"My brother," said John, "where Christ's word comes his cross must follow."

After the sentence had been read to them, the three Christian sufferers were led back to prison; John Wirth walking first, the two bailiffs next, and a vicar behind. them As they crossed the castle bridge, on which there was a chapel dedicated to St. Joseph, the vicar called out to the two old men,-"Fall on your knees, and invoke the saints."

At these words, John Wirth, turning round, said, "Father, be firm. You know there is but one Mediator between God and man- Christ Jesus."

Assuredly, my son," replied the old man; “and by the help of His grace I will continue faithful to him, even to the end."

On this, they all three began to repeat the Lord's prayer, "Our Father who art in heaven." . . . And so they crossed the bridge.

They were next conducted to the scaffold. John Wirth, whose heart was filled with the tenderest solicitude for his father, bade him a solemn farewell.

"My beloved father," said he, "henceforth thou art my father no longer, and I am no longer thy son; but we are brothers still in Christ our Lord, for whose name's sake we are doomed to suffer death. So now, if such be God's will, my beloved brother, let us depart to be with him who is the father of us all. Fear nothing!"

66

Amen!" answered the old man, and may God Almighty bless thee, my beloved son, and brother in Christ."

Thus, on the threshold of eternity, did father and son take their leave of each other, with joyful anticipations of that unseen state in which they should be united anew by imperishable ties. There were but few among the inultitude around whose tears did not flow profusely.

The bailiff Rutiman prayed in silence. All three then knelt down "in Christ's name,”—and their heads were severed from their bodies.

18. JOHN LECLERC.

On the 12th of April, 1523, an ordinance of the bishop deprived the evangelical ministers of Meaux of their licenses to preach, and compelled them to seek safety abroad. Those who had received the truth then sought to edify one another. Prominent among them for piety, intelligence, boldness, and zeal, was Leclerc, a poor wool-comber. He was one of those men whom the Spirit of God inspires with courage, and places foremost in the rank of a religious movement. He began to visit from house to house, strengthening and confirming the disciples in their faith. Having rashly posted a placard against antichrist at the door of the cathedral, the priests were excited to the highest degree of indignation. "What!" exclaimed they, "shall a base wool-comber be allowed to assail the pope?" The Franciscans were furious. They insisted that at least on this occasion a terrible example should be made. Leclerc was first thrown into prison, then condemned to be publicly whipped through the city three successive days, and on the third day to be branded on the forehead.

The mournful spectacle began. Leclerc was led through the streets, his hands bound, his back bare, and receiving from the executioners the blows he had drawn upon himself by his opposition to the bishop of Rome. A great crowd followed the martyr's progress, which was marked by his blood: some pursued the heretic with yells; others, by their silence, gave no doubtful signs of sympathy with him; and me woman

encouraged the martyr by her looks and words-she was his mother.

At length, on the third day, when the bloody procession was over, Leclerc was made to stop at the usual place of execution. The executioner prepared the fire, heated the iron which was to sear the flesh of the minis-ter of the Gospel, and, approaching him, branded him as a heretic on his forehead. Just then a shriek was uttered-but it came not from the martyr. His mother, a witness of the dreadful sight, wrung with anguish, endured a violent struggle between the enthusiasm of faith and maternal feelings; but her faith overcame, · and she exclaimed, in a voice that made the adversaries tremble, "Glory be to Jesus Christ and his witnesses." Thus did this Frenchwoman of the sixteenth century have respect to that word of the Son of God,

Whosoever loveth his son more than me is not worthy of me." So daring a courage at such a moment might have seemed to demand instant punishment; but that Christian mother had struck powerless the hearts of priests and soldiers. Their fury was restrained by a mightier arm than theirs. The crowd falling back and making way for her, allowed the mother to regain, with faltering step, her humble dwelling. Monks, and even the town-serjeants themselves, gazed on her without moving; "not one of her enemies," says Theodore Beza, "dared put forth his hand against her." After this punishment, Leclerc, being set at liberty, withdrew, first to Rosay en Bric, a town six leagues from Meaux, and subsequently to Metz, in Lorraine. "And there," says Theodore Beza, "he acted on the example of St. Paul, who, while labouring at Corinth as a tent-maker, persuaded both the Jews and the Greeks." Having his spirit stirred within him at the idolatry of the people, he broke down the images in one of their chapels, and scattered the fragments before the altar. This passage

had been impressed upon his mind as though uttered by the voice of God to him, "Thou shalt not bow down to their gods; but thou shalt utterly overthrow them, and quite break down their images." Exod. xxiii, 24. And he did not doubt but that he was moved by the special inspiration of the Spirit of God to perform this apparently rash act. The excitement was intense. "Death-death to the sacrilegious wretch," resounded on all sides. Leclerc was seized; but instead of attempting to defend himself, he exhorted the people to worship God alone. This appeal only inflamed the fury of the multitude to a still higher pitch, and they would willingly have dragged him to instant execution. When placed before his judges, nothing daunted, he courageously declared that Jesus Christ--God manifest in the flesh-ought to be the sole object of worship. He was sentenced to be burnt to death, and conducted to the place of execution. .

Here an awful scene awaited him: his persecutors had been devising all that could render his sufferings more dreadful. At the scaffold, they were engaged heating pincers, as instruments of their cruelty. Leclerc heard with calm composure the savage yells of monks and people. They began by cutting off his right hand; then taking up the red-hot pincers, they tore away his nose; after this, with the same instrument, they lacerated his arms; and having thus mangled him in many places, they ended by applying the burnings to his breasts. All the while that the cruelty of his enemies was venting itself on his body, his soul was kept in perfect peace. He ejaculated solemnly,--"Their idols are silver and gold, the work of men's hands. They have mouths, but they speak not; eyes have they, but they see not; they have ears, but they hear not; noses have they, but they smell not; they have hands, but they handle not; feet have they, but

they walk not; neither speak they through their throat. They that make them are like unto them; so is every one that trusteth in them. O Israel, trust thou in the Lord; he is their help and their shield." The enemies were awed by the sight of so much composure; believers were confirmed in their faith; and the people, whose indignation had vented itself in the first burst of anger, were astonished and affected. After undergoing these tortures, Leclerc was burned by a slow fire in conformity to the sentence. Such was the death of the first martyr of the Gospel in France.

19. SCHUCH.

TOWARDS the end of the year 1524, information was conveyed to "Anthony the Good" that a pastor, named Schuch, was preaching the evangelical doctrine in St. Hippolyte. "Let them return to their duty," was his stern reply, "or I will march against the town, and lay it waste with fire and sword." The faithful pastor resolved to sacrifice himself for his flock, and forthwith repaired to the city of Nancy, where the duke resided. Immediately on his arrival, he was lodged in a noisome prison, under the custody of brutal and cruel men. Bonaventure, the infamous confessor of the duke, now had the heretic in his power. He presided at the tribunal before which Schuch was examined. Addressing the prisoner, he cried out, "Heretic! Judas!! Devil!!!"

Schuch, preserving the utmost tranquillity and composure, made no reply to these insults; but holding in his hand a little Bible, all covered with notes which he had written in it, he meekly and earnestly confessed Jesus Christ and him crucified. On a sudden, he assumed a more animated mien,-stood up boldly, raised his voice as if moved by the Spirit from on high,--and,