For his contumacy, he had been under Laud shockingly mutilated on the pillory, and he was worn with imprisonment. There was something preternatural in his vitality and industry-" a ghoul-like creature with a scarred and mutilated face, his twice cropped ears hidden under a woolen cowl or night cap, lonely among hist books and papers at Lincolns' Inn, having no regular meals, but now and then munching bread and taking ale. He wrote two hundred and fifty books and pamphlets that were to form the long ink track of his total life."

His associate was John Lilburne, and they croaked eternally together. Both had suffered at the hands of Laud unspeakable horrors, but Prynne was implacable and kept his eye on Laud like that of a basilik. Masson says, "Among all the sectards to which the seventeenth century gave birth, John Lilburne was the most untameable and utterly pugnacious." Henry Marten said "if only John Lilburne were left in the world then John would quarrel with Lilburne and Lilburne with John. Desperately honest and earnest, utterly impracticable, heroically intrepid, obstinate to the last degree, his almost unceasing vociferations through the whole time of the Civil War are discord thrice over among all discord.”

When scarcely more than a boy he had been whipped at the cart's tail by the command of the Star Chamber, then pilloried. While on the pillory he had harangued and distributed

tracts until gagged and bound; then he stamped with his feet. His brother became later one of Cromwell's favorite officers; still another brother had died on the field among the Ironsides. John himself had fought his way up to be lieutenant colonel of dragoons at Marston Moor, where he was very brave. Cromwell urged him to take a command in the new model, but he preferred a position outside of everything, a sleepless, implacable fanatic.

Laud's cruelty and ferocity engendered a hatred among all classes of society, and when the time came for him to give an account of his stewardship he found himself without a friend to aid or assist him.

Prynne took note of every act of his life, and followed him with the scent of a sleuth hound, and never left him until his head rolled from the block.

St. Catherine Cree was an old church and stood through many generations. It was repaired in 1628, and used for a while, but as soon as Laud found this out he interdicted its use until he consecrated it anew. He appointed the 16th of January, 1620, to perform that service.

Prynne, with his slit nose, was on hand and took note of all that he did, and it was Prynne's evidence, at least his version of what took place, substantiated by other evidence, that contributed largely, as we have said, to the destruction of Laud. Prynne says, "when the bishop approached near the communion table, he bowed his nose very near the ground some six or

seven times; then to the second, third and fourth corners, bowing at each corner three times, but when he came to the side of the table where the bread and wine was, he bowed himself seven times; and then after the reading of many prayers by himself and his two fat chaplains (which were with him. and all this while were upon their knees by him in their surplices, hoods and tippets) he himself came near the bread, which was cut and laid in a fine napkin, and then he gently lifted up one of the corners of the said napkin, peeping into it till he saw the bread (like a boy that peeped into a bird's nest in a bush) and presently clapped it down again and flew back a step or two, and then bowed very low three times toward it and the table. When he beheld the bread then he came near and opened the napkin and bowed as before; then he laid his hand upon the gilt cup, which was full of wine with a cover upon it; so soon as he pulled the cup a little nearer to him, he let the cup go, flew back and bowed again three times toward it; then he came near again and, lifting up the cover of the cup, peeped into it; and seeing the wine. he let fall the cover on it again and flew nimbly back and bowed as before. After these and many other apish antics and gestures, he himself received and then gave the sacrament to some principal men only, they devoutly kneeling near the table; after which, more prayers being said, this scene and interlude ended.

It is seldom that the consecration ceremonies of a church ever resulted in death, but in this case Prynne's description of them in the House of Commons on the day of Laud's peril were sufficient to procure his conviction, and he died on the scaffold.

It is no wonder that after the lapse of over two hundred years it should be thought necessary to dispel the gloom that surrounds this church by annually dressing it with flowers and filling it with the odor of sanctity from heaven rather than relying upon the "antics" of such a martinet as Laud.

The church building itself displays a strange mixture of Gothic and Greek architecture, and is quite picturesque. The cast window is square headed; Corinthian columns support a clerestory, and the groined ceiling is coarse and ugly. The chief monument in this church is to Nicholas Throgmorton, the father-in-law of Sir Walter Raleigh, who in Mary's time defended himself against a false accusation of treason with such amazing skill and ability as to have almost immortalized him in the State Trials.

There is no place to study English history like that of a churchyard, and right here is an example. Let us devote a few minutes to a consideration of the life of this great man who takes us back to the days of Bloody Mary, to Elizabeth, to Raleigh, Lord Buleigh and Bacon. We are indebted to the State Trials "which contain the most frightful record of baseness and de

pravity that is extant in the world" for a true account of his most wonderful defense and "fight for his life."

Sir Nicholas Throckmorten was the son of a Papist who had refused to take the oath of supremacy, and had been imprisoned in the Tower of Henry VIII. Nicholas, his son, a Protestant, appointed server to the burly tyrant, had fought by the King's side in France. During the reign of Edward VI. Throckmorten distinguished himself at the battle of Pinkie, and was knighted by the young king, who made him Under-Treasurer of the mint. At Edward's death Throckmorten sent Mary's goldsmith to inform her of her accession. Though no doubt firmly attached to Princess Elizabeth, Throckmorten took no public part in the Wyatt rebellion; yet, six days after his friend Wyatt's execution, Throckmorton was tried for conspiracy to kill the queen.

The trial itself is so interesting as a specimen of intellectual energy, that we subjoin a scene or two :—

Sergeant Stamford-Methinks that things which others have confessed, together with your own confession, will weigh shrewdly. But what have you to say as to the rising in Kent, and Wyatt's attempt against the Queen's royal person iu her palace?

Chief Justice Bromley-Why do you not read to him Wyatt's accusation, which makes him a sharer in his treason?

Sir R. Southwell-Wyatt has grievously accused you, and in many things

which have been confirmed by others. Sir N. Throckmorton Whatever Wyatt said of me in hopes to save his life, he unsaid it at his death; for, since I came into the hall, I heard one say, whom I do not know, that Wyatt on the scaffold cleared not only the Lady Elizabeth and the Earl of Devonshire, but also all the gentlemen in the Tower, saying none of them knew anything of his commotion, of which number I take myself to be one.

Sir N. Hare-Nevertheless, he said that all he had written and confessed before the Council was true.

Sir N. Throckmorton-Nay, sir, by your patience, Wyatt did not say so; that was Master Doctor's addition.

Sir R. Southwell-It seems you have good intelligence..

Sir N. Throckmorton-Almighty God provided this revelation for me this very day, since I came hither; for I have been in close prison for eight and fifty days, where I could hear nothing but what the birds told me who flew over my head.

Sergeant Stamford told him the judges did not sit there to make disputations, but to declare the law; and one of those judges (Hare) having confirmed the observation by telling Throckmorton he had heard both the law and the reason, if he could but understand it, he cried out passionately: "O merciful God! O eternal Father! who seest all things, what manner of proceedings are these? To what purpose was the Statute of Repeal made in the last Parliament,

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where I heard some of you here present, and several others of the Queen's learned counsels grievously inveigh against the cruel and bloody laws of Henry VIII., and some laws made in the late King's time? Some termed them Draco's laws, which were written in blood; others said they were more intolerable than any laws made by Dionysius or any other tyrant. In a word, as many men, so many bitter names and terms those laws. Let us now but look with impartial eyes, and consider thoroughly with ourselves, whether you, as the judges, handle the statute of Edward III. with your equity and constructions, we are not now in a much worse condition than when we were yoked with those cruel laws. Those laws, grievous and captious as they were, yet had a very property of laws, according to St. Paul's description, for they admonished us, and discovered our sins plainly to us; and when a man is warned he is half armed; but these laws, as they are handled, are very baits to catch us, and only prepared for that purpose. They are no laws at all, for at first sight they assure us that we are delivered from our old bondage, and live in more security; but when it pleases the higher powers to call any man's life and sayings in question, then there are such constructions, interpretations, and extensions reserved to the judges and their equity, that the party tried, as I am now, will find himself in a much worse case than when those cruel laws were in force. But I re

quire you, honest men, who are to try my life, to consider these things. It is clear these judges are inclined rather to the times than to the truth, for their judgments are repugnant to the law, repugnant to their own principles and repugnant to the opinions of their godly and learned predecessors." It is a source of great rejoicing to us to say that in spite of all the efforts of his enemies, this gentleman escaped the scaffold, and lived to enjoy happier times.

Here in this church lies buried the famous Hans Holbein, who was born at Bazil, Switzerland, and who painted "Our Saviour's Passion, "the Dance of the Peasants" and "Dance of Death," and many other quaint and curious paintings that are known the world over.

He was a contemporary of Erasmus, who was a great admirer of his talents. He was persuaded by a friend to leave Switzerland for the court of Henry VIII. In his journey he stopped some days at Strasburg where he solicited employment, but he was refused unless he could demonstrate his ability to draw and paint. He accordingly finished a piece with great care, and painted a fly on the most conspicuous part of it, after which he withdrew privily in the absence of his master, and pursued his journey. When the painter returned home, he was astonished at the beauty and elegance of the drawing, and especially at the fly, which upon his first casting his eye upon it, he so far took for a

real fly, that he endeavored to remove it with his hand. He sent all over the city for his journeyman who was now missing; but after many inquiries found that he had been thus deceived by the famous Holbein. After almost begging his way to England, he found an easy admittance to the Lord Chancellor, Sir Thomas More, having brought with him Erasmus' picture and letters recommendatory from him. to that great man. Sir Thomas received him with joy, and kept him in his house for two or three years, during which he drew Sir Thomas picture, and many of his friends. and relations.

He was employed by Henry VIII., who became his patron, and he painted his portrait and that of Henry VII., Anne of Cleves, and many others of the royal blood.

One anecdote is told of Holbein which is very interesting.

After he had become the protege of Henry VIII., a nobleman of the first quality wanted one day to see him. when he was drawing a figure from life. Holbein begged his lordship to defer the honor of his visit to another

Hol

day, which the nobleman taking for an affront, came and broke open the door and rudely went up-stairs. bein hearing a noise left his chamber, and meeting the lord at his door, fell into a violent passion and pushed him backwards, from the top of the stairs. to the bottom. Considering, however, immediately after, what he had done, he escaped from the tumult he had raised and made the best of his way to the King. The nobleman, much hurt, though not so much as he pretended, was there soon after him; and upon opening his grievance, the King ordered Holbein to ask pardon for his offc:ce. But this only irritated the nobleman the more, who would not be satisfied with less than his life, upon which the King sternly replied: "My lord, you have not now to do with Holbein, but with me; whatever punishment you may contrive by way of revenge against him shall assuredly be inflicted upon yourself; remember, pray my lord, that I can, whenever I please, make seven lords of seven ploughmen, but I cannot make one Holbein even of seven lords."

ELLIOT ANTHONY.