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been seen by his soldiers, times without number, as they are all ready to testify; and, in every other respect, has always behaved like a gentleman and an officer; and, on all the above-mentioned accounts, I hold him most worthy and deserving of the rank of aggregate major to our regiment, and of every other honour, grace, or favour, her majesty shall be graciously pleased to bestow on him. In testimony whereof I have hereto signed my name, this 25th day of March, of the year of our Lord Jesus Christ 1777. MAGALHAENS HOMEM."

L. S.

SECRETS OF CABALISM.

On the evening of the 29th of June, 1555, in one of the narrow streets near the Poultry compter, in London, a dark square-built ruffian, in a thrum cap and leathern jerkin, suddenly sprung forth from his hiding-place, and struck his dagger with all his force against the breast of a man passing by. "By my holidam," said the man, "that would have craved no thanks if my coat-hardy had been thinner--but thou shalt have a jape* for thy leman to know thee by," and flourishing a short gisarme, or double-pointed weapon in his left hand, with his right, on which he seemed to wear an iron glove, he stamped a sufficient mark on the assassin's face, and vanished in a moment.

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Why, thou Lozel!" said another ruffian, starting from beneath a pent-house, " wast playing at barleybreak with a wooden knife? Thou wilt hardly earn twenty pounds this bout."

"A plague on his cloak, Coniers!-he must have had a gambason under it.-Thou mayest earn the coin thyself;-thou hast gotten a gold ring and twentyshillings in part payment."

"Get thee gone to thy needle and baudekin again, like a woman's tailor as thou art! Thou hast struck a

* A fool's mark.

wrong man, and he has taken away thy nose that he may swear to the right one.-That last quart of huff-cap made froth of thy brains."

"My basilard is sharp enough for thee, I warrant," muttered his disappointed companion, as he drew his tough hyke or cloak over his bruises, and slunk into à darker alley. Meanwhile, the subject of their discourse and of their villany strode with increased haste towards the Compter prison, and inquired for the condemned prisoner, John Bradford. The keeper knew bishop Gardiner's secretary, and admitted him without hesitation, hoping that he brought terms of grace to the pious man, whose meek demeanour in the prison had won love from all about him. The secretary found him on his knees, as his custom was, eating his spare meal in that humble posture, and meditating with his hat drawn over his face. He rose to receive his visitor, and his tall slender person, held gracefully erect, aided a countenance which derived from a faint bloom and a beard of rich brown, an expression of youthful beauty such as a painter would not have deemed unworthy the great giver of the creed for which he suffered*. Gardiner's secretary uncovered his head, and bending it humbly, kissed his hand with tears. "Be of good comfort, brother," said Bradford," I have done nothing in this realm except in godly quietness, unless at Paul's Cross, where I bestirred myself to save him who is now bishop of Bath, when his rash sermon provoked the multitude.

"Ali, Bradford! Bradford!" replied his visitor, "thou didst save him who will burn thee. Had it not been for thee, I had run him through with my sword that day!"-Bradford started back, and looked earnestly,— I know thy voice now,-and I remember that voice said those same words in my ear when the turmoil was at Paul's Cross.-For what comest thou now? A man of blood is no fit company for a sinner going to die."

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Some account of this extraordinary man may be found in Middleton's Biographia Evangelica.

"Not while I live, my most dear tutor,-I am Rufford of Edlesburgh."

The old man threw his arms round his neck, and hung on it for an instant :-" It is twelve years since I saw thee, and my heart grieved when I heard a voice like thine in the fierce riot at Paul's Cross.-Art thou here bodily, or do I only dream?-There is rumour abroad, that thy old enemy, Coniers, slew thee at Huntingdon last year."

"He meant well, John Bradford; but I had a thick quilted pourpoint and a tough leathern cap:-I have met his minions more than once, and they know what print my hand leaves.-Enough of this.-I am not in England now as Giles Rufford; I shall do thee better service as what I seem."

"Seeming never was good service," said the divine : "what hast thou to do with me, who am in God's hands?"

"He makes medicines of asps and vipers," answered his pupil," I shall serve him if I save his minister, though it be by subtlety. I have crept into Gardiner's favour by my skill in strange tongues and Hebrew secrets, therefore I am now his secretary: and I have an ally in the very chamber of our queenmistress."

"That woman is not unwise or unmerciful," replied Bradford," in things that touch not her faith; but I will be helped by no unfair practice on her. Mercy with God's mercy will be welcome; but I am readier to die than to be his forsworn servant."

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Master, there can be no evil in gathering the fruit Providence has ripened for us. Gardiner was Wolsey's disciple once, and hath more heathen learning in him than Catholic zeal. There is a leaven left of his old studies which will work us good. He believes in the cabalism of the Jews, and reads strange books from

*Raimond Lully derives this word from the Arabic, and interprets it "superabundant science." His commentator Cornelius Agrippa goes great lengths into it.

Padua and Antwerp, which tell him of lucky and unlucky days. He shall be made to think to-morrow full of evil omens, and his superstition shall shake his cruelty."

"Thou art but a green youth still," rejoined Bradford, "if thou knowest not that cruelty is superstition's child. Take heed that his heathenish witchcraft doth not shake both thy wit and thy safety. For though I sleep but little, and have few dreams of earthly things, there came, as I think, a vision raised by no holy art, into my prison last night. And it had such a touch of heaven's beauty in its face, and such rare music in its voice, that it well nigh tempted me to believe its promise. But I remembered my frailty, and was safe.”

The secretary's eyes shone brightly, and half a smile opened his lips. But he lowered both his eyes and voice as he replied, "What did this fair vision pro

mise?"

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Safety and release, if I would trust her, and be pledged to obey her."-There was a long pause before the young man spoke again.-"Do you not remember, my foster-father, the wild laurel tree that grew near my birth-place? An astrologer at Pisa told me it should not wither till the day of my death.-And it seems to me, when I have walked under its shade, that the leaves made strange music, as if a spirit had touched them. It is greener and richer than its neighbours, and the fountain that flows near its root has, as men believe, a rare power of healing. The dreams that visit me when I sleep near it are always the visitings of a courteous and lovely spirit. What if the legends of Greece and Syria speak truth? May we not both have guardian spirits that choose earthly shapes?"

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My son," replied Bradford, "these thoughts are the diamond-drops that lie on the young roses of life.— But the Sun of Truth and Reason should disperse them. Man has one guardian, and he needs no more unless he forgets that One. Thou wast called in thy youth the silken pleader, because thy words were like soft threads spun into a rich tissue. Be wary lest they entangle thee, and become a snare instead of a banner fit to

guide Christians.—I am a blighted tree marked for the fire, and thou canst not save me by searing the freshness thy young laurel for my sake.'

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I will shame the astrologer to-morrow," said his pupil ; "and therefore I must make this hour brief. She who rules the queen's secrets has had a bribe to make Mary merciful. There is hope of a birth at court, and death ought not to be busy. Fare ye well! but do not distrust that fair apparition if it should open these prison-doors to-morrow."-So saying, the young man departed without heeding Bradford's monitory gesture.

Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester and high chancellor by Queen Mary's favour, sat that night alone and thoughtful in his closet. He had been the chief commissioner appointed to preside at Bradford's trial; and though he had eagerly urged his colleagues to condemn him, he secretly abhorred the time-serving cruelty of bishop Bonner and the cowardice of Bourne, who had not dared to save the life of the benefactor he had once begged to save his own. "You have tarried late," said Gardiner, as his secretary entered-"the stars are waning, and their intelligence will be imperfect.'

"I traced it before midnight," replied the secretary, "but I needed the help of your lordship's science.'

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"It is strange," said his patron, leaning thoughtfully on one of Roger Bacon's volumes," that men in every age and climate, and of every creed, have this appetite for an useless knowledge; and it would be stranger, if both profane and sacred history did not show us that such knowledge hath been sometimes granted, though in vain. What is that paper in thy hand?"

"It is a clumsy calculation, my lord, of this night's aspect. I learned in Araby, as your lordship knows, some small guesses at Chaldean astrology; but I deem the characters and engraved signs of the Hermetic men* more powerful in arresting the intelligent bodies

• Hermes Trismegistus, founder of this sect in Egypt, is said to have lived in the year 2076, in the reign of Ninus after Moses. The

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