him not to trouble the town any more, for he was determined not to suffer it.

This sudden rebuff greatly surprised Wishart, who, after a short pause, looking sorrowfully on the speaker and the audience, said, "God is my witness, that I never minded your trouble, but your comfort; yea, your trouble is more grievous to me, than it is to yourselves; but I am assured, to refuse God's word, and to chase from you his messenger, shall not preserve you from trouble, but rather bring you into it; for God shall send you ministers that shall neither fear burning nor banishment. I have offered you the word of salvation. With the hazard of my life I have remained among you; now you, yourselves, refuse me; and I must leave my innocence to be declared by my God. If it be long prosperous with you, I am not led by the spirit of truth; but if unlooked for trouble come upon you, acknowledge the cause, and turn to God, who is gracious and merciful." At the close of this speech, he left the pulpit, and retired.

After this he went into the west of Scotland, where he preached God's word, which was gladly received by many. Here he received intelligence that the plague was broke out in Dundee. It began four days after he was prohibited from preaching there, and raged with such power that the number which died in the space of twenty-four hours, was almost beyond credit.

Notwithstanding the importunity of his friends, he determined to go there, saying, "They now need comfort. Perhaps this hand of God will make them now to magnify and reverence the word of God, which before they lightly esteemed."

He went, and met with a cordial reception from the godly. He chose the east gate for the place of his preaching; so that the healthy were within, and the sick without the gate. He took his first text from the words, "He sent his word and healed them."

In his sermon he chiefly dwelt upon the advantages and comfort of God's word, that judgments that follow the contempt or rejection of it, the freedom of God's grace to all his

people, and the happiness of his chosen, whom he takes to himself from out the miserable world.

The hearts of his hearers were so raised by the Divine force of his discourse, as not to regard death, but to count them. the more happy who should then be called, not knowing whether they might have such a comforter again with them.

After this, the plague abated, though in the midst of it, Wishart constantly visited those that lay in the greatest ex-· tremity, and comforted them by his counsel. When he took his leave of the people of Dundee, he said, "That God had almost put an end to that plague, and that he was called to another place."

He went from thence to Montrose, where he sometimes. preached, but spent most of his time in heavenly contemplation and prayer.

It is said that before he left the former place, while he was engaged in labors of love to the bodies, as well as to the souls, of the poor, afflicted people, the cardinal engaged a desperate popish priest to kill him, which attempt was made in the following manner.

One day, after he had finished his sermon, and the people had departed, the priest stood waiting at the bottom of the stairs, with a dagger in his hand, concealed under his robe. The minister having a sharp, piercing eye, and seeing the priest as he came from the pulpit, said to him, "My friend, what would you have?" and immediately putting his hand upon the dagger took it from him. The priest was so terrified that he fell upon his knees, confessed his intention, and sought pardon.

This created so much disturbance that those outside burst open the gate by force, and seeing the cause, were about to take the priest by force, when Wishart showed his forgiving spirit, by taking him in his arms, saying, "Whatsoever hurts him, shall hurt me; for he hath done me no mischief, but much good, by teaching me more caution for the time to come." By this conduct he saved the priest, and appeased the people. Baffled in this, the cardinal again conspired his death, causing a letter to be sent to him, as if it had been

from his familiar friend, the laird of Kinnier, in which he was desired to come to him in great haste, because he was taken with a sudden sickness.

In the meantime, the cardinal had provided sixty armed men, to lie in wait within a mile and a half of Montrose, in order to murder him as he passed that way.

The letter came to his hands by a boy, who also brought him a horse for the journey, upon seeing which he set forward, accompanied by some of his friends; but, something like a presentiment taking possession of his mind, he turned back, saying, "I will not go; I am forbidden of God; I am assured there is treason. Let some of you go yonder, and tell me what you find." They did so, and discovered the plot, which was quickly communicated to Wishart, which drew from him the remark, "I know I shall end my life by the hands of that bloodthirsty man, but it will not be in this

manner.

A short time after this he left Montrose, and proceeded to Edinburg, in order to propagate the gospel in that city. Lodging with a faithful brother on the way, he arose to spend a season of the night watches in prayer, and, for the purpose, retired to a yard, which so attracted the attention and excited. the curiosity of the inmates of the house that they importuned him to tell them the reason of his conduct. "I am assured," said he, "that my warfare is near at an end; and, therefore, pray to God with me that I shrink not when the battle waxeth hot."

The cardinal, intent upon his death, being informed that he was at this place, caused him to be apprehended, and immediately brought up for trial. No less than eighteen articles were exhibited against him, to each of which he answered with the greatest composure of mind, and in so learned and clear a manner as greatly surprised most of those who were present.

After the examination, the archbishop endeavored to prevail on him to recant; but he was too firmly fixed in his religious principles, and too much enlightened with the truth of the gospel to be in the least moved.

He was condemned to be burnt, and, with bags of gunpowder tied about his body, he was led to the stake, where he earnestly prayed, with Christ-like spirit, for the forgiveness of his murderers. The governor of the castle, who stood so near that he was singed with the flames, exhorted him in a few words to be of good cheer, and strengthen himself in the Lord. "This flame," said the martyr, “indeed occasions trouble to my body, but it hath in no wise broken my spirit. But he who now so proudly looks down upon me from yonder lofty place, (pointing to the cardinal,) shall, ere long, be as ignominiously thrown down as now he proudly lolls at his ease:" which prediction was soon after fulfilled.

The flames gathered strength, so that his voice was hushed, and, in less than an hour, the work was done; the pulsations of his heart were stilled, his race run, the victory gained, and his spirit safely gathered with the immortal ones around the throne in heaven.

CHAPTER XXX.

Lady Jane Grey.

CROWN BEQUEATHED HER BY EDWARD VI.; DEGRADED BY MARY; IMPRISONED AND FINALLY BEHEADED.

OONER would I forfeit ten thousand lives than relinquish a particle of those heavenly principles I have received from the suffrages of my blessed Redeemer."

This was the sentiment of one about to suffer death for his religion, nor was this spirit confined to man's sterner nature, with his strong powers of endurance.

Timid and gentle females, too, beautifully exemplified the power of the gospel, and gave themselves to death with a firmness that nothing could move. Faith, all-conquering faith,

enabled them to rise superior to the world, and bid defiance to their enemies.

Not those alone who trod the humble pathway of life, but those of higher birth, and of proud position, looked above, and perceiving the infinite superiority of heavenly things, and attracted by the glory of the blissful mansions, forsook the things of earth, and, with steady eye and trusting heart, "looked for a better country, even an heavenly."

Thus was it with the subject of this sketch. Though reared in affluence, and destined for the throne, her heart was by no means engrossed with these things; for, earthly riches and pleasures, its honors and emoluments, all grew dim before the unfading glories of the celestial world that beamed upon her soul from above.

Lady Jane was a daughter of the duke of Suffolk, and, during the long illness of Edward VI., she was married to Lord Guilford, son to the duke of Northumberland.

Soon after the consummation of the marriage, the increasing illness of the king rendered it necessary to establish some one upon the throne. He was prevailed upon to set aside, by his last will and testament, his two sisters, Mary and Élizabeth, and bequeathed his crown to Lady Jane.

To this order the king's council all subscribed, and all of the rest of the nobility and officers but one, who having given his consent to Mary's promotion, would on no account subscribe to any other.

This state of things greatly excited the envy of Mary, who forthwith wrote to the lords of the council, claiming the crown upon her brother's decease. The reply confirmed the title of Lady Jane, with words of caution to her to be a quiet and faithful subject if she would regard her own peace and interest. She immediately left London in a private manner, and drew about her a sufficient number of adherents to proclaim her queen, and by a series of unjustifiable wrongs, the bigoted Mary was seated on the throne of England.

No sooner was the sword of authority put into her hands, than she began to employ it against those who had supported the title of Lady Jane. This devoted victim remained with