LETTER IX.

BISHOP RIDLEY to MASTER WEST, formerly his Chaplain, in reply to a letter, in which the latter had told him, he must either turn or die. (1)

I WISH you grace in God and love of the truth, without which, truly established in men's hearts by the mighty hand of Almighty God, it is no more possible to stand by the truth in Christ in time of trouble, than it is for the wax to abide the heat of the fire.

Sir, know this, that I am, blessed be God! persuaded that this world is but transitory; and as St. John saith, "The world passeth away, and the lust thereof." I am persuaded Christ's words are true: "Whosoever shall confess me before men, him will I confess also before my Father which is in heaven." And I believe that no earthly creature shall be saved, whom the Redeemer and Saviour of the world shall deny before his Father. The Lord grant that this may be so grafted, established, and fixed in my heart, that neither things present, nor to come, high nor low, life nor death, be able to remove me thence,

It is a goodly wish, that you wish me deeply to consider things pertaining unto God's glory: but

(1) West had recanted after Queen Mary's accession. He died before Ridley; it is said, and apparently with good reason, that his death was hastened by remorse of conscience.

if you had wished also, that neither fear of death, nor hope of worldly prosperity, should hinder me from maintaining God's word and his truth, which is his glory and true honour, it would have liked me well. You desire me for God's sake to remember myself. Indeed, sir, now it is time so to do; for, so far as I can perceive, no less danger is before me than the loss both of my body and soul; and, I think, then, it is time for a man to awake, if any thing will awake him. He that will not fear him, that threatens to cast both body and soul into everlasting fire, whom will he fear? With this fear, O Lord! fasten thou together our frail flesh, that we never swerve from thy laws. You say, you have God grant, that you have not in suing for my worldly deliverance, impaired and hindered the furtherance of God's word and his truth.

made much suit for me.

I like very well your plain speaking, wherein you say, "I must either agree or die;" and, I think, that you mean of the bodily death, which is common both to the good and bad. Sir, I know I must die, whether I agree or not. But what folly were it then to make such an agreement, by which I could never escape this death, which is common to all, and should also incur the guilt of death and eternal damnation! Lord, grant that I may utterly abhor and detest this damnable agreement so long as I live.

And because, I dare say, you wrote from friendship unto me this short, earnest advertisement; and, I think, verily wishing me to live, and not to

die, therefore, bearing towards you in my heart no less love in God, than you do to me in the world,

I

say unto you, in the word of the Lord-and what I say to you, I say to all my friends and lovers in God-that if you do not confess and maintain to your power and knowledge, that which is grounded upon God's word, but will either, for fear or gain of the world, shrink and play the apostate, indeed you shall die the death-you know what I mean. And I beseech you all, my true friends and lovers in God, remember what I say, for this may be the last time, peradventure, that ever I shall write unto you. From Bocardo, in Oxford, the 8th day of April,

1555.

NICHOLAS RIDLEY.

LETTER X.

From JEREMY TAYLOR, after the loss of two hopeful children, to J. EVELYN, Esq.

DEAR SIR,

February 22, 1657.

I KNOW you will either excuse or acquit, or at least pardon me that I have so long seemingly neglected to make a return to your so kind and friendly letter; when I shall tell you that I have passed through a great cloud which hath wetted me deeper than the skin. It hath pleased God to send the small-pox and fevers among my children; and I have, since I received your last, buried two sweet,

hopeful boys; and have now but one son left, whom I intend, if it please God, to bring up to London before Easter, and then I hope to wait upon you, and by your sweet conversation and other divertisements, if not to alleviate my sorrow, yet, at least, to entertain myself, and keep me from too intense and actual thinkings of my trouble. Dear sir, will you do so much for me as to beg my pardon of Mr. Thurland, that I have yet made no return to him for his so friendly letter and expressions. Sir, you see there is too much matter to make excuse: my sorrow will at least render me an object of every good man's pity and commiseration. But, for myself, I bless God, I have observed and felt so much mercy in this angry dispensation of God, that I am almost transported; I am sure, highly pleased with thinking how infinitely sweet his mercies are, when his judgments are so gracious. Sir, there are many particulars in your letter which I would fain have answered; but, still, my little sadnesses intervene, and will yet suffer me to write nothing else, but that I beg your prayers, and that you will still own me to be,

Dear and honoured Sir, affectionate friend and hearty servant, JEREMY TAYLOR.

LETTER XI.

PHILIP HENRY to his WIFE; from prison.

DEAR HEART,

I CONTINUE very well at present,-thanks be to God!—and feel nothing yet of the inconveniences of a prison. We are better accommodated, as I acquainted you in my last, than we could have expected, though we must pay for it. Just now, six ministers, nonconformists, are brought in hither from Lancashire, more than before; so far are we from enlargement. But our times are in God's hand, who hath sent us hither, I am confident, for good, though how, or which way, or wherein, I know not; but " He is faithful who hath promised.” My chamber-fellows and I differ something in our apprehensions of things past, which will not be helped; but for the unseen things that are to come, that are eternal, we are all one. Our afternoons, till late, are filled with visitants, who love us and wish us well, and are kind to us; but we cannot do with them what we would.

Mrs. Wenlock was to see me yesterday, and brought me a bottle of wine. I bestow all of that kind in common with my companions, strangers here. Let me hear from you how you do, and the children, as oft as you can. Love to Matthew. Our guards change every hour, which makes it so very hard to come to us. I would gladly see him ;