The Eighth Book: 1664-1667

The Eighth Book: 1664-1667

1664.

In the foregoing year we left G. Fox in Lancaster prison, where at the sessions, the oath of allegiance being tendered to, and refused by him, he was brought to his trial in the month called March, which begins the year 1664. Being brought to the bar before judge Twisden, he said, ‘Peace be amongst you all.’ At which the judge looking upon him, said, ‘What! do you come into the court with your hat on?’ Whereupon the jailer taking it off, G. Fox said, ‘The hat is not the honour that comes from God.’ Then said the judge, ‘Will you take the oath of allegiance?’ G. Fox answered, ‘I never took any oath in my life.’ ‘Well,’ said the judge, ‘will you swear or no?’ G. Fox replied, ‘I am a Christian, and Christ commands me not to swear; and so doth the apostle James likewise; and whether I should obey God or man, do thou judge.’ ‘I ask you again,’ said the judge, ‘whether you will swear or no?’ To which he made answer, ‘I am neither Turk, Jew, nor Heathen, but a Christian, and should show forth Christianity. Dost thou not know, (thus he went on,) that Christians in the primitive times, under the ten persecutions, and some also of the martyrs in queen Mary’s days, refused swearing, because Christ and the apostle had forbidden it? Ye have experience enough, how many men have sworn first to the king, and then against him. But as for me, I have never taken an oath in all my life; and my allegiance doth not lie in swearing, but in truth and faithfulness: for I honour all men, much more the king. But Christ, who is the great Prophet, who is the King of kings, the Saviour of the world, and the great Judge of the whole world, he saith, I must not swear. Now the point is, whether I must obey Christ, or thee. For it is in tenderness of conscience, and in obedience to the command of Christ, that I do not swear. And we have the word of a king for tender consciences.’ G. Fox having spoken thus much, asked the judge, if he did own the king? To which he said, ‘Yes, I do own the king.’ ‘Why then,’ said he, ‘dost thou not observe his declaration from Breda, and his promises made since he came into England, that no man should be called in question for matters of religion, so long as they lived peaceably? Now if thou ownest the king, why dost thou call me into question, and put me upon taking an oath, seeing thou, nor none, can charge me with unpeaceable living?’ The judge looking angry, said, ‘Sirrah, will you swear?’ To which G. Fox told him, ‘I am none of thy sirrahs; I am a Christian; and for thee, who art an old man and a judge, to sit there and give nicknames to the prisoners, doth not become either thy grey hairs or thy office.’ The judge being a little more cool, after some words to and fro, said, ‘G. Fox, say whether thou wilt take the oath, yea, or nay?’ To which he replied, ‘If I could take any oath at all, I should take this: for I do not deny some oaths only, or on some occasions, but all oaths, according to Christ’s doctrine, who said, “Swear not at all.” Now if thou, or any of you, or any of your ministers or priests here, will prove that ever Christ or his apostle, after they had forbidden all swearing, commanded Christians to swear, then I will swear.’ None of the priests offering to speak, the judge said, ‘I am a servant to the king, and the king sent me not to dispute with you, but to put the laws in execution; and therefore I tender the oath of allegiance.’ G. Fox continuing to refuse swearing, was sent again to prison. Two days after, being brought again before the judge, it was asked him, whether he would traverse or submit? To which G. Fox said, he desired he might have liberty to traverse the indictment, and try it. Then order was given to take him away, and he was kept in prison till the next assizes.

Being prisoner in Lancaster castle, there was much talk of the Turk’s great progress in Hungary, there being at that time a war between the Emperor and the Turks; and many being afraid, he said to some, that walking once in his chamber, he saw the Lord’s power turn against the Turk, and that he was turning back again. And within a month after news came that he was defeated. Another time, as he was walking in the room, with his mind upon the Lord, he saw an extraordinary great light, and looking up, he beheld an angel of the Lord, with a glittering sword stretched southward, which shone so bright, as if the court had been all on fire. Of which I have for proof what he mentions of it in his journal, and also another small book he gave out with the title of a Warning to England. Not long after a war broke out between England and Holland, and some time after the pestilence appeared at London, (which lies southwardly from Lancaster,) and after two years that city by the fire was turned into rubbish.

But I return to the Lancaster assizes. Margaret Fell, who was now a widow, was also under confinement for refusing the oath of allegiance. And G. Fox being in prison, wrote several papers to the magistrates, in which he manifested the evil of persecution, and exhorted to virtue and piety.

In the month called August, the assizes were held again at Lancaster. G. Fox being brought thither, (judge Turner then sitting on the crown-bench,) and being called to the bar, the judge asked the justices, whether they had tendered him the oath at the foregoing sessions? They saying they had, and having sworn it, the jury were sworn too. Then the judge asked him, whether he had not refused the oath at the last assizes? To which he answered, ‘I never took an oath in my life; and Christ the Saviour and Judge of the world said, “Swear not at all.” The judge seeming not to take notice of this answer, asked him whether or no he had not refused to take the oath at the last assizes? G. Fox maintaining the unlawfulness of swearing, the judge said, he was not at that time to dispute whether it was lawful to swear, but to inquire whether he had refused to take the oath, or no. G. Fox then signifying that he did not disapprove the things mentioned in the oath, said, ’Plotting against the king, and owning the Pope’s, or any other foreign power, I utterly deny.’ ‘Well,’ said the judge, ‘you say well in that: but did you deny to take the oath; what say you.’ ‘What wouldest thou have me to say?’ replied he, ‘I have told thee before what I did say.’ After some more words from both sides, the indictment was read. G. Fox having informed himself of the errors that were in it, said, he had something to speak to it, for there were many gross errors in it. The judge signified that he would not hear him, but when he was at the point of giving judgment, the jury going out, soon returned, and brought him in guilty. Whereupon he told them, that both the justices and they too had forsworn themselves; which caused such confusion in the court, that the pronouncing judgment was delayed. Margaret Fell being next brought to the bar, was also declared guilty.

The next day she and G. Fox were brought up again to receive sentence. Her counsel pleading many errors in her indictment, she was set by; and G. Fox then being called, showed himself unwilling to let any man plead for him; which seemed to make some stop; yet he was asked by the judge, what he had to say, why he should not pass sentence upon him. At which he told him, ‘I am no lawyer, but yet I have much to say, if thou wilt but have patience to hear?’ Thereupon those on the bench laughed, and said, ‘Come what have you to say?’ Then he asked the judge whether the oath was to be tendered to the king’s subjects, or to the subjects of foreign princes. To which the judge said, ‘To the subjects of this realm.’ ‘Then,’ said George, ‘look on the indictment, and ye may see that ye have left out the word subject: and not having named me in the indictment as a subject, ye cannot premunire me for not taking the oath.’ They then looking to the statute, and the indictment, saw that it was as he said, and the judge confessed that it was an error. Next G. F. told him, he had something else to stop judgment; and he desired them to look what day the indictment said the oath was tendered to him at the sessions there? They looking, said it was the eleventh of January. Then he asked, ‘What day of the week was that sessions held on?’ ‘On a Tuesday,’ said they. To which G. F. said, ‘Look in your almanac, and see whether there was any session held at Lancaster on the eleventh of January.’ They looking, found that the eleventh day was the day called Monday, and that the sessions were on the day called Tuesday, which was the twelfth day of the said month: ‘Look ye now,’ said he, ‘ye have indicted me for refusing the oath in the quarter-sessions held at Lancaster on the eleventh day of January last, and the justices have sworn that they tendered me the oath in open sessions here that day, and the jury upon their oath have found me guilty thereupon; and yet ye see there was no sessions held at Lancaster that day.’ The judge, to cover the matter, asked, whether the sessions did not begin on the eleventh day? To which some in the court answered, ‘No; the sessions held but one day, and that was the twelfth.’ Then the judge said, this was a great mistake, and an error. Some of the justices grew so angry at this, that they seeming ready to have gone off the bench, stamped, and said, ‘Who hath done this? Somebody hath done this on purpose.’ Then said G. F. ‘Are not the justices here that have sworn to this indictment, forsworn men? But this is not all; I have more yet to offer why sentence should not be given against me, in what year of the king was it, that the last assizes, which was in the month called March, was holden here?’ To this the judge said it was in the sixteenth year of the king. ‘But,’ said G. Fox, ‘the indictment says it was in the fifteenth year.’ This was also acknowledged to be an error: but both judge and justices were in such a fret, that they knew not what to say; for it had been sworn also, that the oath was tendered to G. Fox at the assize mentioned in the indictment, viz. in the fifteenth year of the king, whereas it was in the sixteenth; which made G. Fox say, ‘Is not the court here forsworn also, they having sworn a whole year false?’ Some other remarkable errors he showed, which I, having no mind to be tedious, pass by with silence.

G. Fox then desiring justice, and saying, that he did not look for mercy, the judge said, you must have justice, and you shall have law: which made him ask, ‘Am I now free from all that hath been done against me in this matter?’ ‘Yes,’ said the judge; but then starting up in a rage he said, ‘I can put the oath to any man here; and I will tender you the oath again.’ G. Fox then telling him, that he had examples enough of yesterday’s swearing and false swearing; ‘For I saw before my eyes,’ said he, ‘that both justices and jury forswore themselves;’ yet the judge asked him if he would take the oath? But he replied, ‘Do me justice for my false imprisonment all this while;’ for he had been locked up, as was well known, in a wet and cold room, and therefore he said, ‘I ought to be set at liberty.’ At which the judge said, ‘you are at liberty, but I will put the oath to you again.’ G. Fox then turning himself about, said to the people, ‘Take notice, this is a snare; but I ought to be set free from the jailer, and from this court.’ But the judge instead of hearkening to that, cried, ‘Give him the book.’ G. Fox then taking the book, and looking in it, said, ‘I see it is a bible, and I am glad of it.’ In the meanwhile the jury being called by order of the judge, they stood by; for though they had desired, after they had brought in their former verdict, to be dismissed, yet he told them, he could not dismiss them yet, because he should have business for them; and therefore they must attend, and be ready. G. Fox, perceiving his intent, looking him in the face, which made him blush: nevertheless he caused the oath to be read, and then asked G. Fox whether he would take the oath or no; to which he said, ‘Ye have given me a book here to kiss, and to swear on; and this book says, kiss the Son; and the Son says in this book, “Swear not at all,” and so says also the apostle James: now I say, as the book says, and yet ye imprison me, for doing as the book bids me. How chance ye do not imprison the book for saying so? How comes it that the book is at liberty amongst you, which bids me swear not? Why do not ye imprison the book also?’ Whilst he was speaking thus, he held up the bible open, to show the place where Christ forbids swearing. But the book was taken from him, and the judge said, ‘No, but we will imprison George Fox.’

This case was so singular, that it was spread over all the country, as a by-word, that they gave G. Fox a book to swear on, that commanded him not to swear at all, and that this book, viz. the Bible, was at liberty, and he in prison, for doing as the Bible said. But the judge urged him still to swear; to which G. Fox said, ‘I am a man of a tender conscience; consider therefore, that it is in obedience to Christ’s command that I cannot swear: but if any of you can convince me, that after Christ and the apostle had commanded not to swear, they did alter that command, and commanded Christians to swear, then ye shall see I will swear.’ And he seeing there several priests, said, ‘If ye cannot do it, let your priests do it.’ But none of the priests said any thing; and the judge said, ‘All the world cannot convince you.’ To which he replied, ‘How is it like the world should convince me? For the whole world lies in wickedness: but bring out your spiritual men, as ye call them, to convince me.’ Then the sheriff and the judge said, that the angel swore in the Revelations. To which G. Fox replied, ‘When God bringeth in his first-begotten Son into the world, he saith, “Let all the angels of God worship him;” and he said, “Swear not at all.”’--‘Nay,’ said the judge, ‘I will not dispute.’ Then he told the jury, it was for Christ’s sake that he could not swear; and therefore he warned them not to act contrary to that of God in their consciences, because they must all appear before his judgment seat. After some more words spoken, the jailer took him away.

In the afternoon he was brought up again: and the jury having brought him in guilty of what he was charged within the indictment, viz. his not taking the oath, the judge asked him, what he had to say for himself. He then desired the indictment to be read; since he could not answer to that which he had not heard. The clerk reading it, the judge said, ‘Take heed it be not false again.’ But the clerk read it in such a manner, that G. Fox could hardly understand what he read. And when he had done, the judge asked G. Fox what he had to say to the indictment. To which he said, ‘At once hearing so large a writing read, and that at such a distance, that I could not distinctly hear all the parts of it; I cannot well tell what to say to it: but if you will let me have a copy of it, and give me time to consider, I shall answer it.’ This put the court to a little stand; but at length the judge asked him, what time he would have? And he answered, ‘Till the next assize.’ ‘But,’ said the judge, ‘What plea will you make now; are you guilty, or not guilty?’ To which he replied, ‘I am not guilty at all of denying swearing obstinately and wilfully: and as for those things mentioned in the oath, as jesuitical plots, and foreign powers, I utterly deny them in my heart: and if I could take any oath, I should take this; but I never took any oath in all my life.’ To this the judge returned, ‘You say well; but the king is sworn, the parliament is sworn, I am sworn, the justices are sworn, and the law is preserved by oaths.’ On which G. Fox told him, they had had sufficient experience of men’s swearing, and had seen how the justices and jury swore wrong the other day: and continued he, ‘If thou hast read in the book of Martyrs, how many of them did refuse to swear, both within the time of the ten persecutions, and in bishop Bonner’s day, thou mayest see that to deny swearing in obedience to Christ’s command, is no new thing.’ To this the judge said, he wished the laws were otherwise. G. Fox said then, ‘Our yea is yea, and our nay is nay: and if we transgress our yea and our nay, let us suffer as they do, or should do, that swear falsely. This I have offered to the king, and the king said it was reasonable.’

After some further discourse, G. Fox was committed to prison again, and Colonel Kirby ordered the jailer to keep him close, and to suffer nobody to come to him, as one that was not fit to be discoursed with. The jailer did not scruple to follow this order, for he locked him up in a smoky tower, where the smoke of the other prisoners came up so thick, that sometimes one could hardly see a burning candle; so that there seemed to have been an intent to choke him; for the turnkey could hardly be persuaded to unlock one of the upper doors a little to let out the smoke. Besides this hardship, in wet weather it rained in upon his bed to that degree, that his shirt grew wet. In this pitiful condition he lay during a long cold winter, which so afflicted him, that his body swelled, and his limbs were much benumbed. Here we will leave him till he was brought again to his trial, which was not before the next year.

But before I part with him, I must mention, that some time before he had written several papers to the emperor, the kings of France and Spain, and also to the pope. These writings were by somebody else turned into Latin, and so given out in print. In these he levelled chiefly against persecution for religion’s sake. He reproved the king of Spain more especially, because of the inquisition, and the burning of people: and he did not spare the pope, as being the spring of these evils, saying, ‘Innocent blood hath long cried for vengeance to the Lord: the earth almost swims with innocent blood; and the cry of it is heard. Your frozen profession, and your cold winter images being set up in your streets, the Lord God of power and death, and of heaven and earth, will be avenged on thee, and you all; his day is approaching. Ye great and rich cardinals and pope, ye have been fed like fat hogs; and seeing that thou wouldest not receive the Lord’s messengers, but threw them in prison, and in your inquisition, it may be the Lord may give you a visit another way, for his dread is gone out, and his zeal is kindled against you.--The fields are sprinkled with the blood of the innocent, and ye are the aceldama, or the field of blood. But the Lord is coming to take vengeance upon you; his hand is stretched over your heads, and his power is gone over you; with that he will rule you, and smite you down, and bring you that are lofty from your seats, and abase your pride, and take the glory to himself.--How much blood, which is unmeasurable, and cannot be measured here, have ye drank since the days of the apostles, and made yourselves drunk with it! But now is the indignation and wrath of the Almighty come and coming upon you; and thou pope must feel it. Tremble therefore, thou pope, tremble, fear, and quake thou pope, tremble ye cardinals, tremble ye jesuits, tremble ye priors, tremble ye monks and friars, of what rank soever, for the army of the Lord God is coming over you, by whom ye shall be taken, and dashed to pieces.’ These are but small sparkles of that flame which G. Fox blew against the pope, intermixing his writings with many demonstrations, that the Romish church was the whore of Babylon, and that she it was that had defiled herself with idolatry and superstition, and had bathed herself in the blood of the saints, having furiously attacked them with sword and fire. This he concluded with these words: ‘The plagues of God will be thy portion, O pope, who hath deceived the nations: and all ye jesuits and cardinals, howl, for your misery is coming, the mighty day of the Lord God upon you all; the Lord God, who will be worshipped in spirit and in truth, and with none of your inventions.’ Thus G. Fox wrote in that day to the pope and his counsellors; and no wonder that he paid dear for this sharp language against the head of the church of Rome; for it may be believed, that a great many of the court party, in those days, were either concealed Papists, or favourers of them: and yet among the national clergy, and even those of other persuasions, many branded the Quakers with the odious name of secret Papists, thereby to make them incur the hatred of the people.

Now I return to Francis Howgill, whom in the foregoing year we left in prison at Appleby. It was in the forepart of this year that he was brought to his trial. Being come into court before the judges sat, he spoke to the clerk of the assizes, and told him, he did not know whether they expected his appearance then or not: the clerk said, ‘You have done well,’ and that he would acquaint the judge, and he should only engage to him to appear the next assizes, to answer the indictment against him, and that he should not appear in court; Francis bid him do what he would. In the meantime Sir Philip Musgrave, (so called,) a great adversary to the Truth, and the great and chief prosecutor of Francis, had informed the judges against him, that he was a dangerous person, a ringleader, and a keeper up of meetings of dangerous consequence, and destructive of the peace of the nation; so then they concluded he should appear in court; and so the clerk informed him, and told him about what time he should be called. So the court began; judge Twisden gave the charge to the grand jury, in which he said, there was a sort of people, who under pretence of conscience and religion, seemed to build upon the king’s declaration from Breda, and under colour of this hatched treasons and rebellions, and gave the jury charge to inquire and present such, that the peace of the nation might be preserved; so they impanneled the jury, and Francis was called to the bar, and the judge spake as followeth:

Judge, speaking calmly to him, said, the face of things was much altered since the last assizes, and made a large speech to him and the country, telling him, that all sects under pretence of conscience did violate the laws, and hatched rebellions, ‘Not, (saith he,) that I have any thing to charge you with; but seeing the oath of allegiance was tendered to you the last assizes, and you refused to take it, it was looked upon that such persons were enemies to the king and government;’ and said, ‘I will not trouble you now to answer to your indictment, but I must do that the next assizes; in the meantime you must enter into recognizance for your good behaviour.’

To which F. H. answered, I desire liberty to speak, which he had without interruption, and said as followeth:

F. H. Judge Twisden, thou very well knowest upon how slender an account, or none, I was brought before thee the last assizes, where thou wert pleased to tender me the oath of allegiance, though I believe both thou and the rest of the court, did know it was a received principle among us not to swear at all; many reasons I gave thee then, many more I have to add, if I may have audience; for it may appear to you an absurd thing, and obstinacy in me to refuse it, if I should not tender a reason; I am, (said he,) none of those that make religion a cloak of maliciousness, nor conscience a cloak to carry on plots or conspiracies, the Lord hath redeemed me and many more out of such things, and seeing I am engaged to appear at the next assizes, I desire no further thing may be required of me.

Judge. You must enter into bond this dangerous time, and therefore consider of it, and tell me now, or before the assizes end.

The second day of the assizes he was called again.

F. H. Seeing thou art pleased to let me answer to the indictment, which I am willing to do, I have been of good behaviour, and shall so continue; but it seems a hard thing to me, and full of severity, that seeing I am obliged to appear to answer an indictment of so high a nature, (if prosecuted against me,) which tends to the loss of my liberty for life, and my estate forever, I hope the court will not envy my liberty for five months.

Judge Turner said, We do not desire your imprisonment, if you will be of good behaviour.

F. H. pressed that they would not put him upon giving bond to be of good behaviour, knowing himself to be bound by the truth, that he could not misbehave himself.

One Daniel Flemming, another persecuting justice, had framed another indictment against him for meeting, and stood up, (fearing the snare of giving bond would not hold,) and said as followeth:

D. Flemming. My lord, he is a great speaker, it may be the Quakers cannot want him.

Judge. Let him be what he will, if he will enter into bond.

F. H. said he had nothing to accuse himself of, for his conscience bore him witness that he loved peace, and sought it with all men.

Judges both spake. What do you tell of conscience? We meddle not with it; but you contemn the laws, and keep up great meetings, and go not to church.

F. H. We are fallen in a sad age; if meeting together peaceably, without arms, or force, or intention of hurt to any man, only to worship God in Spirit, and exhort one another to righteousness, and to pray together in the Holy Ghost, as the primitive Christians of old, that this should be reckoned breach of peace and misbehaviour.

Judge Twisden. Do you compare these times with them? They were heathens that persecuted, but we are Christian magistrates.

F. H. It is a doctrine always held by us, and a received principle which we believe, that Christ’s kingdom could not be set up with carnal weapons; nor the gospel propagated by force of arms, nor the church of God built with violence; but the Prince of Peace was manifested amongst us, and we could learn war no more, but could love enemies, and forgive them that did evil to us.

Philip Musgrave stood up, and said, ‘My Lord, we have been remiss towards this people, and have striven with them, and put them in prison again and again, and fined them, and as soon as they are out they meet again.’

Then stood up John Lowther, called a justice, and said, ‘My Lord, they grow insolent, notwithstanding all laws, and the execution of them, yet they grow upon us, and their meetings are dangerous.’

Philip Musgrave stood up, and produced a paper, (and justice Flemming, so called, seconded him,) in great capital letters, and gave it the judge; he told the judge, that it happened some Quakers were sent to prison, and one of them died at Lancaster, and they carried his corpse through the country, and set that paper upon his coffin, ‘This is the body of such an one, who was persecuted by Daniel Flemming till death.’

Judge. We have spent much time with you; I will discourse no more.

F. H. I acknowledge your moderation towards me, allowing me liberty to speak; I shall not trouble you much longer; I shall be willing to appear to answer to the indictment at the assizes, and in the meantime to live peaceably and quietly, as I have done, if that will satisfy.

Judge. You must enter into bond to come at no more meetings.

F. H. I cannot do that; if I should, I were treacherous to God and my own conscience, and the people and you would but judge me a hypocrite.

They were loth to commit him, yet at last they did.

This was in the latter part of the month called March, and he was kept about five months as before in a bad room, and none suffered to speak with him, but who got secretly to him without the jailer’s knowledge.

It was about this time that John Audland departed this life. He and his bosom friend, John Camm, (whose decease was some years before,) had travelled much together in the ministry of the gospel: therefore I will give an uninterrupted relation of their latter end; but first that of John Camm.

He was of very good parentage, born at Camsgil, in the barony of Kendal in Westmoreland, which seat had been possessed by his ancestors long before him. From his childhood he was inclined to be religious, and seeking after the best things, he joined with those that were the most strict in performing religious duties. And having afterwards heard G. Fox, he embraced as truth the doctrine he preached, and growing up in it, he himself became an eminent minister of the gospel among those called Quakers. He and his bosom friend John Audland, were the first of that society who preached at Bristol, where having been in the meetings of the Baptists and Independents, they also had meetings in several places without the city, where there was a great concourse of people, and many received their doctrine. Since that time these two ministers travelled much together, and many were convinced by their ministry. But at length John Camm, who did not spare himself, began to fall under a kind of consumption, insomuch that through weakness he was fain to stay at home; and then he often called his children and family together, exhorting them to godliness, and praying to the Lord for them. Some weeks before his death, he once expressed himself thus: ‘How great a benefit do I enjoy above many, having such a large time of preparation for death, being daily dying, that I may live for ever with my God, in that kingdom that is unspeakably full of glory. My outward man daily wastes and moulders down, and draws towards its place and centre; but my inward man revives, and mounts upwards towards its place and habitation in the heavens.’ The morning that he departed this life, he called his wife, children, and family, to him, and exhorting them to fear the Lord, to love his truth, to walk in it, and to be loving and kind to one another, telling them that his glass was run, the time of his departure was come; and he was to enter into everlasting ease, joy, and rest: charging them all to be patient and content with their parting with him. And so fainting, he passed into a sweet sleep; but by the weeping and crying of those about him, he awakened, and desired to be helped up a little in his bed, and then he spoke to this effect: ‘My dear hearts, ye have wronged me and disturbed me, for I was at sweet rest; ye should not so passionately sorrow for my departure; this house of earth and clay must go to its place; and this soul and spirit is to be gathered up to the Lord, to live with him for ever, where we shall meet with everlasting joy.’ Then taking leave of his family, he charged them to be content with his departure; and lying down, within a little time deceased.

His beloved friend John Audland, (who often bemoaned the loss of so dear a companion,) died also of a kind of consumption: for his ardent zeal made him strain his voice beyond what his body was well able to hear. In a meeting, which he once had with J. Camm, in a field without Bristol, where Charles Marshall was one of his auditors, after J. Camm had left off speaking, he stood up, with an awful and shining countenance: and lifting up his voice as a trumpet, he said, ‘I proclaim a spiritual war with the inhabitants of the earth, who are in the fall and separation from God, and I prophesy to the four winds of heaven.’ Thus he went on with mighty power, exhorting to repentance; and spoke with such a piercing authority, that some of the auditory fell on the ground, and cried out under the sense of their transgression. And when at Bristol he many times preached in an orchard to a great multitude, he would lift up his voice exceedingly, in order to be heard by all. Thus he spent his natural strength, though he was but a young man. About the twentieth year of his age, he married with one Anne Newby, of Kendal, a virtuous maid, not only of good family, but also excelling in piety, and therefore she freely gave him up to travel in the service of the gospel, notwithstanding his company was very dear to her; which made her say, that she believed few ever enjoyed a greater blessing in a husband so kind and affectionate. And how heartily and tenderly she loved him, may be seen by the following letter she wrote to him.

‘Dear Husband,

‘Thou art dearer to me than ever; my love flows out to thee, even the same love that I am loved withal of my Father. In that love salute me to all my friends, for dear you are all unto me; my life is much refreshed in hearing from you. I received thy letters, and all my soul desireth is to hear from thee in the life; dear heart, in life dwell, there I am with thee out of all time, out of all words, in the pure power of the Lord, there is my joy and strength; O! how am I refreshed to hear from thee, to hear of thy faithfulness and boldness in the work of the Lord. O! dear heart, I cannot utter the joy I have concerning thee; thy presence I have continually in spirit, therewith am I filled with joy; all glory and honour be to our God for ever. O! blessed be the day in which thou wast born, that thou art found worthy to labour in the work of the Lord. Surely the Lord hath found thee faithful in a little, therefore he hath committed much unto thee; go on in the name and power of the Lord Jesus Christ, from whence all strength cometh, to whom be all glory, and honour for ever. O! dear heart, go on, conquering and to conquer, knowing this, that thy crown is sure. So, dear heart, now is the time of the Lord’s work, and few are willing to go forth into it. All the world lieth in wickedness, doing their own work; but blessed be the Lord for ever, who hath called us from doing our own work, into his great work. O! marvellous are his works, and his ways past finding out. O! dear heart, thou knowest my heart, thou mayest read daily how that I rejoice in nothing more than in thy prosperity in the work of the Lord: Oh! it is past my utterance to express the joy I have for thee. I am full, I am full of love towards thee, never such love as this; the mighty power of the Lord go along with thee, and keep thee faithful and valiant, and bold in his pure counsel, to stand single out of all the world. O! dear heart, all my love to thee is purer than gold seven times purified in the fire: O! pure is he that hath loved us, therefore let purity and holiness cover us for ever. A joyful word it was to me, to hear that thou wast moved to go for Bristol: O my own heart, my own life! in that which now stands, act and obey, that thou mayest stand upon thy alone guard; so, dear heart, let thy prayers be for me, that I may be kept pure out of all temptations, singly to dwell in the life: so farewell.

ANNE AUDLAND.’

By this letter it appears, that there was an endeared mutual love between this virtuous couple. He was a man of great knowledge, but when his understanding came to be opened by the preaching of G. Fox, he would say, sometimes, ‘Ah, what have we been doing! Or what availeth our great profession? All our building tumbles down; our profession is high as the wind; the day of the Lord is upon it, and his word, as a fire, consumes it as dry stubble; and puts an end to all empty professions and high notions, without life or substance; to all the wisdom of fallen man. We must forsake the world, and all its glory; it is all but vanity and vexation of spirit: it is a Saviour that I long for; it is him that my soul pants after. O that I may be gathered into his life, and overshadowed with his glory, sanctified throughout by his word, and raised up by his eternal power!’ He continuing in this state of daily supplication and inward travail of soul, it pleased the Lord at length to furnish him with an extraordinary qualification to proclaim his word, which he did some years faithfully, and with great zeal. And though his wife loved him dearly, and preferred his company above what the world could give; yet in regard of his gospel service, she gave him up freely to be much from home; whereby during a great part of the time of their marriage, she had not his desirable company.

In the meanwhile he laboured diligently in the Lord’s harvest, till his bodily strength failing, and meeting with hard imprisonments, he was seized with a most violent cough, which was followed by a fever, so that his sleep was taken from him, which made him grow very weak; but he bore his sickness with great patience, and said once, that in those great meetings in the orchard at Bristol, he often forgot himself, not considering the inability of his body, from a desire to be heard by all: but that his reward was with him, and he content to be with the Lord, which his soul valued above all things. Not long before his departure, being visited by some of his friends, he spoke so comfortably, and with such power, as one that was beyond the feeling of his weakness. To his wife, who was big with child, and nigh her delivery, well knowing how tenderly she loved him, he said, ‘My will is in true subjection, submitting to the will of the Lord, whether life or death; and therefore give me up freely to his disposing.’ And she, how dear soever he was to her, did so; which gave him some ease, seeing her sincere resignedness; and being sometimes overcome with joy, he praised God in his sickness; nay so ardent was his zeal, that once, though very weak, he desired to be helped up in bed upon his knees; and thus he fervently supplicated the Lord in the behalf of his churches, that they might be preserved in the truth, out of the evil of the world, and that his gospel might spread, and be published to the gathering of all that pertain to Israel. His strength now diminishing daily, he sweetly departed at the age of thirty-four years, about three weeks after the fever first seized him. And his widow, who ten days after his decease was delivered of a son, behaved herself discreetly, and said afterwards in a paper concerning him: ‘The eternal God, who by his providence, joined us together in marriage, in our young days, in his blessed counsel also caused his day to spring from on high upon us: in the marvellous light, and bright shining whereof, he revealed his Son Christ in us, and gave us faith to believe in him, the eternal word of life, by which our souls came to be quickened, and made alive in him: and also in and by the quickening of his holy power, were made one in a spiritual and heavenly relation, our hearts being knit together in the unspeakable love of truth, which was our life, joy, and delight, and made our days together exceeding comfortable: as being that whereby all our temporal enjoyments were sanctified, and made a blessing to us. How hard it was, and how great a loss, to part with so dear and tender an husband as he was to me, is far beyond what I can express: the dolour of my heart, my tongue or pen is not able to declare. Yet in this I contented myself, that it was the will of the Lord that he was taken from the evil; and that my loss, though great, was not to be compared to his eternal gain.’ This widow, in process of time, was married to Thomas Camm, son of John Camm, her former husband’s bosom friend. She was indeed a woman of great virtue, but now I part with her, with intention to say more of her when I shall come to the time of her decease.

I return to Francis Howgill, whom we left in prison, and who now appeared again at the assizes, which were holden at Appleby, in the month called August. And he having got liberty to speak with the clerk of the assizes, who told him, that he must prepare himself to come to a trial, answered, he was prepared, but thought that all he could say, would little avail, believing they purposed to prosecute him with all severity: which proved so, as will appear by what follows; for the county justices had incensed the judges against him beforehand. Yet Howgill endeavoured all he could to convince them of his innocency; and to that end drew up the substance of the oath into several heads which he could subscribe to; to this he joined another paper to judge Turner, showing the cause of his first commitment and the former proceedings against him: and how unequal it was to prosecute him upon a statute made against popish recusants. He also signified in that paper, that he was a man of a tender spirit, and feared the Lord from a child, and he had never taken any oath but once in his life, which was twenty years ago; and that his refusing to take the oath of allegiance, was not in any evil intent to the king’s person or government, but merely upon a conscientious account, and that he could not swear, being otherwise persuaded of the Lord, seeing it was against the command of Christ, and the apostle James’s doctrine. Besides, that he was able to make it evident to be against the example of the primitive Christians for divers hundred years, and so no new opinion. That he did neither in wilfulness nor obstinacy refuse it, being sensible of the damage that would come thereby, if they did prosecute him upon that statute, he having a wife and children, and some small estate, which he knew lay at stake in the matter; but that though it were his life also, he could not revolt from, or deny that which he had most certainly believed in; but if any could convince him either by scripture or reason, he had an ear to hear. And therefore all those things considered, he desired he might he dismissed from his bonds, and from their persecution of him upon that account. These papers were delivered to the judges and justices before he appeared in court, and were read by them. He then being called to the bar at the assizes holden at Appleby, judge Turner said to him, ‘Here is an indictment against you for refusing to take the oath of allegiance; so you must plead to it, either guilty or not guilty.’

F. H. with a heart girded up with strength and courage, said, ‘Judge Turner, may I have liberty to speak, and make my defence, for I have none to plead my cause but the Lord?’

Judge. You may.

F. H. I will lay the true state of my case before thee, and of the proceedings against me from the first, seeing judge Twisden is not here, who had knowledge of all the proceedings hitherto. I am a countryman, born and brought up in this country; my carriage and conversation is known, how I have walked peaceably towards all men, as I hope my countrymen can testify. About a year ago being at my neighbouring market-town about my reasonable and lawful occasions, I was sent for by an high constable out of the market to the justices of peace, before whom I went; and when I came there, they had nothing to lay to my charge, but fell to ask me questions to ensnare me about our meetings; and when they could find no occasion, they seemed to tender the oath of allegiance to me, though they never read it to me, neither did I positively deny it, yet they committed me to prison; and so I was brought hither to this assize, and then the mittimus by which I was committed, was called for, and the judge read it, and said to the justices it was insufficient: nevertheless judge Twisden tendered the oath of allegiance to me; many things I did allege then, and many more I have to say now, if time will permit: from that time I was under an engagement to appear at the next assizes, and so was called, and did appear at the last jail-delivery, and a further obligation was required of me for good behaviour, which I could not give, lest I should be brought into a further snare; and since that time I have been committed prisoner these five months, of which time I have been kept under great restraint, my friends not permitted to speak to me: and thus briefly I have given thee an account hitherto. As to the oath, the substance thereof, with the representation of my case, is presented to the court already, unto which I have set my hand, and also shall in those words testify the same in open court, if required; and seeing it is the very substance the law doth require I desire it may be accepted, and I cleared from my imprisonment.

Judge. I am come to execute the law, and the law requires an oath, and I cannot alter it; do you think the law must be changed for you, or only for a few; if this be suffered, the administration of justice is hindered, no action can be tried, nor evidence given for the king, nor other particular cases tried; and your principles are altogether inconsistent with the law and government; I pray you show me which way we shall proceed, show me some reason, and give me some ground.

F. H. I shall: in the mouth of two or three witnesses every truth is confirmed; and we never denied to give, and still are ready to give evidence for the king wherein we are concerned, and in any other matter for the ending of strife between man and man in truth and righteousness, and this answers the substance of the law.

Judge. Is this a good answer, think you? whether to be given with or without oath: the law requires an oath.

F. H. Still evidence is and may be given in truth, according to the substance of the law, so that no detriment cometh unto any party, seeing that true testimony may be borne without an oath; and I did not speak of changing the law: yet seeing we never refused giving testimony, which answereth the intent and substance of the law, I judged it was reasonable to receive our testimony, and not to expose us to such sufferings, seeing we scrupled an oath only upon a conscientious account, in tenderness of conscience, for fear of breaking the command of Christ, the Saviour of the world, which if we do, there is none of you able to plead our cause for us with him.

Judge. But why do not you go to church, but meet in houses and private conventicles, which the law forbids.

F. H. We meet together only for the worship of the true God in Spirit and Truth, having the primitive Christians for our example, and to no other end, but that we may be edified, and God glorified; and when two or three are met together in the name of Christ, and he in the midst of them, there is a church.

Judge. That is true: but how long is it since you have been at church? Or will you go to the church the law doth allow of? Give me some reasons why you do not go.

F. H. I have many to give thee, if thou hast patience to hear me: first, God dwells not in temples made with men’s hands. Secondly, the parish house hath been a temple for idols, to wit, for the mass and the rood; and I dare have no fellowship with idols, nor worship in idols’ temples; for what have we to do with idols, their temples and worship?

Judge. Were there not houses called the houses of God, and temples?

F. H. Yes, under the law; but the Christians, who believed in Christ, separated from these, (and the temple was made and left desolate,) and from the Gentiles’ temples too, and met together in houses, and broke bread from house to house; and the church was not confined then to one particular place, neither is it now; many more things I have to say: the judge interrupted.

Judge. Will you answer to your indictment?

F. H. I know not what it is, I never heard it, though I have often desired a copy.

Judge. Clerk, read it.

So he read it: how that F. H. had wilfully, obstinately, and contemptuously denied to swear when the oath was tendered.

F. H. I deny it.

Judge. What do you deny?

F. H. The indictment.

Judge. Did you not deny to swear? And the indictment convicts you that you did not swear.

F. H. I gave unto the court the substance of the oath, as you all know. Secondly, I told you I did not deny it out of obstinacy or wilfulness, neither in contempt of the king’s law or government; for my will would rather choose my liberty, than bonds; and I am sensible it is like to be a great damage to me; I have a wife and children, and some estate, which we might subsist upon, and do good to others, and I know all this lies at stake; but if it were my life also, I durst not but do as I do, lest I should incur the displeasure of God; and do you judge I would lose my liberty wilfully, and suffer the spoiling of my estate, and the ruining of my wife and children in obstinacy and wilfulness? Surely nay.

Judge. Jury, you see he denies the oath, and he will not plead to the indictment, only excepts against it because of the form of words, but you see he will not swear, and yet he says he denies the indictment, and you see upon what ground.

And then they called the jailer to witness and swear that at the last assizes F. H. did refuse, &c. which he did; and the jury, without going from the bar, gave in their verdict, guilty, and then the court broke up that night.

The next day towards evening, when they had tried all the prisoners, Francis was brought to the bar to receive his sentence.

Judge stood up and said, ‘Come, the indictment is proved against you, what have you to say why sentence shall not be given?’

F. H. I have many things to say, if you will hear them. First, as I have said, I denied not out of obstinacy or wilfulness, but was willing to testify the truth in this matter of obedience, or any other matter wherein I was concerned. Secondly, because swearing was directly against the command of Christ. Thirdly, against the doctrine of the apostle. Fourthly, even some of your principal pillars of the church of England; as bishop Usher, some time primate of Ireland, he said in his works, the Waldenses did deny all swearing in their age, from that command of Christ and the apostle James, and it was a sufficient ground; and Dr. Gauden, late bishop of Exeter, in a book of his I lately read, he cited very many ancient fathers, to show, that the first three hundred years Christians did not swear, so that it is no new doctrine.

To which the court seemed to give a little ear, and said nothing, but talked one to another, and Francis stood silent, and then the judge said,

Judge. Sure you mistake.

F. H. I have not the books here.

Judge. Will you say upon your honest word they denied all swearing?

F. H. What I have said is true.

Judge. Why do you not come to church, and hear service, and be subject to the law, and to every ordinance of man for the Lord’s sake?

F. H. We are subject, and for that cause we do pay taxes, tribute, and custom, and give unto Cæsar the things that are his, and unto God the things that are his, to wit, worship, honour, and obedience; and if thou mean the parish assembly, I tell thee faithfully, I am persuaded, and upon good ground, their teachers are not the ministers of Christ, neither their worship the worship of God.

Judge. Why; it may be for some small things in the service, you reject it all.

F. H. First, it is manifest they are time-servers, one while preaching up that for divine service to people, that another while they cry down, as popish, superstitious and idolatrous; and that which they have preached up twenty years together, made shipwreck of all in a day; and now again call it divine, and would have all compelled to that themselves once made void.

Judge. Why; never since the king came in?

F. H. Yes, the same men that preached it down once, now cry it up; for they are so unstable and wavering, that we cannot believe they are the ministers of Christ. Secondly, they teach for hire, and live by forced maintenance, and would force a faith upon men, contrary to Christ and his apostle’s rule, who would have every one persuaded in their own minds, and said, whatsoever is not of faith is sin; and yet they say, faith is the gift of God; and we have no such faith given; but yet they would force theirs upon us, and because we cannot receive it, they cry, you are not subject to authority and the laws, and nothing but confiscations, imprisonment and banishment is threatened, and this is their greatest plea; I could mention more particulars; then the judge interrupted.

Judge. Well, I see you will not swear, nor conform, nor be subject, and you think we deal severely with you, but if you will be subject, we should not need.

F. H. I do so judge indeed, that you deal severely with us for obedience to the commands of Christ; I pray thee canst thou show me how any of those people, for whom the act was made, have been proceeded against by this statute, though I envy no man’s liberty.

Judge. Oh yes, I can instance you many up and down the country that are premunired, I have done it myself, pronounced sentence against divers.

F. H. What, against Papists?

Judge. No.

F. H. What, against the Quakers? So I have heard indeed; though then that statute was made against Papists, thou lettest them alone, and executest it against the Quakers.

Judge. Well, you will meet in great numbers, and do increase, but there is a new statute will make you fewer.

F. H. Well, if we must suffer, it is for Christ’s sake, and for well doing.

Francis then being silent, the judge pronounced the sentence, but spake so low, that the prisoner, though near to him, could scarce hear it.

The sentence was, You are put out of the king’s protection, and the benefit of the law, your lands are confiscated to the king during your life; and your goods and chattels for ever, and you to be prisoner during your life.

F. H. A hard sentence for my obedience to the commands of Christ; the Lord forgive you all.

So he turned from the bar; but the judge speaking, he turned again, and many more words passed to the same purpose, as before: at last, the judge rose up and said.

Judge. Well, if you will yet be subject to the laws, the king will show you mercy.

F. H. The Lord hath showed mercy unto me, and I have done nothing against the king, nor government, nor any man, and blessed be the Lord, and therein stands my peace; for it is for Christ’s sake I suffer, and not for evil doing. And so the court broke up. The people were generally moderate, and many were sorry to see what was done against him; but Francis signified how contented and glad he was, that he had any thing to loose for the Lord’s precious Truth, of which he had publicly borne testimony, and that he was now counted worthy to suffer for it.

This he did cheerfully, and died in bonds, after above four years imprisonment, as may be related in its due time. He was a man of learning, and a great writer among his fellow believers; insomuch, that during his confinement he wrote not only several edifying epistles to exhort them to constancy and steadfastness, in the doctrine of Truth, but also some books to refute the opposers of it.

We have here seen how the judge said, there is a new statute which will make you fewer. This statute bore the title of an act to prevent and suppress seditious conventicles. And though the act made two years before did extend to banishment, yet that punishment was renewed, and expressed more at large in this, which was as followeth:

Whereas an act made in the five and thirtieth year of the reign of our late sovereign lady queen Elizabeth, intitled an act to retain the queen’s majesty’s subjects in their due obedience, hath not been put in due execution by reason of some doubt of late made, whether the said act be still in force; although it be very clear and evident, and it is hereby declared, that the said act is still in force, and ought to be put in due execution:

II. For providing therefore of further and more speedy remedies against the growing and dangerous practices of seditious sectaries, and other disloyal persons, who under pretence of tender consciences, do at their meetings contrive insurrections, as late experience hath showed;

III. Be it enacted by the king’s most excellent majesty, by and with the advice and consent of the lords spiritual and temporal, and commons in this present parliament assembled, and by the authority of the same, that if any person of the age of sixteen years or upwards, being a subject of this realm, at any time after the 1st day of July, which shall be in the year of our Lord, one thousand six hundred sixty and four, shall be present at any assembly, conventicle or meeting, under colour or pretence of any exercise of religion, in other manner than is allowed by the liturgy or practice of the church of England in any place within the kingdom of England, dominion of Wales, and town of Berwick-upon-Tweed; at which conventicle, meeting, or assembly, there shall be five persons or more assembled together, over and above those of the same household; then it shall and may be lawful to and for any two justices of the peace of the county, limit, division or liberty wherein the offence aforesaid shall be committed, or for the chief magistrate of the place where such offence aforesaid shall be committed, (if it be within a corporation where there are not two justices of the peace,) (2) and they are hereby required and enjoined upon proof to them or him respectively made of such offence, either by confession of the party, or oath of witness, or notorious evidence of the fact, (which oath the said justices of the peace, and chief magistrate respectively, are hereby empowered and required to administer,) to make a record of every such offence and offences under their hands and seals respectively; (3) which record so made, as aforesaid, shall to all intents and purposes be in law taken and adjudged to be a full and perfect conviction of every such offender for such offence: and thereupon the said justices and chief magistrate respectively shall commit every such offender so convicted, as aforesaid, to the jail or house of correction, there to remain without bail or mainprize, for any time not exceeding the space of three months, unless such offender shall pay down to the said justices or chief magistrate such sum of money not exceeding five pounds, as the said justices or chief magistrate, (who are hereby thereunto authorized and required,) shall fine the said offender at, for his or her said offence; which money shall be paid to the church wardens for the relief of the poor of the parish where such offender did last inhabit.

IV. And be it further enacted by the authority aforesaid, that if such offender so convicted, as aforesaid, shall at any time again commit the like offence contrary to this act, and be thereof in manner aforesaid convicted, then such offender so convicted of such second offence, shall incur the penalty of imprisonment in the jail or house of correction, for any time not exceeding six months, without bail or mainprize, unless such offender shall pay down to the said justices or chief magistrate, such sum of money, not exceeding ten pounds, as the said justices or chief magistrate, (who are thereunto authorized and required, as aforesaid,) shall fine the said offender at, for his or her said second offence, the said fine to be disposed in manner aforesaid.

V. And be it further enacted by the authority aforesaid, that if any such offender so convicted of a second offence contrary to this act in manner aforesaid, shall at any time again commit the like offence contrary to this act, then any two justices of the peace, and chief magistrate, as aforesaid, respectively, shall commit every such offender to the jail, or house of correction, there to remain without bail or mainprize until the next general quarter sessions, assizes, jail-delivery, great sessions, or sitting of any commission of Oyer and Terminer in the respective county, limit, division or liberty which shall first happen; (2) when and where every such offender shall be proceeded against by indictment for such offence, and shall forthwith be arraigned upon such indictment, and shall then plead the general issue of not guilty, and give any special matter in evidence, or confess the indictment: (3) and if such offender proceeded against, shall be lawfully convicted of such offence, either by confession or verdict, or if such offender shall refuse to plead the general issue, or to confess the indictment, then the respective justices of the peace at their general quarter sessions, judges of assize and jail-delivery, justices of the great sessions at the great sessions, and commissioners of Oyer and Terminer at their sitting, are hereby enabled and required to cause judgment to be entered against such offender, that such offender shall be transported beyond the seas to any of his majesty’s foreign plantations, (Virginia and New England only excepted,) there to remain seven years: (4) and shall forthwith under their hands and seals make out warrants to the sheriff or sheriffs of the same county where such conviction or refusal to plead or to confess, as aforesaid, shall be, safely to convey such offender to some port or haven nearest or most commodious to be appointed by them respectively; and from thence to embark such offender to be safely transported to any of his majesty’s plantations beyond the seas, as shall be also by them respectively appointed, (Virginia and New England only excepted:) (5) whereupon the said sheriff shall safely convey and embark, or cause to be embarked such offender, to be transported, as aforesaid, under pain of forfeiting for default of so transporting every such offender, the sum of forty pounds of lawful money, the one moiety thereof to the king, and the other moiety to him or them that shall sue for the same in any of the king’s courts of record, by bill, plaint, action of debt, or information; in any of which no wager of law, essoign or protection shall be admitted: (6) and the said respective court shall then also make out warrants to the several constables, headboroughs, or tithingmen of the respective places where the estate real or personal of such offender so to be transported shall happen to be, commanding them thereby to sequester into their hands the profits of the lands, and to distrain and sell the goods of the offender so to be transported, for the reimbursing of the said sheriff all such reasonable charges as he shall be at, and shall be allowed him by the said respective court for such conveying, or embarking of such offender so to be transported, rendering to the party, or his or her assigns, the overplus of the same, if any be, unless such offender, or some other on the behalf of such offender so to be transported, shall give the sheriff such security as he shall approve of, for the paying all the said charges unto him.

VI. And be it further enacted by the authority aforesaid, that in default of defraying such charges by the parties to be transported, or some other in their behalf; or in default of security given to the sheriff, as aforesaid, it shall and may be lawful for every such sheriff to contract with any master of a ship, merchant, or other person, for the transporting of such offender at the best rate he can: (2) and that in every such case it shall and may be lawful for such persons so contracting with any sheriff for transporting such offender, as aforesaid, to detain and employ every such offender so by them transported, as a labourer to them or their assigns, for the space of five years, to all intents and purposes, as if he or she were bound by indentures to such person for that purpose: (3) and that the respective sheriffs shall be allowed or paid from the king, upon their respective accompt in the exchequer, all such charges by them expended, for conveying, embarking and transporting of such persons, which shall be allowed by the said respective courts from whence they received their respective warrants, and which shall not have been by any of the ways aforementioned paid, secured, or reimbursed unto them, as aforesaid.

VII. Provided always, and be it further enacted, that in case the offender so indicted and convicted for the said third offence, shall pay into the hands of the register or clerk of the court or sessions where he shall be convicted, (before the said court or sessions shall be ended,) the sum of one hundred pounds, that then the said offender shall be discharged from imprisonment and transportation, and the judgment for the same.

VIII. And be it further enacted, that the like imprisonment, indictment, arraignment and proceedings shall be against every such offender, as often as he shall again offend after such third offence; nevertheless is dischargeable and discharged, by the payment of the like sum as was paid by such offender for his or her said offence next before committed, together with the additional and increased sum of one hundred pounds more upon every new offence committed; (2) the said respective sums to be paid as aforesaid, and to be disposed as followeth, viz. the one moiety for the repair of the parish church or churches, chapel or chapels of such parish within which such conventicle, assembly, or meeting shall be held; and the other moiety to the repair of the highways of the said parish or parishes, (if need require,) or otherwise for the amendment of such highways as the justices of peace at their respective quarter sessions shall direct and appoint. (3) And if any constable, headborough or tithingman, shall neglect to execute any the said warrants made unto them for sequestering, distraining, and selling any of the goods and chattels of any offender against this act, for the levying such sums of money as shall be imposed for the first or second offence, he shall forfeit for every such neglect, the sum of five pounds of lawful money of England, the one moiety thereof to the king, and the other moiety to him that shall sue for the same in any of the king’s courts of record, as is aforesaid. (4) And if any person be at any time sued for putting in execution any of the powers contained in this act, such person shall and may plead the general issue, and give the special matter in evidence; (5) And if the plaintiff be nonsuited, or a verdict pass for the defendant thereupon, or if the plaintiff discontinue his action, or if upon demurrer, judgment be given for the defendant, every such defendant shall have his or their treble costs.

IX. And be it further enacted, that if any person against whom judgment of transportation shall be given in manner aforesaid, shall make escape before transportation, or being transported as aforesaid, shall return unto this realm of England, dominion of Wales, and town of Berwick-upon-Tweed, without the special license of his majesty, his heirs and successors, in that behalf first had and obtained, that the party so escaping or returning, shall be adjudged a felon, and shall suffer death as in case of felony, without benefit of clergy, (2) and shall forfeit and lose to his majesty all his or her goods and chattels forever; and shall further lose to his majesty all his or her lands, tenements and hereditaments for and during the life only of such offender, and no longer: and that the wife of any such offender by force of this act, shall not lose her dower, nor shall any corruption of blood grow, or be by reason of any such offence mentioned in this act; but that the heir of every such offender by force of this act, shall and may after the death of such offender, have and enjoy the lands, tenements and hereditaments of such offenders, as if this act had not been made.

X. And for better preventing of the mischiefs which may grow by such seditious and tumultuous meetings, under pretence of religious worship, (2) Be it further enacted by the authority aforesaid, that the lieutenants or deputy-lieutenants, or any commissioned officers of the militia, or any other of his majesty’s forces, with such troops or companies of horse or foot; and also the sheriffs and justices of peace, and other magistrates and ministers of justice, or any of them-jointly or severally, within any the counties or places within this kingdom of England, dominion of Wales, or town of Berwick-upon-Tweed, with such other assistance as they shall think meet, or can get in readiness with the soonest, on certificate made to them respectively under the hand and seal of any one justice of the peace, or chief magistrate, as aforesaid, of his particular information or knowledge of such unlawful meetings or conventicles held or to be held in their respective counties or places, and that he, (with such assistance as he can get together, is not able to suppress or dissolve the same,) shall and may, and are hereby required and enjoined to repair unto the place where they are so held, or to be held, and by the best means they can to dissolve and dissipate, or prevent all such unlawful meetings, and take into their custody such of those persons so unlawfully assembled as they shall judge to be the leaders and seducers of the rest, and such others as they shall think fit to be proceeded against according to law for such their offences.

XI. And be it further enacted by the authority aforesaid, that every person who shall wittingly and willingly suffer any such conventicle, unlawful assembly, or meeting aforesaid, to be held in his or her house, outhouse, barn or room, yard or backside, woods or grounds, shall incur the same penalties and forfeitures as any other offender against this act ought to incur, and be proceeded against in all points, in such manner as any other offender against this act ought to be proceeded against.

XII. Provided also, and be it enacted by the authority aforesaid, that if any keeper of any jail or house of correction, shall suffer any person committed to his custody for any offence against this act, to go at large, contrary to the warrant of his commitment according to this act, or shall permit any person who is at large, to join with any person committed to his custody by virtue of this act, in the exercise of religion, differing from the rites of the church of England, then every such keeper of a jail or house of correction, shall for every such offence forfeit the sum of ten pounds, to be levied, raised, and disposed by such persons and in such manner as the penalties for the first and second offences against this act are to be levied, raised, and disposed.

XIII. Provided always, that no person shall be punished for any offence against this act, unless such offender be prosecuted for the same within three months after the offence committed: (2) and that no person who shall be punished for any offence by virtue of this act, shall be punished for the same offence by virtue of any other act or law whatsoever.

XIV. Provided also, and be it enacted, that judgment of transportation shall not be given against any feme covert, unless her husband be at the same time under the like judgment, and not discharged by the payment of money as aforesaid; but that instead thereof, she shall by the respective court be committed to the jail or house of correction, there to remain without bail or mainprize, for any time not exceeding twelve months, unless her husband shall pay down such sum, not exceeding forty pounds, to redeem her from imprisonment, as shall be imposed by the said court, the said sum to be disposed by such persons, and in such manner, as the penalties for the first and second offence against this act are to be disposed.

XV. Provided also, and be it enacted by the authority aforesaid, that the justices of the peace, and the chief magistrate respectively empowered as aforesaid to put this act in execution, shall and may, with what aid, force, and assistance they shall think fit, for the better execution of this act, after refusal or denial, enter into any house, or other place, where they shall be informed any such conventicle as aforesaid, is or shall be held.

XVI. Provided, that no dwelling-house of any peer of this realm, whilst he or his wife shall be there resident, shall be searched by virtue of this act, but by immediate warrant from his majesty under his sign manual, or in the presence of the lieutenant, or one of the deputy lieutenants, or two justices of the peace, whereof one to be of the quorum of the same county or riding: (2) nor shall any other dwelling-house of any peer or other person whatsoever, be entered into with force by virtue of this act, but in the presence of one justice of the peace, or chief magistrate respectively, except within the city of London, where it shall be lawful for any such other dwelling-house to be entered into as aforesaid, in presence of one justice of the peace, alderman, deputy alderman, or any one commissioner for the lieutenancy for the city of London.

XVII. Provided also, and be it enacted by the authority aforesaid, that no person shall by virtue of this act be committed to the house of correction, that shall satisfy the said justices of the peace, or chief magistrate respectively, that he or she, (and in case of a feme covert, that her husband,) hath an estate of freehold, or copyhold, to the value of five pounds per annum, or personal estate to the value of fifty pounds; any thing in this act to the contrary notwithstanding.

XVIII. And in regard a certain sect called Quakers, and other sectaries, are found not only to offend in the matters provided against by this act, but also obstruct the proceedings of justice by their obstinate refusal to take oaths lawfully tendered unto them in the ordinary course of law; (2) Therefore be it further enacted by the authority aforesaid, that if any person or persons being duly and legally served with process, or other summons, to appear in any court of record, except courtleets, as a witness, or returned to serve of any jury, or ordered to be examined upon interrogatories, or being present in court, shall refuse to take any judicial oath legally tendered to him by the judge or judges of the same court, having no legal plea to justify or excuse the refusal of the same oath; (3) Or if any person or persons being duly served with process, to answer any bill exhibited against him or them in any court of equity, or any suit in any court ecclesiastical, shall refuse to answer such bill or suit upon his or their corporal oath, in cases where the law requires such answer to be put in upon oath; or being summoned to be a witness in any such court, or ordered to be examined upon interrogatories, shall for any cause or reason, not allowed by law, refuse to take such oath, as in such cases is required by law; (4) that then, and in such case, the several and respective courts wherein such refusal shall be made, shall be, and are hereby enabled to record, enter, or register such refusal, which record or entry shall be, and is hereby made a conviction of such offence; (5) and all and every person and persons so as aforesaid offending, shall for every such offence incur the judgment and punishment of transportation in such manner as is appointed by this act for other offences.

XIX. Provided always, that if any the person or persons aforesaid shall come into such court, and take his or their oath in these words:

I do swear that I do not hold the taking of an oath to be unlawful, nor refuse to take an oath on that account.

XX. Which oath the respective court or courts aforesaid, are hereby authorized and required forthwith to tender, administer, and register before the entry of the conviction aforesaid, (2) or shall take such oath before some justice of the peace, who is hereby authorized and required to administer the same, to be returned into such court, (3) such oath so made shall acquit him or them from such punishment; any thing herein to the contrary notwithstanding.

XXI. Provided always, that every person convicted as aforesaid in any courts aforesaid, (other than his majesty’s court of king’s bench, or before the justices of assize, or general jail-delivery,) shall by warrant containing a certificate of such conviction under the hand and seal of the respective judge or judges before whom such conviction shall be had, be sent to some one of his majesty’s jails in the same county where such conviction was had, there to remain without bail or mainprize until the next assizes, or general jail-delivery, (2) where, if such person so convicted shall refuse to take the oath aforesaid, being tendered unto him by the justice or justices of assize or jail-delivery, then such justice or justices shall cause judgment of transportation to be executed in such manner as judgment of transportation by this act is to be executed: but in case such person shall take the said oath, then he shall thereupon be discharged.

XXII. Provided always, and be it enacted by the authority aforesaid, that if any peer of this realm shall offend against this act, he shall pay ten pounds for the first offence, and twenty pounds for the second offence, to be levied upon his goods and chattels by warrant from any two justices of the peace, or chief magistrate of the place or division where such peer shall dwell: (2) and that every peer for the third, and every further offence against the tenour of this act, shall be tried by his peers, and not otherwise.

XXIII. Provided also, and be it further enacted by the authority aforesaid, that this act shall continue in force for three years after the end of this present session of parliament; and from thence forward to the end of the next session of parliament after the said three years, and no longer.

A learned man at London, of what persuasion I know not, published a little book in relation to this act, wherein he showed from the laws of England, the absurdity of it: since all religious acts, exercised by six persons, not according to the formality of the church of England, were forbidden; and that at this rate it might be reckoned a transgression, if a woman being in travail, and in danger of life, one of the company said a prayer; or if any one spoke something to comfort the near relations of a deceased person; or prayed for the health or happiness of a young married couple, &c. by which it might happen, that some by the malice of their enemies, might not only incur imprisonment for three months, but also by virtue of the act of banishment, might be condemned to transportation. That this was not without danger, did appear sufficiently by what judge Orlando Bridgman said at Hertford to the jury, viz. ‘You are not to expect a plain punctual evidence against them for any thing they said or did at their meeting; for they may speak to one another, though not with or by articular sound, but by a cast of the eye, or a motion of the head or foot, or gesture of the body. So that if you find or believe in your hearts that they were in the meeting under colour of religion in their way, though they sat still only and looked upon each other, it was an unlawful meeting.’ At this rate the jurymen, who ought to be impartial judges, or mediators, were swayed, so that without fear they might find the Quakers that were met together guilty of transgressing the law.

Now, since at that time they were resolved to banish the Quakers, so called, George Whitehead published a little book, in which he showed the unreasonableness of the persecutors, and also strengthened his friends with solid arguments against the charge of stiffneckedness, answering some specious objections; amongst the rest, that the Quakers might keep small meetings, and so not fall under the lash of the law; for if they did not meet above five in number, they kept without the reach of the law; and by keeping private meetings they might also acquit their consciences before God. But to this G. Whitehead answered, that it might have been objected to the prophet Daniel, that he might have prayed secretly, and not with open windows and thrice a day, after king Darius had signed the decree, that whosoever should ask a petition of any god or man for thirty days, save of the king, he should be cast into the den of lions; but that Daniel, notwithstanding this decree, had continued to pray to God as before. ‘Since then,’ said G. Whitehead, ‘our meetings are kept in obedience to the Lord God, and according to the freedom he hath given us, we may not leave off our testimony for God in that case; but we must be faithful to him, whatever we suffer on that account. For neither the threatenings of men, nor their severity or cruelty acted against us, how far soever it may be extended, can make us to forsake the Lord in not keeping our assemblies, or to be ashamed of Christ before men, lest hereafter he be ashamed of us before his Father which is in heaven.’ Besides, he showed how unreasonable it was to incite the jury on an ill-grounded suspicion, without leaving them the liberty of their own judgment: and the judges he showed their duty from the law, and Magna Charta. He also showed how unequal it was, that soldiers, who abused his friends in their meetings, should be called as witnesses against them; and that they should be locked up with thieves and felons, since this was contrary to the right of a free-born Englishman. But this representation of G. Whitehead was slighted, since they were resolved to go on with banishing of the Quakers, and to transport them to the West Indies; which however, according to the ancient laws, might not be done to a free-born Englishman against his mind. Josiah Coale about this time gave forth also a paper, being a warning to the king and both houses of parliament, to dissuade them from persecution. But this did not avail, for persecution went on.

In the month called August, eight of those called Quakers, viz. Francis Prior, Nicholas Lucas, Henry Feast, Henry Marshal, Jeremiah Hern, Thomas Wood, John Blendale, and Samuel Trahern, were tried at Hertford before judge Orlando Bridgman, already mentioned. The indictment contained, that they had been at an unlawful meeting under colour and pretence of religion; and the witnesses declared, that they had met together above the number of five, and were taken at such times, and such places; for they must have transgressed thrice before they could be condemned to banishment: but the witnesses declared also, that they neither heard them speak any words, nor saw them do any thing at their meeting, but sit still. The indictment having been delivered to the grand jury, they could not agree in their verdict; for there were some amongst them whose consciences would not give them leave to be accessary to this work of persecution; and therefore they brought in their verdict ignoramus. Now, though such a verdict as this ought not to be rejected, yet judge Bridgman standing up, and seeming to be angry, spoke to the jury after this manner: ‘My masters, what do you mean to do? Will you make a nose-of-wax of the law, and suffer the law to be baffled? Those that think to deceive the law, the law will deceive them. Why do not ye find the bill?’ To which one of the jury said, that it concerned them to be wary, and well satisfied in what they did, for they were upon men’s lives for ought they knew. ‘No,’ said the judge, ‘I desire not their lives, but their reformation:’ and then he gave the jury some directions, and he so coloured the matter, that they going out again soon returned, and found the bill.

Then four of the prisoners were called to the bar, their indictment read, and they asked, guilty, or not guilty; to which they answered, ‘Not guilty,’ and that they had transgressed no just law. ‘But,’ said the judge, ‘ye have transgressed this law, (having the act in his hand,) and ye have been twice convicted already upon record, and if ye are found guilty by the jury this time, I must pass the sentence of transportation upon you. Now, therefore ye shall see that we do not desire to strain the law to the highest severity; neither do I believe that it was the aim of the law-makers to be severe, but for conforming. If ye will promise that ye will not go, or be at any more such meetings, I will show you this favour, as to acquit you for what is past: this favour ye may receive before the jury is charged with you; but afterwards I cannot do it. And know also, if the jury for want of punctual evidence, should not find you guilty, yet if ye are taken again, ye will be in the same case ye now are in. What say you? Will ye promise to meet no more?’ To this the prisoners answered, they could promise no such thing. Then a jury was called, and the indictment read a second time, containing, that the prisoners had been at an unlawful meeting at such a time and place, the first, second, and third time. The witnesses being called, gave the same evidence as before; and then the judge said thus to the jury: ‘My masters, the jury, ye hear what evidence the witnesses give; how they took them at such times, at such places, which are places they use to meet in; and that they were above the number of five, besides the persons of the family where they met; and that they are twice convicted already upon record: and this is the third offence, which incurs the sentence of transportation, if ye find them guilty.’ Then he spoke these words which have been mentioned already, viz. ‘Ye are not to expect a plain punctual evidence against them for any thing they said or did at their meeting, &c. for dumb men may speak to one another, so as they may understand each other by signs: and they themselves say, that the worship of God is inward, in the spirit, and that they can discern spirits, and know one another in spirit. So that if ye find or believe in your hearts that they were in the meeting, under colour of religion in their way, though they sat still only, it was an unlawful meeting; and their use and practice not according to the liturgy of the church of England; for it allows and commands when people meet together in the church, that divine service shall be read, &c. And ye must find the bill; for ye must have respect to the meaning and intent of the law, which the king and parliament have in wisdom and policy made, not only against conventicles, but the words assembly and meeting were added; for we have had late experience of the danger of such meetings under colour of religion: and it is an easy matter at such meetings to conspire and consult mischief. Therefore the wisdom and policy of the king and parliament, lest they should be undermined, have made this law, which is not a law against conscience, for it doth not touch conscience at all, as I confess some other laws do, which enjoin coming to church, and some other things.’ This and more judge Bridgman spoke to the jury, to persuade them to bring the prisoners in guilty. And the jury being gone out, within the space of an hour returned, and their foreman said, that Nicholas Lucas, and the other three, were guilty.

What the judge had said, that they had had late experience of the danger of such meetings under colour of religion, was of no force at all; for it never had appeared that the Quakers in religious meetings did any thing else than the performing of their worship, though there were other evidences concerning the Fifth monarchy-men; but it was universally known that the Quakers had no part therein, nor joined with them in the least degree. It was also a very absurd saying of the judge, that this law did not touch conscience: for it was merely for conscience-sake that the Quakers frequented not the public service and liturgy of the church of England, and kept religious meetings by themselves. But the jury seemed well satisfied with what the judge had told them; and he having thus obtained his aim, read the prisoners’ names, and said to them, ‘What can ye say for yourselves, that judgment of transportation should not pass, or be given against you?’ To which they said, ‘We are innocent, and have transgressed no just law; if we must have that sentence, we give up our bodies freely into the hands of the Lord; the will of the Lord be done.’ ‘Have ye nothing more to say?’ said the judge. ‘Nothing, but that we are innocent,’ replied the prisoners, ‘we have wronged no man.’ ‘Then hearken to your sentence,’ said the judge. ‘Ye shall be transported beyond the seas, to the island of Barbadoes, there to remain seven years.’

Then Jeremiah Hern and Thomas Wood were called to the bar, and their indictment read, to which they pleaded, ‘Not guilty, but innocent;’ and Jeremiah said, he was no such person as the act mentioned, for plotting and contriving insurrections. Then the judge interrupting him, said, ‘You are a forward man, you have an estate;’ and so he caused him to be set by: and to Thomas Wood he said, ‘I hear a good report of you; consider what you do; I am sorry, seeing you have a good report among your neighbours, that you should be found guilty, which I fear you will if you put yourself upon trial: I am willing to show you favour; and it may be one man may fare the better for another.’ This reflected on Jeremiah, who, by the malice of one John King, had been falsely represented to the judge. Yet Jeremiah having shown how he had been wronged, the judge said, they should both partake of his favour, if they would but desire it, and this favour consisted in this, as he himself said, that he would wave the proceedings of the court, and give them till the next assizes, to consider better with themselves. ‘What say you, (thus he continued,) will ye have it deferred till the next assizes? for if the jury find the bill, you will be sent to Jamaica; ye must not all go to one place.’ To this the prisoners returned, ‘We have transgressed no law of God, nor wronged any man: we leave it to the court; we desire it not.’ ‘If you will not desire it,’ replied the judge, ‘I cannot, nor will do it.’

Then three other prisoners were brought to the bar, among whom was one John Reynolds, who, according to the deposition of the witnesses, had been within a yard of the door of the meeting-place, with his face from it. The judge then said, ‘God forbid that I should do any thing that is not right and just against my conscience; there is that which is written upon the wall before me, which puts me in mind, that I should not judge for man, but for God.’ Then turning to the jury, he spoke to them almost after the same manner, as he did concerning the other four prisoners: and to induce them to declare Reynolds, (who was taken but not in the meeting,) guilty, he spoke thus: ‘Suppose a man be killed in a house, and nobody saw him killed, but a man is met coming out of the house with a bloody knife in his hand, it is a very probable evidence that he is guilty of the murder. So though the witnesses do not say that they saw and took him in the meeting, yet they swore he was within a yard of the door with his face from the place where they usually met; and he hath been taken twice already, and convicted upon record. My masters, I leave it to you, go forth.’ Then a bailiff was called, and charged to provide the jury a room, and to let none speak with them, nor to let them have either bread, drink, or candle, till they brought in their verdict. The jury being gone out, soon agreed, and after they were returned said, that four of the five prisoners were guilty, and that the other who stood without the door was not guilty. So he was acquitted; but the other four being brought to the bar, the judge asked them, what they could say why judgment of transportation should not be given against them. Their answer was, ‘We are innocent, and have not offended any just law of God or man, to deserve that sentence; we leave it to the witness of God in thy or your consciences.’ Then the judge said, ‘Ye have offended against this law, (having the act before him,) which is made by the king and parliament, and executed by us their subordinate ministers: if it be not righteous and just, we must answer for that.’ One of the prisoners had said before, ‘If I have transgressed any just law, let me suffer; and if not, he that judgeth for God will not condemn me.’ To which the judge returned, ‘You do well to put me in mind of my duty; pray think of your own.’ And now he asked the prisoners, ‘Have you any more to say?’ To which they answered, ‘Nothing, but that we are innocent.’ Then he said, ‘Hear your sentence: you shall be transported beyond the seas, to the island of Jamaica, being one of his majesty’s foreign plantations, there to remain seven years. Now I have this one thing to acquaint you with, that if you, and either of you, will pay down here into the court, an hundred pounds before the court riseth, you and every one of you shall be discharged, and clearly acquitted for what is past. And I will show you this favour, not to discharge the court at this present, but shall adjourn it till afternoon.’ This was done; and the court being met again, the judge sent to the condemned prisoners to know if they would pay down the hundred pounds; but they answering, ‘No,’ the court was then soon discharged.

Seven of these prisoners not long after were carried on ship-board to be transported to the West Indies; but (which was remarkable,) the ship by contrary winds and stormy weather was hindered going to sea. Not only the master, whose name was Thomas May, but also his men, grew very uneasy at this: for they believed that Heaven was against them: nay, the sailors threatened to leave the ship, if the master would not set those prisoners ashore. And he himself, considering how after having lain long in the Downs, and more than once set sail, they were hindered to go on by contrary winds, resolved at length, after having lingered about two months, to set the banished ashore; and so he did, giving them a certificate, of which I have a copy in my custody, that they were not run away, but freely put ashore by him, for which, among others, he gave these reasons, that seeing the great adversities they had met with, he concluded from thence, that the hand of God was against him, and that therefore he durst not go off with these prisoners, because he found them to be honest men, who had not deserved banishment. And also that there was a law extant, that no Englishman might be transported against his mind. And that his men refused to proceed on the voyage if he would carry away these people. This certificate he gave under his hand, and so let them go away free; and not long after the ship set sail with a fair wind. I do not find that the banished, who returned home again, were prosecuted on this account: for the sentence against them was executed as far as it could at that time, and they had made no opposition, but had been sufferers.

Persecution in the meanwhile did not cease: but this did not discourage those called Quakers; they continued valiant, as I have seen in many letters sent about that time to some of my acquaintance. One said in the court of justice, ‘We are in the service of the Lord, and may not leave it;’ another who was offered to be freed of banishment, if he would pay down an hundred pounds, said, ‘Though I had an hundred lives to lose, and could redeem them all for an hundred pence, yet I would not do it.’ But this could not stop the violence of the persecutors; till an heavier hand reached them, as may be related hereafter.

In the months of October and December many were condemned to transportation, and among these several women, whose trials I shall but cursorily speak of: for if I should relate all particulars, the description would far exceed my limits; and therefore I will but touch upon some few things.

On the 13th of October, sixteen of those called Quakers were tried at Hicks’s Hall, in Middlesex, for the third offence, as they called it.--The grand jury consulting together about finding the bill of indictment, could not well agree. And the justices giving them a check, one of the jurymen desired to know, by what law they ought to find a bill against any persons, without witnesses to testify the fact committed. To which answer was made by the court, that their records testified the crime or fact, and that such their record was a sufficient witness without the testimony of any man. And for a proof of this it was further said, ‘The records in Chancery serve as a sufficient testimony; and if it be so in Chancery, why not here?’ The jury having been twice upon this business, was sent up a third time; and Edward Shelton, the clerk, said he would go up also to help them, and so he did; it having been threatened, that if the jurymen did not find a bill, they should be fined. Nevertheless, at their return they answered, ‘No verdict.’ Whereupon the justices finding the jurymen not to answer their ends, took them apart, and examined them one by one, telling them that the only thing they were to look upon was, that they did assemble together above the number of five in company; which, according to what they said, their records showed. This made some of the jury comply; but others stood it out, and signified that in conscience they could not consent to what was required of them. But the major part complying with the justices, upon their threatening them, and the others being strongly pressed, the bill was, by a kind of force, accepted at length. But how hard a case this was to some, appeared by the mournful confession of one of the jury, who to ease his conscience published in print a small book, with the title of ‘The Wounded Heart, or The Juryman’s Offences,’ &c. in which he openly disapproved the fact, to which he had been induced by human fear. The pains had been so great to persuade the jury to bring in a verdict according to the mind of the court, that the clerk, as was reported, said, he had rather have given twenty pounds, than have been so troubled.

The next day the prisoners were brought to the bar, and William Proctor, of Gray’s Inn, sat as judge in the court. The questions and answers I pass by for brevity sake. One Hannah Trigg pleading she was innocent, was asked how old she was; to which she saying she was not sixteen years old; one of the justices did not stick to say, she told a lie; and that he thought the Quakers would not lie. In the meanwhile it appeared, that he only said so by guess to baffle her; for by a certificate of some that were present at her birth, (which was divulged in print,) it was proved that she, being the daughter of Timothy Trigg, was born at London on the 20th of the month called August, 1649; and so was but fifteen years of age, and dealt with against the law; which was the harder, because this maid falling sick, died in prison, after the sentence of banishment had been past upon her: which sentence was now pronounced against twelve persons, among whom were four maids; and four married women were condemned to a confinement of eleven months in Bridewell. The judge in the pronouncing the sentences was so disturbed in his mind, that ordering some to be transported to Virginia, and others to Barbadoes, he condemned some also to be sent to Hispaniola; at which the people were not a little surprised, for he made it plainly appear, that he did not consider what he said; since Hispaniola was no place in the dominions of the king of England: but he was so confounded, that he also accused the prisoners of having transgressed the laws of the commonwealth, forgetting that England was no more a commonwealth, as it was before the restoration of king Charles II.

On the 15th of October above forty of the prisoners called Quakers, were tried before the judges Hide and Keeling. To mention all the exhorbitances of this trial, which were not few, I count needless; for as to the questions and answers, and the passing of sentence, the reader may form to himself an idea of it from what hath been said already of the trial at Hertford, &c. A maid being asked, guilty, or not guilty, answered, ‘I never was taken at any seditious meeting or conventicle in my life.’ To which the judge said, ‘But, woman, were not you taken at the Bull and Mouth the 21st of August?’ She answered, ‘I am innocent in the sight of God and all good people.’ That this was true the judge did not deny, but said, ‘I believe that, woman, but you have transgressed a law.’ She replied, ‘As for the Bull and Mouth. I believe I have been there an hundred times, and if the Lord permit me life and liberty, I do not know but I may go there an hundred times more.’ The judge then saying, ‘Woman, will you plead or no, guilty or not guilty, or else I must pass sentence upon you.’ She answered, ‘The will of the Lord be done, I am innocent.’ Yet this could not avail her, though judge Hide had said a little before concerning the prisoners, ‘If they are innocent, then they are not guilty.’ But she was set by as mute, or pro confesso, as to the fact charged against her in the indictment. Others who complained of the unreasonableness of the proceedings, were hectored as impudent: and the jury showing themselves dissatisfied concerning the witnesses, judge Hide said to them, it was no untruth if a man did mistake in the time, and that his evidence was good, though he did not see one in the house: ‘For,’ said he, ‘if forty men be in a room, and one is brought out of the room to me, standing at the door, cannot I swear that he was in that room, if I see him come out? You must not make such scruples.’

In the meanwhile there were some among the witnesses who did not know the prisoners by face; so that there was reason enough to disprove their testimony. But whatever was objected, the business must go on: for though one of the witnesses declared that the meeting, from which the prisoners had been taken was peaceable; and though one of the prisoners said, that the law was made against seditious meetings, and that nothing of sedition had been proved against them: yet judge Keeling said, the act was made to prevent such meetings, because under colour and pretence of religion, plots and conspiracies might be carried on. And when a prisoner said, that he was at a peaceable godly meeting, and received much comfort there; the judge returned, ‘That is as much as we desire. You confess you were there; and though it was a peaceable meeting, yet it was an unlawful one.’ Another of the prisoners who pleaded that the law the court acted by was contrary to Magna Charta, and the ancient fundamental laws of the land, was answered by judge Hide, ‘If the king and parliament should make a law that two justices without a jury should adjudge a man to death for the third offence as a felon, without benefit of clergy, it would be a good law, and according to Magna Charta, and the law of the land; and we should be bound to execute it.’ It seems this judge, (who not long after was suddenly summoned hence to appear before the divine assizes,) was of opinion, that since the legislative power resided in the king and parliament, all that they resolved and enacted, must pass for good law. But if I should mention all the absurdities I meet with in these proceedings, when should I come to an end? True it is, that sometimes a show was made of pity: for judge Keeling said to two maids, ‘We are sorry that such young maids should be thus deluded.’ But because they would not promise to go to the public church, though they declared themselves ready to assist at divine service, they were deemed as guilty. Another prisoner being asked by judge Hide, whether he would go to church, answered, ‘If I have my liberty, I shall go to church.’ But when it appeared that he did not mean the established or public church, this promise could not save him. One Richard Poulton, a lad of fifteen years of age, who by a certificate showed, that he was not yet sixteen years old, and therefore no transgressor of the law, was asked, if he would swear he was not sixteen, just as if he could have remembered the time of his birth; to which he answered, that he was not brought up to swearing: and being asked, whether he would promise to go to church, he answered, he should promise no such thing. Then he was returned to the rest that were to be sentenced.

This was on the 17th of the aforesaid month; when nineteen persons, among which were some women, were condemned to banishment, and four married women to twelve months imprisonment in Bridewell. None of the judges it seems had a mind to pronounce sentence, and therefore they left this business to the city recorder. He then bidding the prisoners to hearken to the judgment of the court, spoke so softly, that he could not well be heard, which made one of the prisoners say, that he ought to speak louder, for they could not hear him. But he continuing to speak softly as before, two or three others of the prisoners told him, they could not tell what he said. To which he answered, he cared not whether they did or no; and then said, ‘Hearken to your sentence, You and every of you, shall be transported beyond the seas, the men to Barbadoes, and the women to Jamaica, being two of his majesty’s plantations, there to remain seven years.’ Thus the persecutors endeavoured to be rid of the Quakers: but though persecution now was very hot, yet they fainted not, neither were they in want of such vigilant assistants, as both by example and words continually encouraged them to faithfulness: who yet, (which was remarkable,) were not condemned to banishment, as many others.

Among these was Josiah Coale also, who about this time, as I have been told, was in prison at London; and both by writing, and by word of mouth, did exhort his fellow-believers to constancy: for, (when under confinement,) he betook himself to his pen, and recommended to his friends, that they would not forsake their meetings, though they were to undergo great sufferings, since it was God’s good pleasure to let their patience be tried. ‘And,’ said he, ‘that these afflictions come upon us is by God’s permission: who then shall gainsay him, or endeavour to reason with him about matters of so great a concern, since his way is hid from man.’ He also signified to them that this was done to try their faith, and that therefore they ought to continue bold, and persevere valiantly. ‘And though,’ said he, ‘great sufferings and afflictions attend us, yet my heart, praised be the Lord, is not troubled, neither hath fear seized me, because I see the intent of the Lord in it.’ And in one letter he spoke thus: ‘Friends, this know: that for the sake of the residue of the seed which is yet ungathered, is my life freely sacrificed up into the hand of the Lord; and ready and willing am I to lay it down for the testimony of God’s blessed truth, which he hath given me to hear, if thereunto I am called: for bonds and afflictions attend me daily, and I may say, we are in jeopardy of our lives daily: so let your prayer to God be for me, that I may be kept unto the end, to finish my testimony with joy, and in all things to bring glory and honour to the name of the Lord, who is over all, blessed for ever.’ This his Christian desire he obtained, as will be said in due place. It was a time of suffering; and those to whose share it fell, continued valiant: whilst others did not neglect to exhort the king and parliament to leave off persecution. Among these was William Bayly, who gave forth a very serious exhortation and warning against the persecution to the king and parliament, &c. beginning thus:

‘For the King and Parliament, &c.

‘FRIENDS,

‘The God of heaven hath put it into my heart to write a few words unto you, in the fear and dread of his name, and in the counsel of his own will, concerning the work which ye have taken in hand against him and his people; this is not the end and work for which the Lord God hath permitted you into the places of government and rule, in this nation, (nor the way for you to prosper, nor to prolong your days in the earth,) thus to persecute and afflict an innocent and harmless people, who are peaceable, and walk uprightly towards God and man; therein endeavouring, in all things, to keep their consciences void of offence, and who have no helper in the earth but the Lord alone; neither is their kingdom of this world, but they are verily the children and servants of the most high God, whom he hath gathered from amongst men, and from the kindness of the earth, to be the first fruits unto him, and to the Lamb in this age; and we are his, and not our own, he hath brought us, and redeemed us unto himself, and to him alone have we committed our innocent cause, and he hath undertaken to plead it for us, with all our adversaries; and no weapon formed against us shall ever prosper, but be broken to pieces.

‘Therefore friends, be awakened and open your eyes, and see what a stir and ado here is in this nation; to haul and drag up and down a company of tender, innocent, and harmless people, men and women, and children, from their peaceable meetings, who meet together in the fear and tender love of God, without any evil or bad intent toward any; but have good-will and compassion toward all men, even to the worst of our enemies, as the Lord bears us witness; and these are they that are driven as sheep to the slaughter, and thrown into your noisome jails, and prisons, and houses of correction; by rude and brutish people, your servants, whom you have set on work by your authority, till many of them have (patiently) suffered till death, whose innocent blood will assuredly be required at your hands, (though they shall not go free of the guilt, who have had the least hand in it, without speedy repentance.) And thus ye may see and read, how the disciples of Christ Jesus, are as sheep and Lambs in the midst of wolves in this age, and as a lily among thorns, and all this is only for obeying his commands, and for worshipping the everlasting invisible God, in the spirit, and in the truth, according to the Scriptures, the which, if you knew and understood, you would tremble to think what you have done against them, to cause so many of the little ones, which believe in Christ, so grievously to suffer, who said, it were better a millstone were hanged about his neck, and be drowned in the depth of the sea, that should offend one of these little ones, that believe in me; and as true as Christ Jesus suffered, and rose again, and as God liveth, who raised him from the dead, we are some of those his little ones that believe in him, who, (in derision and scorn in this age,) are called Quakers, as ye might call Moses, the prophets and apostles, (in days past,) who did quake and tremble at the presence of the Lord, who is the same now as ever he was, though the ungodly know him not, nor his power: and we are of that poor and afflicted people, mentioned Zeph. iii. 12. 19. “Whose trust is in the name of the Lord, who will undo all that afflict them.”

‘But what shall I say unto you; if ye will not, or cannot believe our faithful testimony, (or the testimony of God through us,) and the innocency of our cause and sufferings, neither will ye believe, if one should rise from the dead and declare it unto you; for many tender visitations, and timely warnings, and gentle reprehensions have you had, from the pure spirit of the Lord God, both from his witness in your own consciences, and from his faithful servants, and messengers, who have written and declared unto you in his name and power in this your day. And as for my part, who am one of the least of the thousands of Israel, I could willingly have been silent as toward you at this time, but the Lord, whom I serve in my spirit, hath laid it upon me to warn you once more, for whose sakes I have borne a burden, in the true sight and sense of your sad estate, and of the day of thick darkness, wrath, and distress, which is hastening upon you from the Almighty.

‘Wherefore be not proud nor rebellious, but hear, and obey the word of the Lord; for thus saith the Lord God that made heaven and earth, let my innocent people alone, and touch them not any more, as ye have done; for they are mine, and I have called them, and chosen them, and redeemed them; they are my jewels, which I am making up, they shall show forth my glory before men to the whole world; I have anointed them, and I will preserve them and deliver them, and crown them with an everlasting salvation. I will rebuke kings and rulers for their sakes, and distress nations, and dethrone the mighty from their seats that rise up against them, as I have done; and let my everlasting gospel have a free passage in these nations; and do not reproach and afflict my servants and messengers so any more, whom I have chosen and sent to preach and declare the way of life and salvation to the ends of the earth, but bow your ear and your heart unto them and their testimony, that it may be well with you, and prolong your days; for he that blesseth them shall be blessed, and he that curseth them shall be cursed, and every hand shall wither that opposeth them, as hath been, and shall be, henceforth for ever: I the Lord have spoken it.

‘But and if you will not hear, but will still persist, and go on, as ye have done, to oppress my heritage, and harmless people, and make war and opposition against my power and truth, and thus set yourselves and your power against me, the living God, I will bring you down suddenly, to the astonishment of nations, and I will cut your day short, and turn your pleasures into howling and lamentation, and shame and contempt shall cover your memorial as a garment. Thus will I work for the deliverance of my seed, and none shall let it; for the year of my redeemed is come, and the day of vengeance is in my heart, to plead its cause with all flesh.

‘Therefore, consider your ways, and see what ye are doing, and what the effect of this your work will be; ye are but men, and the children of men, who were but as yesterday; your breath also is in your nostrils, and your life is but a vapour, which will soon vanish away: you labour in the very fire, and bring forth wind, which blows up the flame of that which will consume you, and deprive you of all happiness for ever: O that ye had but hearts to consider it! For the more you strive with the Lord, and oppress his people, the more will they multiply, and grow stronger and stronger: and you shall wax weaker and weaker, and your works shall be your heavy burden; for life and immortality is risen, and the power of God is stirring in the hearts of thousands, and light and understanding, the excellent spirit which was in Daniel, is breaking forth like the lightning, which shines out of the east into the west, in the sight of many people, whereby they know, it is the day of the coming of the Son of Man, with power and great glory, that every eye may see him, and they that have pierced him shall mourn bitterly: so, your labour is in vain, and your works for the fire, and your striving with your Maker to no purpose, as to effect your end and aim. And of these things you have been often forewarned, and the Lord hath been very long suffering towards you, in sparing you thus long, and suffering you thus far to act against him and his dear people; and his mercy and forbearance hath been evidently showed in a large measure unto you, in deferring his heavy judgments thus long, which must have been confessed to be just upon you. And will you thus requite the Lord, by increasing your tasks of oppression upon his tender innocent people? O unwise and ungrateful generation! Hath not God yet showed you, that you should do justly, and love mercy, and walk humbly? But are these your fruits and practices, fruits of mercy or justice? Or if there be any tincture or spark of love, or humility in them, let God’s witness, the light in all your consciences, and in people, answer. I tell you plainly, that such fruits and doings among you, that profess yourselves Christians, have made the very name of Christ and Christianity, a proverb of reproach through nations, and have caused the God of heaven to be blasphemed; and how could it be otherwise, seeing you who profess the most knowledge of God, and have talked of converting the heathen, as some of your leaders have done, are found the least in the life and fruits thereof. But to what would they convert them? to pride and swearing, and drunkenness, and oppression, and all manner of excess, and to persecute people for their good conscience? They have no need of that; for, some of them have said, they did not use to swear and be drunk, &c. till they came among the Christians, and learned of them; they did not do so in their own country: ye are so far from converting them, being out of the life of what ye profess and talk of yourselves, that the very heathen or infidels, (as ye call them,) do judge and condemn you, who are making inquiry, concerning these your proceedings against this harmless people, among whom some of them have been kindly entreated, who visited them at the Lord’s requiring, though contrary in opinion and religion; and this doth rise up in judgment against you.

‘But, friends, have you yourselves been under sufferings, and some of you been driven into strange countries, or lands, for your cause, as it was called? Nay, did not the king himself once flee for refuge to a tree, to save himself from his enemies’ hands? If not, why are there such representations made of it, in so many places in the nation? And was not this as great a mercy and deliverance from God, so to obscure and preserve him, from them who pursued him, and many of you also? And are these things forgotten? Can mercy be loved, except it be remembered? And do you remember and love his mercies, by doing justly, and walking humbly with him, as he doth require? Or do you boast in vain glory, as if your own arm had done it, or your own strength or deserts had delivered you? If so, then God must needs be forgotten, and his mercies trodden under foot, and his visitations and counsels cast behind your back; and so, all that forget God, shall be torn in pieces, and there shall be none to deliver them, as it is written.

‘And were these your sufferings, which you sustained by them ye opposed, unjust and unequal? And if you should say, they were: then I say, it is much more unjust and very unequal in the sight of God, and all sober people that fear him, for you, thus to inflict such cruel sufferings as imprisoning, and stifling up to death in your noisome jails and holes among thieves and murderers, and to pronounce sentence of banishment upon an innocent, harmless, peaceable people, that do not oppose you in the least, with any outward force, neither do so much as the thoughts of it lodge within our breasts, as the Lord God knoweth, who hath called us to peace, but on the contrary have sought and do seek your welfare and happiness, both in this world, and in the world to come, which in time shall be manifest to the whole earth.

‘And if you say, your sufferings were unjust and unequal, though you did oppose them, and make war against them so long as you could, because they deprived you of your rights and privileges, and just liberties, and natural birthrights, &c. which were your due to enjoy, as being free-born of the nation: then how much more is it unjust, and unequal, and unrighteous, thus to inflict sufferings upon your friends, and oppress your peaceable neighbours, who are free-born people of the same nation, and do not oppose you, but are tender towards you, as aforesaid, and subject to all wholesome just laws, and tributary to you, for which causes we ought to have our just liberty, and enjoy the privilege of our birthright, which is our due so long as we live peaceably and harmlessly, but if it be not a privilege to be pleaded for, then are all your own grounds and reasons, and cause, without a foundation, and you and the whole nation may be swept away by any that are able to do it, without being charged with injustice or oppression, which is contrary to the just balance, the light of Christ in all people’s consciences. And as we are the dearly beloved people of the most high God, who doth bless us with his presence, and manifest his everlasting love and good-will towards us daily, and overshadows us with his power and tender mercies, whom he hath gathered out of the evil ways and spirit of this world, and all the vanities thereof, unto himself, to walk with him who is invisible, in the upright, blameless, undefiled life, in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation; I say, considering these things, how greatly and unrighteously do our sufferings appear to all sober people, whose eyes are open, and will be more open to discern and savour the bitterness of that proud, envious, wrathful spirit, which thus hath acted and deceived you: and its end is numbered by them that have wisdom from above.

‘For friends, set aside the reproachful name of Quakers, and the other titles of derision and scorn, which the envious and blood-thirsty spirit hath invented to render the people of God odious in all ages, and tell me what ye have justly to charge against this people, whom you so furiously pursue to the dens and caves of the earth, to the loss of the lives of so many of them; by which children are made fatherless, and tender-hearted women, mournful widows, and let it come forth to open view, and declare it abroad, as your articles against them, to the whole world, and speak the truth, and nothing but the truth, as you use to tell one another, that all people may rightly know and understand the very ground and most secret cause, who do inquire, of these your present proceedings against them; for notice is taken by many, and ere long it must be manifest to all men, as the folly and madness of Jannes and Jambres were, that withstood Moses; for you withstand no less than him of whom Moses wrote; who said, “I am the light of the world,” against whom Saul was once exceedingly mad, and had thoughts to do very much against that way, which was then as well as now, called Heresy, till the light of Jesus, whom he persecuted, met with him, with his letters, or warrants, to haul men and women to prison, as your servants do, and smote him to the ground, and made him tremble, who, from that time, became such a Quaker, as you now persecute and imprison till death; but the light of Jesus Christ, the Son of the living God, will meet with all persecutors, and oppressors about religion, let them be never so mad, or think they ought to do much against that way, they call Heresy, as some of you have said, who have made a mock at the light, even publicly, which many took notice of, and even marvelled at such blasphemy in an open court, against the Saviour of the world: and there is no other name under heaven by which men shall be saved, but him who said, John, vii. 7. 12. and 16. “I am the light of the world, who lighteth every man that cometh into the world.”

‘And this is he, in whom we have believed, and of whom we have declared, and must declare and hear testimony, as long as we have a being; and the world shall know that our testimony is true; and for his name and truth only, do we thus patiently suffer the contradictions of sinners, as our brethren did by the zealous Jews in ages past; but you are not so zealous for Christ’s law and commandments, as they were of Moses and the prophets, which Christ ends and fulfils, who thought it was not lawful to do good on the Sabbath-day, as to heal the sick, for then would you “Do to all men, as ye would they should do to you;” for his law runs thus, “And be ye merciful,” &c. and “Love you your enemies; and swear not at all,” &c. as ye may read.

‘But behold, how both Jews and Gentiles take notice, and are ashamed and grieved, to hear and see what a deal of bad works you do, even on your Sabbath-day, as some of you call it, and how you profane the day of your worship, with your cattle, and servants, which are within your gates, what riding and running, and toiling, in rage and fury, like madmen, sweating, and swearing, and cursing, and dragging, and hauling the innocent members of Christ’s body out of their peaceable meetings, into your jails and holes; on your day of worship. But are your sacrifices, ye offer at that time, accepted? Have ye peace whilst these things are acting in your name, and by your authority? If you have peace and pleasure therein, let me tell you from the righteous God, you are hardened in your sins against him, and he will break your peace speedily, and turn your pleasure into bitterness and lamentation: and his innocent people’s meetings shall stand, and be increased; and their way shall prosper, and the truth shall spread and prevail, and have dominion over all nations; and their enemies shall fall and be confounded, let them strive what they can against them; for they are of God, and not of man, or the will of man, and they seek his glory and not their own; and such as abide faithful to him, shall triumph over all the principalities, and powers of the rulers of the darkness of this world, and make a show openly of the victory over all that do or may oppose them; for their life is immortal, and the Lord of heaven and earth is their strength, who is with them as a mighty terrible one; therefore shall their persecutors fall before them.

‘And let me tell you again, that by these your unreasonable, and unjust dealings, the understandings of thousands are the more opened; and the tender, sober part, or principle in them, doth feel the weight and burden of this grievousness, which you have prescribed, and do so eagerly pursue, to the imprisoning to death so many innocent persons and free-born people of this nation, besides hundreds are liable to the same, which yet remain in your prisons. And your unnatural, cruel sentence of banishment, to separate dear and tender husbands from their dear and tender wives, and tender children, and little innocent babes: Oh! how do you rend the bowels of the meek of the earth, whom God hath blessed? What is become of all your promises of liberty for tender consciences? God’s curse and vengeance will come upon you, and his plagues will pursue you to destruction if ye proceed in this work; and your wives shall be widows, and your children fatherless; the Lord hath spoken it. If you had the hearts of men, or of flesh, ye would be afraid, and blush at the very thoughts hereof; my heart and soul melts within me, and I am even bowed down, with cries to God, in my spirit, to think of the hardness of your hearts.

* * * * *

‘God Almighty, cut short thy work in righteousness, and shorten the days of oppression and cruelty for thine elect’s sake; which cry night and day unto thee, and make known thy name and power to the ends of the earth; and let the heathen hear, and fear, and bow to thy righteous sceptre, and let the kings of the earth lay down their crowns at the feet of the Lamb, that through thy righteous judgments they may partake of thy tender mercies, which endure for ever; that their eyes may be no longer withholden, nor blinded by the god of this world, the power and prince of darkness, but that they may come to see thee, who art invisible, and enjoy the same precious life of pure unfeigned love, which abounds in the hearts of thy hidden ones; and receive thy peaceable wisdom, to be governed, and to govern therein; then would they surely know, that we are thine, and confess to thy glorious truth, and speak good of thy name, and magnify thy power, and no longer count the blood of thy everlasting covenant, (wherewith we are sanctified,) as an unholy thing.

‘But, O thou righteous, holy, pure, eternal God, art unknown unto all them that sit in darkness, and dwell in the spirit of enmity against thee and thy people; though thou art come near to judgment, according to the promise, Mal. iii. 5. And thy way of life and salvation is hid from them, therefore they hate us without a cause, and thus evilly entreat us in the darkness of their minds, and in the ignorance and hardness of their hearts; for which my soul doth pity them, and even entreat thee for them, that if possible their eyes may be yet opened, and their hearts yet softened, and their spirit humbled, that they may see what they are doing in the dark, and consider the effect of their work, which will assuredly follow: and if thy warnings and gentle visitations will not humble them, then let thy judgments awaken them, and bring them down, and humble them, that they may perceive something of what thou art doing, in these latter days, and art resolved to do to the ends of the earth, though the whole world should gather and band together to oppose thy work and people; for thou hast begun, and thou wilt go through and perfect thy work; thou wilt raise thy seed, and gather thine elect from the four winds, and bring them from the ends of the earth, and scatter the proud in the vain imaginations of their hearts; and thou wilt break thy way through all that oppose thee in this the day of thy mighty power, in which thou art arisen, as a giant to run his race, to finish transgression, and make an end of sin, and bring in and establish everlasting righteousness; that the kingdom of this world may become thy kingdom, and of thy Christ, as thou hast promised, and art now fulfilling; glory and honour, and thanks, and everlasting praises be to thy glorious name, world without end. Amen.

‘So friends, ye are and have been warned again and again by the faithful messengers and servants of the Lord, in love to your souls; and you are left without excuse, if never words more should be mentioned unto you; by which ye might perceive, how the Lord doth strive with you, that ye might repent, and be saved from the wrath to come, though some of you feel little of it in your own consciences; but his spirit will not always strive with you: for if you will not believe them, but slight and reject them, and neither make conscience of what hath proceeded out of your own mouth, nor regard to perform your own words and public engagements, in that which is just, which the Lord requireth of you, nor remember his by-past and present mercies, and long suffering towards you, but trample all under foot; I say, if it be thus with you, and you are resolved to go on, you will wholly be given up, and be exceedingly hardened, and grow desperate in cruelty and oppression against God, and his truth and people, till your whole earth is filled with violence; and then, (as true as God liveth,) will the flood come upon you, and ye shall fall after the manner of Egypt; and the weight of the dreadful judgments, due for all your abominations and cruelties, shall sink you down into the pit that is bottomless, and that suddenly, as the Lord hath spoken.

By his servant, who is a lover of the welfare of all your souls, and I am thus far clear of all your blood,

WILLIAM BAYLY.’

Written in the Tenth month, 1664, at Hartford.

Again, in December, twelve of those called Quakers, were condemned to banishment; for it was resolved to go on, not regarding what George Bishop gave forth in print, and caused to be delivered to the king and the members of parliament, being as followeth:

‘To the King and both Houses of Parliament, thus saith the Lord.

‘Meddle not with my people, because of their conscience to me, and banish them not out of the nation because of their conscience; for if ye do, I will send my plagues upon you, and ye shall know that I am the Lord.

Written in obedience to the Lord, by his servant,

GEORGE BISHOP.’

Bristol, the 29th of the Fifth month, 1664.

The fulfilling of this prediction we shall see; for within a short time a war ensued with the Dutch, and the pestilence appeared at London; but before it broke out, yet more of the imprisoned Quakers were condemned to banishment, viz. two and thirty persons, both men and women, who were sentenced by the court on the 6th, 14th, and 15th of December; for whatever they said in defence of themselves, proved ineffectual. One asked, If we meet really to worship God, must we suffer for that? And judge Hide answered, ‘Yes, that you must.’ But judge Keeling, to mend the matter a little, said, ‘You shall not suffer for worshipping God, but for being at an unlawful assembly contrary to the law.’ Another said, ‘I meet to worship the eternal God in Spirit, as he persuades my heart and conscience; and must I be condemned to banishment for that?’ ‘Yes, yes,’ said judge Keeling, ‘for the law is against it.’ To which judge Twisden added, ‘He hath confessed that he was there to worship God; and their worship is contrary to the liturgy of the church of England.’ Thus we see, if there was but evidence that the prisoners had been at a meeting, this was counted sufficient to condemn them. A woman being asked, what she had to say to the evidence given, answered, ‘Be it known unto you all, if I had as many bodies as hairs on my head, I could lay them all down for the living eternal truth of the living God.’ After all the prisoners had been called to the bar, they were at length sentenced to be transported to Jamaica, and to remain there seven years.

This year in September died my mother, Judith Zinspenning at Amsterdam in Holland, where she was born of religious parents among the Baptists, into whose society her father Conrad Zinspenning was entered in a singular manner; of which, though it may seem somewhat out of my road, yet because of the remarkable steps of Providence appearing therein, I will give a short account. He being of Cologne in Germany, was bred a Papist; and after he had past the Latin schools, his father thrust him into a cloister; (for Papists used to think it meritorious to offer up one of their children to the clergy.) But he found the monastical life so much against his inclination, that his father dying before the probation year was expired, he begged his mother to assist him in his intention to leave the fraternity, since he was not yet bound by vow. She complied with his desire, and so he got out, and then he was put to a trade. After he had served his time, he resolved to travel, and first took a turn to Holland, from thence to France, and then to Italy, and the metropolis Rome, and so back again. Having been a lay-friar, he got letters of recommendation to such monasteries as were of the order of those monks he had lived with; that so he might freely find lodging there for sometime. And because in Holland there are no cloisters, he was recommended to some eminent Papists at Amsterdam: whither being come, he liked the place so well, that he resolved to stay there sometime; which he did, after having found employment. And thus getting into acquaintance, he came in time to live with a Baptist, who employed him as a journeyman. He never till now met with the New Testament, in which he began to read so eagerly, that the Lord co-operating by his good Spirit, his understanding came to be opened, so that he got a clear sight of the superstition and errors of the popish religion, in which he was trained up; and then entering into discourse with his master, was persuaded to renounce popery, and to enter into the communion of the Baptists. This broke all his measures concerning his intended travels; and then resolving to settle where he was, he took to wife one Catharine de Mol, a virtuous maid, whose father was one of the primitive Baptists that arose under the persecution in Flanders, from whence he with many more came to settle in Holland.

From these parents my mother descended, who was religiously inclined even from her youth, and became so well versed in the Holy Scriptures; and was so diligent in writing down so much of the sermons she heard, as she could retain by memory; that her father said sometimes, ‘It is a pity that this girl is not a boy, who then in time might become an eminent instrument in the church.’ After she was come to age, though much inclined to lead a single life, yet at length she was married to my father, Jacob Williamson Sewel, a very religious young man; whose father William Sewel, from Kidderminster in Worcestershire, having been one of those Brownists, that left England and settled in Holland, married a Dutch wife at Utrecht, where my father was born; who being come to age, endeavoured to walk in the narrow way, and conversed mostly with the strictest professors of those days. And both he and my mother came in time to grow dissatisfied with that worship to which they were joined; yet in clearness of understanding my mother exceeded my father; nevertheless she continued dissatisfied as well as he, with the common way of worship she belonged to; so that oftentimes, when she came from the meeting-house, she resolved not to go there any more, because she reaped no real and substantial benefit by it. But then the first day of the week being come again, she was in a straight, thinking that however it was, yet by the apostle we were exhorted not to forsake the assemblies. In this irresolute condition she continued a long time; and being incumbered with the cares of the family, she was not so much at liberty for performing religious duties, (viz. prayers, reading of, and meditating on the Holy Scriptures, visiting the sick, and such like pious exercises,) as she was before she was married; which made her wish sometimes she had never entered into matrimony, and that she might live to enjoy again that peace and quiet which once she had. But she knew not yet that it was the love of the Lord thus working upon her, to draw her off from transitory things. In this state she was often seized with grief and sorrow, so that she counted herself the most miserable of women; for neither husband nor children, nor any outward enjoyments, could afford her any pleasure; but all her desire was to attain to an undefiled state, in which she might live an unblameable life, not only before men, but also before God; for feeling there was yet something in her which was evil and polluting, she struggled to overcome it; but all her labour proved in vain. This made her cry earnestly to the Lord as one in great danger; and her doubts whether it was possible to attain to perfection increased. But in this forlorn state it pleased the Lord to manifest himself to her in some measure, though she knew not then it was he. And often she cried out, ‘Lord what will it avail me to know that thou hast sent thy Son into the world, and that he was crucified and died for the sins of the world, if I am not saved by it. Lord forgive my sins, and have mercy upon me.’ And once when she was alone, pouring out her heart before the Lord, he made himself known to her, and spoke to her soul, that if she would be perfect, she must follow the light in every respect. Having heard this, she desired to know what this light was; and the Lord showed her, that the light was the life of men. This she understood in some degree, and so separated herself as much as ever she could conveniently from conversation, endeavouring to live retiredly. And having about this time heard Dr. Galenus Abrahams, an eminent Baptist teacher, preach upon the parable of the seedsman; that which he spoke concerning the good ground, and how the ground must be fitted by the Lord’s working, so affected her, that she resolved to rest from all her own labour; and so she left frequenting the Baptists’ assemblies any more.

In this retired state she continued a good while, and at length came to hear William Ames preach; and he declaring the light of Christ as the true teacher, this agreed with what had already been told her inwardly by the immediate manifestations of the Lord to her. And thus she came fully to be convinced that this was the truth she had so long desired to know. Now she saw that it was her duty to give up all, and to keep nothing back: for she had already seen, that if she would be Christ’s disciple, she must forsake all, even her own self. But a fear of the cross was no small impediment to her; yet now she gave up to obedience; and saw that her former performances had been defective; and now all came into remembrance. This caused sorrow; but she prayed to the Lord both night and day, and then he manifested his power by which she was led out of the darkness and bondage, wherein she had been held captive; and her supplication was to the Lord, that it might not be with her as formerly, to wit, sometimes great zeal, and then coldness again; but that she might continue in fervency of spirit. After a long time of mourning the Lord manifested his kindness to her, by which she came to be quickened and refreshed; and by the judgments of the Lord all was narrowly searched out, so that nothing could be hid; and a separation was made between the precious and the vile, and death passed over all. But thus to part with all her own wisdom, and forsake her great attainments, was no small cross: yet she became willing to hear it, although many violent tempests rose to draw her off, if possible, from closely adhering to the beloved of her soul; yet she was not forward in imitation: for my father, who when he was convinced of the truth preached by W. Ames and W. Caton, soon left off the common way of salutation, would sometimes persuade her by arguments to do so too; but she told him, if the leaving off of that custom was a thing the Lord required, she believed he would show it her in his own time, because she was given up to follow his requirings. And so the Lord did in due time; and she continuing zealously faithful, he was pleased after my father’s death to give her a public testimony, and she became eminently gifted: for her natural abilities surpassing the ordinary qualifications of her sex, and becoming sanctified by the Spirit of the Lord, could not but produce good effects; and she came to be much visited and sought to by professors; and the Fifth monarchy-men applauded her because of her pathetical admonitions. But she was above flattery, and trampled upon it. Nay, she was so well esteemed, that I remember, having some movings to visit the collegians in their meeting, after one of them had left off speaking, she stood up, and said, that she had something upon her mind to speak to them by way of exhortation. But knowing that they suffered not women to speak amongst them, she was not willing bluntly to intrude herself; but desired their leave, which they readily granted, and one of their chief speakers said to her, ‘It is true, friend, we do not allow women to speak in the church; yet we hear that respect to you, that we give you the liberty of speaking.’ And then she cleared herself, having formerly been a frequenter of that assembly. And when she had done speaking, I do not remember she was contradicted by any; but one of their speakers concluded the meeting with a prayer.

Before that time she wrote and published a small book to those of her former society, which she called a Serious Reproof of the Flemish Baptists: in which she dealt very plainly with them; and showed how they were apostatized. She wrote also some other treatises, extant in print; and was much beloved and well esteemed by English friends, as appears by several letters written to her from England, and yet extant. Those of her own nation often resorted to her for instruction, she being so well exercised in the way of the Lord, that she was able to speak a word in season to various conditions. Many times she visited the meetings at Alkmaar, Haarlem and Rotterdam; and was often invited by her friends to come and edify them with her gift. She wrote also many letters for edification and admonition to particular persons, and some epistles also to the church. But it pleased the Lord to take her early to himself. When she fell sick, she soon had a sense that she was not like to recover, and therefore spoke much to me in private, and acquainted me with several things touching myself, and relating to her outward estate. And the night before she departed, she called me to her bed-side, and exhorted me very fervently to depart from evil, and to fear the Lord: which by the mercy of God in time, made very deep impressions on my mind; so that still I find reason to bless the name of the Lord for having been pleased that I was the son of such an excellent mother: who early in the morning when she felt death approaching, called me up out of my bed, and sent me to her brother, and to W. Caton, to come and see her; and I had hardly been returned a quarter of an hour before she departed this life, and slept in peace, to my great grief then; though afterwards, when I came to years of discerning, I saw reason to believe that it was not without a singular providence that the Lord had taken her away: for one had long continued to be an importunate suitor to her, who in time lost his integrity. To give a small instance of her true zeal for God, I will insert here the following epistle she wrote to her friends, to stir up the pure mind in them.

An Epistle to the Friends of Truth.

‘Grace and peace be multiplied among you, my dearly and much beloved friends, you that have received a blessing from God the heavenly Father in Christ Jesus, the Lord of glory; who by his unspeakable love, and his unchangeable light, hath drawn you off from the imaginary worships, and brought you in measure to know him who was from the beginning. Dear friends, keep in the light by which ye are enlightened, and in the knowledge of God, which every one hath received for himself; watching against the seducings of Satan; that your eyes may be kept open, lest deceit should prevail in any of you, by which truth might lose its splendour, and the brightness of the Lord become darkened.

‘I write these things to you in true love, and though but young, yet as one that takes care for you; for the Lord knows how often ye are in my remembrance; desiring for you, that ye may not only know the truth, but that ye may be found to be living witnesses of it: for I, knowing the preciousness of it, cannot but desire that others may also participate of the same; labour, therefore, for it, my friends, that so, when the Lord comes and calls to an account, every one may be found faithful according to what he hath received: for this is the talent which the Lord hath given, viz. the knowledge of him who is true, and who rewardeth every one according to his deeds: but the negligent and slothful servant said that his Lord was an hard man, and that he gathered where he had not strewed, and this was his condemnation: for the Lord said, “Thou knewest that I was an austere man; wherefore then gavest not thou my money into the bank, that at my coming I might have required mine own with usury?” Mind these things, my beloved friends, ye that have an ear to hear, and dig after this parable in yourselves; for we all have received talents, some more, and others less. Let therefore every one be faithful to the Lord, according to what he hath received; for truly some of you, I believe, have received five talents. Let it but be duly considered and seen in the light of the Lord, what knowledge ye have had of the eternal God beyond many, even when ye were yet in darkness: how often hath the Lord appeared, and clearly made manifest himself? And how abundantly hath he made it known in the heart, that he it was who was worthy to be feared and served? Certainly that is a great and weighty talent, and therefore the Lord may say justly, what could I have done more to my vineyard? O my friends, besides all this, he hath caused his eternal light to shine into our hearts, whereby we have seen the corrupted ways of the world, and paths leading to death. This, I say, the Lord hath showed us by his eternal light: glory and praises be given to our God for ever.

‘Dear friends, go on in that in which ye have begun; for I can hear witness for the Lord, that his love hath been abundantly shed abroad upon us, without respect of persons: because those that fear him, and work righteousness, are acceptable to him; and he makes his truth manifest among us, and causeth his peace and mercy to rest upon us. It is true, that Satan doth not rest to scatter this, and to sow doubts and unbelief in our hearts; but we keeping close to the Lord, are preserved from his snares; and happy is he who hath found a place where he is freed from tempests: but before this place be found, there are many hidden rocks that may be struck on, not unknown to me. And therefore I have true compassion on those who are not past them all yet; for shipwreck may easily be suffered on any of these.

‘Yet in all this danger there is something on which we may rely safely, and to which we may trust, being as a beacon, viz. the light shining into our hearts, though it be sometimes but as a spark, and so small, in regard of the manifold seducings, that it can hardly be discerned. Here then is no small grief and anguish; here all the mercies of the Lord, which formerly we enjoyed abundantly, are called in question, or doubted of; here is danger, and yet certainty; for by not sinning, the beacon is minded, and by relying on a true hope to be saved, we are preserved in the tempest. I write these things for the information of those that are travelling towards a city that hath a foundation, and whose builder and maker is God; for to such my love is extended, and my desire to the Lord for them is, that they may be kept by his power, to remain standing at his coming.

‘Dear friends, keep your meetings in the fear of the Lord, and have a care that your minds are not drawn out to hear words outwardly; but stand in the cross to that which desireth refreshment from without: and when at any time ye feel but little refreshment, let it not enter into your hearts that the Lord is not mindful of you; but centre down into yourselves, in the pure light, and stand still therein: then it may be ye will find the cause why the presence of the Lord is departed from you for some time; and ye putting away the cause, shall enjoy the Lord again to your comfort.

‘May God Almighty preserve you all by his power, lest any strife or discord be found among you; and may you grow up in love, and thereby be obliged to hear each other’s burdens; and let no transitory things cumber your hearts, but be resigned to the Lord; for that to which we are called, is not to be compared to that which is transitory, or perishing; since it is a treasure that is everlasting, and to which the world, and all that is in it, is but as dung; because the most glorious part of it is but vanity of vanities. O, my friends, let none be stopped by that which is an impediment to entering into the kingdom of heaven; but strive all to enter the narrow gate; and search every one of you your own hearts, with the light ye are enlightened with, which shall manifest your own states to you; and keeping there, it shall multiply your peace, and every one shall find therein his own teacher, as those have experienced who sought the Lord with all their heart. Now the God of all mercies, who alone is immortal, keep you and us altogether to the end; that so in these dangerous times we may remain standing, to the glory of his great name. O friends, keep out craftiness, and enter not readily into discourse with those that are out of the truth; for they speak in their own wills, and are crafty, and, knowing no bridle to their mind, it produceth that by which the simple and innocent are caught; but stand ye rather, and keep in that wherein ye see their subtilty; for then, though ye may not have a word to apologize for yourselves, yet ye shall be above them.

‘This is written from me, a young plant, in love to you, according to the gift received from the Lord. My salutation is to you all in the light of truth.

JUDITH ZINSPENNING.’

In the year 1664 came forth a small book in print, to the king, and both houses of parliament, wherein were set forth, not only the violent persecution almost over all England, with the names of persons, places, and cases, which indeed were woful, and some bloody; but it was also represented, that there were at that time in prison above six hundred of those called Quakers, merely for religion’s sake.

1665.

In the month called January, in the year 1664-5, thirty-six of that persuasion, among which were eight women, were condemned to be transported to Jamaica. The jury not being so forward to declare the prisoners guilty as the court desired, were persuaded however by the threatenings of judge Keeling, the recorder Wild, and the boisterous Richard Brown, to do what was demanded of them.

On the 18th and 22d of the next month, thirty-four of the said people were sentenced to be carried to Jamaica, and five to Bridewell. The manner of their trial I pass by with silence, to avoid prolixity. Those that were tried on the 18th were sentenced by judge Wharton; and those on the 22d by judge Windham, who said to Anne Blow, who declared, that the fear of the Lord being upon her heart, she durst not conform to any thing that was unrighteous, ‘Anne Blow, I would show you as much favour as the court will allow you, if you will say that you will go no more to that seditious meeting,’ meaning the Bull-and-Mouth. To which she answered, ‘Wouldest thou have me sin against that of God in my own conscience? if I were set at liberty to day, if the Lord required it of me, I should go to the Bull-and-Mouth to-morrow.’

Concerning one John Gibson, the said judge spoke to the jury in this manner: ‘Gentlemen, although it is true, as this Gibson saith, that it cannot be proved that they were doing any evil at the Bull-and-Mouth; yet it was an offence for them to be met there, because in process of time there might be evil done in such meetings: therefore this law was made to prevent them.’ By this we may see with what specious colours the persecutors cloaked their actions. I find among my papers, a letter of John Furly, and Walter Miers, (both of whom I knew well,) mentioning, that some of the jury, for refusing to give such a verdict as was required of them, were fined in great sums, and put into prison, there to remain till they should pay the fine.

Having now said thus much of sentencing, it grows time to speak of the execution thereof.

Some of the persons ordered for banishment, fell sick, and died in prison; some became apostates, and some were redeemed by their relations that were not Quakers; but yet a considerable number was, though with great pains, brought on ship-board, to be transported to the West Indies. We have seen already how those that were sentenced at Hertford, by judge Orlando Bridgman, having been put ashore by the master of the ship, returned. And it was not long after, that three of their friends, being on board the ship the Many-fortune of Bristol, were also set on shore with a certificate from the master of the ship, signed by him and seven of his men, wherein they complained of their adversity, and said, that God had said as it were in their hearts. “Accursed be the man that separates husband and wife; and he who oppresseth the people of God, many plagues will come upon him.”

But the first of those called Quakers, who really tasted banishment, were Edward Brush, and James Harding, who were banished, not only out of London, where they as citizens had as much right to live as the chiefest magistrates, but also out of their native country, contrary to the right of a free-born Englishman: these, with one Robert Hays, were on the 24th of the month called March, early in the morning fetched from Newgate in London, and brought to Blackfriars’ stairs, where they were put into a boat, and so carried down to Gravesend, and there had on board a ship. Hardly any warning had been given to these prisoners; and Robert Hays being sickly, had taken some physic, which had not done working; and since it was very cold that morning, and he had got nothing to eat before he came to Gravesend, he was seized in the ship with so severe sickness, that he died of it, and then his corpse was carried to London, and there buried. The other two were carried to Jamaica, where, by the providence of God, in time it fared well with them, and Edward Brush lived to return into England. It was remarkable, that not long after these persons were banished, the pestilence broke out at London, first of all in the house of a meal-man in Bearbinder lane, next door to the house where the said Edward lived, which by some was thought worthy of being taken notice of; since that house was the first which was shut because of the sickness.

With the other prisoners they had more trouble and pains, because no shipmasters could be found that would carry them: wherefore an embargo was laid on all merchantmen, with order that none should go down the river without having a pass from the Admiral; and this they would give to no master going to the West Indies, unless he made promise to carry some Quakers along with him to the place to which they were banished. Whatever any masters spoke against this, intimating that there was a law, according to which no Englishman might be carried out of his native country against his mind, was in vain. At length by force they got one to serve their turn; and then seven persons that were sentenced to banishment, were, on the 18th of the month called April, carried from Newgate to Blackfriars’ stairs, and so in a boat to Gravesend. But in the meantime the pestilence increased, and not long after judge Hide, who had been very active in persecuting, was, with many others, suddenly taken away out of this life; for he having been seen in the morning at Westminster in health, as to outward appearance, it was told in the afternoon that he was found dead in his chamber; being thus summoned to appear and give account of his deeds before a higher court than ever he presided in.

Yet transportation was not come to a stand; first, as hath been said, three persons, next seven, and on the 16th of the month called May, eight were carried down the river to Gravesend, and put on ship-board; but as the number of those that were carried away was heightened, so also the number of those that died of the pestilence much more increased. But notwithstanding this scourge from Heaven, transportation continued; for a master of a ship was found at length, who had said, as was reported, that he would not stick to transport even his nearest relations. And so an agreement was made with him, that he should take between fifty and sixty Quakers into his ship, and carry them to the West Indies. Of these eight or ten at a time were brought to the water-side, and so with boats or barges carried to the ship, which lay at anchor in the Thames, in Bugbey’s-hole, a little beyond Greenwich. Many of these prisoners, among which several women, not showing themselves ready to climb into the ship, lest it should seem as if they were instrumental to their transportation, were hoisted up with the tackle; and the sailors being unwilling to do this work, and saying, that if they were merchants’ goods, they should not be unwilling to hoist them in, the officers took hold of the tackle, and said, ‘They are the king’s goods.’ This was on the 20th of the month called July, and on the 4th of the next month, when, according to the bill of mortality, three thousand and forty died in one week, the rest of the banished prisoners were carried with soldiers to the said ship, in which now were fifty-five of the banished Quakers, and among these eighteen women. But something adversely hindered this ship from going away, and the pestilence also entered into it, which took away many of the prisoners, and so freed them from banishment. But though the pestilence grew more hot at London, and that a war was risen between England and Holland, yet the fire of persecution continued hot, and great rejoicings were made when the Dutch were beaten at sea, and their admiral Obdam was blown up with his ship. Neither did the persecutors leave off to disturb the meetings of those called Quakers, and imprison many of them; nay, so hardened and unrelenting were some, that when at London more than four thousand people died in one week, they said, that the only means to stop the pestilence, was to send the Quakers out of the land. But these fainted not, but grew emboldened against violence. In September some meetings were still disturbed at London, though the number of the dead in one week was heightened to above seven thousand, being increased in that time nigh two thousand. Now such as intended to have met at the Bull-and-Mouth, were kept out from performing worship there; but yet meeting in the street, they were not disturbed; for there seemed to be some fear of the common people, who grew discontented because there was little to be earned by tradesmen; and the city came to be so emptied, that grass grew in the streets that used to be most populous, few people being seen by the way. Thus the city became as a desert, and the misery was so great, that it was believed some died for want of attendance.

It was about this time that Samuel Fisher, who first had been a prisoner in Newgate at London, and afterwards in Southwark, since the beginning of the year 1663, till now, being about a year and a half, died piously.

It is reported that the king, in the time of this great mortality, once asked, whether any Quakers died of the plague? And having been told, yes, he seemed to slight that sickness, and to conclude, that then it could not be looked upon as a judgment or plague upon their persecutors. But certainly his chaplains might well have put him in mind of what Solomon saith, “There is one event to the righteous and to the wicked:” and of this saying of Job, “He destroyeth the perfect and the wicked:” as also that of the prophet, “That the righteous is taken away from the evil to come.”

Now travelling in the country was stopped, which made some people go with boats along the coast, and so went ashore where they had a mind. Thus did Stephen Crisp, who came about this time to York, where the duke of York was then, with many of the great ones. About this time Alexander Parker, and George Whitehead came to London, where they had good service in preaching the truth.

Great fires were now kindled in the streets to purify the contagious air; but no relief was found by it; for in the latter end of September there died at London above eight thousand people in one week, as I remember to have seen in one of the bills of mortality at that time. In the meanwhile the ship in which the banished prisoners were, could not go off, but continued to lie as a gazingstock for those ships that passed by; for the master was imprisoned for debt.

Now the prediction of George Bishop was fulfilled, and the plagues of the Lord fell so heavily on the persecutors, that the eagerness to banish the Quakers, and send them away, began to abate. The same G. Bishop about Midsummer, wrote from the prison at Bristol, (where he made account that he also should have been banished,) a letter to his friends to exhort them to steadfastness, foretelling them, that if they happened to be banished, God would give them grace in the eyes of those among whom they should be sent, if they continued to adhere to him; and that when he should have tried them, he should bring them again into their native country; and that none should root them out; but they should be planted and built up there; and that the Lord should visit their enemies with the sword and pestilence, and strike them with terror. This is but a short hint of what he wrote at large.

G. Fox, the younger, had also in the year 1661 given forth a little book, of which some small mention hath been made before, in which he lamented England, because of the judgments that were coming upon her inhabitants for their wickedness and persecution; saying among the rest, that the Lord had spoken in him concerning the inhabitants, ‘The people are too many, the people are too many, I will thin them, I will thin them.’ Besides that the spirit of the Lord had signified unto him, that an overflowing scourge, yea even an exceeding great and terrible judgment, was to come upon the land, and that many in it should fall, and be taken away. And that this decree of the Lord was so firm, that though some of the Lord’s children and prophets should appear so as to stand in the gap, yet should not that alter his decree. This with much more he wrote very plainly; and though he was deceased long ago, yet this paper was reprinted, to show the inhabitants how faithfully they had been warned.

What Isaac Pennington, being a prisoner, wrote about this time to the king and parliament, and published in print, was also very remarkable, being designed with Christian meekness to dissuade them if possible from going on with this mischievous work of persecution. In this paper, containing some queries, among many weighty expressions, I find these also:

‘After ye have done all ye can, even made laws as strong as ye can, and put them in the strictest course of execution ye can, one night from the Lord may end the controversy, and show whether we please the Lord in obeying him, or ye in making laws against us for our fidelity and obedience to him.

‘As the Lord is able to overturn you, so if ye mistake your work, misinterpreting the passages of his providence, and erring in heart concerning the ground of his former displeasure; and so, through the error of judgment, set yourselves in opposition against him, replanting the plants which he will not have grow, and plucking up the plants of his planting; do ye not in this case provoke the Lord, even to put forth the strength which is in him against you? We are poor worms. Alas, if ye had only us to deal with, we should be nothing in your hands! But if his strength stand behind us, we shall prove a very burdensome stone, and ye will hardly be able to remove us out of the place wherein God hath set us, and where he pleaseth to have us disposed of. And happy were it for you, if instead of persecuting us, ye yourselves were drawn to wait for the same begettings of God, which we have felt, out of the earthly nature into his life and nature, and did learn of him to govern in that; then might ye be established indeed, and be freed from the danger of those shakings, and overturnings, which God is hastening upon the earth.

‘Now, because ye may be apt to think, that I write these things for my own sake, and the sakes of my friends and companions in the truth of God, that we might escape the sufferings and severity which we are like to undergo from you, and not so mainly and chiefly for your sakes, lest ye should bring the wrath of God and misery upon your souls and bodies; to prevent this mistake in you, I shall add what followeth. Indeed this is not the intent of my heart: for I have long expected, and do still expect this cup of outward affliction and persecution from you, and my heart is quieted and satisfied therein, knowing that the Lord will bring glory to his name, and good to us out of it: but I am sure it is not good for you to afflict us for that which the Lord requireth of us, and wherein he accepteth us; and ye will find it the bitterest work that ever ye went about, and in the end will wish that the Lord had rather never given you this day of prosperity, than that he would suffer you thus to make use of it. Now that ye may more clearly see the temper of my spirit, and how my heart stands to this thing, I shall a little open unto you, my faith and hope about it, in these ensuing particulars:

‘First, I am assured in my heart and soul, that this despised people, called Quakers, is of the Lord’s begetting in his own life and nature. Indeed, had I not seen the power of God in them, and received from the Lord an unquestionable testimony concerning them, I had never looked towards them: for they were otherwise very despicable in my eyes. And this I cannot but testify concerning them, that I have found the life of God in me owning them, and that which God hath begotten in my heart, refreshed by the power of life in them: and none but the Lord knows the beauty and excellency of glory, which he hath hid under this appearance.

‘Secondly, The Lord hath hitherto preserved them against great oppositions, and is still able to preserve them. Every power hitherto hath made nothing of overrunning them; yet they have hitherto stood, by the care and tender mercy of the Lord; and the several powers which have persecuted them, have fallen one after another.

‘Thirdly, I have had experience myself of the Lord’s goodness and preservation of me, in my suffering with them for the testimony of his truth, who made my bonds pleasant to me, and my noisome prison, (enough to have destroyed my weakly and tenderly educated nature,) a place of pleasure and delight; where I was comforted by my God night and day, and filled with prayers for his people, as also with love to, and prayers for, those who had been the means of outwardly afflicting me, and others on the Lord’s account.

‘Fourthly, I have no doubt in my heart that the Lord will deliver us. The strength of man, the resolution of man is nothing in my eye in compare with the Lord. Whom the Lord loveth, he can save at his pleasure. Hath he begun to break our bonds and deliver us, and shall we now distrust him? Are we in a worse condition than Israel was, when the sea was before them, the mountains on each side, and the Egyptians behind pursuing them? He indeed that looketh with man’s eye, can see no ground of hope, nor hardly a possibility of deliverance; but, to the eye of faith, it is now nearer than when God began first to deliver.

‘Fifthly, It is the delight of the Lord, and his glory to deliver his people, when to the eye of sense it seemeth impossible. Then doth the Lord delight to stretch forth his arm, when none else can help: and then doth it please him to deal with the enemies of his truth and people, when they are lifted up above the fear of him, and are ready to say in their hearts concerning them, they are now in our hands, who can deliver them?

‘Well, were it not in love to you, and in pity, in relation to what will certainly befal you, if ye go on in this course, I could say in the joy of my heart, and in the sense of the good-will of my God to us, who suffereth these things to come to pass; go on, try it out with the spirit of the Lord, come forth with your laws, and prison, and spoiling of our goods, and banishment, and death, if the Lord please, and see if ye can carry it: for we come not forth against you in our own wills, or in any enmity against your persons or government, or in any stubbornness or refractoriness of spirit; but with the lamb-like nature which the Lord our God hath begotten in us, which is taught, and enabled by him, both to do his will, and to suffer for his name-sake. And if we cannot thus overcome you, even in patience of spirit, and in love to you, and if the Lord our God please not to appear for us, we are content to be overcome by you. So the will of the Lord be done saith my soul.’

This the author concludes with a postscript, containing a serious exhortation to forsake evil. Besides this he gave forth another paper, wherein he proposed this question to the king and both houses of parliament.

‘Whether laws made by man, in equity, ought to extend any further than there is power in man to obey. And if it was not cruel to require obedience in such cases, wherein the party hath not a capacity in him of obeying.’ And to explain this a little further, he said, ‘In things concerning the worship of God, wherein a man is limited by God, both what worship he shall perform, and what worship he shall abstain from, here he is not left at liberty to obey what laws shall be made by man contrary hereunto.’ Thus Pennington strove by writing to show the persecutors the evil of their doings: but a fierce party prevailed then: and the clergy continually blew the fire of persecution; nay, many presumed the time was now come totally to destroy the Quakers; and in December twelve more were condemned to transportation.

* * * * *

Concerning those banished that were now in the ship which lay in the Thames, I will yet leave them there, and take again a view of George Fox, whom in the foregoing year we left in a hard prison at Lancaster. In the month called March this year he was brought again to his trial before judge Twisden; and though judge Turner had given charge at the assize before, to see no such gross errors were in the indictment as before, yet in that respect this was not much better than the former, though the judge examined it himself. The jury then being called to be sworn, and three officers of the court having deposed, that the oath had been tendered to him at the last assizes, according to the indictment, the judge said, it was not done in a corner: and then asked him, what he had to say to it; and whether he had taken the oath at the last assizes? George Fox thereupon gave an account of what had been done then, and that he had said, that the book they gave him to swear on, saith. “Swear not at all.” And repeating more of what he spoke then, the judge said, ‘I will not dispute with you but in point of law.’ George Fox offering to speak something to the jury concerning the indictment, he was stopped by the judge; and then George Fox asked him, whether the oath was to be tendered to the king’s subjects only, or to the subjects of foreign princes? The judge replied, ‘To the subjects of this realm.’ ‘Well,’ said he, ‘look to the indictment, and thou mayest see that the word subject is left out of this indictment also.’ Several other great errors as to time, &c. he had observed in the indictment, but no sooner had he spoke concerning the errors, but the judge cried, ‘Take him away jailer, take him away.’ Then he was hurried away; yet the people thought he should have been called again; but that was not done. After he was gone, the judge asked the jury, whether they were agreed? They said, ‘Yes,’ and found for the king against him. The reason why George Fox was led away so suddenly, seemed to be that they expected he would have proved the officers of the court to have sworn falsely, seeing the day on which the oath had been tendered to him at the assizes before, was wrong in the indictment; and yet they had sworn, that on that day he had refused to take the oath. Before George Fox was brought before the judge, he had passed sentence of premunire against Margaret Fell, for having refused to take the oath. And though this sentence had not been passed against George Fox, yet he was recorded as a premunired person; though it had not been asked him what he had to say why sentence should not be pronounced against him. And thus he continued prisoner in Lancaster castle.

Whilst he was there, though weak of body, he wrote several papers; but the neighbouring justices laboured much to get him removed from thence to some remote place; for it was pretty well known among the people, how the court at the assizes had dealt with him. So about six weeks after, they got an order from the king and council to remove him from Lancaster; and they received also a letter from the earl of Anglesey, wherein it was written, that if these things which he was charged with, were found true against him, he deserved no clemency or mercy: and yet the greatest matter they had against him, was his refusal of the oath. His persecutors now having prepared for his removal, the under sheriff, and the head sheriff’s men, with some bailiffs, came and fetched him out of the castle, when he was so weak, by lying in that cold, wet, and smoky prison, that he could hardly go or stand. So they brought him down into the jailer’s house where justice William Kirby, and several others were. They called for wine to give him, but he well knowing their malice against him, told them, he would have none of their wine. Then they cried, ‘Bring out the horses.’ G. Fox therefore desired, that if they intended to remove him, they would first show him their order, or a copy of it. But they would not show him any but their swords. He then told them, there was no sentence passed upon him, neither was he premunired, that he knew of; and therefore he was not made the king’s prisoner, but was the sheriff’s: for they and all the country knew that he was not fully heard at the last assizes, nor suffered to show the errors that were in the indictment, which were sufficient to quash it. And that they all knew there was no sentence of premunire passed upon him; and therefore he not being the king’s prisoner, but the sheriff’s, desired to see their order. But instead of showing him their order, they hauled him out, and lifted him upon one of the sheriff’s horses; for he was so very weak, that he was hardly able to sit on horseback. Riding thus along the street, he was much gazed upon by the people, and had great reason to say, that he received neither Christianity, civility, nor humanity, for how ill and weak soever he was, yet they hurried him away about fourteen miles to Bentham in Yorkshire; and so wicked was the jailer, one Hunter, a young fellow, that he lashed the horse on which G. Fox rode, with his whip, to make him skip and leap, insomuch that he had much ado to sit him; and then would this wanton fellow come, and looking him in the face, say, ‘How do you Mr. Fox?’ To which he answered, it was not civil in him to do so. Yet this malicious fellow seemed little to regard it; but he had not long time to delight in this kind of insolence; for soon after he was cut off by death.

G. Fox being come to Bentham, was met by a marshal and several troopers, and many of the gentry, besides abundance of people, come thither to stare at him. Being entered the house, and very much tired, he desired they would let him lie down on a bed, which the soldiers permitted; and the marshal, to whom he was delivered, set a guard upon him. After having staid there a while, they pressed horses, and sending for the bailiff and the constables, they had him to Giggleswick that night. And there they raised the constables, who sat drinking all night in the room by him, so that he could get but little rest. The next day coming to a market town, several of his friends came to see him, and at night he asked the soldiers, whither they intended to carry him? To which some said, beyond sea, and others to Tinmouth Castle. And there was a fear amongst them, lest some should rescue him; but there was not the least reason for it. The next night he was brought to York, where the marshal put him into a great chamber, where many of the troopers then came to him. He then speaking something by way of exhortation to the soldiers, many of them were very loving to him. A while after the lord Frecheville, who commanded those horse, came to him, and was civil and loving, and G. Fox gave him an account of his imprisonment.

After a stay of two days at York, the marshal and five soldiers were sent to convey him to Scarborough Castle: these behaved themselves civilly to him. On the way they baited at Malton, and permitted his friends to see him. Afterwards being come to Scarborough, they brought him to an inn, and gave notice of it to the governor, who sent six soldiers to guard him that night. The next day they had him into the castle, and there put him into a room, with a sentinel to watch him. Out of this room they soon brought him into another, which was so open, that the rain came in, and it smoked exceedingly; which was very offensive to him. One day the governor, sir John Crosland, came into the castle with one sir Francis Cob. G. Fox desired the governor to come into his room, and see how it was, and so they did: and G. Fox having got a little fire made in the room, it was so filled with smoke, that they could hardly find the way out again. And he being a Papist, G. Fox told him, that was his purgatory which they had put him into. For it plainly appeared that there was an intent to vex and distress him: for after he had been at the charge of laying out about fifty shillings, to keep out the rain, and somewhat to ease the smoke, they put him into a worse room, which had neither chimney nor fire-hearth; and lying much open toward the sea-side, the wind so drove in the rain, that the water not only ran about the room, but also came upon his bed. And he having no fire to dry his clothes when they were wet, his body was so benumbed with cold, and his fingers swelled to that degree, that one grew as big as two. And so malicious were his persecutors, that they would hardly suffer any of his friends to come at him, nay, not so much as to bring him a little food; so that he was forced to hire somebody to bring him necessaries. Thus he spent about a quarter of a year, and afterwards being put into a room where a fire could be made, he hired a soldier to fetch him what he wanted. He then ate almost nothing but bread, and of this so little, that a threepenny loaf commonly served him three weeks: and most of his drink was water, that had wormwood steeped in it; and once when the weather was very sharp, and he had taken a great cold, he got some elecampane beer.

Now, though he desired his friends and acquaintances might be suffered to come to him, yet this was refused; but some others were admitted to come and gaze upon him, especially Papists, of whom a great company once being come, they affirmed, that the pope was infallible, and had been so ever since St. Peter’s time. But G. Fox denied this, and alleged from history, that Marcellinus, one of the bishops of Rome, denied the faith, and sacrificed to idols; and therefore was not infallible. And he said also, ‘If the Papists were in the infallible spirit, they would not maintain their religion by jails, swords, gallows, fires, racks, and tortures, &c. nor want such means to hold it up by: for if they were in the infallible spirit, they would preserve men’s lives, and use none but spiritual weapons about religion.’ He also told them how a certain woman that had been a Papist, but afterwards entered into the society of those called Quakers, having a taylor at work at her house, and speaking to him concerning the falseness of the popish religion, was threatened to have been stabbed by him, for which end he drew his knife at her: since it was the woman said, the principle of the Papists, if any turn from their religion to kill them if they can. This story he told the Papists, and they did not deny this to be their principle, but asked, if he would declare this abroad. And he said, ‘Yes, such things ought to be declared abroad, that it may be known how contrary your religion is to true Christianity.’ Whereupon they went away in a rage. Some time after another Papist came to discourse with him, and said, that all the patriarchs were in hell, from the creation till Christ came; and that when he suffered he went into hell, and the devil said to him, ‘What comest thou hither for; to break open our strong holds?’ And Christ said, ‘To fetch them all out.’ And so, he said, Christ was three days and three nights in hell, to bring them all out. On which G. Fox said to him that was false; for Christ said to the thief, “This day thou shalt be with me in paradise.” He also said, that Enoch and Elijah were translated into heaven; and that Abraham also was in heaven, since the Scripture saith, that Lazarus was in his bosom. And Moses and Elias were with Christ upon the mount, before he suffered. With these instances he stopped his adversary’s mouth, and put him to a nonplus.

Another time there came to him a great physician, called Dr. Witty, being accompanied with the lord Falconbridge, the governor of Tinmouth Castle, and several knights. G. Fox being called to them, this doctor undertook to discourse with him, and asked, what he was in prison for? G. Fox told him, because he would not disobey the command of Christ, and swear. To which the doctor said, he ought to swear his allegiance to the king. Now G. Fox knowing him to be a great Presbyterian, asked him, whether he had not sworn against the king and the house of lords, and taken the Scotch covenant; and whether he had not since sworn to the king. The doctor having no ready answer to this, G. Fox asked him, what then was his swearing good for: telling him further, ‘My allegiance doth not consist in swearing, but in truth and faithfulness.’ After some further discourse, G. Fox was led away to his prison again; and afterwards the doctor boasted, that he had conquered G. Fox; which he having heard, told the governor, it was a small boast in him to say he had conquered a bondman.

A while after, this doctor came again, having many great persons with him, and he affirmed before them all, that Christ had not enlightened every man that cometh into the world; that the grace of God, which brought salvation, had not appeared unto all men; and that Christ had not died for all men. G. Fox asked him, what sort of men those were, which Christ had not enlightened; and whom his grace had not appeared unto. To which the doctor answered, ‘Christ did not die for adulterers, and idolators, and wicked men.’ Then G. Fox asked him, whether adulterers and wicked men were not sinners; and he said, ‘Yes.’ Which made G. Fox say, ‘And did not Christ die for sinners? Did he not come to call sinners to repentance?’ ‘Yes,’ said the doctor. ‘Then,’ replied G. Fox, ‘thou hast stopped thy own mouth.’ And so he proved, that the grace of God had appeared to all men, though some turned it into wantonness, and walked despitefully against it; and that Christ had enlightened all men, though some hated the light. Several of those that were present confessed it was true; but the doctor went away in a rage, and came no more to him.

Another time the governor came to him, with two or three parliament-men, and they asked him, whether he owned ministers and bishops; to which he said, ‘Yes, such as Christ sent forth; such as had freely received, and would freely give; and such as were qualified, and were in the same power and spirit that they were in, in the apostles’ days. But such bishops and teachers as yours are, that will go no further than they have a great benefice, I do not own; for they are not like the apostles: for Christ saith to his ministers, “Go ye into all nations and preach the gospel.” But ye parliament-men, that keep your priests and bishops in such great fat benefices, ye have spoiled them all: for do you think they will go into all nations to preach, or will go any further than they have great fat benefices? Judge yourselves, whether they will or no.’ To this they could say little, and whatever was objected to G. Fox, he always had an answer in readiness; and because sometimes it was simple and plain, his enemies from thence took occasion to say, that he was a fool. But whatever such said, it is certain that he had a good understanding, though he was not educated in human learning. This I know by my own experience, for I have had familiar conversation with him.

In this his prison he was much visited, even by people of note. General Fairfax’s widow came once to him with a great company, one of which was a priest, who began to quarrel with him, because speaking to one person, he said thou and thee, and not you; and those that spoke so, the priest said, he counted but fools. Which made G. Fox ask him, whether they, that translated the Scriptures, and that made the grammar and accidence, were fools; seeing they translated the Scriptures so, and made the grammar so, thou to one, and you to more than one. With these and other reasons he soon silenced the priest; and several of the company acknowledged the truth he declared to them, and were loving to him; and some of them would have given him money, but he would not receive it.

Whilst I leave him yet prisoner, I will go to other matters, and relate the remarkable case of one William Dundas, who being a man of some repute in Scotland, came over to the communion of those called Quakers, in a singular manner. He was a man of a strict life, and observed the ecclesiastical institutions there as diligently as any of the most precise; but in time he saw, that bodily exercise profited little, and that it was true godliness which the Lord required from man. In this state, becoming more circumspect than he was accustomed to be, he did not frequent the public assemblies so much as formerly. But this was soon taken notice of, and being asked the reason why, he said, that there was a thing beyond that, which he looked for. But it was told him, this was a dangerous principle. To which Dundas replied, that he was not to receive the law from the mouth of man. Then the minister, so called, said to him, that he tempted God. To which Dundas returned, that God could not be tempted to evil. Now that which made him more averse to the priests of that nation, was to see their domineering pride: and how they forced some that were not one with them, in their principles, to comply with their institutions, sprinkling the children of parents even without their consent. Add to this, their going from one benefice to another, being always ready to go over from a small church to a great one, under pretence of more service for the church; whereas it plainly appeared, that selfish interest generally was the main cause. This behaviour of the clergy, and their rigid persecution, if any deviated a little from the church ceremonies and the common form, turned Dundas’s affection from them. An instance of this rigidness was, that one Wood, who had some charge in the custom-house of Leith, and approved in some respect the doctrine of those called Quakers, had said, that Christ was the word, and that the letter was not the word. For this he was cited before the ecclesiastical assembly of Lothian, where Dundas was present; and Wood so well defended his saying, that none were able to overthrow his arguments; chiefly drawn from these words of John, “That the word was made flesh, and dwelt among us.” Wood continuing to maintain his assertion, they began to threaten him with excommunication, and would not allow him so much time as to give his answer to the next assembly. Excommunication there was such a penalty, that people under it were very much deprived of conversation with men. The fear of this made Wood comply in a little time; and meeting Dundas about three months after in the street at Edinburgh, he told him, that he had been forced to bow to the assembly against his light: for if he had been excommunicated, he had lost his livelihood. Thus Wood bowed through human fear, but he hardly outlived this two years.

In the meanwhile the priests became more and more jealous of Dundas; for he not having them in such an esteem as they wished, they said that he would infect the whole nation. And they did not stick here, but to know with whom he corresponded in England, they opened, (so great was their power,) his letters at the post-house, and sometimes kept them: but if they found nothing in them, by which they could prejudice him, they caused them to be sealed up again, and delivered to him. By this base practice, they came to know that one Gawen Lawry, merchant of London, sent him a box, with about three pounds sterling worth of books. This box Dundas found afterwards that the priest, John Oswald, had taken away: and whatever he did, he could not get them again, till the English came into Scotland, but then many of them were wanting. Dundas in the meanwhile unwilling to comply with the kirk, was at length excommunicated; but he was generally so well esteemed, that none seemed to regard that sentence, so as to keep at a distance from him; which made this act the more contemptible. Now though Dundas favoured the doctrine of the Quakers, yet they were such a despised people, that he, who was a man of some account in the world, could not as yet give up to join with them.

It happened once that he was riding from Edinburgh to his house, in a winter evening, and hearing a noise of some men as if fighting, he bade his man ride up in haste to see what it was, which he did, and calling out, said, that there were two men on horseback, beating another on foot, Dundas riding up to them, saw the two beating the other man, who said to them, ‘What did I say to you, but bid you fear God?’ By this Dundas presently perceived that the man thus beaten was a Quaker; and asking his name, which the other telling, he knew it, though he did not know the man by sight: and then he fell a beating the two with his rod, and ordered those that were with him, to carry them to the next prison: but the said Quaker intreated him to let them go, which he did, after having asked their names, and dwelling-places. About a week after, the said Quaker told a relation of Dundas what kindness he showed him, and how he had in some manner been saved by him; ‘yet,’ said he, ‘I found the same spirit in him that was in the other two men who beat me.’ Such a saying as this would have offended some men, but with Dundas it had a contrary effect; for these words so reached him, that some time after meeting the said Quaker again, he desired, that as he passed that way, he would make his house his lodging place: which kind invitation he seemed not unwilling to accept of. Dundas had now attained so much experience, that he could discern between the spirits of meekness and rashness; and sufficiently perceive that the said Quaker, by that which he spoke concerning him, had not made himself guilty of the latter; but yet he could not bow so low, as to join in society with the Quakers, though secretly he endeavoured more and more to live up to their doctrine; and therein he enjoyed more peace in his heart than formerly.

But his outward condition in the world not being very forward, he went into France, and settled at Dieppe. Whilst he dwelt there, a certain woman out of England, came thither with her maid, and spread in the town some books of George Fox and William Dewsbury, translated into French; and she herself having written some papers, got them turned into French by Dundas, and so distributed them. But the message she chiefly came for, she hid from him, and that not without reason; for what she acted there, was so singular, that if it had been known before, it is probable she would not have been able to perform it. Though I do not find what her intent was in the thing, yet it seems likely to me, that she, not knowing the language there spoken, would by a sign testify against their apparel and dress, and that on this wise: on the First-day of the week she came to the meeting-house of the Protestants there, where some thousands of people were met: and, having set herself in the most conspicuous place, just over against him that preached, before the service was finished, she stood up, with the maid that was with her, who taking off a mantle and hood she was covered with, she appeared clothed in sackcloth, and her hair hanging down, sprinkled with ashes: thus she turned herself round several times, that all the people might see her. This sight struck both preacher and auditory with no small consternation; and the preacher’s wife afterwards telling somebody how this sight had affected her, said, ‘This is of deeper reach than I can comprehend.’ The said women having stood thus awhile, fell both down upon their knees, and prayed, and then went out of the meeting, many following them, and distributed some books. Then they came to their lodging, which was in a Scotchman’s house; but he refusing them entrance, they came to Dundas’s lodging, who knew nothing of all this. They therefore told him, that the work they came for in that nation, was now done; and he asking what they had done, they told him, and signified that they wanted lodging till they went away. Then he went abroad to see if he could find lodging for them, but in vain; he then offered them his bed, being willing to shift for himself somewhere else, but they refused to accept of his offer; and his landlady not being willing to let them sit up that night in any of her rooms, they were fain to stay that night in an outhouse.

Now this business had made such a stir in the town, that one of the king’s officers coming the next day to Dundas, told him, that he had transgressed the laws of the nation, by receiving persons of another religion to his lodging: for the king tolerated only two religions, viz. Papists and Protestants. To this Dundas said, that he had not transgressed the law of hospitality, and he had been forced to do so, since he could not let them lie in the street, where they would have been in danger of their lives by the rude multitude. Then the women were taken away, and sent to prison; and they not being provided with food, Dundas took care of that. Sometime after, an order being come from the parliament, at Rouen, it was read to them, viz. that they should be transported forthwith back to England, with the first passage-boat, and all their papers and books to be burnt in the market, and themselves also, if ever they should come to that nation again. In pursuance of this they were put into a passage-boat in the night time, and so sent to England. Afterwards the people at Dieppe intended to pursue Dundas as one of their judgment; but he was unwilling to be looked upon as such, though the Protestants had informed against him, that he did not come to their meetings: but of this no crime could be made, and Dundas told them, if they persecuted him, being a merchant, and trafficking there, they might expect the like to be done to their merchants in England. And when the judge affirmed that Dundas was of the judgment of these women, he told them that they were better than he; but that their way was too strait for him to walk in. There fell out two things which Dundas took singular notice of; the one was, that the Scotchman who shut out the women, died within twelve months after; and the other, that the house of his landlady, who refused them a chamber to sit in, was burnt within the said time, without its being known whence the fire came, no house being burnt besides, though it was in the middle of the town.

In the meanwhile Dundas continued in an unquiet condition; for by reason of human fear, he found himself too weak to profess publicly before men, what he believed to be truth.

Then he went to Rouen, but could get no rest there, being somewhat indisposed in body; and having from England gotten a great many books, treating of the doctrine of those called Quakers, he sent some of them to the judge criminal at Dieppe, and some to the Jesuits’ college there, and at Paris. Afterwards he spread some books also at Caen, where many Protestants lived. But since those books spoke against the Papists, and the Calvinists were in fear that thereby they might be brought to sufferings, they complained to the lieutenant-general of the town, of Dundas, as one that did not come to their meeting. By this he was forced to leave that place, and went to Alencon, where staying a while, the judge criminal sent for him; and after a long discourse, he and Dundas agreed so well, that he invited him to come and see him oftener, and that if he would, he might have an opportunity to discourse with some of the Jesuits. But Dundas told him, that he was not willing to dispute with any; yet he should not be afraid to maintain his principles, against all the Jesuits of the nation. This being told the Jesuits, it so exasperated them against him, that being once out of town, they caused his chamber-door to be broken up, to search his lodging. He complaining of this to the judge criminal, the judge told him, he knew nothing of it, and if there was any thing, it did proceed from the Jesuits, because of his confidence against them. This seemed not improbable, for he found his letters opened at the post-house several times, and when he challenged the post-master, he received for an answer, that they came so to him.

Some time after he returned to Caen, where he was not long; but his correspondent at Alencon sent him word, that the day after he went from thence, the governor of the town had been at his lodging to seek for him.

In the next year, when a war arose between England and France, he came again to Dieppe, in order to return to England; having got passage in company of the lord Hollis, ambassador from England; where being arrived, he frequented the meetings of those called Quakers, yet was not bold enough to own the name of Quaker, but continued in the common way of salutations, &c. Yet at length the truth they professed, had such power over him, that not being able to enjoy peace without yielding obedience to the inward convictions upon his mind, he at length gave up, and so entered into their society, and obtained a true peace with the Lord, which he had long reasoned himself out of. In process of time he published a book in print, from which I have drawn this relation, which he concluded with a poem, in which he thanked God for his singular dealings and mercies bestowed upon him, wishing that others might reap benefit by it.

Thus parting with William Dundas, I am now to say, that in this year, 1665, in December, William Caton died at Amsterdam. He was a man not only of literature, and zealous for religion, but of a courteous and affable temper and conversation, by which he was in good esteem among those he was acquainted with: and as to the respect he had there, this may serve as an instance. Holland at this time being in war with England, there were several English prisoners of war in the prison of the court of admiralty at Amsterdam, who now and then were visited by Caton, and supplied with some sustenance: but in this he was hindered by an officer of that court, who seemed offended because Caton did not give him hat honour. This gave occasion to Caton to complain of it to a burgomaster of the city, I think the lord Cornelius Van Vlooswyh, who at that time was one of the lords of the admiralty; he bid Caton come to his house at such a time as he was to go to the court; which he did, and went with the said burgomaster towards the court, where being come, and entrance denied him by the said officer, the burgomaster charged him not to hinder Caton from visiting the prisoners. About this time a law was made in England, called,

_An Act for restraining Non-Conformists from inhabiting in Corporations._

Whereas divers persons, vicars, curates, lecturers, and other persons in holy orders, have not declared their unfeigned assent and consent in the use of all things contained and prescribed in the book of Common Prayer, and administration of the sacraments, and other rites and ceremonies of the church, according to the use of the church of England, or have not subscribed to the declaration or acknowledgment contained in a certain act of parliament, made in the fourteenth year of his majesty’s reign, and intitled, ‘An act for the uniformity of public prayers, and administration of sacraments, and other rites and ceremonies, and for the establishing the form of making, ordaining and consecrating of bishops, priests, and deacons in the church of England,’ according to the said act, or any other subsequent act. And whereas they, or some of them, and divers other person and persons not ordained according to the form of the church of England, and as they have, since the act of oblivion, taken upon them to preach in unlawful assemblies, conventicles, or meetings under colour or pretence of exercise of religion, contrary to the laws and statutes of this kingdom, and have settled themselves in divers corporations in England, sometimes three or more of them in a place, thereby taking an opportunity to distil the poisonous principles of schism and rebellion into the hearts of his majesty’s subjects, to the great danger of the church and kingdom.

II. Be it therefore enacted by the king’s most excellent majesty, by and with the advice and consent of the lords spiritual and temporal, and the commons in this present parliament assembled, and by the authority of the same, that the said parsons, vicars, curates, lecturers, and other persons in holy orders, or pretended holy orders, or pretending to holy orders, and all stipendiaries, and other persons who have been possessed of any ecclesiastical or spiritual promotion, and every of them, who have not declared their unfeigned assent and consent, as aforesaid, and subscribed the declaration as aforesaid, and shall not take and subscribe the oath following:

(2) ‘I, A. B. do swear, that it is not lawful upon any pretence whatsoever, to take arms against the king; and that I do abhor that traitorous position of taking arms by his authority against his person, or against those that are commissioned by him, in pursuance of such commission; and that I will not at anytime endeavour any alteration of government, either in church or state:’ shall not come within five miles of any city, &c. nor teach school, on pain to forfeit 40_l._

And though this act was chiefly made against the Presbyterians and Independents, who formerly had been employed in the public church, yet they suffered but little by it; but it was cunningly made use of to vex the Quakers, who, because for conscience-sake they could not swear, were on this law prosecuted and imprisoned, &c.

Now since the pestilence had been so fierce this year at London, that about an hundred thousand people were swept away by it and otherwise, and also many of those called Quakers, there must be consequently many poor widows and fatherless children among those of that society. And because the men, who at times kept meetings to take care for the poor, found that this burden grew too heavy for them, they offered part of this service and care to the most grave and solid women of their church, who for this service met once a week at London, and this in time gave rise to the women’s monthly meetings in other places in England.

1666.

I return now to the ship with the banished prisoners, which I left lying in the Thames; but the owners having put in another master, whose name was Peter Love, the ship, after long lingering, left the river, and came into the Downs. In the month called January of the year ensuing, Luke Howard wrote from Dover, that of fifty-four banished persons, who almost half a year ago had been brought on ship-board, but twenty-seven remained, the rest being dead. By this long stay the ship several times wanted a fresh supply of provision, and the ship’s crew grew so uneasy, that two of them having gone ashore with the boat, ran away, leaving the boat floating, by which it was staved to pieces. At length the master, though he had but few, and those mostly raw sailors, and was ill provided with victuals, yet resolved to set sail. And so they weighed anchor, and went down the channel as far as Plymouth, where after some stay, they set sail again, which was on the 23d of the month called February, but the next day being advanced as far as the Land’s End, a Dutch privateer came and took the ship; and to avoid being retaken, went about the backside of Ireland and Scotland, and so after three weeks came with some of the banished to Horn, in North Holland, and some days after the prize, with the rest of them, entered also into that port. Here they were kept some time in prison, but the commissioners of the admiralty having understood, that there was no likelihood to get the banished Quakers exchanged for Dutch prisoners of war in England, resolved to set them at liberty, and gave them a letter of passport, and a certificate, that they had not made an escape, but were sent back by them. They coming to Amsterdam, were by their friends there provided with lodging and clothes; for their own had been taken from them by the privateer’s crew; and in process of time they all returned to England, except one, who not being an Englishman, staid in Holland. Thus the banished were delivered, and the design of their persecutors was brought to nought by an Almighty hand.

In the meanwhile G. Fox continued prisoner in Scarborough Castle, where the access of his friends was denied him, though people of other persuasions were admitted. Once came to him one doctor Cradock with three priests, accompanied with the governor and his wife, and many besides. Cradock asked him, what he was in prison for? He answered, for obeying the command of Christ and his apostle in not swearing: but, if he, being both a doctor and a justice of peace, could convince him, that after Christ and the apostle had forbidden swearing, they commanded Christians to swear, then he would swear. ‘Here’s a bible,’ continued he, ‘show me any such command if thou canst.’ To this Cradock said, ‘It is written, ye shall swear in truth and righteousness.’ ‘Aye,’ said G. Fox, ‘it was written so in Jeremiah’s time, but that was many ages before Christ commanded not to swear at all: but where is it written so since Christ forbade all swearing? I could bring as many instances out of the Old Testament for swearing as thou, and it may be more too, but of what force are they to prove swearing lawful in the New Testament, since Christ and the apostles forbade it? Besides, where it is written, “Ye shall swear,” was this said to the Gentiles or to the Jews?’ To this Cradock would not answer; but one of the priests said, it was to the Jews. ‘Very well,’ said G. Fox, ‘but where did God ever give a command to the Gentiles to swear? For thou knowest that we are Gentiles by nature.’ ‘Indeed,’ said Cradock, ‘in the gospel-time every thing was to be established out of the mouths of two or three witnesses, and there was to be no swearing then.’ ‘Why then,’ returned G. Fox, ‘dost thou force oaths upon Christians, contrary to thine own knowledge in the gospel-times? And why dost thou excommunicate my friends?’ Cradock answered, ‘For not coming to church.’ ‘Why,’ said G. Fox, ‘ye left us above twenty years ago, when we were but young, to the Presbyterians, Independents, and Baptists, many of whom made spoil of our goods, and persecuted us because we would not follow them: now we being but young, knew little then of your principles, and those that knew them should not have fled from us, but ye should have sent us your epistles or homilies; for Paul wrote epistles to the saints, though he was in prison: but we might have turned Turks or Jews for ought we had from you for instruction. And now ye have excommunicated us, that is, ye have put us out of your church, before ye have got us into it, and before ye have brought us to know your principles. Is not this madness in you to put us out, before we were brought in? But what dost thou call the church?’ continued he, ‘That which you,’ replied Cradock, ‘call the steeple-house.’ Then G. Fox asked him, whether Christ’s blood was shed for the steeple-house, and whether he purified and sanctified it with his blood; ‘And seeing,’ thus continued he, ‘the church is Christ’s bride and wife, and that he is the head of the church, dost thou think the steeple-house is Christ’s wife and bride; and that he is the head of that old house, or of his people?’ ‘No,’ said Cradock, ‘Christ is the head of the people, and they are the church.’ ‘But,’ replied G. Fox, ‘ye have given that title to an old house, which belongs to the people, and ye have taught people to believe so.’ He asked him also why he persecuted his friends for not paying tithes; and whether God did ever give a command to the Gentiles, that they should pay tithes; and whether Christ had not ended tithes, when he ended the Levitical priesthood that took tithes; and whether Christ when he had sent forth his disciples to preach, had not commanded them to preach freely, as he had given them freely; and whether all the ministers of Christ were not bound to observe this command of Christ. Cradock said, he would not dispute that: and being unwilling to stay on this subject, he turned to another matter; but finding G. Fox never to be at a loss for answer, and that he could get no advantage on him, he at length went away with his company.

With such kind of people G. Fox was often troubled whilst he was prisoner there; for most that came to the castle would speak with him, and many disputes he had with them. But as to his friends, he was as a man buried alive, for very few of them were suffered to come to him. Josiah Coale once desiring admittance, the governor told him, ‘You are an understanding man, but G. Fox is a mere fool.’ Now, though the governor dealt hardly with him, yet in time he altered, for having sent out a privateer to sea, they took some ships that were not their enemies, which brought him in some trouble; after that he grew somewhat more friendly to G. Fox: to whom the deputy-governor said once, that the king knowing that he had a great interest in the people, had sent him thither, that if there should be any stirring in the nation, they should hang him over the wall. And among the Papists, who were numerous in those parts, there was much talk then of hanging G. Fox. But he told them, if that was it they desired, and it was permitted them, he was ready, for he never feared death nor sufferings in his life; but was known to be an innocent peaceable man, free from all stirrings, and plottings, and one that sought the good of all men. But the governor now growing kinder, G. Fox spoke to him when he was to go to the parliament at London, and desired him to speak with esq. Marsh, sir Francis Cob, and some others, and to tell them, how long he had lain in prison, and for what. This the governor did, and at his coming back told him, that esq. Marsh said, he knew G. Fox so well, that he would go an hundred miles barefoot for his liberty; and that several others at court had spoken well of him.

After he had been prisoner in the castle there above a year, he sent a letter to the king, in which he gave an account of his imprisonment, and the bad usage he had met with, and also that he was informed, that no man could deliver him but the king. Esq. Marsh, who was a gentleman of the king’s bed-chamber, did whatever he could to procure his liberty, and at length obtained an order from the king for his release; the substance of which order was, ‘That the king being certainly informed that G. Fox was a man principled against plotting and fighting, and had been ready at all times to discover plots, rather than to make any, &c. that therefore his royal pleasure was, that he should be discharged from his imprisonment, &c.’ This order being obtained, was not long after brought to Scarborough, and delivered to the governor, who upon the receipt thereof, discharged him, and gave him the following passport:

‘Permit the bearer thereof, George Fox, late a prisoner here, and now discharged by his majesty’s order, quietly to pass about his lawful occasions, without any molestation. Given under my hand at Scarborough Castle, this first day of September, 1666.

JORDAN CROSSLANDS, Governor of Scarborough Castle.’

G. Fox being thus released, would have given the governor something for the civility and kindness he had of late showed him; but he would not receive any thing; and said, whatever good he could do for him and his friends, he would do it, and never do them any hurt: and so he continued loving to his dying day; nay, if at any time the mayor of the town sent to him for soldiers, to disperse the meetings of those called Quakers, if he sent any, he privately charged them, not to meddle with the meeting.

The very next day after G. Fox was released, the fire broke out at London, and the report of it came quickly down into the country, how that city was turned into rubbish and ashes, insomuch that after an incessant fire which lasted near four days, but little of old London was left standing, there being about thirteen thousand and two hundred houses burnt; the account whereof hath been so circumstantially described by others, that I need not treat of it at large; but I cannot omit to say, that Thomas Briggs, some years before passing through the streets of London, preached repentance to the inhabitants; and coming through Cheapside, he cried out, that unless London repented, as Nineveh did, God would destroy it.

Now I may relate another remarkable prediction.

Thomas Ibbitt, of Huntingdonshire, came to London a few days before the burning of that city, and, as hath been related by eye witnesses, did upon his coming thither, alight from his horse, and unbutton his clothes in so loose a manner, as if they had been put on in haste just out of bed. In this manner he went about the city on the sixth, being the day he came thither, and also on the seventh day of the week, pronouncing a judgment by fire which should lay waste the city. On the evening of these days some of his friends had meetings with him, to inquire concerning his message and call, to pronounce that impending judgment: in his account whereof he was not more particular and clear, than that he said he for sometime had the vision thereof, but had delayed to come and declare it as commanded, until he felt, as he expressed it, the fire in his own bosom: which message or vision was very suddenly proved to be sadly true, as the foregoing brief account doth in part declare. The fire began on the 2d of September, 1666, on the first day of the week, which did immediately follow those two days the said Thomas Ibbitt had gone about the city declaring that judgment.

Having gone up and down the city, as hath been said, when afterwards he saw the fire break out, and beheld the fulfilling of his prediction, a spiritual pride seized on him, which, if others had not been wiser than he, might have tended to his utter destruction: for the fire being come as far as the east end of Cheapside, he placed himself before the flame, and spread his arms forth, as if to stay the progress of it; and if one Thomas Matthews, with others, had not pulled him, (who seemed now altogether distracted,) from thence, it was like he might have perished by the fire. Yet in process of time, as I have been told, he came to some recovery, and confessed this error: an evident proof of human weakness, and a notorious instance of our frailty, when we assume to ourselves the doing of any thing, which heaven alone can enable us.

I cannot well pass by without taking notice of it, that about three weeks before the said fire, the English landed in the island of Schelling in Holland, under the conduct of captain Holmes, and setting the town on fire, there were above three hundred houses burnt down, belonging mostly to Baptists that did not hear arms. It may be further observed, that the English were beaten at sea this summer by the Dutch, under the conduct of admiral De Ruyter, in a fight, which lasted four days; so that they had occasion to call to mind how often the judgments of God had been foretold them, which now came over their country, viz. pestilence, war, and fire.

G. Fox being at liberty, did not omit to visit his friends, and in their meetings to edify them with his exhortations, whereby others also sometimes came to be convinced. And coming to Whitby, he went to a priest’s house, who fourteen years before had said, that if ever he met G. Fox again he would have his life, or he should have his. But now his wife was not only become one of G. Fox’s friends, but this priest himself favoured the doctrine professed by his wife, and was very kind to G. Fox, who passed from thence to York, where he had a large meeting, and visited also justice Robinson, who had been loving to him from the beginning. At this time there was a priest with him, who told G. Fox, ‘It is said of you that ye love none but yourselves.’ But he showed him his mistake, and gave him so much satisfaction, that they parted friendly.

In this county G. Fox had many meetings, and one not far from colonel Kirby’s abode, who had been the chief means of his imprisonment at Lancaster and Scarborough castles: and when he heard of his release, said, he would have him taken again: but now when G. Fox came so near him, he himself was caught by the gout, which had seized him so that he was fain to keep his bed; and afterwards he met with adversities, as did most of the justices and others who had been the cause of the imprisonment of G. Fox, who now coming to Sinderhill Green, had a large meeting there, where the priest sent the constable to the justices for a warrant; but the notice being short, the way long, and having spent time in searching for G. Fox in another house, before the officers came where the meeting was, it was ended, though they had almost spoiled their horses by hard riding.

G. Fox passing from thence through Nottinghamshire, Bedfordshire, Buckinghamshire, and Oxfordshire, and visiting his friends in all places where he came, and edifying them in their meetings, gets at length to London: but he was so weak, by lying almost three years in hard and cold imprisonments, and his joints and body were so stiff and benumbed, that he could hardly get on horseback.

Being now at London, he beheld the ruins of the city, and saw the fulfilling of what had been shown him some years before. Notwithstanding this stroke on London, persecution did not cease, which gave occasion to Josiah Coale to write these lines to the king:

‘King Charles,

‘Set the people of God at liberty, who suffer imprisonments for the exercise of their conscience towards him, and give liberty of conscience to them to worship and serve him as he requireth, and leadeth them by his spirit; or else his judgments shall not depart from thy kingdom, until thereby he hath wrought the liberty of his people, and removed their oppressions. And remember thou art once more warned,

By a servant of the Lord, JOSIAH COALE.’

London, Dec. 2d, 1666.

About this time, or it may be in the next month, Stephen Crisp published an epistle, containing an exhortation to his friends, and also a prediction concerning succeeding times, which is as followeth:

‘Friends,

‘I am the more drawn forth at this time to visit you with an epistle, because the Lord hath given me some sight of his great and dreadful day, and workings in it, which is at hand, and greatly hastens, of which I have something to say unto you, that ye may be prepared to stand in his day, and may behold his wondrous working among his enemies, and have fellowship with his power therein, and may not be dismayed nor driven away in the tempest, which will be great.

‘And as concerning those succeeding times, the spirit of the Lord hath signified, that they will be times of horror and amazement, to all that have, and yet do reject his counsel: for as the days of his forbearance, warning and inviting, have been long, so shall his appearance amongst those that have withstood him, be fierce and terrible; even so terrible, as who shall abide his coming? for the Lord will work both secretly and openly, and his arm shall be manifest to his children in both.

‘Secretly he shall rise up a continual fretting anguish among his enemies, one against another, so that being vexed and tormented inwardly, they shall seek to make each other miserable, and delight therein for a little season; and then the prevailer must be prevailed over, and the digger of the pit must fall therein; and the confidence that men have had one in another shall fail, and they will beguile and betray one another, both by counsel and strength; and as they have banded themselves to break you, whom God hath gathered, so shall they band themselves one against another, to break, to spoil and destroy one another; and through the multitude of their treacheries, all credit or belief, upon the account of their solemn engagement, shall fail; so that few men shall count themselves, or what is theirs, safe in the hand of his friend, who hath not chosen his safety and friendship in the pure light of the unchangeable truth of God; and all the secret counsels of the ungodly shall be brought to nought, sometimes by the means of some of themselves, and sometimes by impossibilities lying in their way, which shall make their hearts fail of ever accomplishing what they have determined; and in this state shall men fret themselves for a season, and shall not be able to see the hand that turns against them, but shall turn to fight against one thing, and another, and a third thing, and shall stagger, and reel in counsel and judgment, as drunken men that know not where to find the way to rest; and when they do yet stir themselves up against the holy people, and against the holy covenant of light, and them that walk in it, they shall but the more be confounded; for they shall be helped with a little help, which all the ungodly shall not hinder them of, to wit, the secret arm of the Lord, maintaining their cause, and raising up a witness in the very hearts of their adversaries to plead their innocency, and this shall make them yet the more to vex themselves, and to go through hard-bestead; for when they shall look upward to their religion, to their power, policy, or preferments, or friendships, or whatsoever else they had trusted in, and relied upon, they shall have cause to curse it; and when they look downwards to the effects produced by all those things, behold then trouble, and horror, and vexation take hold on them, and drive them to darkness; and having no help but what is earthly, and being out of the knowledge of the mighty overturning power of the Lord God Almighty, they shall despair and wear out their days with anguish; and besides all this, the terrible hand of the Lord is, and shall be openly manifested against this ungodly generation, by bringing grievous and terrible judgments and plagues upon them, tumbling down all things in which their pride and glory stood, and overturning even the foundations of their strength; yea, the Lord will lay waste the mountain of the ungodly, and the strength of the fenced city shall fail; and when men shall say, “We will take refuge in them,” Nah. iii. 12, 13, they shall become but a snare, and there shall the sword devour: and when they shall say, we will go into the field, and put trust in the number and courage of our soldiers, they shall both be taken away; and this evil also will come of the Lord, and his hand will be stretched out still, and shall bring confusion, ruin upon ruin, and war upon war; and the hearts of men shall be stirred in them, and the nations shall be as waters, into which a tempest, a swift whirlwind is entered, and even as waves swell up to the dissolution one of another, and breaking one of another, so shall the swellings of people be: and because of the hardship and sorrow of those days, many shall seek and desire death rather than life.

‘Ah! my heart relents, and is moved within me in the sense of these things, and much more than I can write or declare, which the Lord will do in the earth, and will also make haste to accomplish among the sons of men, that they may know and confess, that the Most High doth rule in the kingdoms of men, and pulleth down and setteth up according to his own will: and this shall men do before seven times pass over them, and shall be content to give their glory unto him that sits in heaven.

‘But, oh friends! while all these things are working and bringing to pass, repose ye yourselves in the munition of that rock that all these shakings shall not move, even in the knowledge and feeling of the eternal power of God, keeping you subjectly given up to his heavenly will, and feel it daily to kill and mortify that which remains in any of you, which is of this world; for the worldly part in any, is the changeable part, and that is up and down, full and empty, joyful and sorrowful, as things go well or ill in the world: for as the truth is but one, and many are made partakers of its spirit; so the world is but one, and many are partakers of the spirit of it; and so many as do partake of it, so many will be straightened and perplexed with it, but they who are single to the truth, waiting daily to feel the life and virtue of it in their hearts, these shall rejoice in the midst of adversity; these shall not have their hearts moved with fear, nor tossed with anguish, because of evil tidings, Psalm, cxii. 7, 8. Because that which fixeth them remains with them: these shall know their entrance with the bridegroom, and so be kept from sorrow, though his coming be with a noise; and when a midnight is come upon man’s glory, yet they being ready and prepared, it will be well with them, and having a true sense of the power working in themselves, they cannot but have unity and fellowship with the works of it in the earth, and will not at all murmur against what is, nor wish nor will what is not to be; these will be at rest till the indignation passeth over, and these having no design to carry on, nor no party to promote in the earth, cannot possibly be defeated nor disappointed in their undertakings.

‘And when you see divisions, and parties, and rendings in the bowels of nations, and rumours and tempests in the minds of the people, then take heed of being moved to this party, or to that party, or giving your strength to this or that, or counselling this way or that way, but stand single to the truth of God, in which neither war, rent, nor division is; and take heed of that part in any of you, which trusts and relies upon any sort of men of this world, in the day of their prosperity; for the same party will bring you to suffer with them in the time of their adversity, which will not be long after; for stability in that ground there will be none; but when they shall say, come join with us in this or that, remember you are joined to the Lord by his pure spirit, to walk with him in peace and in righteousness, and you feeling this, this gathers out of all bustlings, and noises, and parties, and tumults, and leads you to exalt the standard of truth and righteousness, in an innocent conversation, to see who will flow unto that; and this shall be a refuge for many of the weary, tossed, and afflicted ones in those days, and a shelter for many whose day is not yet over.

‘So dearly beloved friends and brethren, who have believed and known the blessed appearance of the truth, let not your hearts be troubled at any of these things: oh let not the things that are at present, nor things that are yet to come, move you from steadfastness, but rather double your diligence, zeal, and faithfulness to the cause of God: for they that know the work wrought in themselves, they shall rest in the day of trouble. Yea, though the fig-tree fail, and the vine brings not forth, and the labour of the olive-tree ceaseth, and the fields yield no meat, and the sheep be cut off from the fold, and there be no bullocks in the stall, yet then mayest thou rejoice in the Lord, and sing praises to the God of thy salvation. Hab. iii. 16, 17.

‘And how near these days are to this poor nation, few know, and therefore the cry of the Lord is very loud unto its inhabitants, through his servants and messengers, that they would prize their time while they have it, lest they be overturned, wasted, and laid desolate before they are aware; and before destruction come upon them, and there be no remedy, as it hath already done upon many.

‘Oh, London! London! that thou and thy rulers would have considered, and hearkened and heard, in the day of thy warnings and invitations, and not have persisted in thy rebellion, till the Lord was moved against thee, to cut off the thousands and multitudes from thy streets, and the pressing and thronging of people from thy gates, and then to destroy and ruin thy streets also, and lay desolate thy gates, when thou thoughtest to have replenished them again.

‘And, oh! saith my soul, that thy inhabitants would yet be warned, and persuaded to repent and turn to the Lord, by putting away every one the evil that is in their hearts, against the truth in yourselves, and against those that walk in it, before a greater desolation and destruction overtake you.

‘Oh, what shall I say to prevail with London, and with its inhabitants! The Lord hath called aloud, he hath roared out of Sion unto them, but many of them have not hearkened at all, nor considered at all.

‘Well, oh my friends, and thou, oh my soul, return to your rest, dwell in the pavilion of the house of your God, and my God, and shelter yourselves under the shadow of his wings, where ye shall be witnesses of his doings, and see his strange act brought to pass, and shall not be hurt therewith, nor dismayed.

‘Oh, my friends, in the bowels of dear and tender love have I signified these things unto you, that ye might stand armed with the whole armour of God, clothed in righteousness, and your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; and freely given up in all things to the disposing of the Lord, who will deliver us, not by might, nor by sword, nor spear, but by his own eternal, invisible arm, will he yet save us and deliver us, and get himself a name by preserving of us; and we shall yet live to praise him who is worthy of glory, of honour and renown, from the rising of the sun, to the setting of the same, now and forever, amen, amen, saith my soul.’

1667.

In the year 1667 a book came forth in print at London, with this title, Persecution appearing with its open face in William Armorer. This was written by some of the prisoners called Quakers, and contained a relation of the impetuous carriage of the said Armorer, who being a knight and justice of peace, had made it his business many years, one after another, to persecute the Quakers, and from time to time to disturb their religious meetings. From a multitude of cases I meet with in the said book, I will pick out but a few. The aforesaid Armorer came very often to the house of Thomas Curtis, at Reading, to disturb the meeting, taking many persons prisoners from thence, particularly once thirty-four, both men and women, at a time. And when they were brought to their trial, the oath was tendered them as the most ready means to ensnare and to keep them in prison. Among the prisoners taken out of the meeting was one Henry Pizing, who coming to the bar with his hat in his hand, judge Thomas Holt said, here is a man that hath some manners, and asked him, if he would take the oath of allegiance? to which Pizing answered, he had taken it twice already. But said the judge, ‘You were no Quaker then.’ To which the said Henry replied, ‘Neither am I now, but have been many weeks among them, and I never met with any hurt by them, but found them to be an honest and civil people.’ Upon which William Armorer, who had taken him prisoner, said, ‘Why did you not tell me so before?’ to which Henry returned, your worship was so wrathful, that you would not hear me. Then the judge said, ‘He must take the oath again.’ The oath being read, he took it, upon which they let him go free without paying any fees. But they required of him, to go out at a back door, and to come no more among the Quakers. But Pizing told them, he hoped now he was freed, he might go out at which door he would.

Thomas Curtis afterwards being called, the judge asked him, if he would take the oath of allegiance? to which he answered, that he did not refuse the oath upon the account of not bearing allegiance to the king, but because Christ had commanded not to swear at all: for he was persuaded that he had manifested himself to be as good a subject to the king as most in the county, since he came into it, and that if he could take any oath, either to save his estate or life, he professed he would begin with that oath. Then he desired, that the court would be pleased to let some of their ministers show him by the Scriptures, how he might take it, and not break the command of Christ. And the judge called to one Worrel, a priest, that was near him, and desired him to satisfy Curtis in that particular. But the priest putting off his hat, and bowing to the court, desired to be excused, saying, he had had to do with some of them already, but they were an obstinate people and would not be satisfied. ‘Aye,’ said Curtis, ‘this is commonly the answer we have from these men, when they are desired to answer us a question according to the Scripture; for when we make it appear that they give no satisfactory answer to the question, they use to say, we are obstinate.’ Curtis, (whose wife Anne was a daughter of a sheriff of Bristol, that had been hanged near his own door, for endeavouring to bring in the king,) was released after some small time; but quickly taken prisoner again by Armorer, who perceiving that he intended to have gone to Bristol fair, caused him to be brought to an inn, where he told him, ‘You are going to Bristol fair, but I will stop your journey.’ And then commanding the constable to carry him to prison, he was compelled thither without a mittimus.

About this time Curtis’s imprisoned friends wrote a paper, and it is like he had a hand in it, to show the hurt and mischief proceeding from swearing. This paper being sent by him to one of the magistrates, and leave being given him to read it in the council chamber, at the reading of these words, ‘Because of swearing the land mourns,’ Alderman Johnson said that was very true.

Sometime after it happened that T. Curtis, his wife and man-servant being all prisoners, Armorer sent his man to inquire if there were any in the house more than the family, to which the maid having answered no, a little after Armorer came himself, and knocked at the door; but the maid being in fear, did not open it. Armorer then pulling an instrument out of his pocket, picked the lock, entered the house, and searching from room to room, came at length where he found one Joseph Coale, who dwelt in the house, and was not well at that time; and Armorer taking him by the arm, and pulling him down stairs, said to him, ‘Will you take the oath of allegiance?’ Which he refusing, was sent to the house of correction, whither the day before seven women, taken from a meeting, had also been brought. This bold act of picking the lock he did at other times also, and once when the maid was gone out to carry some victuals to her master and mistress in prison. In the meanwhile he searched the warehouse, where was much cloth; and to a woman that was there, and spoke against his picking of the locks, he said, ‘What have you to do with it?’ And ‘Where’s that whore?’ meaning the maid servant. The woman answered him, she had to do with it; for she was to see that nobody did steal any thing out of the house. Besides, Armorer continually made it his business to disturb the meeting which commonly was twice a week; and then he used to curse, and to strike those he found there with a great cane, always sending some to prison. Having once caused three women to be brought before him from the house of correction, he would have them pay a fine for having been at a meeting; to which one Anne Harrison said, ‘Thou hast got our house already that we built, and hast taken away our means; and wouldst thou have me pay more money when I have broken no law? We were but four above the age of sixteen years, and the act says, it must be above four.’ To which Armorer said, his man told him there were six: and two of them ran away. ‘It is false,’ said Anne, ‘there was Frances Kent, but she being a midwife, was fetched out of town; and as for the sixth, she was not there.’ But Armorer not regarding whatever Anne said, spoke in a rude manner, ‘I shall have Mrs. Kent, and then let the best lady in the land want her, she shall not go, except the king or court send for her.’

If I should mention all the enormities of Armorer’s violent behaviour, this relation must needs be very large; and therefore I pass by the most cases, and touch but on some few. More than once it happened when the prisoners being brought to their trial, reproved Armorer because of his injustice, and put him in mind that once he must give an account for his bad deeds; he in a most impudent manner said, ‘you shall see at the day of judgment whose arse will be blackest, yours or mine.’ And when a prisoner told him, it was an uncivil thing for one called a justice to speak such words, he replied, ‘Why, sirrah, what incivility is it? Is not your nose your nose, and your arse your arse?’ Other absurdities the prisoners met with in the court, I pass by, as also how from time to time, they were treated when they refused the oath. From what hath been said already in more than one place concerning the like cases, one may easily guess how matters were transacted here, which sometimes was so grossly, that the spectators showed their dislike. When once the jury for want of good witnesses, could not agree to find the bill, Armorer rose off the bench, and appeared as a witness. But notwithstanding the jury, returning the second time, brought it in ignoramus. Upon which the other justice said to them, that sir William Armorer, an honourable gentleman, had taken his oath also. To which the jury returned, it was true, sir William Armorer was an honourable gentleman, but was a man subject to passion. And they continuing unwilling to bring in the prisoners guilty, the two justices Proctor and Armorer, (for there were then no more on the bench,) for all that would not discharge the prisoners, but sent them to jail again, as seditious persons; for Proctor had told the jury the day before, that if they did not bring in the prisoners guilty, they would make William Armorer and the clerk perjured persons.

Anne, the wife of Thomas Curtis, being called to the bar, and asked if she would take the oath, said, ‘I look on it as a very hard thing, that I should be required to take this oath, being under covert, and my husband being here a present sufferer, for the same thing; for there is no other woman in England, that I have heard of, under covert, that is required to take that oath, and kept in prison on that account.’ But Armorer full of passion, cried, ‘Hold your tongue, Nan, and turn your back.’ And so she, with another woman, that had also been required to take the oath, was sent back to jail, as dangerous and suspected persons. At length some justices procured her liberty; and this so displeased Armorer, that he did not rest before he had her in prison again: but others it seems so eagerly desired her liberty, that she was discharged a second time, though her husband’s goods and money were seized. How a prisoner who spoke something in his own defence, was threatened to be gagged, how girls were sent to the house of correction, and how Armorer coming in winter-time into the meeting, and having got a bucket of water into the room, he himself threw it with a nasty bowl in the faces of some young maidens, I cursorily skipt over. He seemed exceedingly offended with Anne Curtis, who being a witty woman, did not omit, when occasion was offered, to tell of his uncivil behaviour: and therefore he soon had her in jail again; and when it was proposed in the summer-time to discharge some of the prisoners, because of the extreme hot weather, provided they gave security, ‘No,’ said Armorer, ‘Mrs. Curtis shall not go out, though she would give security, but she shall lie in jail till she rot.’ But how wicked soever he was, yet he could not prevent, that all his exorbitant carriage against the Quakers was published in print.

But such behaviour was at that time no rare or uncommon thing; for since persecution was continually cloaked with a pretence of rebellion and sedition all over the country, such were found, who to their utmost power did persecute the Quakers, so called; as among others, one Henry Marshall, priest at Crosthwait in Westmoreland, who being also a prebendary, and having several benefices, yet how great soever his revenues were, kept poor people of that persuasion in prison for not paying tithes to him: and once he said very presumptuously from the pulpit, that not one Quaker should be left alive in England. But this temerity he did not out-live long: for as he was going half-undressed to his chamber to bed, he fell down stairs, as was concluded from the circumstances; for he was found lying on the floor, with his skull broken, wrestling with death, without being able to speak one word; and being taken up he died, leaving his wife and children in such a condition, that by reason of debts they fell into poverty.

About this time a certain popish author, who expressed his name no further than with the letters A. S. gave forth a book called, ‘The Reconciler of Religions; or, A Decider of all Controversies in matters of Faith.’ Josiah Coale, who was very zealous for religion, and well saw what this author aimed at, answered him by a book that appeared in print, with the title of, ‘The Whore unveiled; or The Mystery of the Deceit of the Church of Rome revealed.’ Now although the said A. S. chiefly struck at the Quakers as the worst of heretics, falsely perverting their doctrine, as importing, that the same spirit that reproved Judas of sin, did also induce him to desperation, and to hang himself; yet he omitted not to encounter the doctrine of other Protestant societies; and the Roman church he stated as the true church, from which they were unjustly departed, and to whom they must all return again: for the Roman, said he, was the true church, and not any other; she was the holy Catholic and apostolical church, that was infallible, and could not err, and had the power to work miracles. He also asserted, that she was one in matters of faith, that she was governed by one invisible head Christ, and by a visible head, the pope; and that therefore she was the true church. Now for as much as he held forth at large these and several other positions, so Josiah Coale did not omit to answer all these pretences distinctly and emphatically; for he was an undaunted and zealous disputant. Besides the superstition, idolatry, and cruel persecution of the Roman church, which had taken away the lives of many thousands of honest and pious people, supplied abundant matter to Josiah Coale, to show the papal errors, and clearly to prove her to be the false church. For though he did not deny that the true church was Catholic, or universal, yet he denied that the universality of the church of Rome was a sufficient argument to prove her to be the true church, ‘What church, (thus he queried,) is more universal than the great whore, the false church, who had a name written, Mystery Babylon the Great, the Mother of Harlots, and Abominations of the Earth? Who sits upon the waters, which are peoples, and multitudes, and nations, and tongues? And did not the whole world wonder after the beast that carried the whore? Did she not sit as queen over them all, with her fair profession, or golden cup in her hand, full of abominations, and filthiness of her fornication? And did not all the inhabitants of the earth, and the kings of the earth, drink of the wine of her fornication, and commit fornication with her? Mark how universal was this great whore, the false church; and how confident she was: for she said in her heart that she should see no sorrow; and she glorified herself, and reigned over the kings of the earth. Is not this the very state of the church of Rome at this day? Doth she not reign over the kings of the earth? And hath she not done so long, even for many ages? And how she hath exercised authority over kings, may appear from the case of the emperor Frederick, who was fain to hold the pope’s stirrup while he got on horseback. And did not the great whore, which John saw, drink the blood of the saints and martyrs of Jesus. Surely the histories of many generations past testify this. And was she not to have blood given her to drink? as may appear not obscurely from Rev. xvii. 6.’ At this rate Josiah Coale encountered the masked A. S. but in a more copious way; and thus he answered his assertions. To that, that the church of Rome should always remain to the end of the world, and that therefore she was infallible, J. Coale said, that the bare affirmation of A. S. was no proof, except he would produce that saying of the mother of harlots, ‘I sit as a queen, and am no widow, and shall see no sorrow.’ But indeed that would be a very pitiful argument to prove the church of Rome infallible, unless she was first proved to be the true church. And as J. Coale answered these and other objections at large, so he showed also the vanity of the boast of miracles, of which the church of Rome gloried; and he refuted all the falsities which that anonymous author had belched out against the Quakers, as a people that might be wronged without incurring any danger. But I omit to recite all J. Coale’s answers for brevity sake; yet may make mention of a poem which he wrote sometime before, when he was prisoner at Launceston, in Cornwall, to which the reader is referred, being to be found in Josiah Coale’s works, at page 111.

Thus zealously J. Coale wrote against popery; and yet such hath been the malice of many, that they represented the Quakers as favourers of the church of Rome, though on many occasions they had effectually shown the contrary. But their enemies endeavoured to brand them many ways; and they left no stone unturned to blacken them; to which sometimes false brethren gave occasion: for about this time there were yet many of the adherents of John Perrot, who often ill-treated, and spoke evil of those who did not approve their absurdities. This befel Richard Farnsworth, one of the first preachers among those called Quakers, though he was a man of a notable gift, and on his dying bed he gave evidences of a firm and steadfast trust in God; for it was not long before this time that he fell sick, and deceased at London. Among the many expressions which signified his good frame of mind, and the divine consolation he felt, were also these words, that were taken in writing from his mouth:

‘Friends,

‘God hath been mightily with me, and hath stood by me at this time; and his power and presence hath accompanied me all along, though some think that I am under a cloud for something. But God hath appeared for the owning of our testimony, and hath broken in upon me as a flood, and I am filled with his love more than I am able to express; and God is really appeared for us,’ &c.

This he spoke but a short time before his departure; and exhorted his friends to faithfulness and steadfastness, and that nothing might be suffered to creep in of another nature than the truth they professed, to intermix therewith, saying, ‘No linsey-woolsey garment must be worn.’ Some more consolatory words he spoke, and his last testimony was as a seal unto all the former testimonies he had given for the Lord. And after having lain yet an hour or two, he slept in peace with the Lord, and left a good repute behind, with those who truly were acquainted with him, and knew how zealously he laboured in the ministry of the gospel for many years.

Now I return again to G. Fox, who was this year not only in Wales, but in several other places, without being imprisoned, though at Shrewsbury, where he had a great meeting, the officers being called together by the mayor, consulted what to do against him, since it was said, the great Quaker of England was come to town. But they could not agree among themselves, some being for imprisoning him, and others for letting him alone: and they being thus divided, he escaped their hands.

As several eminent men among those called Quakers, were taken away by death, so others came in who filled their places; among these, and none of the least was Robert Barclay, son of colonel David Barclay, descended of the ancient and famous family of the Barclays, and of Katharine Gordon, from the house of the dukes of Gordon. This his son Robert being born at Edinburgh, in the year 1648, was educated in France and trained up in literature, having lived some years with his uncle at Paris, where the Papists were very active to bring him over to their religion. But though in that tender age he seemed a little to hearken to them, yet growing up in years, and so advancing in knowledge, he soon got a clear sight of their errors. During his stay in France, he not only became master of the French, but also of the Latin tongue; and after he had been instructed in the language of the learned, and other parts of human literature, he returned to Scotland; but during his absence, his father had received the doctrine of the Quakers, and showed by his pious behaviour, that he had not therein acted inconsiderately. Robert Barclay having attained the age of nineteen years, and being come to a good maturity of understanding, found so much satisfaction in the religion which his father made profession of, that he also embraced it, and openly showed before all the world, that the despised name of Quakers, could not hinder him from maintaining boldly that which he now apprehended to be truth. Nay, he grew so zealous and valiant in the doctrine he now professed, that he became a public promulgator of it; and often engaged in disputes with the scholars, not only verbally, but also by writing: for he was so skilful in school learning, that he was able to encounter the learned with their own weapons, and of such quick apprehension, as not to be inferior to the refined wits; his meekness also was eminent; and these qualifications were accompanied with so taking a carriage, as rendered him very acceptable to others. And though his natural abilities were great enough to have made him surpass others in human learning, and so to have become famous among men, yet he so little valued that knowledge, that he in no wise endeavoured to be distinguished on that account. But his chief aim was to advance in real godliness, as the conversation I had with him hath undoubtedly assured me: for I was well acquainted with him; as also with Roger Haydock of Lancashire, a learned and intelligent man, who about this time also came to enter into society with those called Quakers, whose doctrine his eldest brother John Haydock, had received before him. But it so happened, that Roger coming once to his father’s house, was by his mother put on to discourse with his brother John, in hopes that thereby he might have been drawn off from the way of the Quakers. But John gave such weighty reasons for what he asserted to be truth, that he quickly put Roger to silence, which so displeased his mother, who was inclined to the Presbyterian way, that she blamed him for not having held it out longer against his brother: but he told her, ‘It is truth, I dare not say against it.’ Being thus convinced, he also became a public professor of the doctrine of the Quakers, and in time a zealous preacher of it too. And he being a man of great parts, well read and full of matter, many times engaged in disputes with the priests, sometimes making use of his pen also to that end; for he was an unwearied labourer, and suffered the spoiling of his goods, and several imprisonments; and though he was attended with bodily weaknesses, yet he did not use to spare himself, but travelled much to visit the churches in England, Scotland, Ireland, Holland, &c. And he continued steadfast to the end of his days; not only for which, but also because of a special affection he bore me, his remembrance is dear to me still.

I must now make some mention again of Miles Halhead, several times named in this history, who this year coming into Devonshire, and being brought before the magistrates, it was asked him, what business he, (who dwelt in Westmoreland,) had in Devonshire? to which he answered, that he was come there to see his old friends, whom formerly, about ten years ago, he had acquaintance with. One of the magistrates asked him, what were the names of those friends he meant? To which he returned, ‘One Sir John Coplestone, who was then high sheriff of Devonshire; John Page, who was mayor of Plymouth; one justice Howel, who was then the judge of the sessions of Exeter, and one colonel Buffet, who was also a justice at that time.’ One of the magistrates then said to the others, ‘Truly, gentlemen, this man calls these men his friends, yet they have been his persecutors.’ Another of the magistrates then gave him an account, into what pitiful condition those men were fallen, and how they lost their estates; nay, Buffet had been committed to prison for high treason, and was escaped out of jail, and not to be seen in his own country. And further he said to Halhead, ‘Thus I have given you a true account of your old friends; if these men were your persecutors, you may be sure they will trouble you no more: for if they that trouble you and persecute you, have no better fortune than these men, I wish that neither I, nor any of my friends, may have any hand in persecuting of you.’ And thus these discreet magistrates suffered him to go his ways, without meddling with him.

Neither was persecution now generally so hot in England as it had been before, yet the Presbyterians and some others durst not keep public meetings, lest they should be fined; but at times when they have met for worship, they have had tobacco pipes, bread and cheese, and cold meat on the table, having agreed beforehand, that if the officers came in upon them, they should leave their preaching and praying, and fall to their meat. This made G. Fox say to one Pocock, whose wife was one of his friends, ‘Is not this a shame to you who persecuted and imprisoned us, and spoiled our goods, because we would not follow you, and be of your religion, and called us house-creepers?’ ‘Why,’ said Pocock, ‘we must be wise as serpents,’ To which G. Fox returned, ‘This is the serpent’s wisdom indeed. Who would ever have thought, that you Presbyterians and Independents, who persecuted and imprisoned others, for not following your religion, now should flinch away yourselves, and not stand to, and own your own religion.’

G. Fox travelled this year through England, and visited his friends in their meetings. But I pass by his occurrences.

This year also came forth the perpetual edict, so called, in Holland, made as the title recites, for the maintenance of liberty, and for preservation of the unity, and the common quiet of the country of Holland and West-Friesland. By this edict, the chief command of the military forces of the states, and the stadtholdership, (or deputy-ship,) were separated. This was on purpose to prevent the prince of Orange’s becoming too potent, for hereupon followed the suppression of the stadtholdership. But how strong soever this law was made, and confirmed by oaths, yet afterwards it was broken by the instigation of the rabble, as will be seen in its due time. This year also a peace was concluded between England and Holland, not long after the Dutch had burnt some of the king’s ships in the Thames.

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