with me; for I shall be in heaven, singing with angels the praises of God. You ought to think it well too." Little B- B- died,

and the sermon was preached from this text.

THE MARTYR BOY.

IN the year 1544, soon after the accession of Mary" the Bloody to the throne of England, there lived in London a lad about nineteen years of age, an apprentice to a silk-weaver. His soul had been illumined by Divine grace during the controversies of the preceding reign, and he had learned to abhor the falsities of the Papal Church.

When the edict requiring the people to attend mass was published in the name of the bigoted queen, William's master ordered him to comply, and to go with him to the church. But the boy replied that he dared not, for he believed that it would be a sin against God for him to countenance such idolatries. And the master drove him from his house.

William walked to the home of his father at Bruntwood, and was kindly received, for his parents loved the boy, feared God, and abhorred Popery.

He sat one day at the door of his father's cottage, poring over a well-worn copy of Tyndale's Bible, which his father had laboured long to purchase, and his soul was feeding with joyous relish upon its precious truths, when a priest passed by the door. William, absorbed, did not observe him until he softly approached, looked over his shoulder, and saw the hated volume. The boy started and closed the book; but it was too

late. The priest uttered never a word, but scowled portentously, and walked on.

That night William Hunter was thrust into a dungeon. The next day he was taken before Justice Brown, who questioned him closely concerning his faith. William would not lie, nor would he conceal what he believed. He confessed that he was in heart and soul a Protestant, and that he dared not in conscience attend the mass. He was sent back to his dungeon. His pious father and mother visited him, and encouraged him to persevere in his good confession, even to death. "I am glad, my son," said his mother, "that God has given me such a child, who can find it in his heart to lose his life for Christ's sake."

"Mother," he replied, "for the little pain I shall suffer, which is but a short space, Christ hath promised me a crown of joy. May you not be glad of that, mother?"

Then they all kneeled together upon the hard floor of the cell, and prayed that his strength might not fail; that his faith might be victorious.

His parents, as far as they were permitted, supplied his wants and ministered to his comfort. A few of the faithful came to see him, and encouraged him to hold out faithful to the end, and prayed to God with and for him. Others of his acquaintance came and urged him to recant his opinions, to profess, or pretend, submission to the priests, and not to provoke them to deal more harshly with him. But William in his turn exhorted them to come out from the abomination of Popish superstition and idolatry. The priests, too, expostulated with him, and promised and

threatened, but all to no purpose; he would not abandon his faith in Jesus as a sufficient and only Saviour.

In a few days he was tried, and condemned to be burned to death as a heretic. They took bim back to his dungeon; and after long communion with God in prayer, he lay down and slept. He dreamed that the stake was set and the fagots piled around it, at a place that had been familiar to his boyhood, at the Archery Butts, in the suburbs of the town, and that he stood beside it prepared to die. And there came to him, in his dream, a robed priest, and offered him life if he would recant and become a faithful son of the Papal Church. But he thought that he was impelled to bid him away as a false prophet, and to exhort the people to beware of being seduced by such false doctrines.

He awoke from his dream encouraged and strengthened, believing that grace would aid him to do in reality as he had done in vision.

With the morning dawn, the sheriff came and bade him prepare for the burning. And when his father had gone, the sheriff's son approached him, and threw his arms round his neck, and wept. William," said he, "do not be afraid of these men with their bows and bills, who have come to take you to the stake."

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"I thank God," said William, "I am not afraid, for I have cast my count what it will cost me already.”

As he passed cheerfully out of the prison, he met his father. The tears were streaming down his face, and all the old man could utter, amid his choking sobs, was, "God be with thee, William, my son; God be with thee, my

son."

And William answered, "God be with thee, dear father! be of good comfort, for I hope we shall soon meet again where we shall be happy."

So they led him to the place where the stake was prepared, and he kneeled upon a fagot and read aloud from the Bible the 51st Psalm. As he read the words, "The sacrifice of God is a contrite spirit, a contrite and broken heart thou wilt not despise,”—William Tyrell, of the Bratches, interrupted him and said, "Thou liest, thou readest false; the words are a humble spirit." Nay, but the translation saith, a contrite spirit." "The translation is false," quoth Mr. Tyrell; "ye translate books as ye list yourselves, ye heretics." Well, there is no great difference in the words," said William, and continued his reading.

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"Here

Then came the sheriff and said to him, is a letter from the Queen, offering thee life if

thou wilt yet recant."

"No!" said William.

"God help me, I cannot recant."

The executioner passed a chain round his body, and fastened him to the stake.

"Good

"Pray

people, pray for me," said William. for thee!" said a priest, "I had as soon pray for a dog." 66 Well, you have that which you have sought for; I pray God it be not laid to your charge at the last day. I forgive you "Ah!" said the priest, "I ask no forgiveness from you." "Well, if God forgive you not, my blood will be required at your hands."

And then the lad raised his eyes to heaven, and prayed, "Son of God, shine upon me.' And as he spake, the sun, over which a dark cloud had floated, suddenly burst as from a veil, and beautifully illumined his countenance.

Then came the priest, whom he had seen in his dream, with a book in his hand, to urge him to recant. But the boy, whose soul was nerved to the endurance of martyrdom, waived him away, saying "Away, thou false prophet. Beware of these men, good people, and come away from their abominations, lest ye be partakers of their plagues."

"Then," said the priest, 66 as thou burnest here, so shalt thou burn in hell." But William answered, Nay, thou false prophet, I shall. reign with Jesus in heaven."