SPIRITUAL HEROES. CHAPTER I. THE ISLINGTON CONGREGATION. a 66 Ir was on May-day, A. D. 1558,* when Mary occupied the throne of England, that “ certain companie of godlie and innocent persons, to the number of forty men and women," met together in a back close in the field near St. John's Wood, by the town of Islington. Wonderful changes have been wrought since then in the whole of the neighborhood. The "Iseldon" of that day was a pretty little village, surrounded by fields sprinkled with gardens, wherein, as Stow informs us, were built many fair summer-houses, some of them like midsummer pageants, with towers, turrets, and chimney-tops, not so much for use or profit, as for show and pleasure." On the return of spring, the Londoners loved to ramble amidst its rural scenes, and to drink in the balmy breezes which swept over from the Highgate hills; and, in the merry month of May, many a light-hearted group of citizens might be seen going up Goswell-street, with "its alleys, banquetinghouses, and bowling-places," to gather, in the fields and gardens round Islington, branches and flowers for their gardens. And on May-day the richly-garnished May-pole Foxe, ii. 1850. Roger Holland's examination. was duly erected on the green, gathering round it the youths and maidens of the village to celebrate their ancient games. But it was for a far different purpose that the company had assembled in that back close. "They were," says John Foxe," sitting together at prayer, and solemnly occupied in the meditation of God's holy Word." They were earnest souls, recently emancipated from the bondage of Popery—a band of worshippers, tired of the idolatry and formalism of the Papal Church, and convinced that they who worship the Father must worship Him in spirit and in truth-a band of students, weary of the mental slavery of Rome, and thirsting for a full acquaintance with the Book that God had given them. For centuries the Bible had been withheld from the people. The story told of the Cathach, a MS. of the Psalms, said to be written by St. Columba, the great Irish saint, may be taken as symbolical of the history of the Scriptures throughout the mediæval period. Enshrined in a magnificent case, carried as a sacred standard before the warrior in battle, employed as a solemn sanction in the taking of oaths, the Cathach was preserved in the highest veneration from age to age; but it was strictly forbidden, under pain of some awful calamity, that the mysterious volume should ever be opened. So had the Bible throughout the middle ages been treated. It was reverenced, but it was closed. There were, however, many at the time of which we speak, like the Islington worthies, who had broken the spell, and had dared to open the sealed book. The parties who met in the woods of Islington to feed upon the truth, assembled there from necessity, not from choice-they were under the ban of persecution. Their faith exposed them to the charge of heresy-their worship to the charge of schism. So numerous had been the re cent examples of burning people for such crimes, that they were well aware of the peril they incurred. They belonged to a party of Christians, to whom frequent reference is made in the documents connected with the early history of English Protestantism. Although," says George Withers, in his letter to the Prince Elector Palatine, speaking of the reign of Queen Mary," the Church seemed at first to be entirely overthrown, and the godly were dispersed in every quarter, yet a congregation of some importance collected itself in London, chose its ministers by common consent, appointed deacons, and in the midst of enemies, more sharp-sighted than Argus, and more cruel than Nero, the Church of God was again restored entire; and, in a word, complete in all its parts. And though it was often dispersed by the attacks of its enemies, and a very great number of its members perished at the stake, it nevertheless grew and increased every day."* This Congregational Church had to worship in secret, and remarkable instances of the providential escape of its members are related by Foxe. At Blackfriars, about Aldgate, and in a cloth-worker's loft in a strait alley, "near the Great Conduit of sweet water in Cheape" they assembled privately, and were detected by spies, but through "the Lord's vigilant providence the mischief was prevented, and they delivered." “Another like escape they made in a ship at Billingsgate, belonging to a certain good man of Ley, where, in the open sight of the people, they were congregated together, and yet through God's mighty power escaped. Betwixt Radcliffe and Redriffe, in a ship, called Jesus's ship, (so they had a floating chapel in those times,) twice or thrice they assembled, having there closely, after their accustomed manner, both sermon, * See Note [1], at the end of the Volume. prayer, and communion, and yet, through the protection of the Lord, they returned, although not unespied, yet untaken." The numbers which assembled on different occasions varied from forty to two hundred. Their prospects and increase, from time to time, are distinctly noticed by Foxe and others. Nor did they lack a succession of strong-hearted men to watch over them in the pastoral office, despite of persecution and death. The list of their honorable names has been preserved: Scambler, afterwards Bishop of Peterborough, whence he was translated to the see of Norwich; Fowler, whose name alone remains; John Rough, formerly one of the Black Friars at Stirling, and the friend of young John Knox; Augustine Bernheir, a foreigner, who resided with Latimer, witnessed his martyrdom, and collected and published his sermons; and Thomas Bentham, who was raised by Elizabeth to the see of Lichfield and Coventry. Strype mentions Rose among the pastors of this church. Such a succession of pastors, in the space of a few years, shows how troublous were the times, and how much of moral heroism was to be found in the witnesses for truth. Rough was a noble character. He had zealously preached the Gospel in many of the northern parts of England, and had been obliged to flee to the Continent, where he and his wife supported themselves by knitting caps and hose; but he returned to England in 1557 to be the pastor of the prescribed flock. He preached to them at Islington. He had seen four Protestant martyrs burnt in that very place. There, as he said, he learned the way to die; and on a Sabbath morning, in December of the same year, he was apprehended at the Saracen's Head at Islington,-some quaint-looking old dwelling, no doubt, rich in hallowed associations of pure worship and heaven-born piety, of which building we |