The Unfortunate Quaker.  
An ACCOUNT of the Strange and wonderful Manner How one Mrs. COCKBID, One of those People called QUAKERS,  
The Wife of an eminent Glover, at the Hand and Glove in Low-Holborn, was found miserably Scorched and parched to DEATH, her Nightrail, the Handkerchief about her Neck and Head-cloaths being entirely BURNED, tho' none of the Woollen in the least touched, after she had been left not much above a Quarter of an Hour in a Room belonging to a Washer-woman, whom she came to visit, lodging at the Chandler's shop over-against Ely-house, altho' there was scarce any Fire in the Grate, with this further heightening Circumstance of Wonder, viz The Child that was left with her being found Crying on its Back in the middle of the Room, etc.  
AMongst all the Instances of Divine Judgement, that Heaven has been pleased to execute in this sinful Age, either as Punishments to particular Persons, or Warnings to others; none hath been more amazing, strange and terrible, than the ensuing Relation I am about to make, all Circumstances duly weighed and considered: And, however Fame augments or substracts to or from Accidents of this Nature, according to Popular Fancy, yet I shall endeavour (on the best Credit) only to relate plain Matter of Fact, and so leave every Person to make such Comments thereon as his own Reason shall best guide and direct him.  
At the Sign of the Hand and Glove, in Lower-Holborn, lives one Cockbid, a Person of good Fame and Reputation, by Profession a Glover, and by Religion (si fas sit ita loqui) one in Communion with the People called Quakers. This unhappy Gentleman's Wife, on Friday last, the 12th of this instant November, went to visit an Acquaintance and Customer of theirs, one Mrs. Islip a Lodger at the Chandler's Shop, opposite to Ely-house, and one who followed the Occupation of washing Gloves. This Quaker-woman the Glover's Wife, as aforesaid, had not long sat (as I am reputably informed, in common Chat about the Affairs of the World with this Washer of Gloves,  this said Washer had occasion to go to a Friend's House in Field-lane: Her Business requiring no long tarriance, she left the Quaker with her Child in the Room, sitting by a little Fire in a very small Grate. Half an Hour was the very utmost of her absence's yet, when she returned, to her inexpressible trouble, fright and amaze, she found the unhappy Quaker miserably scorched to Death, with these very strange and astonishing Circumstances:  
Her Face and Throat dreadfully scorched, or parched; her Nightrail, Handkerchief, and Head-cloaths entirely burnt; but the rest of her , that is her Woollens, without the least symptom of Fire discernible; and all this without any Fire in the Room morally possible to effect it, although such a dead Sleep or Drowsiness had seize d her, that she had fallen into it: And what infinitely more added to the Wonder was, that the Child, left with her, was found thrown on its Back 〈◊〉 the midst of the Room, whose crying after the Mother, who was come into her Landlady the Chandler's Shop, hastened her up.  
It seems ●o me indeed a very strange Accident, that only her Nightrail, the Handkerchief about her Neck, and her Head-cloaths should be burned, without prejudice to her Woollens, since Fire, ●●ke Death, is of that devouring Quality, that it spares nothing, but equally where its furious Foams have got the ascendant, consumes Ermines and Vermin, Linen and Woollen, Silks an● Satin, as well as Rags and ●atters.  
Various a● the Conjectures of People on this unhappy Occasion, especially since the Subject was one of th●t Pure Fold, those Unspotted Lambs, the Quakers: But, indeed, though some would insinuate, Th●● the Woman had taken too large a Dram of that burning Liquor call d Brandy, and consequently, in Judgement to which, that this more terrible Fire had consumed her, yet, upon the strictest Enquiry, we ●nd her no ways addicted to such Beastial Excess. And I could wish all the Pious Sisters of that Communion had no greater Blots in their Scutcheon than she had.  
To be brie● I shall only remind such Conjecturers of what Christ told his Disciples in the 13th of Luke. ●hen some told him of the Galileans, whose Blood Pilate had mingled with their Sacrifice, Supp●●● ye (quoth he) that those Galileans, because they suffered such things, were Sinners above all the Gali●●●ans? I tell you nay; but, except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish Or those eighteen upon whom 〈◊〉 Tower of Siloam fell, and slew them, think you they were sinners above all that dwelled in Jerusalem? I 〈◊〉 you nay. I hearty desire all Christians would make a due Improvement of God's Judgements and that those of this Sect would more particularly take notice of this; for as I am far from ●ading the Memory of the deceased with unjust Imputations, so I am far from asserting the innocence's of that Tribe, well knowing the Puritanical Garb and Demure Look amongst them, to ●e too often but the Cloak of vilest Iniquities.   

London: Printed by J. W: near Fleetstreet, 1697.