sudden recovery of his was esteemed miraculous; upon which he returned to Rhemes, and there took up again, though with a greater fervour than ever, the course of life which his sickness had obliged him to interrupt, ever aspiring to the sacred order of priesthood, by which he might be qualified to assist the souls of his neighbours, and return to his own country to meet there with the crown of martyrdom. His common expression (as his brother relates from the testimony of his fellow collegians,) as often as occasion was offered of talking of England, and martyrdom there, being this, vivamus in spe, vivamus in spe, let us live in hope, let us live in hope.

The superiors of the college considering his fervour, procured a dispensation from Rome, that he might be made priest before his time, being but twenty-three years of age. The preparation he made for worthily receiving this holy order was very great, and the impression which his meditations on the dignity of the priesthood, and the greatness of the charge, &c., made upon his mind, was so strong, that it produced a wonderful effect, in his very body, of a shaking, as it were a palsy, which continued with him to his dying day. At this time, for his greater exercise of humility, patience, and charity, he was made prefect of the infirmary: in which office, he so laboured about the sick students, even in the meanest services, that he was called the very pattern of piety and humility. He was ordained priest, extra tempora (by an indult granted to the college by Gregory, XIII.,) at Soissons, March 18, 1590, together with Mr. Alexander Rawlins, who suffered at York, in 1595; and he was sent upon the English mission, by Dr. Barret, then president of the college, on the 9th of April following, in the company of the same Mr. Rawlins, and Mr. Hugo Sewel. In their way they met with a party of Hugonots, belonging to the garrison of Crippy, who robbed them, and stripped them, and carried them into that town. The governor of which, as Mr. Genings writes to Dr. Barret, April 17, from Abbeville, treated them very ill, threatened them with death, and thrust them into a dark dungeon, where they remained from Tuesday till Thursday night. But we,' says he, despised their threats, rejoicing that we suffered these cruelties from them, for the self-same causes, for which we shall suffer death in England, if God gives us strength: so that neither the prison, nor the want of meat, clothes, or beds, any ways terrified us. On Thursday, in the evening, after we had eat nothing that day but a little black bread, we had our papers restored to us, and we were put out of the town, and about ten o'clock at night, we arrived at the suberbs of La Fere, God Almighty showing us the way, which we knew not. When we had here rested our wearied bodies, the next day, the Governor of La Fere, gave us a crown, and sent us away in peace, and now we are at Abbeville.' So far, Mr. Genings, in his letter to Mr. Barret, recorded in the Douay diary.

He and his companions embarked at Treport, on the coast of Normandy, in a French vessel, the master of which, promised to set them ashore, in the night, on the English coast. They landed near Whitby, in Yorkshire, on the side of a high cliff, with great danger of their lives: and when they came into the town to refresh themselves, they found in

the inn, one Ratcliffe, a pursuivant, who suspected them, and put them many questions, concerning their arrival thither; but their time was not yet come; and God delivered them out of his hands, and conducted them safe to a catholic gentleman's house, within two or three miles of Whitby and here they parted from one another; and Mr. Genings, after half a year's stay in the northern parts of the kingdom, going to Lichfield, his native city, in order to gain there, the souls of his nearest relations, found that most of his friends and kindred were dead, except one brother, whom he heard to be in London, but in what part of the town, he could not learn. But as he understood the state of his soul to be, at that time, very bad, his charity determined him to go up to London, to seek after this strayed sheep. Here, for a whole month, he left no place untried, where he could suspect his brother might be but still not finding him, and having now, no hopes of meeting with him, he re solved to leave the town for a time. When, behold! God Almighty brought him to the sight of his brother, though, at first, without knowing him, and that in a strange manner. And thus it was, says this brother in his life, p. 54," as I have heard from his own mouth.

Having, as I have said, a determination to leave London for a while, he walked forth of his inn one morning (certain days before he purposed to travel,) to visit a friend of his, on the other side of the city; and passing by St. Paul's church, when he was on the east side thereof, he suddenly felt a great alteration in his body, insomuch as his face glowed, and, as he thought, his hair stood an end, and all his joints trembling for fear; his whole body seemed to be bathed in a cold sweat. This strange accident, causing him to fear some evil to be imminent towards him, or danger of taking, he looked back to see if he could perceive any body pursuing him, but seeing no body near, but only a youth, in a brown coloured cloak, making no reflection who it should be, he went forward to his intended place to say mass that day. Not long after, on the very morning before he purposed to depart out of the town, the blessed man, recollecting himself in his devotions, seriously prayed, that his departure without finding his desired brother, might increase his patience; and although it afflicted him very much, yet he cried out, fiat voluntas tua: my will is thy will, sweet Lord, thy will be done. His devotions being finished, he went abroad to another place, where he had promised to celebrate mass that day before his departure. Which done, he was returning homewards towards his inn, upon Ludgate-hill, suddenly, as he was going, he felt the same motions as he had done the time before; and as the lamb naturally feareth the ravening wolf, so his innocency fearing the worst, looked back to see who followed him; and behold no man of mark, but a youth in a brown cloak, at the same instant reflecting on the time past, when he suffered the like agitation, and steadfastly viewing the young man, (whom he had left a little boy in the country, and had not seen of eight or nine years,) he was struck with this thought, this may be my brother. Upon this, he approached the youth, and courteously saluting him, inquired what countryman he was? and hearing that he was a Staffordshire man, civilly demanded his name; who

made answer, his name was Genings. By which, he knew he certainly was his brother, so long sought after. Then casting an eye towards heaven, by way of love and thanks, smiling upon the party, he told him, he was his kinsman, and was called Ironmonger; and asked him, what was become of his brother Edmund ? The youth, not suspecting him to be the man, told him, he had heard he was gone to Rome, to the pope, and had become a notable papist, and a traitor both to God and his country; and that if he did return, he would be hanged infallibly. Mr. Edmund hearing this, and smiling at the boy's folly, told him, that he had heard his brother was a very honest man, and loved both the queen and his country, but God above all. But tell me, said he, good cousin John, do you not know him, if you see him? To which John answered, No: but beginning to suspect that he was his brother, and a priest, told him, he could not tell him what he was, but that he greatly feared he had a brother a papist priest, and that he was the man; swearing withal, that if it was so, he would discredit himself and all his friends; and protesting, that in this he would never follow him, although in other matters, he would greatly respect him.'

In a word, Mr. Edmund, upon this occasion, discovered himself to his brother, though not telling him that he was a priest, but did not find in him any present dispositions towards his conversion; neither was it a proper time, or place, to treat upon that subject. Therefore, taking his leave of him, he promised to see him again, after his return out of the country, and then to impart to him some affairs of great consequence. But the conversion of his brother, was to be the fruit of his martyrdom; which, after labouring for some short time in preaching, catechising, and performing other his priestly functions, in the country, he came to meet with in London, as we shall now see.

It was on the 7th of November, 1591, Mr. Genings returned to London, and met that evening, in a catholic house in Holborn, Mr. Polidore Plasden, a very virtuous and godly priest, and a fellow collegian of his, at Rhemes; and treating with him where they should say mass the next day, it being the Octave of All Saints, they concluded to say their mattins together, and to celebrate the next morning, at the house of Mr. Swithin Wells; and acquainted some friends with this design. Here, on the next day, Mr. Genings being at the consecration, and Mr. Plasden, "and Mr. White," priests, Mr. Brian Lacy, gent., John Mason, and Sydney Hodgson, laymen, Mrs. Wells and others being present, Topliffe, the arch priest-catcher, with other officers, came in, and broke open the chamber door, where he was celebrating. Upon this occasion, the gentlemen before named arising from their devotions, thought proper to oppose force to force, so to prevent the profanation of the sacred mysteries; and one of the laymen seeing Mr. Topliffe obstinately bent upon coming in, run upon him to thrust him down stairs, and, in the struggle fell with him. In the mean time, Mr. Plasden, having appointed the rest to keep the broken door, went to the altar and bid Mr. Genings go forward and finish the mass. Then returning to the door, and seeing Mr. Topliffe hastening up with a broken head, and fearing he would raise the whole street, to pacify him, told him, he should come in presently, and they would all yield them

selves up his prisoners; which they did, as soon as the mass was ended when Topliffe, and the rest, rushing in, took Mr. Genings as he was, in his vestments, and all the rest, men and women, to the number of about ten, with their church stuff, books, &c., and carried them to Newgate; who were, shortly after, all examined, by justice Yonge, and returned to prison, to take their trials the next sessions. Mr. Wells, who was absent when this happened, at his return, finding his house ransacked, and his wife carried away to prison, went forthwith to justice Yonge, to expostulate with him about the matter, and to demand his wife, and the keys of his lodging. But the justice, without more ado, sent him to bear the rest company, with a pair of iron bolts on his legs; and examining him the next day in Newgate, upon his answering, that he was not, indeed, privy to the mass being said in his house but wished he had been present, thinking his house highly honoured, by having so divine a sacrifice offered therein, the justice told him, that though he was not at the feast, he should taste of the

sauce.

On the 4th of December, Mr. Genings, and all the rest, were brought upon their trial, and a jury was impanelled to find them all guilty; and yet, all they could prove against them, was no more, than that one of them had said mass in Mr. Well's house, and the rest had heard the said mass. Many bitter words and scoffs were used by the judges, and others upon the bench, particularly to Mr. Genings, because he was very young, and had angered them with disputes. And the more to make him a scoff to the people, they vested him, not now in his priestly garments (in which they had before carried him through the streets) but in a ridiculous fool's coat, which they found in Mr. Well's house. In conclusion, the next day the jury brought in their verdict; by which the three priests were all found guilty of high treason, for returning into the realm, contrary to the statute of 27 Elizabeth; and all the rest of felony, for being aiding and assisting to the priests. And it was appointed that they should all die at Tyburn, except Mr. Genings and Mr. Wells, who were to be executed before Mr. Well's own door, in Gray's-inn-fields. The judges, after pronouncing sentence, began to persuade them to conform to the protestant religion, assuring them, that by so doing, they should obtain mercy; but otherwise they must certainly expect to die. But they all bravely answered,-That they would live and die in the true Roman and catholic faith, which they and all antiquity had ever professed; and that they would, by no means go to the protestant churches, or once think that the queen could be the head of the church in spirituals.

At their return to Newgate, the three priests were cast into the dungeon and, whilst they were there, justice Yonge, Mr. Topliffe, and others, twice or thrice came to the prison, and calling for Mr. Genings, promised him both life and liberty, if he would go to their church, and renounce his religion; giving him also hopes of a living and promotion, in that case; but they found him still constant and resolute. With which they being highly offended, put him into a dark hole within the prison, where he could not so much as see his own hands, nor get up or down without hazard of breaking his neck. Here he remained in

prayer and contemplation, without any food or sustenance, till the hour of his death.

On the 10th of December, at eight in the morning, Mr. Plasden, Mr. White, &c., were carried to Tyburn, and there executed; Mrs. Wells, to her great grief, was reprieved, and died in prison. Mr. Genings and Mr. Wells, were brought, according to sentence, to Gray's-innfields, over-against Mr. Well's door, to suffer there. Where, after a few speeches of some ministers that were there present, Mr. Genings was taken off the sled, and, like St. Andrew, joyfully saluted the gibbet prepared for him. Being put upon the ladder (p. 84), many questions were asked him by some standers by, whereto he still answered directly. At length Mr. Topliffe cried out, with a loud voice, Genings, Genings, confess thy fault, thy popish treason, and the queen, by submission, no doubt, will grant thee pardon. To which he mildly answered, I know not, Mr. Topliffe, in what I have offended my dear anointed princess; for if I have offended her, or any other, in any thing, I would willingly ask her and all the world forgiveness. If she be offended with me, without a cause, for professing my faith and religion, because I am a priest, or because I will not turn minister against my conscience, I shall be, I trust, excused and innocent, before God. I must obey God, saith St. Peter, rather than men, Acts, v. And I must not, in this case, acknowledge a fault where there is none. If to return into England priest, or to say mass, be popish treason, I here confess I am a traitor; but I think not so: and, therefore, I acknowledge myself guilty of these things, not with repentance, or sorrow of heart, but with an open protestation of inward joy, that I have done so good deeds; which, if they were to do again, I would, by the permission and assistance of God, accomplish the same, although with the hazard of a thousand lives."

Mr. Toplitle being very angry at this speech, scarce giving him liberty to say a pater noster, bid the hangman turn the ladder; which being done, he presently caused the rope to be cut; the holy priest being little or nothing stunned, stood on his feet, casting his eyes towards heaven, till the hangman tripped up his heels, to make him fall on the block, on which he was to be quartered. After he was dismembered, the violence of the pain, caused him to utter these words, with a loud vowe, Oh it smarts! which Mr. Wells hearing, replied, ‘Alas! sweet soul, thy pain is great, indeed, but almost past; pray for me now, most holy saint, that mine may come. After he was ripped up, and his bowels cast into the fire, if credit may be given, says his brother, " p. 86,” to hundreds of people standing by, and to the hangman himself, the blessed martyr, his heart being in the executioner's hand,) uttered these words, sancte Gregori ora pro me: which the hangman hearing, swore a most wicked oath, Z——ds ! see, his heart is in my hand, and yet Gregory is in his mouth. O egregious papist.`

Among many catholics that were present at his execution, there was a devout virgin, who had wholly dedicated herself to the service of God; who had a great desire to get, if possible, some inte part of his flesh, or of his blood, to keep as a relic; bat not being able to come meat the gibbet for the crowd, she foliowed his quarters, as they were