A67927:5252
Acts and monuments of matters most special and memorable, happening in the Church. [vol. 2, part 2] with an universal history of the same, wherein is set forth at large the whole race and course of the Church, from the primitive age to these latter times of ours, with the bloody times, horrible troubles, and great persecutions against the true martyrs of Christ, sought and wrought as well by heathen emperors, as now lately practised by Romish prelates, especially in this realm of England and Scotland. Newly revised and recognised, partly also augmented, and now the fourth time again published and recommended to the studious reader, by the author (through the help of Christ our Lord) John Fox, which desireth thee good reader to help him with thy prayer.Actes and monuments of matters most speciall and memorable, happenyng in the Church. [vol. 2, part 2] with an vniuersall history of the same, wherein is set forth at large the whole race and course of the Church, from the primitiue age to these latter tymes of ours, with the bloudy times, horrible troubles, and great persecutions agaynst the true martyrs of Christ, sought and wrought as well by heathen emperours, as nowe lately practised by Romish prelates, especially in this realme of England and Scotland. Newly reuised and recognised, partly also augmented, and now the fourth time agayne published and recommended to the studious reader, by the author (through the helpe of Christ our Lord) Iohn Foxe, which desireth thee good reader to helpe him with thy prayer.
London: printed by John Daye, 1583London: printed by Iohn Daye, 1583
No title page in the transcription: set from the catalogue record.
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
I Am in doubt whether I may entreat of the praise and commendation of so great a Clarke (for the celebrating whereof,1 this assembly and concourse of yours is made this day) or of the vices and calamities, out of the which we be newly delivered, or of them both, considering the one cannot be mentioned without the other. In the which times ye felt so much anguish and sorrow (my right dear brethren) that if I should repeat them and bring them to remembrance again, I fear me, I should not so much work a just hatred in us towards them, for the injuries received in them, as renew our old sorrow and heaviness. Again, men must needs account me unadvised and foolish in my doing, if I should think my self able to make him which hath lived before our eyes in praise and estimation, more famous and notable by my Oration, which he by his living and conversation hath oftentimes polished. But the wickedness of the times which endeavoured to wipe clean out of remembrance of men the name that was so famous and renowned in every mans mouth, did much profit him. In so much, that both in his life time all thing redounded to his continual renown, and in especially, after his decease nothing could be devised more honourable, then with so solemn furniture & ceremonies, to have gone about to have hurt the memorial of such a worthy man, & yet could not bring to pass the thing that was so sore coveted, but rather brought that thing to pass, which was chiefly sought to be avoided. For the desire that men have of the dead, hath purchased to many men everlasting fame, and hath not taken away immortality, but rather amplified and increased the same. By means whereof it cometh to pass, that he that will entreat of those things that pertain to the praise of Bucer after his death, can not choose but speak of the crabbedness of the times past, upon the which riseth a great increase and augmentation of his praise. But his life so excellently set forth, not only by the writings of the learned Clerks, Cheek and Car, and by the lively voice of the right famous D. Haddon, uttered in this place to the great admiration of all the hearers, when his body should be laid into his grave to be buried, and after his burial by the godly and most holy preachings of the right Reverend father in Christ the Archbishop of Canterbury that now is, and of D.
I Am in doubt whether I may entreate of the prayse and commendation of so great a Clarke (for the celebratyng whereof,1 this assembly and concourse of yours is made this day) or of the vices and calamities, out of the whiche we bee newly deliuered, or of them both, consideryng the one cannot be mentioned without the other. In the which tymes ye felt so much anguish and sorrow (my right dere brethren) that if I should repeat them and bryng them to remembraunce agayne, I feare me, I should not so much worke a iust hatred in vs towardes them, for the iniuries receyued in them, as renew our olde sorrow and heuines. Agayne, men must needes account me vnaduised and foolish in my doyng, if I should thinke my selfe able to make him which hath lyued before our eyes in prayse and estimation, more famous and notable by my Oration, which he by his liuyng and conuersation hath oftentymes polished. But the wickednes of the tymes which endeuoured to wipe cleane out of remembrance of men the name that was so famous and renoumed in euery mans mouth, did much profite hym. In so much, that both in his life tyme all thyng redounded to hys continuall renowme, and in especially, after hys decease nothing could be deuised more honourable, then wt so solemn furniture & ceremonies, to haue gone about to haue hurt ye memorial of such a worthy man, & yet could not bryng to passe the thyng that was so sore coueted, but rather broght that thing to passe, which was chiefly sought to be auoyded. For the desire that men haue of the dead, hath purchased to many men euerlasting fame, and hath not taken away immortalitie, but rather amplified and increased the same. By meanes whereof it commeth to passe, that he yt wil intreat of those things that pertaine to the prayse of Bucer after hys death, can not chuse but speake of the crabbednesse of the tymes past, vpō the which riseth a great encrease and augmentation of his prayse. But his lyfe so excellently set foorth, not onelye by the writyngs of the learned Clarkes, Cheeke and Carre, and by the liuely voyce of the right famous D. Haddon, vttered in this place to the great admiration of all the hearers, when his body should be layd into his graue to bee buried, and after his buriall by the godly and most holye preachings of the right Reuerend father in Christ ye Archbishop of Caunterbury that now is, and of D.
Redman, the which for the worthiness and excellency of them, ought to stick longer in our minds unwritten, then many things that are penned and put in print, but also by the great assembly of all the degrees of the University the same day, in bringing him to his grave, and the next day after by the industry of every man that was endued with any knowledge in the Greek or Latin tongs: of the which, there was no man but set up some Verses as witnesses of his just and unfeigned sorrow, upon the walls of the Church: that neither at that time any reverence or duty which is due to the dead departing out of this life, was then overslipped, or now remaineth undone that may seem to pertain either to the celebrating of the memorial of so holy or famous a person, or to the consecrating of him to everlasting memory. We at that time saw with our eyes this University flourishing by his institutions, the love of sincere religion, not only engendered, but also confirmed and strengthened through his continual and daily preaching. In so much that at such time as he was suddenly taken from us, there was scarce any man that for sorrow could find in his hart to bear with the present state of this life, but that either he wished with all his hart to depart out of this life with Bucer into another, & by dying to follow him into immortality, or else endeavoured himself with weeping and sighing to call him again, being dispatched of all troubles into the prison of this body, out of the which he is escaped, lest he should leave us as it were standing in battle ray without a Captain, and he himself as one cashed, depart with his wages, or as one discharged out of the Camp, withdraw himself to the everlasting quietness and tranquillity of the soul. Therefore all men evidently declared at that time, both how sore they took his death to hart, and also, how hardly they could away with the misture of such a man. As long as the ardent love of his religion (wherewith we were inflamed) flourished, it wrought in our hearts an incredible desire of his presence among us.
Redman, the which for the worthinesse and excellencie of thē, ought to stick longer in our mynds vnwrittē, then many things that are penned and put in print, but also by the great assembly of all the degrees of the Uniuersitie the same daye, in bringyng hym to his graue, and the nexte day after by the industry of euery man that was endued wt any knowledge in the Greeke or Latine tongs: of the which, there was no man but set vp some Uerses as witnesses of hys iust and vnfeined sorrow, vpon the wals of the Churche: that neither at that tyme any reuerence or duety which is due to the dead departyng out of this lyfe, was then ouerslipped, or now remayneth vndone that may seeme to pertaine either to the celebratyng of the memoriall of so holy or famous a person, or to the consecrating of hym to euerlastyng memory. We at that tyme saw with our eyes this Uniuersitie flourishyng by his institutions, the loue of sincere religion, not onely engendred, but also confirmed and strenghthened through his continuall and daily preachyng. In so much that at such tyme as hee was sodainly taken from vs, there was scarse any man that for sorrow could find in his hart to beare with the present state of this life, but yt either he wished with al his hart to depart out of this lyfe wt Bucer into another, & by dieng to follow hym into immortality, or els endeuoured hymselfe with weepyng and sighyng to call hym agayne, beyng dispatched of all troubles into the prison of this body, out of ye whiche he is escaped, lest he shuld leaue vs as it were standyng in battaile ray without a Captayne, and he hymselfe as one casshed, depart with hys wages, or as one discharged out of the Campe, withdraw hymselfe to the euerlasting quietnesse and tranquillitie of the soule. Therefore all men euidently declared at that tyme, both how sore they tooke hys death to hart, and also, how hardly they could away with the misture of such a man. As long as the ardēt loue of his religion (wherewyth we were inflamed) florished, it wrought in our hartes an incredible desire of hys presence among vs.
But after the time that the godly man ceased to be any more in our sight, and in our eyes, that ardent and burning love of religion by little and little waxed cold in our minds, and according to the times that came after (which were both miserable and to our utter undoing) ⟨p. 1965⟩it began not by little and little to be darkened,1 but it altogether vanished away, and turned into nothing. For we tell again into the troublesomeness of the popish doctrine: the old rites & customs of the Romish church, were restored again, not to the garnishment & beautifying of the christian Religion (as they surmised) but to the utter defacing, violating, & defiling of the same. Death was set before the eyes of such as persevered in the christen doctrine that they had learned before. They were banished the realm that could not apply themselves to the time, & do as other men did: such as remained, were enforced either to dissemble, or to hide themselves and creep into corners, or else as it were by drinking of the charmed cup of Circes, to be turned and altered, not only from the nature of man into the nature of brute beasts, but (that far worse and much more monstrous is) from the likeness of God & his Angels, into the likeness of devils. And all England was infected with this malady. But I would to God the corruption of those times which overwhelmed all the whole realm, had not at least wise yet pierced every part & member thereof. Of the which there was not one but that (besides the grief that it felt, with the residue of the body, by reason of the sickness & contagion spread into the whole) had some sorrow & calamity peculiarly by it self. And to omit the rest (of the which to entreat, this place is not appointed, nor the time requireth ought to be spoken) this dwelling place of the Muses (which we call the University) may be a sufficient witness what we may judge of all the rest of the body. For certes my brethren, the thing is not to be dissembled, that cannot be hidden. We applying our selves to those most filthy times, have most shamefully yielded like faint hearted Cowards, which had not the stomachs to sustain the adversities of poverty, banishment, and death. Which in our living and conversation kept neither the constancy taught us by philosophy, nor yet the patience taught us by holy scripture, which have done all things at the commandment of others.
But after the tyme that the godly man ceased to be any more in our sight, and in our eies, that ardent and burnyng loue of religion by little and little waxed cold in our myndes, and according to the times yt came after (which were both miserable and to our vtter vndoyng)
And therefore that which the Poet (although in another sense) hath trimly spoken, may well be thought to have been truly prophesied upon us.
And therefore that which the Poete (although in another sence) hath trimly spoken, may well be thought to haue bene truly prophesied vpon vs.
The times and seasons changed be: And changed in the same are we.
The tymes and seasons changed be: And changed in the same are we.
Divers of them that were of a pure and sincere judgement as concerning religion, being driven from hence & distroubled, the rest that remained tasted and felt of the inhumanity of them in whose hands the authority of doing things here consisted: although to say the truth. I have used a gentler term then behooved. For it is not to be accounted inhumanity, but rather immanity & beastly cruelty, the which, when they had spent all kinds of torments and punishments upon the quick, when they had cruelly taken from such as constantly persevered, life, from others riches, honours, and all hope of promotion, yet they could not be so satisfied, but that incensed and stirred with a greater fury, it began to outrage even against the dead. Therefore where as in every singular place was executed a singular kind of cruelty, in so much, that there was no kind of cruelness that could be devised, but it was put in ure in one place or other, this was proper or peculiar to Cambridge, to exercise the cruelty upon the dead, which in other places was extended but to the quick. Oxford burnt up the right reverend fathers, Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer, the noble witnesses of the clear light of the Gospel. Moreover, at London perished these two lanterns of light, Rogers and Bradford: In whom it is hard to say whether there were more force of eloquence and utterance in preaching, or more holiness of life and conversation. Many other without number both here and in other places were consumed to ashes for bearing record of the truth. For what City is there that hath not flamed, I say not with burning of houses and buildings, but with burning of holy bodies? But Cambridge, after there were no more left alive upon whom they might spue out their bitter poison, played the mad Bedlam against the dead. The dead men, whose living no man was able to find fault with, whose doctrine no man was able to reprove, were by false and slanderous accusers indited, contrary to the laws of God and man sued in the law, condemned, their sepulchres violated and broken up, their carcasses pulled out and burnt with fire. A thing surely incredible if we had not seen it with our eyes, and a thing that hath not lightly been heard of. But the heinousness of this wicked act, was spread abroad as a common talk in every mans mouth, and was blown and dispersed through all Christendom.
Diuers of them that were of a pure and sincere iudgement as conceruyng religion, beyng driuen from hence & distroubled, the rest that remained tasted and felt of the inhumanity of them in whose hands the authoritie of doing things here consisted: although to say the truth. I haue vsed a gentler terme then behooued. For it is not to bee accompted inhumanitie, but rather immanitie & beastly cruelty, the which, when they had spent all kynds of tormēts and punishments vpon the quicke, when they had cruelly taken from such as constantly perseuered, life, from others riches, honors, and all hope of promotion, yet they coulde not be so satisfied, but that incensed and stirred with a greter fury, it began to outrage euen agaynst the dead. Therfore where as in euery singuler place was executed a singular kynd of cruelty, in so much, that there was no kynd of cruelnes that could be deuised, but it was put in vre in one place or other, this was proper or peculiar to Cambridge, to exercise the cruelty vppon the dead, which in other places was extended but to the quicke. Oxford burnt vp the right reuerend fathers, Cranmer, Ridley, and Latymer, the noble witnesses of the cleare light of the Gospell. Moreouer, at London perished these two lanternes of light, Rogers and Bradford: In whome it is hard to say whether there were more force of eloquence and vtterance in preaching, or more holynes of lyfe and conuersation. Many other without number both here and in other places were consumed to ashes for bearyng record of the truth. For what City is there that hath not flamed, I saye not with burning of houses and buildings, but with burnyng of holy bodies? But Cambridge, after there were no more left alyue vpon whom they might spue out their bitter poyson, played the mad Bedlem against the dead. The dead men, whose liuyng no man was able to finde faulte with, whose doctrine no man was able to reprooue, were by false and slanderous accusers indited, contrary to the lawes of God and man sued in the law, condemned, their sepulchres violated and broken vp, their carcasses pulled out and burnt with fire. A thyng surely incredible if wee had not seene it with our eyes, and a thing that hath not lightly bene heard of. But the haynousnes of this wicked act, was spred abroad as a common talke in euery mans mouth, and was blowen and dispersed through all Christendome.
Bucer by the excellency of his wit and doctrine known to all men, of our countrymen in manner craved, of many others entreated & sent for, to the intent he might instruct our Cambridge men in the sincere doctrine of the christen religion, being spent with age, and his strength utterly decayed, forsook his own country, refused not the tediousness of the long journey, was not afraid to adventure himself upon the sea, but had more regard of the dilating and amplifying of the Church of Christ, than of all other things. So in conclusion he came, every man received and welcomed him: afterward he lived in such wise, as it might appear he came not hither for his own sake, but for ours. For he sought not to drive away the sickness that he had taken by the troublesome travail of his long journey: and albeit his strength were weakened & appalled, yet he regarded not the recovery of his health, but put himself to immoderate labour and intolerable pain, only to teach and instruct us. And yet toward this so noble and worthy a person while he lived, were showed all the tokens of humanity and gentleness, reverence and courtesy that could be, and when he was dead, the most horrible cruelty and spite that might be imagined. For what can be so commendable, as to grant unto the living house, and a biding place, and to the dead burial? Or what is he that will find in his heart to give entertainment, & to cherish that person in his house with all kind of gentleness that he can devise, upon whom he could not vouchsafe to bestow burial when he is dead? Again, what an inconstancy is it, with great solemnity, and with much advancement and commendation of his virtues, to bury a man honourably, and anon after to break up his tomb, and pull him out spitefully, and wrongfully to slander him being dead, who during his life time alway deserved praise? All these things have happened unto Bucer, who whilst he lived, had free access into the most gorgeous buildings and stately palaces of the greatest Princes, & when he was dead, could not be suffered to enjoy so much as his poor grave. Who being laid in the ground, nobly to his eternal fame, was afterward to his utter defacing spitefully taken up and burned.
Bucer by the excellency of hys wit and doctrine knowen to all men, of our countreymen in maner craued, of many others intreated & sent for, to the intent he might instruct our Cambridge men in the sincere doctrine of the christen religion, beyng spent with age, and hys strength vtterly decayed, forsooke his owne countrey, refused not the tediousnesse of the long iourney, was not afrayd to aduenture hymselfe vpon the sea, but had more regard of the dilatyng and amplifieng of the Church of Christ, than of all other thyngs. So in conclusion he came, euery man receyued and welcommed hym: afterward he liued in such wyse, as it might appeare he came not hither for his owne sake, but for ours. For he sought not to driue away ye sicknesse that he had taken by the troublesome trauaile of his long iourney: and albeit his strength were weakened & appalled, yet he regarded not the recouery of hys health, but put hymselfe to immoderate labour and intollerable payne, onely to teach and instruct vs. And yet toward this so noble and worthy a person while he lyued, were shewed all the tokens of humanitie and gentlenesse, reuerence and curtesy that could be, and when he was dead, the most horrible crueltie and spight that might be imagined. For what can be so commendable, as to grant vnto the liuyng house, and a bidyng place, and to the dead burial? Or what is he that will find in his heart to geue entertainement, & to cherish that person in his house with all kynde of gentlenes that he can deuise, vpon whom he could not vouchsafe to bestow buriall when he is dead? Agayne, what an inconstancy is it, with great solemnity, and with much aduauncement and commendation of his vertues, to bury a man honourably, and anone after to breake vp his tomb, and pull him out spitefully, and wrongfully to slander him beyng deade, who duryng his lyfe tyme alway deserued prayse? All these things haue happened vnto Bucer, who whilest hee lyued, had free accesse into the most gorgeous buildyngs and stately pallaces of the greatest Princes, & when he was dead, could not be suffred to enioy so muche as his poore graue. Who beyng layd in the ground, nobly to his eternall fame, was afterward to hys vtter defacing spightfully taken vp and burned.
The which things albeit they did no harm to the dead (for the dead carcasses feel no pain, neither doth the fame of godly persons depend upon the report of vulgar people, and the light rumours of men, but upon the rightful censure & just judgement of God) yet it reproveth an extreme cruelness and unsatiable desire of revengement, in them which offer such utter wrong to the dead. These persons therefore whom they have pulled out of their graves and burned, I believe (if they had been alive) they would have cast out of house and home, they would have driven out of all mens company, and in the end with most cruel torments have torn them in pieces, being nevertheless Aliens, being Strangers, and being also fetched hither by us out of such a country, where they not only needed not to fear any punishment, but contrary wise were always had in much reputation, as well among the noble and honourable, as also among the vulgar and common people. But yet how much more gentle then these men, was Bishop Gardiner, otherwise an earnest defender of the Popish doctrine. Who against his own countrymen, let pass no cruelty whereby he might extinguish with f•re & sword the light of the Gospel: and yet he spared Foreigners, because the right of them is so holy, that there was never nation so barbarous, that would violate the same. For when he had in his power the renowned Clerk Peter Martyr then teaching at Oxford, he would not keep him to punish him, but (as I have heard reported) when he should go his way, he gave him wherewith to bear his charges. So that the thing which he thought he might of right do to his own countrymen, he judged unlawful to do to strangers. And whom the law of God could not withhold from the wicked murdering of his own countrymen, him did the law of man bridle from killing of strangers, the which hath ever appeased all barbarous beastliness, and mitigated all cruelty. For it is a point of humanity for man and man to meet together, and one to come to an other, though they be never so far separated & set asunder, both by sea & by land, without the which access, there can be no intercourse of merchandise, there can be no conference of wits, which first of all engendered learning nor any commodity of society long to continue.
The which thynges albeit they did no harme to the dead (for the deade carcasses feele no payne, neyther doth the fame of godly persons depend vpon the report of vulgar people, and the lyght rumours of men, but vpon the rightfull censure & iust iudgement of God) yet it reprooueth an extreme cruelnesse and vnsatiable desire of reuengemēt, in them which offer such vtter wrong to the dead. These persons therefore whome they haue pulled out of their graues and burned, I beleue (if they had bene alyue) they would haue cast out of house and home, they would haue driuen out of all mens company, and in the ende with most cruell tormentes haue torne them in peeces, beyng neuerthelesse Alientes, beyng Straungers, and beyng also fetched hether by vs oute of such a countrey, where they not onely needed not to feare any punishment, but contrary wise were alwayes had in much reputation, as well among the noble and honourable, as also among the vulgare and common people. But yet how much more gentle then these men, was Byshop Gardiner, otherwyse an earnest defender of the Popishe doctrine. Who agaynst his owne countreymen, let passe no crueltie wherby he might extinguish with fre & sword the light of the Gospell: and yet he spared Forreiners, because the right of them is so holye, that there was neuer nation so barbarous, that would violate the same. For when he had in his power the renowmed Clearke Peter Martyr then teachyng at Oxford, he would not kepe hym to punish hym, but (as I haue heard reported) when hee should go his way, he gaue hym wherewith to beare hys charges. So that the thyng which he thought he might of right do to his owne countreymen, he iudged vnlawfull to do to strangers. And whom the law of God coulde not withhold from the wicked murthering of his owne countreymen, hym did the lawe of man bridle from killyng of straungers, the whiche hath euer appeased all barbarous beastlynesse, and mitigated all cruelty. For it is a poynt of humanitie for man and man to meete together, and one to come to an other, though they be neuer so far separated & set asunder, both by sea & by land, without the which accesse, there can be no entercourse of merchādise, there cā be no conference of wits, which first of al engendred lerning nor any commoditie of societie long to continue.
To repulse them that come to us, and to prohibit them our countries, is a point of inhumanity. Now to entreat them evil that by our sufferance dwell among us, and have increase of household and household stuff, it is a point of wickedness. Wherefore this cruelty hath far surmounted the cruelty of all others, the which to satisfy the unsatiable greediness thereof, drew to execution, not only strangers, brought hither at our entreataunce and sending for, but even the withered and rotten carcasses digged out of their graves: to the intent that the immeasurable ⟨p. 1966⟩thirst which could not be quenched with shedding the blood of them that were alive,1 might at the least be satisfied in burning of dead mens bones. These (my brethren) these I say, are the just causes which have so sore provoked the wrath of God against us, because that in doing extreme injury to the dead, we have been prone and ready: but in putting the same away, we have been slow and slack. For verily I believe (if I may have liberty to say freely what I think) ye shall bear with me (if I chance to cast forth any thing unadvisedly in the heat and hasty discourse of my Oration) that even this place, in the which we have so often times assembled, being defiled with that new kind of wickedness, such as man never heard of before, is a let and hindrance unto us, when we call for the help of God, by means whereof, our prayers are not accepted, which we make to appease the Godhead, & to win him to be savourable unto us again.
To repulse them that come to vs, and to prohibite thē our countries, is a poynt of inhumanitie. Now to entreat them euill that by our sufferaunce dwel among vs, and haue encrease of household and household stuffe, it is a poynte of wickednesse. Wherefore this crueltie hath farre surmounted the cruelty of all others, the which to satisfie the vnsatiable greedinesse thereof, drewe to execution, not onelye straungers, brought hether at our entreataunce and sending for, but euen the withered and rotten carcasses digged out of their graues: to the intent that the immeasurable ⟨p. 1966⟩thurst which coulde not be quenched with shedding the bloud of them that were aliue,1
The blood of Abel shed by Cain, calleth and crieth from the earth that sucked it up: likewise, the undeserved burning of these bodies, calleth upon God almighty to punish us, and crieth, that not only the Authors of so great a wickedness, but also the Ministers thereof are unpure, the places defiled, in which these things were perpetrated, the air infected which we take into our bodies, to the intent that by sundry diseases and sicknesses we may receive punishment for so execrable wickedness. Look well about ye (my dear brethren) and consider with your selves the evils that are past: & ye shall see how they took their beginning at Bucers death, following one in another's neck even unto this day. First and foremost when we were even in the chiefest of our mourning and scarcely yet recomforted of our sorrow for his death, the sweating sickness lighted upon us, the which passed swiftly through all England, and as it were in haste dispatched an innumerable company of men: Secondly, the untimely death of our most noble king Edward the sixth (whose life in virtue surmounted the opinion of all men, and seemed worthy of immortality) happened contrary to mens expectation in that age, in which unless violence be used, few do dye. The conversion of Religion, or rather the eversion and turning thereof into papistry. The incursion and domination of strangers, under whose yoke our necks were almost subdued. The importunate cruelty of the Bishops against the Christians, which executed that wickedness, for making satisfaction whereof, we are gathered together this day. These are the things that ensued after his death: but after his burning ensued yet greevouser things. Namely new kind of plagues, and contagious diseases, unknown to the very Physicians, whereby either every mans health was appayred, or else they were brought to their graves, or else very hardly recovered: bloody battles without victory, whereof the profit redounded to the enemy, and to us the slaughter with great loss. The which things do evidently declare, that God is turned from us, and angry with us, and that he giveth no ear to our prayers, and that he is not moved with our cries and sighs, but that he looketh, that this our meeting and assembly should be to this end, that for as much as we have violated their corpses, we should do them right again:
The bloud of Abell shed by Cain, calleth and crieth frō the earth that sucked it vp: likewise, the vndeserued burning of these bodyes, calleth vpon God almighty to punish vs, and cryeth, that not onely the Authours of so greate a wickednesse, but also the Ministers thereof are vnpure, the places defiled, in which these thinges were perpetrated, the ayre infected which we take into our bodyes, to the intent that by sundry diseases and sickenesses we may receiue punishment for so execrable wickednesse. Looke well about ye (my deare brethrē) and consider with your selues the euils that are past: & ye shall see how they tooke theyr beginning at Bucers death, following one in anothers necke euen vnto this day. First and formost whē we were euen in the chiefest of our mourning and scarcely yet recomforted of our sorrow for his death, the sweating sickenesse lighted vpon vs, the whiche passed swiftly thorow all Englande, and as it were in haste dispatched an innumerable company of men: Secondly, the vntimely death of our most noble king Edward the sixt (whose life in vertue surmounted the opinion of all men, and seemed worthy of immortality) happened contrary to mens expectation in that age, in which vnlesse violence be vsed, fewe do dye. The conuersion of Religion, or rather the euersion and turning therof into papistry. The incursiō and domination of straungers, vnder whose yoke our neckes were almost subdued. The importunate cruelty of the Byshops agaynst the Christians, which executed that wickednesse, for making satisfaction whereof, we are gathered together this daye. These are the thinges that ensued after his death: but after his burning ensued yet greeuouser thinges. Namely newe kinde of plagues, and contagious diseases, vnknowne to the very Phisitians, whereby eyther euerye mans health was appayred, or els they were brought to theyr graues, or elles very hardly recouered: bloudy batteles without victory, whereof the profite redounded to the enemy, and to vs the slaughter with great losse. The which thinges doe euidently declare, that God is turned from vs, and angry with vs, and that he geueth no eare to our prayers, and that he is not moued with our cries and sighes, but that he looketh, that this our meeting and assembly shoulde be to this end, that for as muche as we haue violated theyr coarses, we should doe them right agayne:
so that the memorial of these most holy men, may be commended to posterity unhurted and undefamed. Wherefore amend yet at length (my brethren) which hitherto by reason of the variableness and unconstancy of the times, have been wavering and unsteadfast in your hearts: show your selves cheerful and forward in making satisfaction for the injury you have done to the dead, whom with so great wickedness of late ye endamaged and defiled: not by censing them with the perfumes of those odours and spices now worn out of ure, and put to flight, but with a true and unfeigned repentance of the hart, and with prayer: to the intent that the heavenly Godhead, provoked by our doings to be our enemy may be our hum ble submission be entreated to be favourable and agreeable to all our other requests.
so that the memoriall of these most holy men, may be commended to posteritye vnhurted and vndefamed. Wherefore amende yet at length (my brethren) which hytherto by reason of the variablenesse and vnconstancy of the times, haue beene wauering and vnstedfast in your hartes: shew your selues chearefull and forwarde in making satisfaction for the iniury you haue done to the dead, whome with so greate wickednesse of late ye endomaged and defiled: not by censing them with the perfumes of those odours and spices now worne out of vre, and put to flight, but with a true and vnfained repētance of the hart, and with prayer: to the intent that the heauenly Godhead, prouoked by our doinges to be our enemy may be our hū ble submission be entreated to be fauorable and agreable to all our other requestes.
When Acworth had made an end of his Oration, M. James Pilkinton the Queens reader of the divinity lecture,1 going up into the Pulpit, made a Sermon upon the 111. Psalm, the beginning whereof is. Blessed is the man that feareth the Lord.
When Acworth had made an ende of his Oration, M. Iames Pilkinton the Queenes reader of the diuinity lecture,1 going vp into the Pulpite, made a Sermon vpon the 111. Psalme, the beginning whereof is. Blessed is the mā that feareth the Lord.
Where intending to prove that the remembrance of the just man shall not perish, and that Bucer is blessed, & that the ungodly shall fret at the sight thereof, but yet that all their attempts shall be to no purpose, to the intent this saying may be verified: I will curse your blessings, and bless your cursings, he took his beginning of his own person, that albeit he were both ready and willing to take that matter in hand, partly for the worthiness of the matter it self, and especially for certain singular virtues, of those persons, for whom that Congregation was called, yet notwithstanding he said he was nothing meet to take that charge upon him.
Where intending to prooue that the remembraunce of the iust man shall not perishe, and that Bucer is blessed, & that the vngodly shall fret at the sight therof, but yet that all theyr attemptes shall bee to no purpose, to the entent this saying may be verifyed: I will cursse your blessinges, and blesse your curssinges, he tooke his beginning of hys owne person, that albeit he were both ready and willyng to take that matter in hande, partly for the worthinesse of the matter it selfe, and inespecially for certayne singuler vertues, of those persons, for whome that Congregation was called, yet notwithstanding he sayde he was nothing meet to take that charge vpon him.
