ward towards England; where, after his arrival, he occupied himself in all functions belonging to priesthood, with great zeal and charity; and soon after was taken in Mr. Roscarrocke's chamber, in London, and committed to the Marshalsea, where he lay night and day in a great pair of shackles, for the space of a month.

In November, after his imprisonment, there came word from the knight marshal, to the keeper of the Marshalsea, to understand of him, whether there were any papists in his prison that durst or would maintain their cause by disputation; and if there were any such, that then they should send him such questions, as they would defend, subscribed with their hands, and make themselves ready to dispute; for they should understand from him shortly of the manner, time, and place, how and where to dispute. This motion was so well liked of the catholics, that Mr. Sherwine and two other priests, that were afterwards condemned with him, viz. Mr. John Hart, and Mr. Bosgrave, offered themselves to the combat, drew up questions, subscribed their names, and sent them to the said knight marshal; but the questions pleasing him not, they accepted of other questions sent unto them from him, and expected with joyful minds the day appointed to dispute. But, lo! the very day before they should have disputed, Mr. Sherwine was removed to the Tower, where he was at sundry and several times examined and racked.

'In his first racking, he was asked where father Campion and father Parsons were? why he and they came over into England? what acquaintance he had here in England? whether he had said mass in Mr. Roscarroke's chamber? and whether he had of him at any time money? He was a close prisoner almost a whole year, in which time he had divers conferences with ministers, sometimes in private, at other times in an open audience of honourable and worshipful persons, to the honour of God, the benefit of his afflicted church, and to the admiration of most of his hearers.

He was, after his first racking, set out in a great snow, and laid upon the rack; and the gentleman in whose chamber he was taken, was kept hard by, in a dark corner, to hear his pitiful groans. 66 Of his second racking, the Reverend Mr. Broughton, in a manuscript relation sent over to Douay in 1626, writes, that his brother, Mr. John Sherwine, still living, being asked by a priest concerning his brother, told him, that he, coming to his brother in the Tower of London, his said brother told him, that he had been twice racked, and the latter time he lay five days and nights without any food, or speaking to any body. All which time, he lay, as he thought, in a sleep before our Saviour on the cross. After which time, he came to himself: not finding any distemper in his joints by the extremity of the torture, it was offered him by the bishops of Canterbury and London, that if he would but go to Paul's church, he should have the second bishopric of England. "

'On Midsummer day, in the year 1581, he was called before the lieutenant of the Tower (as likewise all his fellow prisoners were) who demanded of him, by commission from the council, whether he would go to their Common prayer service? who refusing, the lieutenant told

him the danger of a late statute made in that behalf; and farther, that he should be indicted upon that statute within two or three days. So that at that time, it seems, they had no such matter to lay against him, as was afterwards pretended; for it was not as then thoroughly hatched.

The order of his life," "during his imprisonment," in his spare diet, his continual prayer and meditation, his long watching, with frequent and sharp discipline used upon his body, caused great admiration to his keeper; who would always call him, a Man of God, and the best and devoutest priest that ever he saw in his life.

He was brought to the bar as we have seen, with father Campion, and condemned for the same pretended conspiracy; of which, both living and dying, he ever protested himself to be wholly innocent. '— After his condemnation, he wrote to his friends in the following terms, Your liberality I have received, and disposed thereof to my great contentation; when hereafter, at the pleasure of God, we shall meet in heaven, I trust you shall be repaid, cum fœnore. Delay of our death doth somewhat dull me; it was not without cause that our master himself said, Quod facis fac cito.

Truth it is, I hoped ere this, casting off this body of death, to have kissed the precious glorified wounds of my sweet Saviour, sitting in the throne of his Father's own glory. Which desire, as I trust, deseending from above, hath so quieted my mind, that, since the judicial sentence proceeded against us, neither the sharpness of the death hath much terrified me, nor the shortness of life much troubled me.

My sins are great, I confess, but I flee to God's mercy: my negligences are without number, I grant: but I appeal to my Redeemer's clemency: I have no boldness but in his blood; his bitter passion is my only consolation. It is comfortable that the prophet hath recorded, that he hath written us in his hands. Oh! that he would vouchsafe to write himself in our hearts, how joyful should we then appear before the tribunal seat of his Father's glory; the dignity whereof, when I think of, my flesh quaketh, not sustaining, by reason of mortal infirmity, the presence of my Christ's majesty.

Our Lord perfect us to that end whereunto we were created, that, leaving this world we may live in him, and of him, world without end. It is thought that upon Monday or Tuesday next, we shall be passable; God grant us humility, that we, following his footsteps, may obtain the victory.' So far the letter, which speaks the spirit of the man.

When he came out of the lieutenant's hall, with others of his companions, two days, or thereabouts, before he was martyred (having talked with a minister, who was never so held up to the wall in his life, by report of such as stood by,) he uttered these words: ah, father Campion, I shall be shortly above yonder fellow, pointing to the sun, with such a courage that some said he was the resolutest man that ever they saw.

He will never be forgotten in the Tower, for some words which he spoke when he was ready to go to execution. Charke, the minister, can' best report them, who stood hard by. Some of Charke's fellow ministers said, those words could not come from a guilty conscience.'

The day before his death he wrote the following letter to the Rev. Mr. John Woodward, his unele :

'Absit ut gloriemur nisi in cruce Domini Jesu Christi, &c.

My dearest Uncle,

After many conflicts, mixed with spiritual consolations and Christian comforts, it hath pleased God, of his infinite mercy, to call me out of this vale of misery. To him, therefore, for all his benefits at all times and forever, be all praise and glory.

Your tender care always had over me, and cost bestowed on me, I trust, in heaven shall be rewarded. My prayers you have still had, and that was but duty; other tokens of a grateful mind I could not show, by reason of my restrained necessity.

This very morning, which is the festival of St. Andrew, I was advertised by superior authority, that to-morrow, I was to end the course of this life: God grant that I may do it to the imitation of this noble apostle and servant of God, and that with joy I may say, rising off the hurdle, salve sancta crux, &c.

Innocency is my only comfort against all the forged villainy which is fathered on my fellow priests and me. Well, when by the high Judge, God himself, this false vizard of treason shall be removed from true catholic men's faces, then shall it appear who they be that carry a well meaning, and who an evil murdering mind: In the mean season, God forgive all injustice, and if it be his blessed will to convert our persecutors, that they may become professors of his truth.

'Prayers for my soul procure for me, my loving patron and so, having great need to prepare myself for God, never quieter in mind, nor less troubled towards God, binding all my iniquities up in his precious wounds, I bid you farewell; yea, and once again, the lovingest uncle that ever kinsman had in this world, farewell.

God grant us both his grace and blessing until the end, that living in his fear, and dying in his favour, we may enjoy one the other for ever. Salute all my fellow catholics. And so, without farther troubling of you, my sweetest benefactor, farewell. On St. Andrew's day, 1581.

Your nephew,

RALPH SHERWINE, Priest.

After Mr. Campion was executed, and the butchery finished, the hangman, taking hold of Mr. Sherwine with his hands all bloody, said to him, thinking to terrify him, come, Sherwine, take thou also thy wages. But the holy man, nothing dismayed, embraced him with a cheerful countenance, and reverently kissed the blood that stuck to his hands; at which the people were very much moved. Then getting into the cart, he employed some time in prayer and contemplation, having his eyes shut and his hands lifted up to heaven. After which, he asked if the people looked for any speech from him? Many of the people, and some also of the more honourable sort, answering yes, he began, with a manly courage, and a loud voice, first to render thanks to

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each of the three persons of the eternal trinity for the mercies and blessings bestowed upon him; and then was going on to give an account of his faith, when Sir Francis Knowles interrupted him, and bid him confess his treason against the queen. Mr. Sherwine, with great constancy, replied, I am innocent of any such crime. And when he was still farther pressed to acknowledge himself guilty, he said, I have no occasion to tell a lie; it is a case where my soul is at stake; and so still persisted to maintain his innocence, adding, that although in this short time of mortal life he was to undergo the infamy and punishment of a traitor, he made no doubt of his future happiness, through Jesus Christ, in whose death, passion, and blood, he only trusted.

Then he made a sweet prayer to our Lord Jesus, acknowledging the imperfection, misery, and sinful wretchedness of his own nature, still protesting his innocence from all treasons and traitorous practices; and that his going out of this realm beyond the seas, was only for his soul's health, to learn to save his soul. And being again tempted by Sir Francis Knowles, he answered in this wise; Tush, tush, you and I shall answer this before another Judge, where my innocence shall be known, and you will see that I am guiltless of this. Whereupon Sir Francis said, we know you are no contriver or doer of this treason, for you are no man of arms; but you are a traitor by consequence. But Mr. Sherwine boldly answered, if to be a catholic only, if to be a perfect catholic, be to be a traitor, then am I a traitor.

'After which words, being by authority debarred of any farther speech, he said, I forgive all who either by general presumption, or particular error, have procured my death and so devoutly prayed to his Saviour Jesus. After which prayer, he was pressed to speak his opinion touching pope Pius his bull: to which point he gave no answer. Then being willed to pray for the queen, he answered, I have and do. At which words the Lord Howard again asked, which queen he meant? whether Elizabeth, queen? To whom, somewhat smiling, he said, yea for Elizabeth, queen, I now at this instant pray my Lord God to make her his servant in this life, and after this life, co-heir with Jesus Christ.

'When he had thus prayed, there was some that said openly, that he meant to make her a papist; to whom he openly replied, God forbid otherwise and so recollecting himself in prayer, he died patiently, constantly, and mildly, crying, Jesu, Jesu, Jesu, be to me a Jesus.'

ALEXANDER BRIAN, PRIEST.*

He was born in Dorsetshire, and studied for a while in Hart Hall, Oxford; but not liking the religion of the times, he left both the university and the kingdom, and went over to Douay, to the English college or seminary there, anno 1576. Here, and at Rhemes, he prosecuted his studies; and being ordained priest, was sent back upon the

* From a printed account by an eye-witness of his death: published in 1582.

English mission, in 1579.. Where, before his apprehension, he reconciled to the church an ancient gentlemen, father to Robert Parsons, S. J. 'About the 28th of April, 1581, he was apprehended in his chamber at midnight, by Norton; his chamber was rifled, and three pounds, in money, taken from him (for that is a principal verb, says my author, in all apprehensions of catholics) his apparel and other things, especially a trunk, wherein was a silver chalice, and much other good stuff, which was not his, but committed to his custody, was taken away also, and he sent close prisoner to the Counter, with commandment to stop all that asked for him; and that he should have neither meat nor drink; who in such order continued till he was almost famished. At last, by friendship, or by what means I know not, he got a pennyworth of hard cheese, and a little broken bread, with a pint of strong beer, which brought him into such an extreme thirst, that he essayed to catch with his hat the drops of rain from the house eaves, but could not reach them.

The morrow after the ascension day, he was removed to the To wer, where he verily thought he should have been utterly famished, and therefore carried with him a little piece of his hard cheese, which his keeper, in searching him, found about him: but Mr. Brian humbly entreated him not to take it from him. Within two days after his coming to the Tower, he was brough before the lieutenant, Dr. Hammond, and Mr. Norton, who examined him after their common manner, first tendering an oath to answer to all, &c. And because he would not confess where he had seen father Parsons, how he was maintained, where he had said mass, and whose confessions he had heard, they caused needles to be thrust under his nails; whereat Mr. Brian was not moved at all, but with a constant mind and pleasant countenance, said the psalm, Miserere, desiring God to forgive his tormentors; whereat Dr. Hammond stamped and stared, as a man half beside himself, saying, what a thing is this? if a man were not settled in his religion, this were enough to convert him.

6 After this he was, even to the disjointing of his body, rent and torn upon the rack, because he would not confess where father Parsons was, where the print was, and what books he had sold, and so was returned to his lodgings for that time; yet the next day following, notwithstanding the great distemperature and soreness of his whole body, his senses being dead, and his blood congealed, he was brought to the torture again, and there stretched with greater severity than before; insomuch, that supposing with himself they would pluck him to pieces, he put on the armour of patience, resolving to die, rather than to hurt any creature living; and having his mind raised in contemplation of Chirst's bitter passion. At his racking, he swooned away, so that they were fain to sprinkle cold water on his face to revive him again; yet they released no part of his pain.

And here, Norton, because they could get nothing of him, asked him, whether the queen were supreme head of the church of England, or not? To this he said-I am a catholic, and I believe in this as a catholic should do. Why, said Norton, they say the pope is; and so say I, answered Mr. Brian. Here also the lieutenant used railing and