WE should never tire of reading how the faithful witnesses of Christ followed Him to death and sealed their testimony with their life blood. Two of England’s noblest witnesses were Bishops Ridley and Latimer who were burned at the stake during the reign of Bloody Mary. When they met on the way to the stake they embraced each other and then knelt and prayed together. Ridley requested permission to speak. He was told that permission would be given him provided he recanted. “So long as the breath is in my body,” came the answer, “I will never deny my Lord Jesus Christ and His truth. God’s will be done in me. I commit our cause to Almighty God, who shall indifferently [impartially] judge all.” Both the witnesses then prepared for death. Ridley offered up prayer: “Oh, heavenly Father, I give unto thee most humble thanks for that thou hast called me to be a professor of thee even unto death. Have mercy, O Lord, on this realm of England, and deliver the same from all her enemies.” A chain was passed round their bodies, and fastened with a staple. A friend brought a bag of powder and hung it round Ridley’s neck. “I will take it to be sent of God,” Ridley said. “Have you any more for my brother?” “Yes, sir,” the friend answered. “Give it to him betimes, then,” Ridley replied, “lest it be too late.” The fire was then brought. The lighted torch was laid to the faggots. “Be of good comfort Master Ridley,” Latimer said. “Play the man; we shall this day light such a candle, by God’s grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out.” “In manus tuas, Domine, commendo spiritum meum.”* “O Father of heaven,” said Latimer on the other side, “receive my soul.” Latimer died first. As the flame blazed up about him he bathed his hands in it and stroked his face. The powder exploded, and he became instantly senseless. Ridley was less fortunate. The sticks had been piled too thickly over the gorse that was under them; the fire smouldered round his legs, and the sensation of suffering was unusually protracted. “I cannot burn,” he called, “Lord have mercy on me; let the fire come to me: I cannot burn.” His brother-in-law, with awkward kindness, threw on more wood, which only kept down the flame. At last some one lifted the pile with a “bill,” and let in the air; the red tongues of fire shot up fiercely, Ridley wrested himself into the middle of them, and the powder did its work. It was men such as these who bought for us our priceless liberties. It cost them agony and excruciating pain which we are too ready to forget when enjoying the blessings purchased at so great a cost.
*”Into thy hand, O Lord, I commit my spirit.”