chief object of sending it forth was to reconcile the nation to traditions and His most Holy Word. Down with the the death of Archbishop Laud, by drawing a parallel between the old honour due to God, and up with the new god's two prelates, the manuscript, before it went to the press, was greatly honour. Let all things be done in Latin: there must be however, published in 1810 by Dr Wordsworth, in the first volume mutilated by abridgment and interpolation. A correct copy was, nothing but Latin, not so much as 'Remember, man, of his Ecclesiastical Biography; and it has since been reprinted that thou art ashes, and into ashes thou shalt return: separately in 1825, by Mr Samuel Weller Singer, along with a which be the words that the minister speaketh unto the dissertation by the Rev. Joseph Hunter, proving the author to have been George Cavendish, and not his brother Sir William, as ignorant people, when he giveth them ashes upon Ash-stated in the Biographia Britannica, and later publications. composition, unspoiled by the affectation of that classical manner in which all biography and history of old time was prescribed to be written, and which often divests such records of the attraction to be found in the conversational style of Cavendish. . . . Our great poet has literally followed him in several passages of his King Henry VIII. merely putting his language into verse. Add to this the historical importance of the work, as the only sure and authentic source of information upon many of the most interesting events of that reign; and from which all historians have largely drawn (through the secondary medium of Holinshed and Stow, who adopted Cavendish's narrative), and its intrinsic value need not be more fully expressed.' King Henry's Visits to Wolsey's House. And when it pleased the king's majesty, for his recreation, to repair unto the cardinal's house, as he did divers times in the year, at which time there wanted no preparations, or goodly furniture, with viands of the finest sort that might be provided for money or friendship; such pleasures were then devised for the king's comfort and consolation, as might be invented, or by man's wit imagined. The banquets were set forth with masks and mummeries, in so gorgeous a sort and costly manner, that it was a heaven to behold. There wanted no dames or damsels, meet or apt to dance with the maskers, or to garnish the place for the time with other goodly disports. Then was there all kind of music and harmony set forth, with excellent voices both of men and children. I have seen the king suddenly come in thither in a mask, with a dozen of other maskers, all in garments like shepherds, made of fine cloth of gold, and fine crimson satin paned, and caps of the same, with visors of good proportion of visnomy; their hairs and beards either of fine gold wire, or else of silver, and some being of black silk; having sixteen torch-bearers, besides their drums, and other persons attending upon them, with visors, and clothed all in satin, of the same colours. And at his coming, and before he came into the hall, ye shall understand that he came by water to the watergate, without any noise, where, against his coming, were laid charged many chambers, and at his landing they were all shot off, which made such a rumble in the air, that it was like thunder. It made all the noblemen, ladies, and gentlewomen to muse what it should mean coming so suddenly, they sitting quietly at a solemn banquet. Then, immediately after this great shot of guns, the cardinal desired the lord chamberlain and comptroller to look what this sudden shot should mean, as though he knew nothing of the matter. They thereupon looking out of the windows into Thames, returned again, and shewed him, that it seemed to them there should be some noblemen and strangers arrived at his bridge, as ambassadors from some foreign prince.... Then quoth the cardinal to my lord chamberlain: 'I pray you,' quoth he, shew them that it seemeth me that there should be among them some nobleman, whom I suppose to be much more worthy of honour to sit and occupy this room and place than I; to whom I would most gladly, if I knew him, surrender my place according to my duty.' Then spake my lord chamberlain unto them in French, declaring my lord cardinal's mind; and they rounding him again in ear, my lord chamberlain said to my lord cardinal: Sir, they confess,' quoth he, 'that among them there is such a noble personage, whom, if your grace can appoint him from the other, he is contented to disclose himself, and to accept your place most worthily.' With that the cardinal, taking a good advisement among them, at the last, quoth he: Me seemeth the gentleman with the black beard should be even he.' And with that he arose out of his chair, and offered the same to the gentleman in the black beard, with his cap in his hand. The person to whom he offered then his chair was Sir Edward Neville, a comely knight of a goodly personage, that the ... 1 Short guns or cannon without carriages, chiefly used for festive occasions. 2 Whispering. much more resembled the king's person in that mask than any other. The king, hearing and perceiving the cardinal so deceived in his estimation and choice, could not forbear laughing; but plucked down his visor, and Master Neville's also, and dashed out with such a pleasant bled, seeing the king to be there amongst them, rejoiced countenance and cheer, that all noble estates1 there assemvery much. The cardinal eftsoons desired his highness to take the place of estate, to whom the king answered, that he would go first and shift his apparel; and so departed, and went straight into my lord's bedchamber, where was a great fire made and prepared for him, and there new apparelled him with rich and princely garments. And in the time of the king's absence, the dishes of the banquet were clean taken up, and the table spread sitting still until the king and his maskers came in among again with new and sweet perfumed cloths; every man them again, every man being newly apparelled. Then the king took his seat under the cloth of estate, commanding no man to remove, but sit still, as they did before. Then in came a new banquet before the king's majesty, and to all the rest through the tables, wherein, I suppose, were served two hundred dishes, or above, of wondrous costly meats and devices, subtilly devised. Thus passed they forth the whole night with banqueting, dancing, and other triumphant devices, to the great comfort of the king, and pleasant regard of the nobility there assembled. The Death of Wolsey (November 29, 1530). Then was he in confession the space of an hour. And when he had ended his confession, Master Kingston came to him, and bade him good-morrow, for it was about six of the clock, and asked him how he did. 'Sir,' quoth he, 'I tarry but the pleasure of God, to render up my poor soul into his hands.' 'Not so, sir,' quoth Master Kingston, with the grace of God, you shall live and do very well, if you will be of good cheer.' 'Nay, in good sooth, Master Kingston, my disease is such that I cannot live; for I have had some experience in physic. If I had served God as diligently as I have done the king, he would not have given me over in my gray hairs. But this is the just reward that I must receive for my diligent pains and study that I have had to do him service; not regarding my service to God, but only to satisfy his pleasure. I pray you have me most humbly commended unto his royal majesty, and beseech him in my behalf, to call to his princely remembrance all matters proceeding between him and me from the beginning of the world and the progress of the same; and most especially in his weighty matter (meaning the matter between good Queen Katharine and him); and then shall his grace's conscience know whether I have offended him or no. He is a prince of royal courage, and hath a princely heart; and rather than he will miss or want any part of his will or pleasure, he will endanger the loss of one half of his realm. For I assure you, I have often kneeled before him the space sometimes of three hours to persuade him from his will and appetite; but I could never dissuade him therefrom. Therefore, Master Kingston, I warn you, if it chance you hereafter to be of his privy council, as for your wisdom you are very meet, be well assured and advised what you put into his head, for you shall never put it out again. 'And say, furthermore, that I request his grace, on God's name, that he have a vigilant eye to depress this new sort of Lutherans, that it do not increase through his negligence, in such a sort, as he be at length compelled to put on harness upon his back to subdue them. Master Kingston, farewell. I can no more say; but I wish, ere I die, all things to have good success. My time draweth on fast. I may not tarry with you. And forget not what I have said and charged you withal; for when I am dead, ye shall peradventure remember my words better.' And even with these words, he began to 2 Immediately. 1 Persons of rank. 5 draw his speech at length, and his tongue to fail—his eyes being presently set in his head, whose sight failed him. Then began we to put him in remembrance of Christ's passion, and caused the yeoman of the guard to stand by secretly to see him die, and to be witness of his words at his departure, who heard all his said communication; and incontinent the clock struck eight, and then he gave up the ghost, and thus he departed this present life. And calling to remembrance how he said the day before, that at eight of the clock we should lose our master, as it is before rehearsed, one of us looking upon another, supposing that he either knew or prophesied of his departure; yet before his departure, we sent for the abbot of the house to annoyle 1 him, who made all the speed he could, and came to his departure, and so said certain prayers before the breath was fully out of his body. Here is the end and fall of pride and arrogancy of men exalted by fortune to dignities! LORD BERNERS. LORD BERNERS, another favourite of Henry VIII. under whom he was chancellor of the exchequer, and governor of Calais, is known chiefly as the author of a translation of the French chronicler, Froissart. His version of that fascinating narrative of contemporary events in England, France, Flanders, Scotland, and other countries," was executed by the king's command, and appeared in 1523. It is an excellent sample of the English language of that period, being remarkable for the purity and nervousness of its style.† Lord Berners wrote also The History of the Most Noble and Valiant Knight, Arthur of Little Britain, and other works, translated from the French and Spanish; he was likewise the author of a book on The Duties of the Inhabitants of Calais. From his translation of Froissart (which was reprinted in 1812), we extract the following passages, modernising the spelling: Battle of Cressy. When the French king saw the Englishmen, his blood changed, and [he] said to his marshals: 'Make the Genoese go on before, and begin the battle in the name of God and St Denis.' There were of the Genoese crossbows about a fifteen thousand, but they were so weary of going afoot that day, a six leagues, armed with their cross-bows, that they said to their constables: We be not well ordered to fight this day, for we be not in the case to do any great deed of arms; we have more need of rest.' These words came to the Earl of Alençon, who said: 'A man is well at ease to be charged with such a sort of rascals, to be faint and fail now at most need.' Also, the same season, there fell a great rain and an eclipse, with a terrible thunder; and before the rain, there came flying over the battles a great number of crows for fear of the tempest coming. Then anon the air began to wax clear, and the sun to shine fair and bright, the which was right in the Frenchmen's eyen, and on the Englishmen's back. When the Genoese were assembled together, and began to approach, they made a great leap and cry, to abash the Englishmen; but they stood still, and stirred not for all that. Then the Genoese again the second time made another leap and a fell cry, and stepped forward a little; and the Englishmen removed not one foot. Thirdly again, they leaped and cried, and went forth till they came within shot; then they shot fiercely with their cross-bows. Then the English archers stepped forth one pace, and let fly their arrows so wholly and thick that it seemed snow. When the Genoese felt the arrows piercing through heads and arms and breasts, many of them cast down their crossbows, and did cut their strings, and returned discomfited. When the French king saw them flee away, he said: 'Slay these rascals, for they shall let and trouble us without reason.' Then ye should have seen the menat-arms dash in among them, and killed a great number of them, and ever still the Englishmen shot whereas they saw the thickest press; the sharp arrows ran into the men-at-arms and into their horses; and many fell horse and men among the Genoese; and when they were down, they could not relieve again; the press was so thick that one overthrew another. And also, among the Englishmen, there were certain rascals that went on foot with great knives, and they went in among the men-atarms, and murdered many as they lay on the ground, both earls, barons, knights, and squires, whereof the king of England was after displeased, for he had rather they had been taken prisoners. Edward IV. and the Countess of Salisbury. set open the gates and came out so richly beseen, that As soon as the lady knew of the king's coming, she every man marvelled of her beauty, and could not cease to regard her nobleness, with her great beauty and the gracious words and countenance that she made. When she came to the king, she knelt down to the earth, thanking him of his succours, and so led him into the castle to make him cheer and honour, as she could right well do it. Every man regarded her marvellously; the king himself could not withhold his regarding of her, for he thought that he never saw before so noble nor so fair a lady. He was stricken therewith to the heart with a spirit of fine love that endured long after. He thought no lady in the world so worthy to be beloved as she. Thus they entered into the castle hand in hand. The lady led him first into the hall, and after into the chamber nobly apparelled. The king regarded so the lady, that she was abashed. At last he went to a window to rest him, and so fell into a great study. The lady went about to make cheer to the lords and knights that were there, and commanded to dress the hall for dinner. When she had all devised and commanded, she came to the king with a merry cheer (who was in a great study), and she said: 'Dear sir, why do you study so, for, your grace not displeased, it appertaineth not to your grace to do so; rather, ye should make good cheer and be joyful, seeing ye have chased away your enemies, who durst not abide you; let other men study for the remynant.' Then the king said: 'Ah, dear lady, know for truth, that sith I entered into the castle, there is a study come to my mind, so that I cannot choose but to muse, nor I cannot tell what shall fall through; put it out of my heart I cannot.' 'Ah, sir,' quoth the lady, 'ye ought always to make good cheer to comfort therewith your people. God hath aided you so in your business, and hath given you so great graces, that ye be the most doughty and honoured prince in all Christendom; and if the king of Scots have done you any despite or damage, ye may well amend it when it shall please you as ye have done divers times ere this. Sir, leave your musing, and come into the hall, if it please you; your dinner is all ready.' 'Ah, fair lady,' quoth the king, 'other things lyeth at my heart that ye know not of, but surely your sweet behaving, the perfect wisdom, the good grace, nobleness, and excellent beauty that I see in you, hath so sore surprised my heart that I cannot but love you, and without your love I am but dead.' Then the lady said: 'Ah, right noble prince, for God's sake mock nor tempt me not. I cannot believe that it is true that ye say, nor that so noble a prince as ye be would think to dishonour me and my lord, my husband, who is so valiant a knight, and hath done your grace so good service, and, as yet, lyeth in prison for your quarrel. Certainly, sir, ye should in this case have but a small prize and nothing the better thereby. I had never, as yet, had such a thought in my heart, nor, I trust in God, never shall have for no man living. If I had any such intention, your grace ought not only to blame me, but also to punish my body, yea, and by true justice, to be dismembered.' Therewith the lady departed from the king, and brought some of his knights with her, and said: 'Sir, if it please you to come into the hall; your knights abideth for you to wash; ye have been too long fasting.' Then the king went into the hall, and washed, and sat down among his lords, and the lady also. The king ate but little, he sat still musing, and, as he durst, he cast his eyes upon the lady. Of his sadness his knights had marvel, for he was not accustomed so to be. Some thought it was because the Scots were escaped from him. All that day the king tarried there and wist not what to do. Sometime he imagined that honour and truth defended him not to set his heart in such a case to dishonour such a lady and so true a knight as her husband was, who had always well and truly served him. the other part, love so constrained him, that the power thereof surmounted honour and truth. Thus the king debated in himself all that day and all that night. In the morning he arose and dislodged all his host, and On drew after the Scots to chase them out of his realm. Then he took leave of the lady, saying: 'My dear lady, to God I commend you till I return again, requiring you to advise you otherwise than ye have said to me.' 'Noble prince,' quoth the lady, 'in God the father, glorious be your conduct, and put you out of all villain thoughts! Sir, I am, and ever shall be ready to do your grace service to your honour and to mine.' Therewith the king departed all abashed. BISHOP BALE. cheerful countenance. Then was he laid upon an hurdle, as though he had been a most heinous traitor to the crown, and so drawn forth into Saint Giles' Field, where as they had set up a new pair of gallows. As he was coming to the place of execution, and was taken from the hurdle, he fell down devoutly upon his knees, desiring Almighty God to forgive his enemies. Than stood he up and beheld the multitude, exhorting them in most godly manner to follow the laws of God written in the Scriptures, and in any wise to beware of such teachers as they see contrary to Christ in their conversation and living, with many other special counsels. Then he was hanged up there by the middle in chains of iron, and so consumed alive in the fire, praising the name of God, so long as his life lasted. In the end he commended his soul into the hand of God, and so departed hence most Christenly, his body resolved into ashes. WILLIAM TYNDALE. The Reformation led to the publication of three versions of the Bible, which were perhaps the most important scholastic efforts of the reign of Henry VIII. The first part of the Scriptures printed in an English form was the New Testament, of which a translation was published in 1526 by WILLIAM TYNDALE, born in Gloucestershire, about the year 1477, a clergyman of great piety, learning, and gentleness of disposition. In the course of his labours he endured such persecution, that, in 1523, he found it necessary to quit England, and retire into Germany. He there visited Luther, who encouraged him in his laborious and hazardous undertaking. Antwerp was the place where Tyndale's translation of the New Testament was first printed. It was speedily circulated, and eagerly perused in England, notwithstanding the severe persecution to which its possessors were exposed. Sir Thomas More distinguished himself as a most virulent opponent of Tyndale, against whom he published seven volumes of controversy, where such violent language as the following is employed: 'Our Saviour will say to Tyndale: Thou art JOHN BALE, bishop of Ossory, in Ireland (1495 accursed, Tyndale, the son of the devil; for neither 1563), was the author of many tracts against flesh nor blood hath taught thee these heresies, popery, both in Latin and English; but his most but thine own father, the devil, that is in hell.'celebrated production is a Latin Account of the There should have been more burned by a great Lives of Eminent Writers of Great Britain, extending, as the title expresses it, from Japhet, one many than there have been within this seven year of the sons of Noah, to the year 1557. Bale left last past. The lack whereof, I fear me, will make also many curious metrical productions in the more [be] burned within this seven year next English language, including several dramatic coming, than else should have needed to have been pieces on sacred subjects. Among these are inter- burned in seven score. Ah, blasphemous beast, ludes on John the Baptist's preaching; on the to whose roaring and lowing no good Christian childhood, temptation, passion, and resurrection man can without heaviness of heart give ear!' of Christ; on the Lord's Supper, and washing the Tyndale translated also the first five books of the disciples' feet, &c. All these pieces were doubt-Old Testament, the publication of which was comless performed in a grave and devout spirit; for Bale himself mentions that the first of them which may be seen in the Harleian Miscellanyand his tragedy of God's Promises, were acted by young men at the market-cross of Kilkenny upon a Sunday. In 1544, he published A Brefe Chronycle concernynge the Examinacyon and Death of the Blessed Martyr of Christ, Sir Johan Oldecastell the Lorde Cobham, from which we extract the account of Cobham's death. He suffered in 1417, for supporting the doctrines of Wycliffe, and was the first martyr among the English nobility, Death of Lord Cobham. Upon the day appointed, he was brought out of the Tower with his arms bound behind him, having a very pleted in 1530. Efforts were made by King Henry, where they hoped to destroy him; but he was too Wolsey, and More to allure him back to England, Frith, who had assisted him in translating, was cautious to trust himself there. His friend, John more credulous of their promises of safety, and returning to London, was apprehended and burned. Tyndale remained at Antwerp, till entrapped by an agent of Henry, who procured at Brussels a further proceedings, he was first strangled and warrant to apprehend him for heresy. After some then burned at Vilvoorden, near Antwerp, in September 1536, exclaiming at the stake: "Lord, open the king of England's eyes!' Tyndale's translation of the New Testament is, on the whole, admirable both for style and accuracy; and indeed our present authorised version |