⚫cious persons who stood by, and saw this fellow stooping, and tak ing somewhat out of the fire, demanded of him what he took thence? The man nimbly slipped over a park pale, and run from them, who would have laid hands on him; whereupon divers horsemen passing that way, and hearing a great number of foot cry stop, stop, stop I(as the ill custom of our nation is every man making himself an officer, and hangman rather than fail) out of officious curiosity in such cases, rid hard round the park pole, hoping at the next gate to en counter with this poor man, who was pursued by a clamorous and still encreasing company of footmen, who continually kept sight of him. The man perceiving himself so beset on all sides, and pursued, "resolved not to lose the relick, whatever became of himself, droped it, as he ran, in a bush, and took special mark upon the bush with his eye, where he left it, resolving to come another time and fetch what now he could not safely carry any farther; and this he did with such dexterity, making no stop at all, but feigning a small trip or stumble, and yet seeming suddenly to recover himself, ran on, drawing his pursuers after him, to delude them, and thereby to save the relick. In brief, this poor man recovered the skirts of the town ere he was overtaken, and there being apprehended, & was carried before officers, yet by the power of his lord was fetched off, upon security given that he should be forth coming; and so went early next morning to the place where he had dropped the relick, and found it in the handkerchief which he had wrapped it in, and in the same place where he had left it; in which circumstance it is remarkable, that the handkerchief was not burnt by any of the fiery coals or hot ashes which might hang upon the flesh when he took it out of the fire; and bringing this home to his lord, upon diligent search what it should be, they found, by incision, it was the very heart of the holy martyr, and it remained fifteen days ⚫ untainted; after which time the count, who keeps it as his greatest 'jewel, caused it to be embalmed; not that he did it to preserve it from corruption, which it seemed no way to incline to, but for reverence and religion to so rich a relick: Quia pretiosa in conspectu Domini mors sanctorum ejus.

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And it may serve for an example to all good christians, that their special devotions and duties to their particular patrons are exercises not only pleasing to God and his saints, but infinitely profitable to souls; for whereas this man of God was ever singularly devoted to St. Ann, the mother of the blessed virgin Mary, keeping her 'feast every year with more than ordinary solemnity, and this commonly in the houses of some of his penitents, virtuous women, who 'bare that name; see the high reward he received of this his devotion, that Almighty God bestowed the crown of martyrdom upon him on the feast of St. Ann, the 26th of July, 1641! as if that bles'sed saint had been ambitious to wait upon God's martyr, and put the triumphant crown upon his head with her own hands, who had so devoutly and so constantly, for many years together, on this her festival day, solemnized her praises.' So far the manuscript.

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164. *Edward Barlow, Priest, O. S. B.

EDWARD DWARD Barlow, called in religion father Ambrose, was born at Manchester in 1585, of pious and catholic parents, of the ancient family of Barlow of Barlow. His father was that constant confessor of Christ Alexander Barlow, Esq. who made it his care to give this his son a catholic and liberal education. By these means his tender mind, which had already a happy sweetness of temper, and an inclination to piety and learning, was improved, and strongly established in the true faith and the love of God. When he was twelve years old he was taken from school, to be page to a relation, a person of quality. But as he grew up, and considered the emptiness and vanity of the transitory toys of this life, and the greatness of things eternal, he took a resolution to withdraw himself from the world, and to go abroad, in order to procure those helps of virtue and learning, which might qualify him for the priesthood, and enable him to be of some assistance to his native country.

The place he made choice of for his studies was the university of Douay, which had been recommended to him by fame, and by the testimony of many learned and pious priests who had studied there. Here meeting with two other young gentlemen of equal age, and of the same inclinations, he chose them for his chamber fellows, and with them frequented the humanity schools at Anchin college, under the fathers of the society, as the alumni of the English seminary all did during Dr. Worthington's presidency. When he had finished his humanity, he was sent by the aforesaid Dr. Worthington "Aug. 23, 1610," from the English college of Douay to that of Valladolid; where he went through his course of philosophy, and part of his divinity for before he had finished the latter, he followed his brother Dr. Rudesind Barlow to Douay, where he received the habit of St. Bennet; and after making his noviceship at a house then belonging to the English congregation, near St. Malo in Little Britany, he was professed at Douay, in 1615. And being now thirty years old, and otherwise very well qualified by virtue and learning for the apostolic calling, he was presented by his superiors, not long after his profession, to the holy order of priesthood, and sent upon the English mission, to which he found himself strongly invited by an inward call.

The seat of his missionary labours was his native country of Lancashire, "where, says Mr. Knaresborough,† his memory is held in great esteem to this day, by the catholics of that county, for his great zeal in the conversion of souls, and the exemplary piety of his life and conversation." 'Tis scarce to be expressed what wonderful blessings the Almighty gave to the labours of this his faithful servant, who made it his constant business to join the care of his own soul with that of his flock, and to preach full as much by example as by

*From two manuscript relations kept by the English benedictins at Douay, one of them being a letter of his brother F. Rudesind Barlow, to the abbot & monke of Cellanova, dated January 1, 1642. + In his MSS. collections.

words. Such was the fervour of his zeal, that, as my author says, he thought the day lost in which he had not done some notable thing for the salvation of souls. Night and day he was ever ready to lay hold of all occasions of reclaiming any one from error; and whatever time he could spare from his devotions, he employed in seeking after the lost sheep, and in exhorting, instructing, and correcting sinners; and omitted no opportunity of preaching the word of God. But then he never neglected the care of his own sanctification: he celebrated mass, and recited the office with great reverence and devotion; had his fixed hours for mental prayer, which he never omitted; and found so much pleasure in this inward conversation with God, (from which he received that constant supply of heavenly light and strength) that when the time came on, which he had devoted to this holy exercise, he was affected with a sensible joy, as much as worldlings would be when going to a feast. He had also a great devotion to the rosary, which he daily recited, and recommended much to his penitents; and was very tenderly affected with the sacred mysteries of the incarnation, passion, and resurrection of the son of God (which he there contemplated) and was much devoted to his blessed mother. He often meditated on the sufferings of his redeemer, with his arms extended in the form of a cross, and these meditations enkindled in his soul a desire of suffering for Christ, a happiness for which he daily prayed.

He had a great contempt of the world, and its vanities; and a very humble opinion of himself, joined with a great esteem, love and veneration for the virtue of others. He was always afraid of honours and preferments, and had a horror of vain glory, which he used to call the worm or moth of virtues; and which he never failed to correct in others, and sometimes in a jocose way, at others seriously, according to the temper of the persons. He industriously avoided feasts and assemblies, and all meetings for merry making; as liable to dangers of excess, idle talk and detraction. He had no regard for temporal interest; and refused (though desired by many) to live in great families, where he might be well accommodated with all things; chusing rather to live in a private country-house, where the poor, to whom he had chiefly devoted his labours, might have, at all times, free access to him; to whom also he plentifully imparted both spiritual and corporal alms, according to his ability. He would never have a servant, till forced to it by sickness; never used a horse, but made his pastoral visits always on foot. His apparel was mean; neither would he ever wear a sword, or carry a watch. He allowed himself no manner of play or pastime; and avoided all superfluous talk and conversation; more especially with those of the fair sex, how virtuous or qualified soever and when the business of his calling obliged him to make any stay in such company, he kept his eyes fixed on the ground, and would not look them in the face. Being asked one day by a lady of quality, why he so much avoided the company of women, since he himself was born of a woman? He replied; for that very reason I avoid the company of women, because I was born of a woman: signifying that the corruption of concupiscence, which from our

very birth is entailed upon us by original sin, was what made him look upon himself obliged to use those precautions.

He boarded with an honest country farmer, where his diet was chiefly whitmeats and garden stuff; for he seldom eat flesh, unless by occasion of company that came to visit him. He drank only small beer, and that very sparingly; and always abstained from wine: being asked the reason why he did so? he alledged the saying of the wise man, wine and women make the wise apostatize. He was never idle, but was always either praying, studying, preaching, administering the sacraments, or (which he used sometimes to divert himself with) painting pictures of Christ or his blessed mother. He was sometimes applied to, to exorcise persons possessed by the devil, which he did with good success. He had a great talent in composing of differences, and reconciling such as were at variance; and was consulted as an oracle by the catholics of that country in all their doubts and difficulties. He feared no dangers, when God's honour and the salvation of souls called him forth; and has sometimes, when engaged in such expeditions, passed, even at noon day, through the midst of enemies, without apprehension. And when some people would desire him to be more cautious, he would turn them off with a joke; for he was usually very chearful and pleasant in conversation; so that they who knew him best, thought he was, in this regard, not unlike the celebrated Sir Thomas More. Yet he was very severe in rebuking sin, so that obstinate and impenitent sinners were afraid of coming near him. Nothing more sensibly afflicted him, than when he saw any one going astray from the right path of virtue and truth, more especially if it were a person of whom he had conceived a good opinion, or had great hopes: upon these occasions he would at first be almost oppressed with melancholy, till recollecting himself in God, and submitting to his wise providence justly permitting evil, to draw greater good out of it, he recovered again his usual peace and serenity.

Some months before his last apprehension (for he was several times a prisoner) hearing that some persons, whom he loved as his own soul, were in a resolution of doing something very wicked, which was like to be the ruin of many souls, he was so strongly on a sudden affected with it, that it flung him into a fit of the dead palsy, which took away the use of one side, and put him in danger of his life: what added very much to his cross, was, the fear lest his poor children, whom he had begotten to Christ, should now be left destitute of spiritual assistance. And whereas his convulsions and pains seemed to have brought him to death's door, he had this additional affliction, that no priest could be found to administer the holy sacraments to him. In these extremities God Almighty was pleased to comfort him; and being in a manner out of himself, he broke forth into these words: Lord, thy will be done; a due conformity of our will to thine, is to be preferred to the use of the sacraments, and even to martyrdom itself. I reverence and earnestly desire thy sacraments; ' and I have often wished to lay down my life for thee, in the profession of my faith: but if it be pleasing to thy infinite wisdom, by

this illness, to take me out of the prison of this body, half dead already, thy will be done.' Whilst he was in these dispositions, God was pleased to send him a priest of the society of Jesus to assist him; as he himself had twelve years before exercised the same charity to F. Arrowsmith in prison, before his last conflict: at which time that confessor of Christ is said to have foretold, that he should be the next to follow him. At least this is certain, by the testimony of Mr. Barlow himself, in a letter to his brother Rudesind (who quotes if in his manuscript relation) dated out of prison, May 17, 1641, that F. Arrowsmith the night before he suffered, when as yet Mr. Barlow had not heard of his suffering, came to his bedside, and told him; I have already suffered; you shall also suffer; speak but little, for they will be upon the watch to catch you in your words.

On the eves before the principal festivals of the year, whilst Mr. Barlow was in health, the catholics resorted to him from distant places, and passed the night, after the manner of the primitive church, in watching, prayer, and spiritual colloquies; whilst for his part he was employed almost all the night in hearing confessions. On the next day he treated them all with a dinner, where he, and some of the more honourable sort of his flock, served them that were poor, and waited upon them, and then dined off their leavings. When he sent them home, he gave each of them a groat in alms; and when all had dined, he distributed what remained to the poor of the parish. His zeal had made him as well known in all that neighbourhood, as the very parson of the parish. Some reprehended him for going about so publicly; to whom he replied, Let them fear that have any thing to lose, which they are unwilling to part with; which was not his case, who had set his heart upon nothing in this world; and was even desirous to lay down his life for God's cause. He could not be persuaded by his friends to retire farther off from danger, to a house of a kinsman of his in Cheshire; being desirous, if it pleased God, to shed his blood at Lancaster.

He was beginning to recover of his illness, but was as yet very weak, when he was apprehended, on Easter-day 1641, in the following manner, according to the account which he himself sent out of prison to his brother Rudesind. A neighbouring minister, who had with him at church a numerous congregation, instead of entertaining them on that solemn day with a sermon and prayers, as usual, proposed to them as a work more worthy their zeal for the gospel, to go along with him to apprehend Barlow, that noted popish priest, whom they would now be sure to find in the midst of his flock; whereas were they to stay till church-time was over, they would miss the opportunity. They relished the proposition, and being about 400 in number, armed with clubs and swords, followed the parson, marching in front in his surplice, to the house, where Mr. Barlow having finished mass, was making an exhortation to his people, about 100 in number, on the subject of patience. The catholics that were within, as soon as they perceived the house was besieged, would have persuaded the man of God to hide himself, there being more than one private place for that purpose in the house, but he would by no means consent