bloody man, that in derision he called him Mr. Speaker. The articles objected to him respected auricular confession, the real presence, and the mass. To these he replied, that he did not allow the necessity of confession to a priest, or the body and blood of Christ to be corporally present in the sacrament; and that the mass was full of idolatry and abomination, and against the word of God. And when the bishop began to read his sentence, and was endeavouring to persuade him to recant, "I will not forsake mine opinions," said he, "except you, my lord, can refell them by Scriptures: and I care not for your divinity; for you condemn all men, and prove nothing against them." Neither would he lose the opportunity of warning the people that stood by. For "the Church," said he, "whereof the pope is supreme head, is no part of Christ's catholic Church;" and pointing to Bonner, "good people," he added, " beware of him, and such as he is; for these be the people that deceive you." Then he was delivered over to the secular power, and afterwards conveyed to St. Albans.

As he was on his road to that place, a certain schoolmaster came to him, urging him with the authority of the doctors in favour of popery; but he was answered out of the Scriptures: and as he would not allow Tankerfield's allegations from the Bible unless interpreted by the opinions of the fathers, so neither would Tankerfield credit any position of his, except he could confirm it by the Scriptures. In the end, they parted in amity, the schoolmaster protesting that he meant the martyr no more hurt than his own soul.

Among the crowd which I described as gathered round the Cross- Keys Inn, there were various opinions uttered. Some grieved to see such a godly man brought thither to die a painful death, and others praised God for his constancy in the faith. Some, again, said it was a pity he should hold such heretical opinions; and others reviled him, and declared he was unworthy to live. But he spoke kindly and convincingly to them all, and sent away several with even weeping eyes.

As the host of the inn seemed inclined to shew him good-will, Tankerfield requested that he might have a fire in the chamber. This was granted him; and then sitting on a form before it, he took off his shoes and hose, and stretched his leg into the flame. But when he felt the pain, he quickly drew it back, thus evidencing the conflict betwixt the flesh and spirit, which the martyrologist has described with graphic effect. "The flesh said, O thou fool, wilt thou burn, and needest not? The spirit said, Be not afraid; for this is nothing in respect of fire eternal. The flesh said, Do not leave the company of thy friends and acquaintance, which love thee and will let thee lack nothing. The spirit said, The company of Jesus Christ, and his glorious presence, doth exceed all fleshly friends. The flesh said, Do not shorten thy time; for thou mayest live, if thou wilt, much longer. The spirit said, This life is nothing unto the life in heaven, which lasteth for ever." By and by, as the time drew on when he should suffer, Tankerfield, with that simpleheartedness which seems to have been so peculiarly characteristic of him, asked for a pint of malmsey wine and a loaf of bread. And then, when these were brought, he kneeled down, and humbly confessed his

sins to God, and offered up an earnest prayer; then having read over the account, as narrated by the evangelists and by St. Paul, of the institution of the sacrament, he said, "O Lord, thou knowest it, I do not this to derogate authority from any man, or in contempt of those which are thy ministers; but only because I cannot have it ministered according to thy word." And then he received the bread and the wine with giving of thanks. But of mere bodily food he would take none; for when some of his friends advised him to eat meat, No, he replied, he would not eat that which should do others good, that had more need, and had longer time to live than he.

And now the bridal feast was over, and the joyous wedding guests were separating; and then came the sheriff's with their guard to carry George Tankerfield to the stake. It was his bridal; and shortly he knew that he should sit down at the marriage-banquet of the Lamb. With a cheerful spirit he went to his death; and when he had kneeled down and prayed, he said, that although he might have a sharp dinner, yet he hoped to have a joyful supper in heaven. While the faggots were putting about him, a priest came to urge him to believe the mass. But the martyr cried vehemently from the stake, "Fie on that abominable idol! good people, do not believe him-good people, do not believe him." On this, the mayor of the town commanded fire to be immediately put to the heretic; and said that if he had but one load of faggots in the whole world, he would give them to burn him. But there were some there who breathed a different spirit. A certain knight took him by the hand, and said softly, "Good brother, be strong in Christ." And Tankerfield replied, "O sir, I thank you; I am so, I thank God." When the fire was set to him, he desired the sheriffs and people to pray for him; and many of them did Then embracing the flame, he bathed himself, as it were, in it; and, calling on the name of the Lord Jesus, was quickly out of pain. So patiently indeed did he endure, that some superstitious papists said, that it was the devil, who was so strong in him as to keep him, and such heretics as he was, from feeling pain.

So.

bread" (Prov. xx. 13). Again, "the drunkard and the glutton shall come to poverty; and drowsiness shall clothe a man with rags" (Prov. xxiii. 21). Every kind of vice is ruinous, and many young persons by leaving the path of virtue are brought into a melancholy state of degradation and dependence. On the other hand, provident and virtuous habits are the greatest safeguard to the independence and respectability of the labouring classes. Make them provident and virtuous, and you will make them independent and respectable.

To remove the evil of a too-great depreciation in the price of labour, what more can be done by the labouring classes? They suffer from the supply of labour being greater than its demand. How can this evil be rectified? Remove the labourers, and the supply of labour will be lessened; consequently its value will be increased-wages will rise. But where are the supernumerary labourers to be removed to? Does not reason answer, To the place where their services are wanted and their labour would be valued. Emigration is nothing new; it is the means by which the different parts of the world have been peopled. Every flourishing country of which we have any account in history, has had its colonies, to which the inhabitants of the mother-country have emigrated. The East and West Indies have long been resorted to by the youth of the nobility and gentry of our own country. Why should not our colonies also be made in like manner advantageous to our labouring classes? Let emigration be regarded by labourers, not as a sort of unjust transportation from home to an inhospitable distant country, but as an enterprising expedition, which is to deliver them from the degradation of pauperism, and raise them to the exalted position of independent members of society.

The next questions for consideration are, how can the expenses of emigration be provided for? and what inducements can be offered to the persons who emigrate, so that it may be advantageous to them as well as to those who remain at home? The lessening the number of labourers at home, by emigration, would have the effect of raising their wages, improving their circumstances, and placing them in a condition to assist the emigrants. And as the improvement of the condition of those who remain at home arises from the departure of those who go abroad, wisdom and justice seem to dictate the formation of a plan by which the emigrant may also be benefited. This may be done by the formation of a sort of mutual assurance or benefit society, to which labourers generally should subscribe, and the fund so raised should be expended for the benefit of those who leave their native country to earn their livelihood in a far-distant land.

The great objection of the poor to emigrate is, that they have to go to a country to which they are entire strangers, without friends to receive them, or money to enable them to enter upon their new sphere of life with advantage. To give the emigrant spirit and heart at landing on a foreign shore, he ought to be secure of meeting with friends, and immediate employment on such terms as will compensate for the change he has made. This friendly provision should be made by those who stay at home, reaping the advantage of the emigration of others. And this might be done with ease, if a just and generous and confiding spirit could be disseminated amongst the labouring classes generally, so that every labourer would contribute regularly his weekly pence. This would raise a fund amply sufficient to fit out a numerous band of emigrants on a liberal scale, because the labouring classes can number their thousands and tens of thousands; and when it is considered that a thousand pence is above 41., and ten thousand pence is above 401., and that this might easily be multiplied to an immense extent, proportionate to the large number who form the labouring classes of this country, we need not fear

a deficiency of funds. Then when it is further considered, that this large sum would come in weekly, how large a number of emigrants would it send out with a comfortable independence, to enter on their work and toil, which they must expect in their new abode! Were this plan carried on with spirit, and the contributions became general, the labourer at home might calculate that for every penny he so contributed, he would have a return of a shilling by a proportionate increase of wages. And when it is borne in mind how small a superabundance of labourers tends to lower the rate of wages, the number of emigrants required to raise the rate of wages will not be so great as might be imagined. Some such plan must be resorted to, if the labouring classes are to be raised to that respectable independence, which is so requisite for the promotion of the general welfare, prosperity, and happiness of the country.

The low rate of wages at which men, women, and children in this country are positively slaving to obtain a scanty subsistence, and which enables the rich to live in an undue excess of luxury, is as prejudicial to them and to the country as the excess of poverty is to the labouring classes. The state of society which the prayer of Agur would uphold ought to be encouraged for the general good: "Give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with food convenient for me; lest I be full, and deny thee, and say, Who is the Lord? or lest I be poor, and steal, and take the name of my God in vain" (Prov. xxx. 8, 9). At present the rich enjoy more than their proper share of the produce of labour, and the labouring classes less. Religion, morality, charity, wisdom, and justice, demand that this state of things should be altered. The method pointed out in this letter has, it is hoped, some claim to attention, as being that by which it may be done fairly and peaceably. The two scales of society ought to be kept as equally balanced as possible-each in the state the good providence of God has appointed; for it is clear, it could never have been his intention, nor can it meet with his approval, that one class of society should be living in an undue excess of luxury, whilst many of the other class are almost destitute of the necessaries of life.

In conclusion, my dear friends, I exhort you not to despond; your present circumstances are most distressing, but they are not beyond relief. Fear God, and honour the queen, and you will yet do well. You have still many friends among the affluent, who, regarding this world's riches in the light they ought, are ready to distribute, willing to communicate for the supply of your necessities, if they only knew how they could effectually relieve you.

...

I look to the influence of true Christian charity for accomplishing all that has been proposed: it is that alone which will turn the heart of the rich to the poor, and the heart of the poor to the rich; relieve the distresses of our country, and unite all classes in the closest bonds of affection. It is the Spirit of Christ which will lead his followers to bring forth the first and most important fruit of the Spirit-love, or deeds of charity. "For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be rich" (2 Cor. viii. 9).

"Bear ye

one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ" (Gal. vi. 2). "Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others" (Phil. ii. 4).

CARE OF THE SOUL:

A Sermon,

BY THE REV. GEORGE BRYAN, M.A. Minister of Huttoft, Lincolnshire.

PSALM CXlii. 4.

"No man cared for my soul."

THE Psalm, in which we find the text, declares, in pitiable terms, the loss and destitution to which David was on one occasion reduced. David, it may be observed, was at that time the elect king of Israel; but he had to go through innumerable troubles in his way to the crown-he was every where persecuted, afflicted, hated. Now, we think this a true representation of the Christian's condition in this life. If you believe, you are destined to wear a crown, a brighter crown than David's, a crown of glory that fadeth not away; but until you come into possession of it, expect more or less of trial and trouble. The Scriptures deal fairly with us, and tell us the nature of religion, and what we may expect from it hereafter, and what we shall have with it in the present time. In the covenant of grace, it is determined that the cross shall take precedence of the crown, and that it is even through much tribulation that we must enter the kingdom of heaven. The world and Satan will not allow the believer rest and quietness; and his own heart will give him as much trouble to keep it in order as either of them. And God will often see it needful to lay stripes on his children, to shew them their errors, and to lead them in the good and the right way. For these reasons, many are the afflictions of the righteous.

The thing which seems most of all to have distressed David in his difficulties is that stated in the text-" No man cared for my soul." And it is no wonder that this circumstance should harass his mind greatly. There is much more implied in the words than can be seen at a glance-" no man cared for my soul." Then, what care men for any thing that I have or am? My soul is a treasure of more value to me than a thousand worlds, and they care nothing about it. Then, what care they about me in any way? He that despises my best possession will have no regard for those things of mine which are of less value, and common. He that cares nothing about my soul, cares in reality nothing about my interest in this life or in the next; yea, all I have is in his esteem as a wind that passeth away and cometh not again. But there is another reason why the circumstance, "no man cared for my soul," distressed David. He felt sure, after this, that no man would hesitate to do him the worst injury. What do you do with that you care

nothing about? You throw it away-you break it against the wall-you tread it under foot. So, if people care nothing about the soul of another, they will care nothing about slandering his character, injuring his property, maiming his person, yea, and treading his life down to the ground. This David knew; he knew that the man who would do him a greater evil would not care about doing him a less; he knew that they who cared not for his soul would not care about shedding his blood; and therefore fear and trembling gat hold of him, and, as he says in another Psalm, " my heart in me is desolate."

But when David says, "No man cared for my soul," does he speak forth the words of truth and soberness? We think not; we think he spoke unadvisedly with his lips; we think fear got, for a time, the mastery of his faith; we think that, so far from no man, we can point out two men that cared for his soul. First, He cared for his soul himself. He might not know its full value; but he knew so much of it, that he wished it to be safe and happy; he would not for worlds have it cast away, or hurt, or betrayed in any way. How do I know this? I know, because I see in the Psalm, that he had put his soul under Divine protection; and this done, prayed God to take care of it and him. He knew he could not safely be his own keeper; therefore he begs God to keep him, and, says he, "bring my soul out of prison." Here, then, there is proof that one man cared for his soul.

Secondly, The man Jesus Christ cared for him. Christ shews that he cared for David, by giving him life, and breath, and all things richly to enjoy an earthly crown, and a crown of glory. Of these tokens for good, David might be insensible for a season; but when the sun broke out afresh upon him, it gave him light to see his favourable position, and he exclaims, "Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits; who redeemeth thy life from destruction, and crowneth thee with loving-kindness and tender mercies; who satisfieth thy mouth with good things, making thee young and lusty as an eagle" (Ps. ciii.).

Thus David's complaint, "No man cared for my soul," is proved to have its foundation rather in despondency than in fact. He walked in darkness; but he was all the time on safe ground. Enemies gathered round him; but he had at his right hand a Friend that sticketh closer than a brother. And this is what we wish further to shew,

I. That Christ careth for our soul; and II. To inquire whether we have a care for our own soul.

I. The man Jesus Christ careth for our

soul. You cannot doubt of this, when you consider that Christ is man. It is true, that you cannot so conclude of men in general; but if you know a certain person to be a good man, you may always expect from him considerate and kind offices. A good man is merciful to his beast; will he be any thing less to a fellow-creature and a fellow-Christian? Now, we know Christ to be man, a good man, the best of men. We know him to be a man of God, and the man after God's own heart, yea, God-man and God. Now, if good men are kind to their fellow-men, what may we not expect from the first and best of men, from a Divine man, of care and love; who being man, can be touched with a feeling of our infirmities, and being God, can supply all our wants out of his riches in grace and glory?

And, perhaps, some of us have experienced the care of Jesus over us. We have been in trouble. In the trouble we have spread out, by the prayer of faith, our desires before God to be kept in the trial, or delivered out of it. In time we have the experience of both mercies; and we have therefore in that experience an inward, and, it may be too, an outward witness of Christ's regard for our interests and for our soul. If he had meant us ill, he had left us in trouble; but, inasmuch as he interposes at the needful moment to deliver us out of evil, we can doubt of his care no longer; only it is to be regretted, that when good cometh in this way, people do not always see the hand that brings it. They look at second causes, not at the first; they praise the medicine which promotes a cure, but forget the mercy out of sight by which the cure is performed. The proper spirit to be of, is that which actuated the Psalmist: "Not unto us, O Lord, but unto thy name be the praise."

Again; if Jesus has had a care for us in the past and at the present, it is our hope that he will extend his care for us into the time to come; for, whether we see them in the distance or not, dark and dismal days are approaching upon us. There are the days of old age, when a man shall say, I have no pleasure in them; days of sickness, when every bone in our skin and every atom of flesh shall cry out for pain; days of disappointment over ourselves and our children, when we shall lament that we have spent money for that which is not bread; days of dying, when we shall stand on the borders of two worlds, bidding farewell to the one, and plunging into the eternal joy or woe of the other.

Now, what is our comfort in these untried emergencies? Simply this, that Christ careth for us. In the holy Scriptures we find him addressing and encouraging all sorts

"Suffer

of people. Of the young he says, the little children to come unto me;" and of the old, "To your hoar hairs I will carry you." If people are in trouble, he bids them, "Come unto me, and I will give you rest;" if under conviction of sin, "I will abundantly pardon you;" if in fear, "All things shall work together for good to them that love God;" if resolved to do wickedly, "Hearken unto me, ye stout-hearted, I bring near my righteousness." Certainly, if these passages prove any thing, they prove Christ's care for us.

But there is this further proof to the same effect-a proof and evidence which as far outshines all others together as the sun outshines the stars-Christ died for us. He gave his life to save us from death, and to exalt us to everlasting life. Am I sure of this? Then it is impossible for me any longer to doubt Christ's care for my soul. I may doubt that man's regard who gives me a good word or money, because he may expect as much again. Self-interest may be the sole ground of his generosity; but I can have no such misgiving when a man yields his life for me. This sacrifice settles the point at once; and by this we prove Christ careth for us. He careth for my soul; and my body and circumstances are no less under his care. The same hand that takes care of my chief treasure will duly regard my inferior affairs; and He who gave himself for us will with himself freely give us all things.

And thus, we think, it is made to appear on good evidence that Christ careth for us. His care of us began at our creation, and did not cease on the sad miscarriage of the human race in Paradise. After that, the kindness and love of God toward man appeared in Jesus Christ our Saviour (Tit. iii. 4), and continues to this day, and will continue for ever, over them that love him. Happy, surely, are the people which are in such a case. They find that the true way of taking care of themselves is to accept the Saviour to take care of them. His care is their shield and bulwark, their consolation, their exceeding great and everlasting reward. And we leave them in his hands, to inquire whether we are of their number, i. e. in other words,

II. Whether we have a care for our soul? Alas, that there should be a doubt on this point in respect to any of us! Yet we fear that it is with thousands not a doubt, but a certainty, that they care not for their soul. How do I know this? I answer, What do people care for the thing which they never think of? If I were to tell you of certain common occurrences which took place in a distant land a thousand years ago, possibly you would not think of them. Why? Because