hands, by burning in effigy Sir John Borthwick, who had fled to England.

THE VICTIM AND HIS VICTOR.

In December, 1542, James V. passed to his grave from a life filled with struggles with his turbulent nobility, leaving a kingdom distracted with disorder, and a daughter, the wretched Mary, queen of Scots, then seven days old; and, in spite of a document forged by the cardinal appointing himself with others to govern the realm, James Hamilton, earl of Arran, in a meeting of nobles was appointed regent.

The cardinal's popularity was not increased by the discovery, soon after the king's death, of a list of some hundreds of persons who were to have been denounced as heretics and their property confiscated.

For a time, Arran favoured the Reformation, and in 1542 an act of Parliament declared it lawful that the Scriptures be read by all the people in their native tongue, and the holy, mighty Book was soon found in almost every person's hands, to the indignation and chagrin of the pious cardinal. But Arran, being a weak and fickle man, soon fell under the power of Beaton, who was

thus enabled to rule the realm almost as effectually as if he had been regent in name. And now, with the reins of government well in hand, he began to crack his merciless whip over the bleeding back of the Reformation.

At Perth five men and one woman were brought before him; the men were hanged and the woman drowned. The poor creature had refused to invoke the Virgin during the pains of child-birth. She first looked on while her husband was slain, exhorting him to constancy, and was then dragged to a pool, and removing her babe from her breast, passed into the cold waters, and thence to the banks of the river that flows out from the throne of God and the Lamb. Departing thence, the cardinal made a wide circuit of blood through the realm, taking with him the submissive Arran to witness and sanction his zeal for the Lord.

Tired at length in the chase after meaner game, he fixed his eye upon George Wishart, brother of the laird of Pittarow. Having been banished for teaching the Greek language, he had returned to do even a worse thing-to preach Jesus. Crowds hung on his eloquent words and melted under his fervent appeals. Mild, gentle, patient as the beloved disciple, he displayed a character of surpass

ing loveliness.

Driven from point to point, he preached now on the hillside, now by the wayside, now in the open fields. Beaton first sent a pious priest to stab him, but Wishart caught the assassin's arm and the dagger fell to the ground. Again, a cunning message came, begging him to visit a dying man, and armed men waylaid him to take him dead or alive. Then the Earl of Bothwell was sent to capture him, and the martyr was secured and lodged in the fatal sea-tower at St. Andrew's, an ancient seaport forty miles northeast from Edinburgh. The victim was at last in hand. The ceremonies of trial were soon despatched, and the regent was requested to finish up the work. He being induced to hesitate, Beaton attended to it himself. A "pile and a gallows were prepared under the windows of the castle," where the cardinal might feast his eyes on the welcome spectacle. Wishart was then led to the stake, his hands bound behind his back, a rope about his neck, a chain about his waist and bags of gunpowder fastened to various parts of his body. Lest a rescue should be attempted, the cannon of the castle were loaded and trained upon the spot of execution. At the stake, Wishart kneeled down and prayed, saying, three times, "O thou Saviour of the world,

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have mercy on me! Father of heaven, I commend my spirit into thy holy hands." His executioner asking his pardon, he kissed him, saying, 'Lo, here is a token that I forgive thee: my heart, do thine office." The trumpet sounded, the match was applied, the gunpowder exploded, and yet the victim lived. "This fire," said he, "torments my body, but no way abates my spirit." Then looking up to the cardinal, the spirit of prophecy came upon him, and he said, "He who in such state feeds upon my torments within a few days shall be hanged out at the same window, to be seen with as much ignominy as he now leaneth there in pride;" and soon after he joined the general assembly on high.

But while one may succeed in damming up a stream for a time, the ever-gathering waters will at length assert their mastery over man and sweep obstructors and obstructions together away. And the stream that Beaton was hindering flowed out from the eternal decrees of God. Hence his every victory was a defeat, his every victim a victor. A profound indignation was stirred by the murder of Wishart, and the chill of its shadows set Beaton at work upon the fortifications of his castle. But what cares destiny for mortared piles!

The night of the 28th of May, Beaton spent with his mistress, and as she left one gate in the morning the workmen entered at another, and with them five or six men, who, sauntering to the porter's lodge, inquired for Beaton. One of these was William Kirkaldy, of Grange, and with him Peter Carmichael, James Melville, John Lesley, brother to the Earl of Rothes, and Norman Lesley, son of the same. Making their way to the cardinal's apartment they found the doors closed and barricaded within.

"Open the door!" rang through the halls. "Who calls?" asked the cardinal. "Will you spare my life, if I open the door?"

"Perhaps."

Nay, swear that you will-swear by God's wounds."

"That which was said is unsaid."

Fire was now procured, and at the crackling of the flames and intrusion of the smoke a boy within opened the door, and in stalked the avengers. The wretch sank back in his chair, exclaiming :

"I am a priest-I am a priest: ye will not slay me?"

Lesley and Carmichael then each stabbed him.