persecution of Baptists by the Tudors? Did their courage fail them in the moment of trial? Did fine, imprisonment, torture, and the prospect of martyrdom, deter them from the advocacy of their opinions? Were Baptists "trampled out" by these severely repres sive measures during the century spanned by the House of Tudor?

That some who had avowed their belief in the doctrines commonly held by the early Baptists recanted, when the rack dislocated their limbs, and the shadow of the stake fell upon them, is no more than one might expect. It is not every woman that could bear to have her joints racked," and lie still, and not cry," as Ann Askew did, and even suffer "her bones and joints to be pluckt asunder in such sort that she was nigh to death." It is not every man that could face boldly his scowling judges, when they were athirst for his blood, and extort the declaration from one of them, that "he was the most unshamefaced heretic he ever saw ;" and then, after being "baited," now by one inquisitor, and now by another, go back to his prison cell, and write cheery letters to his wife, sending therewith "a threepenny token, and comfits for little Katherine;" two nutmegs, 66 a poor prisoner's gift" to some friends; two pieces of Spanish money, and a key-log for a token to his wife, wishing "she could make a means for her money to send a cheese to Peter;" and in the midst of these touching little traits of human and home feeling, bursting out into the passionate petition, "Be fervent in prayer! Pray, pray, pray! that God would, of His mercy, put up His sword, and look on His people!" But though some could not endure the fiery trial, many still showed as much heroism as this "yeoman of the guard at Windsor."

Many examples might be quoted to illustrate the constancy and heroism of men and women, some from the bead-roll of martyrs who fell, now under "the mild and gentle Cranmer," now under the brutal hand of the blood-thirsty Bonner, now in the days of Queen Elizabeth; but the details of any one of these examples are too long to be given in this brief paper.

There are also ample proofs that the Baptists under the Tudors were not deterred from advocating their opinions, either by the fear of prison or stake. A remarkable society, known as "The Association of Christian Brothers," was formed in London sixteen years after Henry VIII. ascended the throne. "It was composed of poor men, chiefly tradesmen, artisans, and a few-very few of the clergy; but it was carefully organized; it was provided with moderate funds, which were regularly audited; and its paid agents went up and down the country carrying Testaments and tracts with them, and enrolling in their order all persons who dared to risk their lives in such a course." Some of these men were Baptists, as was proved in their examinations. on, we find ladies took their share in making known God's precious truth, one of them "tying the books in strings under her apparel, and so passing with them into court." When Ridley was Bishop of London, instructions were issued to his clergy to inquire "whether Anabaptists or other sects held conventicles, preached heterodoxies, or

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administered the sacraments in a manner different from the public establishment;" and there was presently brought to light a society of Baptists at Bocking, in Essex, and at Faversham, in Kent, who had at least four ministers; and, at the time they were pounced upon by the sheriff at their meeting-house in Bocking, were found to have a congregation of upwards of sixty persons. They confessed that they had met "to talk the Scriptures," and that they had not communed at the parish church for two years. Here were some of "the milder sort; but what was their treatment? Some were fined, and set at liberty. Others were imprisoned, and remained there until Queen Mary came to the throne, when they were released, only again to be taken into custody and to the stake. A book written by John Veron, at the same period as Ridley's visitation, gives further evidence of the activity of Baptists in Essex, and seeks to incite magistrates to hunt out these "heretics" by defaming their character. "These Libertines and Anabaptists," says Veron, "are running in, 'hoker moker,' among the simple and ignorant people, to impel and move them to tumult and insurrection against the magistrates and rulers of this realm." "Talking the Scriptures," and holding that the civil power was "neither profitable nor necessary to a Christian common weal," they were to be dealt with as rogues and vagabonds, and worse. The same county (Essex) has the honour of yielding scores of Baptist martyrs during the gloomy reign of Mary; and so prevalent were they, notwithstanding all the burnings, that the commissioners, writing to their masters in the last days of that bigoted Queen, say, "Would to God the honourable Council saw the face of Essex as we do see; we have such obstinate heretics, Anabaptists, and other unruly persons here, as never was heard of. If we should give it off in the midst, we should set the country in such a roar, that my estimation and the residue of the commissioners shall ever be lost." Contemporary letters show that this applies with equal truth to the time of Elizabeth. The remorseless butcheries of Alva, in the Netherlands, had driven many Dutch Baptists to seek refuge in England; but " the realm," according to Dr. Parker, "was full of Anabaptists, Arians, Libertines, and freewillers," etc. Many Anglican divines of that age give similar testimony. Aylmer tells us of "Anabaptists, with infinite swarms of other Satanistes." Jewel speaks of "large and inauspicious crops of Arians and Anabaptists and other pests;" although he has rather a novel way of accounting for their increase; namely, this :-"the darkness and unhappy night of the Marian times!" Dr. Some admits that "There were several Anabaptistical conventicles in London and other places," and further affirms "that some persons of these sentiments were bred at our Universities." This was a year after the excitement in England about the Spanish invasion. Such facts as these warrant us in saying that Baptist sentiments were widely spread among all classes of the English people.

In spite, then, of this uniform hunting after Baptists during the Tudor century; in spite of defamation, of fine, of imprisonment, of

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martyrdom, the Baptists were never exterminated. They rather increased by the measures devised for their repression. Like the Israelites in Egypt, "the more they were afflicted, the more they multiplied and grew." They owed their vitality to the truth of the principles they held. Their "heresies" have since become the common property of Christian men. Humble, often unlettered, always despised, they did not live in vain. Their death was part of that great sum which has been paid for our English freedom.

"They lived unknown

Till persecution dragged them into fame,
And chased them up to heaven."

DOLLY.

A WESTERN DROVER'S STORY.

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сту, and said I: "If any "What is it, neighbours? man's child is hereabouts, Anthony Hunt cried. is not the man to let it die."

I searched again. At last I bethought me of a hollow under the hill and groped that way. Sure enough, I found a little dripping thing that moaned and sobbed as I took it in my arms. I called my horse, and the beast came to me, and I mounted, and tucked the little soaked thing under my coat as well as I could, promising to take it home to mammy. It seemed tired to death, and pretty soon cried itself to sleep against my bosom.

It had slept there over an hour when I saw my own windows. There were lights in them, and I supposed my wife had lit them for my sake; but when I got into the door-yard, I saw something was the matter, and stood still with dead fear of heart five minutes before I could lift the latch. At last I did it, and saw the room full of neighbours, and my wife amidst them, weeping.

When she saw me, she hid her face.

And one said, "Nothing now, I hope; what's that in your arms ?

"A poor lost child," said I. "I found it on the road. Take it, will you, I've turned faint," and I lifted the sleeping thing, and saw the face of my own child, my little Dolly.

It was my darling, and none other, that I had picked up upon the drenched road.

My little child had wandered out to meet "daddy" and doll, while her mother was at work, and whom they were lamenting as one dead. I thanked Heaven on my knees before them all. It is not much of a story, neighbours, but I think of it often in the nights, and wonder how I could bear to live now if I had not stopped when I heard the cry for help upon the road, the little baby cry, hardly louder than a squirrel's chirp.

That's Dolly yonder with her mother in the meadow, a girl worth saving-I think (but then, I'm her father and partial may be)--the prettiest and sweetest thing this side of the Mississippi.*

THIS is a day of tickets. We travel now by first taking a ticket, a thing unheard of until the age of railways set in. Admission to lectures, and even sermons, is now very often by tickets, which, when the lecturers or preachers are very popular, sell at a premium.

There are two places into which it is most essential that we should obtain admittance, and we cannot get into either without a ticket, which must be presented in order for our entrance. The two places referred to are, the only sure refuge; and our Father's house. To be found safe in Christ now, and to be found among the sanctified in heaven eternally, are the two great points. All persons who have any idea of God, of the value of the soul, or the solemnity of eternity, desire the last; but comparatively few are really concerned about the first. Most persons wish to go to heaven when they die; but few can say, "For me to live is Christ;" yea, many do not even really desire

* From an American periodical.

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to be "found in Him." A fearful disappointment awaits those who expect a heaven of glory, but who neglect salvation by grace. In order for admission into Christ, the true refuge, and so to be saved by grace, it is necessary to present a ticket at the gate of the pardoning office of Mercy. And no one will be admitted into glory without another ticket, which must be presented at the gate of heaven. But how very different, how completely opposite, are these "two tickets!" The one is as dirty and foul as it possibly can be'; and the other is beautifully clean, and more sparkling than the brightest gems. On the first ticket is written, "SIN;" and on the second, "HOLINESS."

The only title or qualification required of any one for admission into Christ, and into all the riches of grace, is, that the applicant really brings his sins to Jesus. "I am come (says the Saviour) to call sinners to repentance. The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost." "The whole need not a physician, but they that are sick."

"Sinners, Jesus will receive!

Speak this word of grace to all."

It may be that you, dear reader, feel a burden of guilt, a fear of coming judgment, and a dread of meeting God; and that you often think how blessed those are who are safe in Christ; to whom God hath forgiven all trespasses; and you wish that this were your case. But you add, I am not good enough to hope for all this. I have nothing to plead as a reason why I should be forgiven and blest. This is taking a wrong view of the case. Goodness is not required; the fear rather is that you are not bad enough; that is, not bad enough in your own estimation. Some one hath said, "That the world's chief need is a real sense of sin. It is not food that is wanting, it is hunger. It is not that there is no healing balm, but the disease is not realized and confessed before God." Men do not believe what God says about their vileness, and that they have come short of His glory; and so sin sits lightly on their consciences.

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But you say that you do feel your sinfulness, and that amidst all earth's enjoyments you are not happy. There is in your case, perhaps, another danger; it is so with many. They are not willing to give up their sins. In some form or other sin is still loved. The dirty ticket is held fast. Be you sure that if you will retain it, you must find ere long that it entitles you to a place in the world of woe for ever. vile sin ticket books you for perdition. If you hold it fast through life, you must give it in at death; you will not be able to throw it away then. Dear immortal soul, whatever be the sin you love, whether secret or open, whether sensuality, worldliness, or pride, think how it will look when the carriage of life stops, and the lamp of eternity throws its glare upon sin-your sin. You, perhaps, may have seen some traveller put to shame and heavily fined, who has only gone a few miles with a false ticket; but oh think what it will be for you to be discovered and put to confusion before God when life's journey is ended!

But it may be that some one may say, I do feel my guilt and vile