a murderer, an adulterer; but I die as a witness of Christ, his gospel, and truth, which hitherto I have confessed, I thank God, as well by preaching as by imprisonment; and now, even presently, I shall most willingly confirm the same by fire. I acknowledge that God might most justly take me hence simply for my sins, which are many, great, and grievous; but the Lord, for his mercy in Christ, hath pardoned them all, I hope; but now, dear mother, he takes me hence, by this death, as a confessor and witness, that the religion taught by Christ Jesus, the prophets, and the apostles, is God's truth. The prelates do persecute in me Christ, whom they hate, and his truth, which they may not abide, because their works are evil, and may not abide the truth and light, lest men should see their darkness. Therefore, my good and most dear mother, give thanks for me to God, that he has made the fruit of your womb to be a witness of his glory; and attend to the truth, which, I thank God for it, I have truly taught out of the pulpit at Manchester. Use often and continual prayer to God the Father, through Christ; hearken, as you may, to the Scriptures; serve God after his word, and not after custom; beware of the Romish religion in England; defile not yourself with it; carry Christ's cross, as he shall lay it upon your back; forgive them that kill me; pray for them, for they know not what they do; commit my cause to God our Father; be mindful of both your daughters, to help them as you can.

I send all my writings to you, by my brother

Roger; do with them as you will, because I cannot as I would. He can tell you more of my mind. I have nothing to give you or leave behind me for you; only I pray God my Father, for his Christ's sake, to bless you and keep you from evil. May he give you patience, may he make you thankful, for me, and for yourself, that he will take your child to witness his verity; wherein I confess to the whole world that I die and depart this life, in hope of one much better, which I look for at the hands of God my Father, through the merits of his dear Son, Jesus Christ.

Thus, my dear mother, I take my last farewell of you in this life; beseeching the Almighty and eternal Father, by Christ, to grant us to meet in the life to come, where we shall give him continual thanks and praise for ever and ever. Out of prison, the 24th of June, 1555.

Your son in the Lord,

JOHN BRADFord.

LETTER VII.

JOHN BRADFORD to AUGUSTINE BERNEHER, respecting the preparation for his martyrdom.

To mine own good Augustine. Dear brother Augustine, I cannot but be beholden to you in my need, and therefore I write as I do. Come hither (')

(') To the Poultry Compter.

betimes, I pray you, in the morning, and use so to do; for then I think you shall speak with me. Also, come late in the evening, and let me know whether in the day-time I may send for you. Pray Walsh to steal you in, as I hope he will do. If he bring you in, then shall this which follows not need; but I write this doubting the worst:-First, desire my man William to make all things ready for me, for I am persuaded I shall go into Lancashire there to be burned, howbeit they say I must first go to the Fleet. Then desire him to hearken early in the morning whether I am not conveyed away before men be aware. Also, I pray you, desire Robert Harrington, who I hope will go with me, to look for that journey. Visit often my dear sister, and although I cannot now write unto her, as I would, (for all things are more strange here, and the case more and more perilous,) yet tell her that I am careful for her; desire her to be of good comfort— God shall give us to meet in his kingdom. In the mean season I will pray for her as my dearest sister. Of truth I never did love her half so well as I now do: and yet I love her not half so well as I would do; she is a true daughter of Abraham. I pray thee heartily be joyful, my good brother, and desire all my friends so to be; for I thank God, I feel a greater benefit than all the bishops in England can take from me. Praise God and pray for me, mine own dear heart in the Lord, whom I hope I shall never forget.

Your poor brother in the Lord,
JOHN BRADFORD.

LETTER VIII.

JOHN BRADFORD to LADY VANE.-"Death swallowed up in victory." Written in prison after his condemnation.

OUR dear and most meek Father always be with us, for his Christ's sake, and guide us as his children for ever.

Your comfortable and necessary letters last sent to me, right worshipful and dearly beloved, deserve at my hands, as your other benefits have done, that which I cannot give. May the Lord my God recompense you, as he can and will, undoubtedly.

Now am I going to my good Father and your Father; now am I going to my Christ and your Christ; now am I going to my home and your home. I go before, but you shall follow: how beit, when or which way, I know not; the Lord knoweth. Unto his providence and will commend yourself, for it cannot but come to pass, and there is nothing so good to us as it is. Happy were we that ever we were born, that God might set forth his glory by us, howsoever he does it. Though I am led, as was said to Peter, whither I would not, yet give thanks with me and for me, that it pleases Father thus to lead me. I have deserved, yea, my even since I came into this prison, many a shameful death such and so great are my ingratitude and sins. But, lo, the tender kindness of my Father corrects me as a child and son, making the remedy for my sins an occasion for his glory, a

witnessing of his truth, a confirmation of his true religion, heretofore set forth and preached by me; wherein, good madam, persist, and you shall be safe. Be not ashamed of it now, for though it seems to be overcome, yet by suffering it overcometh, that God's wisdom, which is foolishness to the world, and God's power, which is weakness to the reason of man, may triumph and confound that which the world thinks wise and mighty. Now I begin to be Christ's disciple: now I begin to be fashioned like to my Master in suffering, that I may be so in reigning. Now I for ever take my farewell of you in this life. Now I commend myself into the hands of my Father, by whose providence I came into this world, by whose providence I have been kept in this world, and by whose providence I depart hence. And as his providence is towards me, so doubt you not but it is towards you, though not in such sort exteriorly, yet in such love, solicitude, and carefulness for you, interiorly. God, our God, and Father of mercy, for the blood of his Christ, wash away all our sins, comfort his church, strengthen the weak, convert, or confound, as may make most to his glory, his enemies, and be with us Emmanuel for ever.

In haste, out of prison, the 5th of February, 1555.

JOHN BRADFORD.

VOL. I.