At the beginning of 1533, Anne Boleyn having been married to the King of England, Fryth saw his chains fall off: he was allowed to have all he asked for, and even permitted to leave the Tower at night on parole. He took advantage of this liberty to visit the friends of the Gospel, and consult with them about what was to be done. One evening in particular, after leaving the Tower, Fryth went to Petit’s house, anxious to embrace once more that great friend of the Reformation, that firm member of parliament, who had been thrown into prison as we have seen, and at last set free. Petit, weakened by his long confinement, was near his end; the persecution agitated and pained him, and it would appear that his emotion sometimes ended in delirium. As he was groaning over the captivity of the young and noble reformer, Fryth appeared. Petit was confused, his mind wandered. Is it Fryth or his ghost? He was like the apostles, when Rhoda came to tell them that Peter was at the gate waiting to see them. But gradually recovering himself, Petit said: ‘You here! how have you escaped the vigilance of the warders?’ ‘God himself,’ answered Fryth, ‘gave me this liberty by touching their hearts.’[315] The two friends then conversed about the true Reformation of England, which in their eyes had nothing to do with the diplomatic proceedings of the king. In their opinion it was not a matter of overloading the external Church with new frippery, but ‘to increase that elect, sanctified, and invisible congregation, elect before the foundation of the world.’[316] Fryth did not conceal from Petit the conviction he felt that he would be called upon to die for the Gospel. The night was spent in such Christian conversation and the day began to dawn before the prisoner hastened to return to the Tower. The evangelist’s friends did not think as he did. Anne Boleyn’s accession seemed as if it ought to open the doors of Fryth’s prison, and in imagination they saw him at liberty, and laboring either on the continent or at home at that real reformation which is accomplished by the Scriptures of God. But it was not to be so. Most of the evangelical men raised up by God in England during the reign of Henry VIII. found—not the influence which they should have exercised, but—death. Yet their blood has weighed in the divine balance; it has sanctified the Reformation of England, and been a spiritual seed for future ages. If the Church of that rich country, which possesses such worldly splendor, has nevertheless witnessed the development of a powerful evangelical life in its bosom, it must not forget the cause, but understand, with Tertullian, that _the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church_. Footnote 288: ‘Serving for the common utility.’—Tyndale to Fryth, _Works_, iii. p. 74. Footnote 289: Foxe, _Acts_, v. p. 10. Footnote 290: Tyndale and Fryth, _Works_, iii. p. 421. Footnote 291: ‘He would never seem to strive against the papists.’—Foxe, _Acts_, v. p. 9.