The King's Daughters

by Emily Sarah Holt

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

  AT THE BAR.

  The great hall of the Moot Hall in Colchester was filling rapidly.Every townsman, and every townswoman, wanted to hear the examination,and to know the fate of the prisoners--of whom there were so many thatnot many houses were left in Colchester where the owners had not somefamily connection or friend among them. Into the hall, robed injudicial ermine, filed the Royal Commissioners, Sir John Kingston, andDr Chedsey, followed by Boswell, the scribe, Robert Maynard and RobertBrown the Sheriffs, several priests, and many magistrates and gentlemenof the surrounding country. Having opened the Court, they firstsummoned before them William Bongeor, the glazier, of Saint Michael'sparish, aged sixty, then Thomas Benold, the tallow-chandler, andthirdly, Robert Purcas. They asked Purcas "what he had to say touchingthe Sacrament."

  "When we receive the Sacrament," he answered, "we receive bread in anholy use, that preacheth remembrance that Christ died for us."

  The three men were condemned to death: and then Agnes Silverside wasbrought to the bar. She was some time under examination, for sheanswered all the questions asked her so wisely and so firmly, that theCommissioners themselves were disconcerted. They took refuge, as suchmen usually did, in abuse, calling her ugly names, and asking "if shewished to burn her rotten old bones?"

  Helen Ewring, the miller's wife, followed: and both were condemned.

  Then the last of the Moot Hall prisoners, Elizabeth Foulkes, was placedat the bar.

  "Dost thou believe," inquired Dr Chedsey, "that in the most holySacrament of the altar, the body and blood of Christ is really andsubstantially present?"

  Elizabeth's reply, in her quiet, clear voice, was audible in every partof the hall.

  "I believe it to be a substantial lie, and a real lie."

  "Shame! shame!" cried one of the priests on the bench.

  "Horrible blasphemy!" cried another.

  "What is it, then, that there is before consecration?" asked DrChedsey.

  "Bread."

  "Well said. And what is there after consecration?"

  "Bread, still."

  "Nothing more?"

  "Nothing more," said Elizabeth firmly. "The receiving of Christ liesnot in the bread, but is heavenly and spiritual only."

  "What say you to confession?"

  "I will use none, seeing no priest hath power to remit sin."

  "Will you go to mass?"

  "I will not, for it is idolatry."

  "Will you submit to the authority of the Pope?"

  Elizabeth's answer was even stronger than before.

  "I do utterly detest all such trumpery from the bottom of my heart!"

  They asked her no more. Dr Chedsey, for the sixth and last time,assumed the black cap, and read the sentence of death.

  "Thou shalt be taken from here to the place whence thou earnest, andthence to the place of execution, there to be burned in the fire tillthou art dead."

  Never before had Chedsey's voice been known to falter in pronouncingthat sentence. He had spoken it to white-haired men, and delicatewomen, ay, even to little children; but this once, every spectatorlooked up in amazement at his tone, and saw the judge in tears. Andthen, turning to the prisoner, they saw her face "as it were the face ofan angel."

  Before any one could recover from the sudden hush of awe which hadfallen upon the Court, Elizabeth Foulkes knelt down, and carried herappeal from that unjust sentence to the higher bar of God Almighty.

  "O Lord our Father!" she said, "I thank and praise and glorify Thee thatI was ever born to see this day--this most blessed and happy day, whenThou hast accounted me worthy to suffer for the testimony of Christ.And, Lord, if it be Thy will, forgive them that thus have done againstme, for they know not what they do."

  How many of us would be likely to thank God for allowing us to bemartyrs? These were true martyrs who did so, men and women so full ofthe Holy Ghost that they counted not their lives dear unto them,--soupheld by God's power that the shrinking of the flesh from that dreadfulpain and horror was almost forgotten. We must always remember that itwas not by their own strength, or their own goodness, but by the bloodof the Lamb, that Christ's martyrs have triumphed over Death and Satan.

  Then Elizabeth rose from her knees, and turned towards the Bench. Likean inspired prophetess she spoke--this poor, simple, humble servant-girlof twenty years--astonishing all who heard her.

  "Repent, all ye that sit there!" she cried earnestly, "and especially yethat brought me to this prison: above all thou, Robert Maynard, that artso careless of human life that thou wilt oft sit sleeping on the benchwhen a man is tried for his life. Repent, O ye halting Gospellers! andbeware of blood-guiltiness, for that shall call for vengeance. Yea, ifye will not herein repent your wicked doings,"--and as Elizabeth spoke,she laid her hand upon the bar--"this very bar shall be witness againstyou in the Day of Judgment, that ye have this day shed innocent blood!"

  Oh, how England needs such a prophetess now! and above all, those"halting Gospellers," the men who talk sweetly about charity andtoleration, and sit still, and will not come to the help of the Lordagainst the mighty! They sorely want reminding that Christ has said,"He that is not with us is against us." It is a very poor excuse tosay, "Oh, I am not doing any harm." Are you doing any good? That isthe question. If not, a wooden post is as good as you are. And are yousatisfied to be no better than a wooden post?

  What grand opportunities there are before boys and girls on thethreshold of life! What are you going to do with your life? Remember,you have only one. And there are only two things you can do with it.You must give it to somebody--and it must be either God or Satan. Allthe lives that are not given to God fall into the hands of Satan. Thereare very few people who say to themselves deliberately, Now, I will notgive my life to God. They only say, Oh, there's plenty of time; I won'tdo it just now; I want to enjoy myself. They don't know that there isno happiness on earth like that of deciding for God. And so they go onday after day, not deciding either way, but just frittering their livesaway bit by bit, until the last day comes, and the last bit of life, andthen it is too late to decide. Would you like such a poor, mean,valueless thing as this to be the one life which is all you have? Wouldyou not rather have a bright, rich, full life, with God Himself for yourbest friend on earth, and then a triumphal entry into the Golden City,and the singer's harp, and the victor's palm, and the prince's crown,and the King's "Well done, good and faithful servant?"

  Do you say, Yes. I would choose that, but I do not know how? Well,then, tell the Lord that. Say to Him, "Lord, I want to be Thy friendand servant, and I do not know how." Keep on saying it till He showsyou how. He is sure to do it, for He cares about it much more than youdo. Never fancy for one minute that God does not want you to go toHeaven, and that it will be hard work to persuade Him to let you in. Hewants you to come more than you want it. He gave His own Son that youmight come. "Greater love hath no man than this."

  Now, will you not come to Him--will you not say to Him, "Lord, here amI; take me"? Are you going to let the Lord Jesus feel that all thecruel suffering which He bore for you was in vain? He is ready to saveyou, if you will let Him; but He will not do it against your will. Howshall it be?