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SELECT
HISTORICAL MEMOIRS
OF THE
RELIGIOUS SOCIETY OF FRIENDS,
COMMONLY called
QUAKERS;

A SUCCINCT ACCOUNT OF THEIR CHARACTER AND COURSE DURING
THE SEVENTEENTH AND EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES.

BY
WILLIAM HODGSON.

"We are nothing; Christ is all." — Geo. Fox.

THIRD EDITION.

PHILADELPHIA:
J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO.
1881.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1844, by
WILLIAM HODGSON,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Eastern
District of Pennsylvania.

PREFATORY REMARKS.

There are many thousands of the descendants of
Friends in the United States and in Great Britain,
who know very little of the true character or history
of their forefathers as a church of Christ, and do not
by any means realize the value of those pure principles
of primitive Christianity, which the "people called
Quakers," after a long night of darkness and apostasy,
and the dawning of a better day, was raised up to re
vive in the view of the various denominations of pro
fessing Christians, and to testify to ages yet to come.
A considerable proportion of these, doubtless, cherish a
respect for the memory of their ancestors, and would
willingly, if they could readily, know more than it has
fallen to their lot to know, of the grounds of their re
markable conscientious position, for which they were
made willing to suffer the loss of property, liberty,
reputation, and all the usual comforts of life, and even
life itself.
The author of the following work has had this class
very much in view in preparing a second edition ; and
should any among them be brought through its means
(iii)

IV PREFATORY REMARKS.
to a deep and heartfelt appreciation of the gospel truths
advocated by those servants of the Lord alluded to in
its pages, so as not only to assent to the truth of their
testimony, but to be made willing to be followers of
them as they followed Christ, and thus, through the
Lord's mercy in Christ Jesus, obtain the end of their
faith, even the salvation of their souls, he would be
amply repaid for the little he may have contributed to
so happy a result.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I. PAGE
Introductory remarks on the character of the primi
tive Christian Church, and subsequent corruptions, 11
CHAPTER II.
Early life and convincement of George Fox — his
call to the ministry — and imprisonment — called
a Quaker,  21
CHAPTER III.
Account of some of the doctrines and testimonies
promulgated by the founders of the Society of
Friends,  34
CHAPTER IV.
Convincement of William Dewsbury — and Edward
Burrough,  43
CHAPTER V.
Convincement of Thomas Thompson — and further
transactions of George Fox, .... 51
CHAPTER VI.
Convincement of Francis Howgill — George White
head — and Judge Fell's family — George Fox
still persecuted — first convincements in London, 59
(v)

VI CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VII. page
Rise of the Society in Ireland — William Edmund-
son, ......... 71
CHAPTER VIII.
Convincement of Humphrey Bache, ... 84
CHAPTER IX.
Account of James Parnell — he dies in prison —
George Fox imprisoned in Launceston jail, . . 91
CHAPTER X.
The convincement, ministry, and fall of James Nay
ler — his repentance, and death, .... 104
CHAPTER XI.
First visits of Friends to America — cruel persecu
tions in New England, &c,  115
CHAPTER XII.
Martyrdom of William Robinson, Marmaduke Ste
venson, Mary Dyer, and William Leddra — George
Fox imprisoned in Scarborough Castle, . . 129
CHAPTER XIII.
Convincement of Richard Davies, .... 138
CHAPTER XIV.
George Robinson goes to Jerusalem, and Mary Fish
er to Turkey,  153
CHAPTER XV.
The sufferings of Catharine Evans and Sarah Chee-
vers in the inquisition at Malta — and of John
Philly and William Moore, in Hungary, &c, . 156

CONTENTS. VU
CHAPTER XVI. PAGB
Edward Burrough and Richard Hubberthorn, being
violently seized at the Bull-and-Mouth Meeting,
die in prison, ....... 164
CHAPTER XVII.
The sufferings of Elizabeth Hooton and others in
New England,  170
CHAPTER XVIII.
The extravagancies of John Perrot, . . . 175
CHAPTER XIX.
Rise of the Society in Scotland, .... 179
CHAPTER XX.
Account of Thomas Lurting and the Algerine pi
rates,  191
CHAPTER XXI.
Death of Samuel Fisher — account of his convince
ment, &c,  199
CHAPTER XXII.
The sufferings of Richard Seller, for his testimony
against war, on board the flag-ship "Royal
Prince,"  203
CHAPTER XXIH.
William Penn's early life, and convincement, . . 211
CHAPTER XXIV.
Remarkable conversion of a woman imprisoned for
murder — death of Francis Howgill in prison, . 218

Viii CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XXV. page
Meetings for discipline instituted in the Society —
George Fox goes to America — and returning, is
imprisoned at Worcester,  223
CHAPTER XXVI.
The trial of William Penn and William Mead at
the Old Bailey — destruction of Friends' meeting
houses,  235
CHAPTER XXVII.
The separation of Wilkinson and Story — and the
heresy of Jeffery Bullock,  244
CHAPTER XXVIII.
William Penn's travels in Holland and Germany, . 249
CHAPTER XXIX.
Account of Isaac Penington,  258
CHAPTER XXX.
Pennsylvania granted to William Penn — persecu
tion at Bristol,  266
t-n% CHAPTER XXXI.
The deaths of David and Robert Barclay, and George
Fox,  274
CHAPTER XXXII.
The persecution of Friends during the civil wars in
Ireland, in the reign of James II., . . . 286
CHAPTER XXXIII.
Account of Thomas Story's convincement, . . 299

CONTENTS. ix
CHAPTER XXXIV. PAGB
The labors of Joseph Pike and others in Ireland,
for a reformation from the spirit and habits of the
world,  305
CHAPTER XXXV.
The apostasy of George Keith, .... 310
CHAPTER XXXVI.
Peter Gardiner's journey to Scotland, and death, . 318
CHAPTER XXXVII.
Samuel Bownas comes forth in the ministry — ac
count of his early life — Friends' peaceable testi
mony maintained during the Indian wars in New
England,  326
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
Shipwreck and remarkable preservation of Susanna
Morris — examples of zeal and simplicity in Ire
land,  335
CHAPTER XXXIX.
The trials to which Friends were subjected during the
American revolutionary war, .... 340
CHAPTER XL.
Rise and progress of the Society's testimony against
Slavery,  350
CHAPTER XLI.
Account of John Woolman,  359
CHAPTER XLII.
Account of John Churchman, .... 371

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XLIII.

The sufferings of Friends in Ireland, during the re
bellion of 1798, for their faithful adherence to the
principles of peace,  377
CHAPTER XLIV.
The separation in Ireland in 1799, &c, . . . 391
CHAPTER XLV.
Thomas Shillitoe's early life and convincement —
his remarkable gospel labors in Ireland, &c, . 397
Conclusion,  410

HISTORICAL MEMOIRS

RELIGIOUS SOCIETY OF EMENDS.

CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY REMARKS ON THE CHARACTER OF THE
PRIMITIVE CHRISTIAN CHURCH, AND SUBSEQUENT COR
RUPTIONS.
THE religion instituted by our Lord and Saviour Jesus
Christ, and spread abroad in the world by his blessed
Spirit accompanying the labors of his inspired apostles, was
beautiful for its simplicity and adaptation to man's spirit
ual need. The preceding Mosaic dispensation, while it en
joined devotion of heart to the Creator, according to the
measure of light vouchsafed, was nevertheless characterized
by a multitude of outward observances, suited to the state
of the people, which did not make the comers thereunto
perfect, yet pointed to the substance of that which was to
follow. But when our blessed Lord, in his coming, suffer
ings and death, had fulfilled and abrogated the ceremonial
requirements of the law, he introduced the more glorious
dispensation of the Gospel, in which life and immortality,
and the mysteries of redeeming love, were brought to light.
The former dispensation was outward and typical, the latter
inward and spiritual; in which, through the regenerating
power of divine grace, the heart was to be made the temple

12 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF
of the Holy Ghost. Christ declared himself to be "the
way, the truth and the life;" that no man can come to the
Father but by Him ; and that " except a man be born again,
he cannot see the kingdom of God." It was not in outward
appearance only, that a change was to be made in the natu
ral man ; but the axe was to be laid to the root of the tree,
and every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit, was to be
hewn down and cast into the fire.
The lives of his followers were to be characterized by
holiness, and watchfulness unto prayer ; every individual
seeking a knowledge of God for himself, instead of depend
ing on a class of men set apart for the purpose of exclusively
conducting the affairs of religion, as had prevailed among
the heathen, and even in degree among the Jews themselves.
This knowledge of God and of the way of life was to be
obtained by the repenting sinner, through inward waiting
of the soul on the Lord himself in humility and sincerity ;
through submission to the cleansing operations of the " Word
quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword,
piercing to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit ; " and
through unreserved obedience to the secret manifestations
of the Divine Spirit, which was promised "to lead into
all truth." The disciples were distinctly informed by the
Saviour, that He was " the Light of the world," and that He
who was with them in that prepared body, should henceforth
be in them, by his blessed Spirit. To this Light therefore,
even Christ in them the hope of Glory, the primitive Chris
tians looked, as the great Guide of life. This it was that
was to " sanctify them wholly ; " so that all were to be " kings
and priests unto God," and to seek to be made " perfect as
the Father who is in Heaven is perfect."
The followers of our crucified Lord, desirous of avoiding
every thing that might minister to the natural vanity of the
human heart, and thus imperceptibly lead away from that
humility which was known to be an essential requisite to

THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 13
the character of a true Christian, renounced the vanities of
the world, and set an example of simplicity in life and con
duct. Not that they affected singularity, as the ascetics,
hermits and monks afterwards did ; but remembering the
declaration of the Saviour, "whosoever doth not bear his
cross, and come after me, cannot be my disciple," they dared
not to sanction in their own practice any incentives to a
worldly spirit, or the gratification of " the lust of the eye
and the pride of life."
Neither dared they, in defiance of the law of universal
love taught them by their adorable Redeemer, to cherish in
their hearts those dispositions which lead man to destroy his
fellow-man, either in revenge or in self-preservation. War
they knew to be prohibited by the whole tenor of " the gos
pel of peace," no less than by the positive injunctions of
Him who said, "love your enemies — do good to them that
hate you, and pray for them that despitefully use you and
persecute you." Many instances of deep suffering proved the
hold which this peaceful principle had on the minds of the
early believers. We need hardly cite the well known exam
ple of the martyr Maximilian, who, even in the third century,
nobly declared in the face of death, that " because he was a
Christian" he could not take arms nor engage in war, even
though at the command of the Roman proconsul ; for the
refusal to fight was generally acknowledged to be a distin
guishing feature of the Christian profession.*
Their outward callings were to be such as should not
clash with their testimony to purity and holiness and self-
denial ; nor were they at liberty, like the people of the
heathen world around them, to please themselves with frivo-
* Tertullian (De Corona militis) says emphatically, "Will the child
of peace engage in battle, to whom it is not. becoming even to dis
pute with hia fellow-men at law ?" — " Faith admits not the plea of
necessity." 2

14 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF
lous amusements, calculated to drown serious thought, and
call away their attention from the one great business of this
life, a preparation for the life to come. Hence the primitive
Christians could not join their fellow-men in attending the
atrical entertainments; and a modern European author*
declares : " It was no uncommon mark, by which a man's
conversion to Christianity was ascertained, that he wholly
withdrew from the theatre" — where "much took place
which violated the moral feelings and decencies of Chris
tians ; and even where this was not the case, yet even then
the hour-long pursuit of idle and vain objects — the unholy
spirit which reigned in these assemblies — the wild uproar
of the collected multitude, seemed hardly to suit the holy
seriousness of the Christian's priestly character."
All oaths they declined, as positively forbidden by Christ
and his apostle James, and confined themselves to a simple
affirmation or denial.
Sincerity and Truth were indeed stamped upon their char
acter. Their lives and actions were to be examples of the
one, and all their words of the other. Hence they could
not address their fellow-man in the plural number, as if he
were more than a common man like themselves ; a practice
which then began to prevail, in flattery towards the empe
rors, and soon rapidly spread to other men who desired the
honor or deference of their supposed dependents.
The church was the community of the faithful disciples
of Christ, the world over — and a church was a collection of
these disciples wherever assembled, under the presidency of
Christ their holy head, owning no other, waiting for the help
and guidance of His blessed Spirit, and moving only accord
ing to the pointings of His heavenly finger. These, being
* Neandcr, of Berlin, author of a " History of the Christian Re
ligion and Church." See also Tertullian, " De Spectaculis -," and
Cyprian, Ep. vi. ad Eucratium.

THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 15
truly gathered in His name, knew Him to be " in the midst
of them."
Their worship was to be spiritual — "in spirit and in
truth." The preaching of the gospel was to be " not in the
words which man's wisdom teacheth, but which the Holy
Ghost teacheth," and " in demonstration of the Spirit and
of power." As it was to be " freely received " from Him
who ascended up on high and " gave gifts unto men," so it
was to be freely dispensed to the people, without any pe
cuniary consideration, and in simple reliance on the open
ings of the divine gift from time to time. It was not to be
dependent on school learning for its qualification, nor on the
will of man for its appointment ; but the preacher, of the
gospel was to be " called of God as was Aaron ; " and, whether
male or female, was to " minister in the ability which God
giveth." A state of silent waiting before the Lord was
evidently the right posture of mind in which his poor and
dependent creatures should appear before Him, and essential
to the performance of divine worship. There can be no
question that their devotional exercises were of the most
simple nature, consisting primarily of this waiting together
on the God of their lives, and secondly of prayer and praise
to the author of all good, and preaching the gospel of the
kingdom, for the edification of the churches or the conver
sion of men. And that these exercises were extempore —
without previous preparation — there never has been a doubt.
Equally certain is it, that those who were exercised
among them as pastors, teachers or apostles, claimed no
salary or emolument as the price of their services ; but gen
erally obtained their temporal subsistence by their own
exertions, in common with their brethren; though when
actually prevented from attending to their outward affairs,
by travelling in the service of the Gospel, they considered
themselves at liberty to partake of the hospitality of the
churches, freely offered for their accommodation.

16 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF
For a time, the church continued practically to carry
out these principles; and some of them were even for sev
eral ages generally acknowledged. But a change came
gradually over this pure and simple state. Not that the
system of religion instituted by the divine author of Chris
tianity was less calculated in its simple form for an ad
vanced state of civilization than for the condition of the
world when the Son of God appeared in the prepared body.
A most admirable feature of genuine Christianity is its
perfect adaptation to man in every state of mental ad
vancement, and in all possible variety of outward circum
stances. But man's natural, unregenerate will is ever seek
ing an easier way to the kingdom of heaven than the way
of the cross and of unreserved obedience to the Light of
Christ shining in the heart. And as the community of
professing Christians became more and more composed in
part of individuals who had received their profession by
birth, and not by the thorough heart-searching work of
conversion, this feature of seeking an easier way, rapidly
gained ground ; and the life of religion being much lost,
form usurped the place of power.
We have no means of ascertaining at the present day, at
what time the system of hiring the services of preachers
crept into the church ; but there is reason to believe that it
commenced at an early date after the decease of the apos
tles, and of those who had enjoyed the privilege of personal
association with them. The necessity for all to be "kings
and priests unto God," in all holiness and spiritual conver
sation, was gladly forgotten by the seekers after ease; and
it was found much more agreeable to the carnal mind and
inclinations, to fall back upon the old practice of a priest
hood, and depend on the ceremonial exercises and perform
ances which others could do for them, than to "work out
their own salvation with fear and trembling."
A class of men was accordingly set apart, whose business

THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 17
it should be to take the {euro) care of souls ; and this class
soon arrogantly assuming the epithet of clergy, (xx^poj, in
heritance or lot,*) as if they only were the "Lord's portion"
and the " lot of his inheritance," disdained to obtain their
livelihood by labor or common business; but professing
that their time must be entirely taken up in caring for
those dependent on them for "the means of grace," claimed
to be maintained at the expense of the community. Thus
did a hireling priesthood supplant both the free unpaid
ministry of the gospel, and the individual priestly charac
ter of the spiritual Christian ; and thus was a wide door
opened, both for further corruptions in the profession of
Christianity, and for relaxation of the solemn responsibil
ities resting upon each individual.
When once the hireling ministers had established them
selves in the professing Christian church, they were not
slow in discovering that their influence over the flock, and
consequently their pecuniary interest, would be greatly en
hanced by the introduction of one ceremonial performance
after another as necessary to salvation or edification. In
stead, therefore, of guarding the profession of religion from
innovation, they eagerly promoted various corruptions;
which gradually changed Christianity (so called) from the
character of a pure and spiritual, heart-searching and
heart-cleansing religion, to that of a system of lifeless per
formances, " which could never make the comers thereunto
perfect." * " Clerus (a *Xij/joy, sore, quia clerus sors Dei, vel cleri sors Deus,) —
the clergy or churchmen. Hcec notio apud Latinos scriptores, S. Hie-
ronymi temporibus paulo antiquior." (Beatson & Ellis's Ainsworth.)
So also. Neander; "The Greek names <cXvpoi and jcXtj/mm had even in
Cyprian's time been applied in an unevangelic sense, &c, — '01 r«ri 'o
k\tip->; tov Qeov, or, 'ojv'o K\rjpoi 'o Qsos 'eon — in imitation of the Le-
vites." History of the Christian Religion and Church, vol. 1,
Sect. ii. i. B.
2*

<8 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF
Undoubtedly there were other causes which contributed
to this mournful result. Originally, Christians had be
lieved that all days were to be kept alike holy unto the
Lord — though the church was wont to come together at
stated times — more especially on the first day of the
week — for divine worship, religious edification, and mu
tual encouragement for good. This principle of the neces
sity of holiness and mental introversion every day of our
lives, was manifestly calculated to incite the mind to con
tinual watchfulness as in the presence of the omniscient
Lord, and thus to promote the entire purification of man's
nature. But gradually, as the institution of a caste of
priests took place of the maintenance of the doctrine that
all are called to be "priests unto God," so the doctrine that
one day was more holy than another, took the place of
keeping all days holy; and the notion consequently gained
ground, that on the six working-days of the week, men were
not required to be so inward and spiritual in their minds,
nor so pure in their lives and conduct, as on the one which
was more particularly set apart for religious purposes.
Another source of the corruptions of the church was the
desire to make the way easier for heathens to embrace
nominal Christianity. In pursuance of this object, many
heathen ceremonies were engrafted under new names into
the system of Christianity, and some even of their idola
trous "holy days" were incorporated into the Christian cal
endar, under the pretended patronage of " Christian saints,"
instead of the heathen deities. This made the change from
heathenism to the new profession comparatively nominal,
and introduced great multitudes into the visible church,
who were destitute of the spirit and life of Christianity.
This result, as well as the priestly influence, was greatly
increased by the Emperor Constantine's adoption and pat
ronage of the Christian religion; the power of money and
worldly rank and authority, being thrown by that event

THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 19
into the hands of its professors, it became thenceforth, with
only occasional and temporary exceptions, the religion of
the state, and the whole Roman Empire appeared as the
protector of the religion of Christ. Men did not perceive
how much this religion was changed from the state of pu
rity and simplicity in which it emanated from the Lip of
Truth. It is true, the Almighty had not left himself with
out witnesses for his Truth in all times of the world; many
sincere-hearted ones here and there were touched by the
power and light of his blessed Spirit, and bore from time
to time a faithful testimony against the idolatry and super
stition which had usurped the place of Christ. But they
were comparatively few, and were not able to stem the tor
rent of bigotry and corruption which overwhelmed the
church. Rome now became the centre of (so-called) religious
influence and power ; and these corruptions were, from mo
tives of human policy, amazingly multiplied during a long
succession of ages. But the human mind was at length
awakened, and public attention was directed to the corrupt
state of the profession of Christianity. The reformation
from Popery, which took place in the sixteenth century,
freed a great part of Europe from many of the most glaring
perversions of Christian doctrine and practice; and there
can be no doubt that the Divine Hand promoted this great
revolution, and guided, to a certain extent, the proceedings
of those engaged in the work.
It appears, however, that even the pious and enlightened
men who were instruments in bringing about this mighty
change, stopped short of arriving at an unclouded view of
the nature of primitive Christianity. Excellent as were
many of their spirits, and far advanced as they were before
their fellow-professors of the name of Christ, and thirsting
as they did after a redemption of the world from the gross
pollutions of Popery, they were nevertheless trammelled in

20 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF
some degree with the dogmas of their school education, and
weakened by their dependence on the arm of flesh for
support, and gave not themselves up unreservedly to the
thorough operations of that Holy Comforter in the secret
of the soul, which, as it is faithfully attended to, guides
" into all truth." They nobly stepped forward, and claimed
a place in the attention of mankind for the Holy Scriptures,
which the Papacy had shut up as a book not fit for general
perusal ; and this was a great point gained. But it is to be
feared that they did not sufficiently regard the all important
truth, that these Holy Scriptures themselves point to a higher
rule than their own pages, for the direction of the mind of
man, even the manifestations of the Spirit of Christ in the
soul, by whose Light alone the heavenly mysteries contained
in them are to be rightly understood. In considering the
Holy Scriptures as the "word of God," and the primary
guide of life and rule of faith, they fell into the error of
valuing the branch above its parent stem ; an error which
prevented them from seeing clearly the whole beauty, and
excellency, and purity, and spirituality of the gospel dis
pensation. They boldly opposed the groundless assumption of the
Pope to be the head of the church, and dragged to shame
the enormities practised by the priesthood in the name of
religion and for the sake of filthy lucre. But they went not
down to the root of the evil — to destroy the whole system
of hireling ministry — so that what they deemed the gospel,
still continued to be bought and sold ; and the result was as
might have been anticipated, that a priesthood whose tem
poral subsistence depended on the implicit confidence placed
in them by the people, still retained that people more or less
in the outward court, in a state of blind reliance on them
and their external performances, " ever learning, but never
able to come to the knowledge of the Truth."
It was accordingly reserved in the counsels of inscrutable

THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 21
wisdom, for weak and despised men, in the eye of the world,
to be the instruments by whom the attention of mankind
should be powerfully directed to the inward principle of
religion, the Spirit of Truth, operating in every heart, and
the church should be called back to a state of purity and
spirituality, such as characterized it in the days of the
apostles and primitive believers.

CHAPTER II.
EARLY LIFE AND CONVINCEMENT OF GEORGE FOX — HIS
CALL TO THE MINISTRY  AND IMPRISONMENT  CALLED
A QUAKER.
IT was about the middle of the seventeenth century, that
the Lord was pleased to visit the British nation, and
some other portions of professing Christendom, with a more
clear and certain sound of the word of life, and proclama
tion of the way of salvation, than had been known for many
ages past.
That nation was still heaving in great unsettlement, from
the effects of the awful storm which had uprooted the foun
dations of its ancient social, religious, and political estab
lishments, deprived Charles the First of his throne and life,
and placed Oliver Cromwell at the head of the English
commonwealth. As, under Charles, great laxity of morals
and neglect of duty had prevailed among the ministers of
the " established church," many of whom had given them
selves up to idle and licentious practices ; so on the other
hand, when these were turned out, to give place to the Puri
tans under the common wealth,- great outward strictness and

22 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF
loud pretensions to sanctity, often unaccompanied by the
real life of religion, were the road to preferment, and were
consequently in many instances assumed as a mere cloak
over a worldly spirit, from ambitious views.
The profession of religion, nevertheless, was certainly held
in much higher esteem than before. In the camp, as well
as at the fire-side, religion was the absorbing topic. The
republican army abounded with preachers ; and preaching,
praying, and disputing on doctrines, were daily to be heard
among both officers and soldiers : though much of this was
extremely superficial, and a pharisaical notion of soundness,
and contempt for others, too much prevailed.
The spirit of inquiry, however, which had arisen with the
reformation of the sixteenth century, had greatly shaken
the general confidence in the priesthood ; men now con
sidered themselves at liberty to form their own opinions on
matters relating to their eternal condition ; and the public
assemblies for divine worship were continually scenes of
religious dispute between the contending parties. The late
intestine wars, with the troubles thereby brought on many
families throughout the nation, were instrumental in turning
the minds of some to an anxious desire after a resting-place
for the agitated soul. There were those who had learned in
sore adversity, duly to estimate the emptiness and uncer
tainty of all the gratifications of this world, and to pant
after a knowledge of the Source and Centre of happiness
and peace. And the Lord left not to themselves these sin
cere-hearted seekers after a solid foundation for their hopes;
but led many of them into greater degrees of spiritual-
mindedness ; in which they were enabled to perceive and
feel the unsatisfactory nature of those forms of religion,
which, notwithstanding the partial reformation from Popery,
still stood in the place of pure and primitive Christianity.
But these were scattered abroad in the country, as sheep
having no shepherd nor fold ; they were unknown to each

162-1] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 23
other, and not gathered into the enclosure of a visible society
professing what their souls yearned after. They knew not
but that they were alone in the deep exercise and spiritual
travail which they experienced ; and consequently they
hailed as a most welcome message the testimony borne by
George Fox and his fellow-laborers to pure and spiritual
religion. They found a life and savor in his ministry very
different from the dead and formal discourses to which they
had been wont to listen ; which was a cordial to their pant
ing spirits, and led them to a more intimate knowledge of
that Divine and inspeaking Word whom their souls had
sincerely loved and earnestly waited for.
George Fox, the honored instrument of gathering these
scattered and retired ones into a visible church, was born at
Drayton, in Leicestershire, England, in the year 1624. His
father was noted for the justice and honesty of his character,
and his mother, who was of the stock of the martyrs, was a
woman accomplished above most of her station in the place
of their residence. From a child, George displayed a
remarkably religious, inward, quiet frame of mind. At
the same time he was observing, even beyond his years, fre
quently to the astonishment of those who heard and con
versed with him, especially on religious topics. He was
brought up in country business, and was skilful in the tend
ing of sheep; an employment which well suited a mind
seeking after solitude and innocency, and was a just emblem
of his subsequent ministry and service in the fold of Christ.
The restraining and sanctifying operations of Divine Grace
were experienced by him whilst very young ; and the Lord
taught him to be faithful in all things, inwardly to God, and
outwardly to man. His own account says that when he was
about eleven years of age, he experienced pureness and
righteousness; he was taught to keep strictly to the truth
in all things, not daring to use the least degree of prevari
cation : his words were to be few and savory, seasoned with

24 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1643.
grace ; and he was to observe temperance both in eating and
drinking, using the creatures of God as servants in their
places, to the glory of Him who created them.
When he was about nineteen years of age, being on busi
ness at a fair, his mind was greatly distressed, in observing
the wantonness of some professors of religion, who scrupled
not to indulge themselves in excess of drinking, and what is
termed drinking of healths. He bore his testimony against
their folly, and went away ; but could not rest the following
night, which he spent in walking up and down, and in
prayer to the Lord. He was answered by this divine inti
mation: "Thou seest how young people go together into
vanity, and old people into the earth; thou must forsake
all, both young and old, and keep out of all, and be a
stranger unto all." Soon after this, he believed it to be his
duty to leave his relations, and for some time he led a soli
tary life, intimately communing with none but his Maker
and Redeemer; and was thus gradually weaned from all
dependence on his fellow-man, in matters relating to the
safety of the soul. He travelled through various counties
of England, avoiding the company of the high but empty
professors of religion ; and many were the deep exercises and
sore temptations which befell him for several months ; in
which he was led to review his past life, and consider whether
his own wrong doings were the cause of his present distress.
He knew not at that time that those deep baptisms of spirit
were necessary to prepare him for the work whereunto his
Master was about to call him. After a while, being fearful
that his long absence might grieve his relations, he returned
home, and continued there with some intermission, for more
than a year, in great sorrows and troubles, often spending
the night in walking alone, and in religious meditation.
Some of the priests of the neighborhood sought his
acquaintance, and reasoned with him at various times on
religious subjects, but could give him no satisfaction. In

1645.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 25
their carnal wisdom they knew not his condition, and could
not understand the nature of his mental conflicts. One bid
him take tobacco, and sing psalms. Another, who was
accounted an experienced man, he says he found only like
an empty hollow cask. A third disgusted him by his
unchecked passionate temper, ruffled by the least trifle,
showing the possessor to be far from that state of meekness
and calmness which would have become his profession. A
fourth priest advised medicine and bleeding ; so that George
found them miserable comforters, and entirely ignorant of
his need.
One of his interviews with Nathaniel Stevens, the priest
of Drayton, with whom he often conversed, and who fre
quently made the observations of this enlightened youth
serve as embellishments of his own sermons, is worthy of
particular notice. This priest asked George, why Christ
cried out upon the cross, " My God, my God, why hast thou
forsaken me?" and why he said, "If it be possible, let this
cup pass from me; yet not my will, but thine be done."
George told him, " that at that time the sins of all mankind
were upon Him, and their iniquities and transgressions;
with which He was wounded, which He was to bear, and to
be an offering for as He was man, but he died not as He was
God ; and so, in that He died for all men, and tasted death
for every man, He was an offering for the sins of the whole
world." This, he says, he spoke, being then in measure
sensible of Christ's sufferings, and what he went through ;
and the priest remarked that " it was a very good answer,
and such as he had not heard." This comprehensive reply
to the inquiring priest, who with all his learned preparation
for the ministry, could not understand the mysteries of
redeeming love, furnishes abundant refutation ofthe calumny
by which George Fox has been maliciously charged in
modern times with unsoundness in the very fundamental
articles of the Christian faith. It shows, in a manner not

26 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1647.
to be contradicted, that this heavenly-minded man had a
clear and full belief in the Saviour as the eternal Son of
God, and yet as having partaken also of the nature of man ;
in the sacrifice which He made of himself upon the cross for
the sins of mankind ; and in the atoning virtue and univer
sal efficacy of this sacrifice to the redemption of the souls
of men, through living faith and obedience to His Divine
Light in the heart. And that this sound belief in these
important doctrines was not merely the belief of George
Fox's youthful days, is proved by his thus fully recording
this transaction in after-life.
During this time of opening manhood, not only was he
exercising himself in the duties of Christian benevolence to
his destitute fellow-creatures, but his mind was enlarging in
experience, and in acquaintance with the doctrines of pure
Christianity, as distinguished from the systems taught in the
schools and colleges. He was enabled to see that notwith
standing men's high professions, none were true believers but
those who " were born of God and passed from death unto
life," and that being brought up at the universities or col
leges was not enough to qualify a man to be a minister of
Christ. Here again he was brought off from a reliance on
any but the Lord Jesus Christ, the great Minister of minis
ters, who would teach his people himself. He was also
shown that he was not to apply the word church or temple of
God to any building ; the Lord, according to the apostle's
testimony, dwelling in the heart of man and making that
his temple, and a church of Christ being a collection of
living disciples, not the walls within which they or others
might assemble.*
Early in the year 1647, he felt an impression of duty to
travel into Derbyshire and some parts of the counties of
* "Not the place, but the congregation of the elect, I call a
church." — Clement of Alexandria, Stromat. vii. 715 B.

1647.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 27
Leicester and Nottingham. He met with some serious
friendly people, of tender spirits, among whom he "had
some meetings and discourses." But his mental exercises
still continued. " I fasted much," says he, " and walked
abroad in solitary places many days, and often took my
Bible and went and sat in hollow trees and lonesome places
till night came on ; and frequently, in the night, walked
mournfully about by myself; for I was a man of sorrows, in
the times of the first workings of the Lord in me." During
all this time he kept himself much as a stranger, " seeking
heavenly wisdom and getting knowledge from the Lord ;
and was brought off from outward things, to rely wholly on
the Lord alone." He was here instructed that Christ Jesus
was he who could speak effectually to his condition. He
was made a partaker also, at times, notwithstanding his deep
and long-continued provings, of that joy and peace, which
is peculiarly the Christian's portion; in which he could
exclaim : " Thou killest and makest alive ; all honor and
glory be to thee, O Lord of glory !" Thus his desires after
the Lord grew stronger, and zeal in the pure knowledge and
love of God, which surpasses all the knowledge that men
have in the natural state, or can obtain by history or books.
And being by these deep baptisms weaned from all confi
dence in his 'own powers, his mind became more and more
divinely enlightened to understand the mysteries of the Holy
Scriptures, many deep things therein being clearly opened
to him ; as well as the dark state of the professors of religion
generally, who could talk greatly of Christ and of his blood,
and yet knew it not in their own experience, but trampled
upon it in their airy notions, and fed upon the words of
man's own wisdom, or such as they had stolen out of the
Scriptures of Truth.
During this year (1647) his mouth appears to have been
first opened of the Lord in gospel ministry. Several per
sons in the parts where he travelled were convinced of the

28 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1647.
truth, and united with him in the bonds of the Gospel.
And in the year following they began to have great meet
ings of the people, and a mighty power and work of God
there was among them, to the astonishment of both people
and priests. At this time he was an example of silence,
endeavoring to bring people from self-performances; testi
fying of, and turning them to the light of Christ within
them, and encouraging them to wait in patience, and to
feel the power of it to stir in their hearts, that their knowl
edge and worship of God might stand in the power of an
endless life, which was to be found in the light, as it was
obeyed in the manifestation of it in man. He was led to
see clearly, and to open to those who heard him discourse,
these three great practical truths ; that all men are called
and may be enabled to be perfect, or free from the power
as well as guilt of sin — that none can understand the
Scriptures aright, without the assistance of the same Spirit
by which they were written — and that every man is en
lightened by the divine Light of Christ, which would lead
all to salvation if its manifestations were humbly and faith
fully obeyed. And when he observed drowsiness upon the
people when they ought to have been watching unto prayer
and looking to the Lord, he told them "they must come to
witness death to that sleepy, heavy nature, and a cross to
it in the power of God, that their minds and hearts might
be on things above.
He now received an intimation from the Lord that he
was to go forth more publicly into the world at large, to
preach the Word of life, which he had received; and it
may be well to hear his own account of the nature of his
Christian ministry.
"I was sent," he says, "to turn people from darkness to
light, that they might receive Christ Jesus. I was to direct
people to the Spirit, that gave forth the Scriptures by
which they might be led into all truth, and so up to Christ

1647.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 29
and God, as they had been who gave them forth. I was to
turn them to the grace of God, and to the truth in the
heart, which came by Jesus. — I saw that Christ died for all
men, and was a propitiation for all, and enlightened all
men and women by his divine and saving light, and that
none could be a true believer but who believed in it. — With
and by this divine power and Spirit of God, and the light
of Jesus, I was to bring people off from all their own ways,
to Christ the new and living way ; and from their churches,
which men had made and gathered, to the church in God,
the general assembly written in heaven, which Christ is the
head of; and off from the world's teachers, made by men,
to learn of Christ, who is the way, the truth, and the life ;
of whom the Father said, 'This is my beloved Son, hear ye
Him ; ' and off from all the world's worships, to know the
Spirit of Truth in the inward parts, and to be led thereby ;
that in it they might worship the Father of spirits, who
seeks such to worship him. — And I was to bring people off
from all the world's religions, which are vain; that they
might know the pure religion, might visit the fatherless,
the widows, and the strangers, and keep themselves from
the spots of the world. — I was to bring them off from all the
world's fellowships, and prayings, and singings, which stood
in forms without power ; that their fellowship might be in
the Holy Ghost, and in the eternal Spirit of God ; that they
might pray in the Holy Ghost, and sing in the spirit and
with the grace that comes by Jesus; making melody in
their hearts to the Lord, who hath sent his beloved Son to
be their Saviour, and caused his heavenly sun to shine
upon all the world. I was to bring people off from Jewish
ceremonies, and from heathenish fables, and from men's in
ventions and worldly doctrines — with their schools and
colleges for making ministers of Christ, who are indeed
ministers of their own making, but not of Christ's; and
from all their images and crosses, and sprinkling of infants,
3*

30 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1649.
with all their holy days (so called) and all their vain tra
ditions which they had gotten up since the apostles' days,
which the Lord's power was against ; in the dread and au
thority of which, I was moved to declare against them all,
and against all that preached and not freely, as being such
as had not received freely from Christ.
" Moreover, when the Lord sent me forth into the world,
he forbade me to put off my hat to any, high or low ; and
I was required to thee and thou all men and women, with
out any respect to rich or poor, great or small. And as I
travelled up and down, I was not to bid people Good mor
row, or Good evening ; neither might I bow or scrape with
my leg to any one. And this made the sects and profess
ors to rage. But the Lord's power carried me over all, to
his glory, and many came to be turned to God in a little
time ; for the heavenly day of the Lord sprung from on
high, and broke forth apace, by the light of which, many
came to see where they were."
These two last mentioned testimonies against the pride
of man could not be tolerated by those who loved to " re
ceive honor one of another, but sought not the honor that
cometh from God only." It put the priests, magistrates
and other high professing people in a great rage, when they
found themselves addressed in the same simple style which
was used to those whom they disdained as their inferiors.
They considered not that this was consistent with Holy
Scripture, and even with the rules of grammar taught in
their schools ; but they soon proceeded to inflame the pas
sions of the people against George Fox and his uncompro
mising fellow believers, and subjected them to great suffer
ings from the violence of unrestrained and wicked men.
He was also led to exhort all men to justice in dealing,
and teachers and parents in particular to a religious care
to bring up children in the fear of the Lord, and guard
them from that which would encourage lightness and van-

1650.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 31
ity. Tavern keepers he cautioned against supplying peo
ple with liquor to their hurt; judges were exhorted to just
decisions ; and all were warned against plays, shows and
music, as burdening the pure life and stirring up the mind
to vanity and folly.
In the year 1649, when he was about twenty-five years
of age, being at Nottingham on a First-day, he felt con
strained to go into the public place of worship. The priest
took for his text the words of Peter : " We have also a more
sure word of prophecy, whereunto ye do well that ye take
heed, as unto a light that shineth in a dark place,'' &c;
and he told the people that this referred to the Scriptures.
George felt the power of the Lord contradicting in his mind
the carnal reasoning of the priest, and was made to cry out,
" Oh, no, it is not the Scriptures," and to inform them that
it was the Holy Spirit, by which the holy men of God gave
forth the Scriptures, and which would lead into all truth :
instancing the case of the deluded Jews, who possessed the
Holy Scriptures, yet not coming to the light of the Holy
Ghost, but reading them in their own spirits, rejected
Christ, the bright and morning star, and persecuted his
apostles and followers. The people were greatly enraged at
this, and seizing George, they put him into a filthy prison.
He was that night taken before the magistrates ; and after
wards the sheriff, who sent for him to his own home, was so
much reached by the Lord's convincing power, that he went
forth into the market-place and preached repentance to the
people in the streets. After remaining in prison some time,
George Fox was released, and was made instrumental at
Mansfield Woodhouse, in calming the mind of a distracted
woman, who afterwards received the truth, and continued
in it to her death. At the same place, he was moved to
enter the public meeting-house, and declare the truth to the
priest and people. And though such interruptions and
even disputes with the ministers were very common in that

32 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1650.
day of general excitement, and considered as one part of the
liberty claimed by those who protested against the super
stitions of the Romish priests, yet the doctrines which
George Fox preached were so unpalatable, that they fell
upon him in a rage, struck him down, and almost stifled
him ; and he was cruelly bruised with their hands, their
sticks, and even with their Bibles. He was then put into
the stocks, kept there some hours, and after being threat
ened with whipping, was at length set at liberty. Some
however were that day convinced of the truth, to the re
joicing of his heart.
The next year, 1650, being at Derby, at a time when
there was a great lecture preached, he was led to make
some communication to the people at the close. They
heard him pretty quietly, but an officer soon came and
took him before Justice Bennet, and other magistrates of
the town. George Fox spoke boldly for the truth, exhort
ing them to look unto Christ within them, as the great
sanctifier, and not to man ; and bidding them in the words
of Holy Scripture, to tremble at the word of the Lord.
Justice Bennet, at this, derided him and his fellow be
lievers, calling them Quakers; a designation which has
ever since been used by the world to distinguish us from
other professors of religion. These justices were exceed
ingly puzzled to know what to do with George, but after
spending about eight hours in examining him, and dis
puting among themselves, they committed him to the house
of correction or common jail, for six months. Being thus
kept in confinement, he did not forget those who had been
reached through his ministry, and brought by the con
vincing power of God to a like precious faith; but ad
dressed several epistles to them to confirm them in faith
fulness, and remind them that it was Christ Jesus, inwardly
revealed, on whom strength was laid, and to him they must
look to enable them to persevere to the end. He also

1651.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. So
wrote several letters of solemn warning to the magistrates
and priests of Derby, who had committed him. The time
of his commitment at length being nearly expired, he was
brought before a body of soldiers in the market-place, and
desired to accept the station of captain in the army of
the commonwealth against King Charles. But when it
was found that he could not be brought over to their
purposes, they remanded him to prison, and kept him
nearly six months longer in a filthy dungeon, without any
bed, and among about thirty felons. He was preserved,
however, in great patience, and many occurrences evinced
from time to time the strengthening and enlivening pres
ence of the Lord with his tried servant. After a while he
was again strongly urged to join the army, and his contin
ued refusal was the occasion of still closer confinement.
His persecutors at length became uneasy among them
selves, and set him at liberty after an imprisonment of
nearly one year. After his liberation from the dungeon of
Derby prison, he continued to travel abroad in the ministry
of the gospel, holding numerous meetings, and being instru
mental to the gathering of many sincere souls into the fold
of Christ. Many of these afterwards became eminent fel
low-laborers with him in the cause of pure Christianity,
and the process of gradual convincement of some of them
evinced in a remarkable manner, the immediate operations
of that divine Spirit which was promised by the Saviour of
men, to lead into all truth.

34 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF

CHAPTER III.
AN ACCOUNT OF SOME OF THE DOCTRINES AND TESTIMONIES
PROMULGATED BY THE FOUNDERS OF THE SOCIETY OF
FRIENDS.
ALTHOUGH it would be foreign to the object of this
work, to develop at much length the Christian doc
trines held by George Fox and his fellow-laborers, yet a
short insight into some important principles most surely
believed by them, may be necessary to enable us to pursue
their history with a clear conception of their real character
as advocates of the Truth in Christ.
They never hesitated to declare their belief in " the three
that bear record in Heaven" — that there is one God and
Father of all, of whom are all things, — one Lord Jesus
Christ, by whom all things were made, who was glorified
with the Father before the world began, who is God over
all, blessed for ever — and one Holy Spirit, the promise of
the Father and the Son, the Leader and sanctifier and com
forter of his people — and that these three are One, as the
Holy Scriptures declare.
They believed that the one only wise, omnipotent and
everlasting God was the Creator of all things, and is the
preserver of all that he hath made. And they owned and
truly believed that Jesus Christ was his beloved and only-
begotten Son, conceived by the Holy Ghost, and born of
the virgin Mary — in whom we have redemption through
his blood, even the forgiveness of sins — that he is the ex
press image of the invisible God, the first-born of every
creature — by and for whom all things in heaven and in
earth were created — that he offered himself without spot
unto God, a sacrifice for sin, and tasted death for every man

THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 35
being crucified for us in the flesh, without the gates of Jeru
salem — that he rose again the third day for our justifica
tion, ascended into Heaven, and now sitteth at the right
hand of God ; being made the propitiation for our sins, and
not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world.
They rejoicingly believed in Him as their Redeemer and
Saviour, the Captain of their salvation, their Mediator with
the Father, and the author and finisher of their faith —
their wisdom, righteousness, justification and redemption —
the Shepherd and Bishop of their souls — and sincerely ac
knowledged that there is no other name under heaven given
among men, whereby we must be saved.
The doctrine of immediate divine revelation, which had
been lost sight of in the apostasy, was revived and abun
dantly preached by them as the glory and life of the gos
pel dispensation. While other professors, too generally,
were resting in a bare belief of what Christ had done for
them, without them, and in a literal knowledge of the Holy
Scriptures, these converted and regenerated witnesses for
the truth as it is in Jesus, were made partakers of that
faith which is produced by the testimony of the Spirit of
Christ in the heart ; by which they not only received Him
as their Redeemer and Saviour, in what he graciously did
and suffered in the flesh, as the propitiation for sin, and as
their mediator and intercessor ; but likewise in his inward
and spiritual appearance, to baptize and sanctify them ; so
as to prepare their souls to partake of the fulness of the
blessings which the Gospel confers.
Concerning the Holy Scriptures, they believed that they
were given forth by the Holy Spirit of God, through the
holy men of God, who spake as they were moved by the
Holy Ghost. They believed that these blessed writings are
to be read, believed, and fulfilled (he that fulfils them is
Christ) ; and that they " are profitable for doctrine, for re
proof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, that

36 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF
the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto
all good works"— and that they "are able to make wise
unto salvation, through faith which is in Christ Jesus."
They believed that the testimony of the Spirit is that
alone by which the true knowledge of God, or of the Holy
Scriptures, can be revealed — that the revelations of the
Spirit in the heart are the great guide of life, by which true
Christians are to be immediately led and governed; and
that these revelations can never contradict, or lead men to
slight or lightly esteem the testimony of Holy Scripture,
which proceeded from the same Spirit in holy men of old.
Hence they also believed that faith is not a natural fac
ulty of the human mind, to be exercised according to man's
will ; and that there can be no effectual faith, but that
which is produced by the immediate operation of the Holy
Spirit in the heart, inclining and enabling us to believe
what it reveals to us there, as well as those things which
are recorded in the Scriptures.
They plainly declared their conviction, a conviction am
ply confirmed by what they knew of their own hearts, that
man, who was created in the image of God, fell by trans
gression from this blessed state, and lost the heavenly
image ; so that all men are by nature fallen, degenerated
and dead to the divine life, and subject to the power of sin ;
though not punishable for Adam's sin, until they make it
their own by actual transgression. But they further de
clared the all-consoling truth, that God, who of his infinite
love sent his Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, into the world,
who tasted death for every man, hath given to every man,
Jew or Gentile, Barbarian, Scythian, bond or free, of what>
soever nation or place, a certain day or time of visitation
by the light of His Holy Spirit in the heart, during which
it is possible for him to be saved and to partake of the ben
efits of Christ's death — that these visitations of divine
Grace draw men to God, convict for sin, baptize into a

THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 37
death of the first and carnal nature, and if received and co
operated with, work the salvation of all, even of those who
are ignorant of the history of Adam's fall, and of the death
and sufferings of Christ.
While they fully believed that remission of sin and re
conciliation with God is obtained only through Christ and
his most satisfactory offering, they were also convinced that
no man was justified while he continued in sin, whatever
might be his profession of faith. They preached the indis
pensable necessity of holiness, without which the Scriptures
declare that no man shall see the Lord ; and they placed
justification where the apostle places it, in connection with
being washed and sanctified, but not as preceding sanctifi
cation. They believed that this sanctification is produced
by the mighty work of Christ within us, whereby the
power, nature, and habits of sin are destroyed ; that men
truly repenting and believing, are, by the propitiatory sac
rifice of Christ without us, through the mercy of God, justi
fied from the imputation of sins that are past; and that all
this is effected, not by a bare act of faith separate from
obedience, but in the obedience of faith ; Christ being the
author of eternal salvation to none but those that obey
him. This brought them to that great doctrine, that all man
kind are called to perfection, and offered the attainment,
through perfect obedience, of a state of freedom from sin
even in this life, though not from a liability to fall again,
through unwatehfulness, under the power of temptation.
And this doctrine of perfection was a groundwork for their
uncompromising integrity, and strict attention to what many
termed little things, but which were essential to their char
acter as truly faithful Christians, because required by the
manifestations of the divine light of Christ in their con
sciences. Christian baptism they held to be, not the washing of the
4

38 HISTORICAL MEMOIES OF
body with water — ¦" the putting away the filth ofthe flesh "
— but the powerful work of the Holy Spirit in the hearts of
all who submit thereto, refining them from the pollution
of sin, winnowing away the transgressing nature, and pre
paring the soul for being gathered into the heavenly garner,
as grain separated from the chaff.
In like manner they believed, that the communion of the
body and blood of Christ, is not the partaking of outward
bread and wine ; but is inward and spiritual — a real partici
pation of His divine nature in measure, through faith in
Him, and obedience to his Spirit in the heart ; by which
participation the inward man is daily nourished, strength
ened, and kept alive unto God.
Acceptable worship, they often testified, could not be
offered, but through the assistance of the Spirit of Christ,
our mediator, by whom only we can approach unto God ;
and that in order to experience this necessary qualification,
it is our duty to have the mind withdrawn from all outward
objects, and engaged in reverently and humbly waiting upon
the Lord in the silence of all flesh ; that He may be pleased,
through the revelation of his Spirit, to give us a true sense
of our needs, and a knowledge of his will, and enable us
to offer a sacrifice well pleasing in his sight ; whether it be
in silent mental adoration, the secret breathing of the soul
to him, the ministry of the gospel, or vocal prayer and
thanksgiving. They were brought off, by the spirit of meekness and long-
suffering which characterizes true Christianity, from all wars
and fightings, and from that mind which promotes the war
like disposition ; being enabled to see their entire inconsist
ency with the gospel of the Prince of peace, and that their
origin was, as said the apostle James, in those " lusts which
war against the soul." Thus they could never take up arms,
even though, like the primitive Christians, they should suffer
the loss of liberty, property and life, for their faithful

THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 39
adherence to the injunction of the Saviour, " Love your ene
mies ; do good to them which hate you ; and pray for them
that despitefully use you and persecute you."
Nor did they dare to reason away the plain prohibition
of our Lord : — " Swear not at all, but let your communica
tion be yea, yea, nay, nay ; for whatsoever is more than
these, cometh of evil." And this testimony was the occasion
of abundant suffering from the powers of this world.
These were the fundamental doctrines of the Society which
the Lord was now gathering into a visible church, under the
instrumentality of George Fox and his fellow-laborers.
Other views which sprang from these as a branch from the
parent stem, may be gathered in perusing the ensuing pages.
But one of these branches, connected as it is with that purity
of language which the Gospel was to restore to the believers,
it may be well in this place to develope in some degree of
detail. It is the heathen origin of the common names of
months and days, which crept into use among professing
Christians, along with other corruptions, and which Friends
saw plainly to be a relic of a false religion, and inconsistent
with the Holy Scriptures.
"And in all things that I have said unto you, be circum
spect ; and make no mention of the names of other gods ;
neither let it be heard out of thy mouth." — Exodus, xxiii. 13.
" For then will I turn to the people a pure language."
Zephaniah, iii. 9.
These heathen names may be thus explained.
January — This name was derived from Janus, an ancient
king of Italy, whom heathen superstition had deified; to
whom a temple was erected in Rome, and the month so
called was dedicated to his image.
February — was so called from Februa, a word denoting
purgation by sacrifice ; it being usual in this month, for the
priests of the heathen idol Pan, to offer sacrifices, and to
perform certain rites, supposed to conduce to the cleansing
or purgation of the people.

40 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF
March — was so denominated from Mars, the pretended
god of war, whom Romulus, the founder of Rome, assumed
to be his father.
April — is said to have derived its name from the Greek
appellation of Venus, ('A$>pu,) an imaginary goddess wor
shipped by the Romans in this month, who was pretended
to have sprung from the foam ('aijjpos) of the sea.
May — The month so called is said to have derived its
name from Maia, the mother of Mercury, another pretended
heathen deity, whom the Romans worshipped in this month.
June — So named from Juno, another supposed goddess of
the Romans.
July -—was so called from the great Roman warrior Julius
Caesar, who gave his own name to this month, instead of its
former name of Quintilis, or the fifth. He was deified by
his superstitious admirers.
August — So named in honor ofhis successor, the Emperor
Augustus. This month was previously called Sextilis, or
the sixth. He also was deified, and called "the Divine
Augustus." The remaining four months, called September, (meaning
Seventh,) October, (Eighth,) November, (Ninth,) and Decem
ber, (Tenth,) were very properly so called until the alteration
of the Calendar adopted in England in the year 1752 ; by
which what is called the New Style came into use, so that
those four months have ever since been, not what their Latin
names indicate, but the Ninth, Tenth, Eleventh and Twelfth ;
so that it is no longer consistent with that truth incumbent
on all Christians, to designate these months by those names.
There can be little doubt that the numerical mode of nam
ing the months is the most ancient, as it is unquestionably
the most plain, simple and rational.
The Days of the Week were also called, by our idolatrous
Saxon ancestors, after the names of the idols or other objects
which they worshipped on the respective days. Thus,

THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 4i
The First day of the week was by them called Sunday,
fi om their customary adoration of the Sun on that day.
The Second day they called Monday, from their custom
of worshipping the Moon on that day.
The Third day, Tuesday, in honor of one of their idols
called Tuisco.
The Fourth day, Wednesday, from Woden, another of
their idols.
The Fifth day was called Thursday, from the name of an
idol called Thor, worshipped on that day.
The Sixth day was called Friday, from Friga, an imagi
nary goddess worshipped by them.
The Seventh day, they styled Saturday, from Saturn or
Seater, another imaginary deity.
The candid mind, on a consideration of the above, must
acknowledge that the continued use of these names involved
an acknowledgment or sanction of the gross idolatry of the
heathen, contrary to the express command of Scripture, that
" the names of the idols should no more be heard."
And these were not all the corruptions introduced in
reference to the names of days and times. For when the
profession of the Christian religion became national in the
Roman empire, multitudes of heathen priests, who saw their
present craft in danger, embraced the profession of Christi
anity from selfish views, and labored with too much success
to find employment by imposing on the people a new set of
ceremonies and sacrifices, bearing some resemblance to those
to which in their state of heathenism they had been accus
tomed. From this corrupt source sprang the Popish sacri
fice of the Mass, the celebration of which at particular times,
(some of them in connection with the worship of saints) gave
rise to the names of Michaelmas, Martinmas, Christmas, and
the like.
Another division of the testimony of Friends to a pure
and simple language, resulted from the conviction that strict
4*

42 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF
truth must be invariably maintained by the Christian, and
that he is not at liberty to flatter the natural pride of his
fellow-men. They perceived that pride and fashion had
introduced the practice of addressing a single individual by
the word " you," as if he were two or more ; and when they
could no longer thus depart from the pure language of Holy
Scripture, they found to their cost, by the sufferings which
they underwent on its account, that this pride of the human
heart was greatly roused at the idea of being addressed in
the same manner as was customary towards those who were
considered as inferiors. This confirmed them in the belief
that the custom was corrupt in its origin ; and they steadily
persevered, through much persecution, in adherence to the
Scripture example of "thou" or "thee" to a single indi
vidual, however exalted in station or character.
The same fear of fostering the pride of man ledsthem to
discard the use of the common modes of salutation, some of
which implied what was often absolutely false. Thus, the
terms " Master " or " Mister," and " Mistress," they could
not conscientiously make use of, towards persons who stood
not in that relation to them ; nor could they dare to offer
the appearance of an approach to man-worship, which was
involved in the customary practice of bowing and courtesy -
ing, and taking off the hat ; though this was a supposed
honor which stuck very close to the worldly heart, and for
faithfully testifying against which, Friends often endured
most grievous sufferings.

1651.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 43

CHAPTER IV.
CONVINCEMENT OF WILLIAM DEWSBURY — AND EDWARD
BURROUGH.
ONE of the most eminent instruments among those who
united with George Fox in 1651, was William Dews-
bury. He was born at Allerthorpe in Yorkshire, early in
the seventeenth century, of religious parents, who were
doubtless instrumental in cherishing that susceptibility of
mind, which formed, at an early age, a striking feature in
his character. When he was only eight years old, the Lord
visited him by his Spirit, clearly intimating to the ear of
his mind — " I created thee for my glory — an account thou
must give me for all thy words and actions;" and his
understanding was enlightened to perceive that he had
lived in disobedience to the Lord's will. About this period
he lost his father ; and while lamenting with tears over this
solemn and affecting event, he heard in the secret of his soul
what appeared to him a voice, saying : " Weep for thyself,
for thy father is well." So powerful was the effect produced
on his mind by this extraordinary incident, that from that
time forward he spent many hours, which in childhood are
usually devoted to play, in prayer and fasting, under a sense
of his lost and undone condition. As he advanced in years,
he became increasingly sensible of the corrupt propensities
of his nature. The condemnation which attended him, was
that he lived without the true knowledge or fear of the Lord
his Maker ; though there is no reason to apprehend that he
exceeded the ordinary levity of young persons, or went
beyond the bounds of what is commonly termed morality.
But it was gradually given him to see the indispensable
necessity of a thorough change of heart, and of being " born

44: HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1651-
again of incorruptible seed, by the Word of God, which
liveth and abideth forever." Under these powerful impres
sions, between his eighth and thirteenth years, he endeavored
to alter the course of his life. He ceased from what he was
now led to consider the vain conversation in which he had
hitherto lived, and became thoughtful and serious far beyond
his years. He began to read the Holy Scriptures and other
books on religious subjects from his own choice, and was
often engaged in mourning and prayer before the Almighty,
although at that time he had received no clear understand
ing as to how or where the Divine Being was to be found —
even in the heart of man himself, which is declared to be
" the temple of the Lord." His soul was " athirst for God,
for the living God;" and he could exclaim with David,
" when shall I come and appear before God ? " It was in
vain that he diligently availed himself of such opportunities
as were afforded, of learning, through the public teachers
of religion, and other outward means, what he was thus
anxious to know and enjoy in himself. The outward and
carnal views of that class of persons were not calculated to
satisfy his searching spirit ; and he found that such a knowl
edge of the Father and of the Son, as is life eternal, was
not to be attained through those physicians of no value.
All his own endeavors also, made in his own strength and
will, to render himself acceptable to God, were equally fruit
less ; and thus was he brought in entire prostration to the
foot of the cross, feeling his need of Christ the Saviour, and
that without him his soul could not live.
Until the thirteenth year of his age, his chief occupation
was that of a shepherd's boy, the retirement of which was
very congenial to his feelings. But soon after this, he was
placed apprentice to a cloth-weaver near Leeds, wishing to
have more frequent opportunities of intimate association with
a people, whom he believed to have attained to a more
advanced state of religious purity, than that to which he

1651.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 45
had been accustomed. But though he attended assiduously
at their places of worship, and discoursed frequently with
them on the subject of his anxiety, yet he found himself
greatly disappointed, and met with no rest nor peace to his
weary soul, " in that worship of God which the world had
set up." He was told by his associates that the bread and
wine which they called the Sacrament of the Supper, were
the seals of the covenant ; but when he received them, he
found nothing sealed to his soul therewith. The emptiness
of this ceremony was at length shown to him, and he was
instructed that " the seal of the covenant was the Spirit of
Christ, and no outward element ; and that the Supper was
the body and blood of Christ, which the world doth not
know." About the time that he attained the age of twenty-one
years, the civil wars broke out in England, which resulted
in the death of King Charles the First. William, in com
mon with many ardent and well meaning persons, fell into
a snare which the enemy of all righteousness, who was a
murderer from the beginning, laid for them, through the
plausible reasoning of some who professed to be ministers
of Christ, and who designated the joining of the army ofthe
Parliament, in what was termed a defence of civil and
religious liberty, as " going up to the help of the Lord
against the mighty." William Dewsbury was taken with
this bait, not at that time seeing the inconsistency of the
sword, for the disciples of the Prince of Peace ; and entered
into the army, supposing he was fighting for the gospel.
But in this too he was disappointed. At length he was
favored to perceive that in all his efforts hitherto, to " find
out the Almighty to perfection," he had been " seeking the
living among the dead," and looking out for that which was
only to be found within; and that it was in mercy that he
had been baffled in all these attempts made in his own
strength and wisdom. " Then," says he, " my mind was

46 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1651.
turned within by the power of the Lord, to wait in his coun
sel, the light in my conscience, to hear what the Lord would
say. And the word of the Lord came to me and said : 'Put
up thy sword into the scabbard ; if my kingdom were of
this world, then would my servants fight.' Which word
enlightened my heart, and discovered the mystery of iniquity ;
it showed the kingdom, of Christ to be within, and that its
enemies being within and spiritual, my weapons against
them should also be spiritual, — the power of God."
Favored with this clear intimation of the Lord's will, he
put up his weapon into its sheath, left the army, and re
sumed his former occupation of a weaver ; and waiting on
the Lord in the way of his judgments, he was brought un
reservedly to cast himself upon the mercy of God in Christ
Jesus, and to yield to His all-wise disposal. He was fa
vored with clear evidence that free redemption was laid up
for him in the Lord Jesus, and that though " the wages of
sin is death, yet the gift of God is eternal life, through
Jesus Christ our Lord." And having passed through the
fiery baptisms of the Holy Ghost in the deep provings
which have been described, he was effectually convinced
that true religious knowledge is not to be acquired as men
obtain knowledge in the things of this world, by the ordi
nary cultivation of the mental faculties alone ; but that we
must wait in great self-abasement at the feet of Jesus, to
receive such an understanding as the natural man does not
possess, and in which alone spiritual things can be rightly
comprehended and appreciated.
Having thus tasted of the good word of life and of the
powers of the world to come, William Dewsbury began to
feel, about the year 1646, a strong engagement of mind, in
clining him to declare to others what the Lord had done
for his soul, that his fellow-creatures might also be per
suaded to seek after a like precious experience. But it is
remarkable, that though he was freely given up in mind to

1651.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 47
undertake the work of a preacher of the gospel, yet the
necessary commission for undertaking it had not then been
given. He was commanded by the secret intimations of
the Holy Spirit, to wait until the year 1652, when, it was
prophetically revealed to his understanding, there would be
a greater opening in the minds of the people to receive the
doctrines of spiritual truth. During the six year3 which
intervened, he continued principally about his own home,
and had to pass through various conflicts of mind, intended
doubtless for the further trial of his faith, and for his more
full preparation for the great work and service to which he
was appointed. And by the power of the divine Word, he
was armed with patience to wait in the Lord's counsel,
through all his trials, until it pleased the Almighty to set
him free.
It was in the year 1651 that this spiritually-minded man
first met that great instrument in gathering the Society of
Friends, George Fox. This occurred near Balby in York
shire, where George was holding meetings, after his libera
tion from the dungeon at Derby. William Dewsbury and
his wife (whom he had married about two years before,) at
tended one of these meetings, held at Lieutenant Roper's, at
Synderhill Green ; and George Fox relates, that after the
meeting (it being moonlight) William and Ann Dewsbury
came to him in the field, and confessed to the truth.
Doubtless their hearts rejoiced to find that as face answer-
eth to face in a glass, so they could read the lines of their
own experience in what George had delivered, and could
extend to him the right hand of precious fellowship. And
in the eighth month of the following year, he clearly re
ceived the commission which had been previously appointed
for him, in the following secret intimation from the Lord :
' The leaders of my people cause them to err, in drawing
them from the light in their consciences. — Freely thou hast
received, freely give and minister ; and what I have made

48 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1652.
known to thee in secret, declare thou openly." The power
of which message constrained him to leave his family, and
to run to and fro, to declare to souls where their Teacher
is, even the Light of Christ in their consciences, as the
Lord had made manifest to his own soul. His first journey
on this account was into Westmoreland, Cumberland and
Lancashire, where he was subjected to severe sufferings for
the truth's sake, being beaten almost to death, by a mob,
for speaking in one of the public places of worship.
Soon after this, being at Sedberg, in Yorkshire, on a
market-day, he was constrained to preach the Gospel at
the market cross, and to warn the people to turn from the
error of their ways, to the grace of God and the light in
their own consciences. He was hereupon again beset by a
concourse of rude persons, who endeavored violently to
push him down. Setting their backs against the high
stone cross, which was in a tottering condition, and their
hands against this faithful man, they threw down the cross
with the force exerted, and broke it on the ground. It was
remarkable that no one was injured by the accident, as the
people were thickly collected around him.
He was afterwards imprisoned at York, having been
pursued during his peaceful labors in the gospel, twice at
tacked by a constable with an iron fork, and violently
urged along the street of the small town where he wa3 ap
prehended at night, his captors rudely shouting as they
went from one tavern to another. He was now brought
to trial, but at the conclusion of the assizes was cleared by
proclamation, and set at liberty. He was however, about
a month afterwards, again seized, as he was preaching to the
inhabitants of Derby, and immured once more within the
walls of a prison ; and this unchristian treatment became
in after-life, his very frequent experience.
Other faithful men were alike prepared, under the
Lord's own forming hand, for the reception and right

1652.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 49
appreciation of the truths preached by George Fox and
his friends.
Edward Burrough was born in the barony of Kendal in
the county of Westmoreland, England, about the year
1635. His parents had the reputation of honest and up
right persons, and brought up their son with as good an
education as the neighborhood afforded. He was a boy
of very good understanding, and of knowledge far beyond
his years. His intimate friend Francis Howgill testifies of
him, that " he had the spirit of a man when he was but a
child. I may say, gray hairs were upon him when he was
but a youth, for he was clothed with wisdom in his infancy.
He was inclinable from his youth upwards, to religion —
always accompanied the best men, who walked in godliness
and honesty — was never known to be addicted to any vice
or bad behavior — but feared the Lord, and walked up
rightly according to the light and knowledge received. In
his natural disposition, he was bold and manly, dexterous
and fervent, and what he took in hand, he did with his
might ; loving, kind and courteous, merciful and flexible,
and easy to be entreated. His delight was always among
good people, and to be reading the Scriptures, and his very
strength was bent towards God."
This was his character among his associates. But he
himself, under a sense of his deficiencies, says that he was
wanton and light, and lived in pleasure, without the fear
of God, or knowledge of Him but by hearsay or tradition.
When, however, he grew up towards twelve years of age,
something stirred within him, and showed him that there
was a higher religion than that which he was exercised in.
He then inquired after the Presbyterians, under the idea
that they were nearer the truth than what he had known ;
and would go several miles on a First-day to hear the best
of their preachers. As he grew into favor with them, he
left off some of his lightness and vanity ; but instead of it,
5

50 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1652.
spiritual pride crept in, and he became puffed up in some
degree with his attainments. It pleased the Lord, however,
in mercy, not to let him rest here ; but he was struck as
with a terror by the convicting power of Divine Grace;
and after his exercises in prayer, he often heard this voice
speaking to his soul : " Thou art ignorant of God ; thou
knowest not where he is, nor what he is : to what purpose
is thy prayer ? " Fear and dread came upon him, and he
was made to give up even " to the moles and to the bats "
his formal exercises, performed in his own will, and all re
liance on his attainments in human learning. He lost also
his dependence upon the preachers, in whom he had so
much delighted, and was favored with some experience of
joy and peace, and of water from the living fountain, to
the refreshment of his soul. But even in this state, the
enemy of man's happiness was busily intent on spoiling the
work, and infused into his mind the poisonous leaven of
self-righteousness and self-activity. " Thus," says he, " be
ing ignorant of the Cross of Christ, to keep low in it, I ran
before my Guide, and grew up into notions, to talk of high
things ; for it was my delight to comprehend in my busy
mind." This was a very dangerous state, of which, at
length, in great mercy, he was made sensible. " The wit
ness," he says, " which lay slain in me, would give me no
rest. Something which shined deep in me, showed me ig
norance in all profession, and I was put to a stand many
times in myself at those things which were come to pass."
About this time, which was about the 17th year of his
age, he met with George Fox, who had much reasoning
with him and others, at the house of one Miles Bateman,
at Underbarrow. Edward says, " it pleased the Lord to
speak to me by him, that I was in the prodigal's state, and
above the cross of Christ; not in the pure fear of the Lord,
but full of corruption and the old nature. I saw myself to
be in bondage to my own will, and to my own lust, and full

1652.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 51
of airy notions and imaginations. Then trouble aud dis
tress came upon me, such as I had never known ; and I
separated from all the glory of the world, and from all my
acquaintance and kindred, and betook myself to the com
pany of a poor despised people called Quakers. And now
am I one in that generation, which is and ever was hated
by the world, the chief priests and pharisees." Being thus
brought freely to an acquaintance with that which he had
long sought in vain among the hireling teachers and high
professors of what they themselves knew not, in a short
time (even that same year, viz. 1652,) being as George Fox
declares, " endued with power from on high," he came forth
in the work of the ministry, and approved himself a faith
ful laborer therein, travelling up and down, and preaching
the gospel freely.

CHAPTER V.

CONVINCEMENT OF THOMAS THOMPSON — AND FURTHER
TRANSACTIONS OF GEORGE FOX.
WE are not informed who were the parents of this indi
vidual, nor of the place of his birth, but this is sup
posed to have been in the north of England, and prob
ably between the years 1630 and 1640. His own account
relates, that even when he was very young, it pleased the
Lord to incline his heart to seek after Him, and that
when he was about eight years old, he was deeply im
pressed with this language, which sounded in his mental
ear : " Now is the axe laid to the root of the trees ; every
tree therefore that bringeth not forth good fruit, shall be
hewn down and cast into the fire." Strong desires were

52 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1652.
raised in his youthful mind, that he might become one of
the trees bearing good fruit ; and listening to the voice of
the Lord in his soul, He discovered to him the evil of many
things practised generally by such as he then was, excited
in his mind an abhorrence of sin, and preserved him from
much of the wickedness which prevailed around him. For
several years he was earnestly engaged, both by frequent
attendance on those who were accounted the most able
preachers, and by a diligent perusal of the Holy Scrip
tures, which he much loved, to obtain an understanding of
the things of religion ; but his mind nevertheless was too
much outward, knowing not the Light of Christ Jesus to
guide him, and depending unduly on instrumental helps.
But, alas ! as he grew up and increased in knowledge, his
heart was not kept so near the Lord as formerly, nor was
his care so great to walk in holiness of life before Him ; for
he began to take up with a false rest, apprehending that
all was well with him, because he knew much of the Scrip
tures, and could repeat great part of the sermons and other
exercises of the priests. These blind leaders of the blind
also increased his danger by flattering him with smooth
words, telling him that he was a hopeful boy and needed
not to doubt that it would be well with him. The Lord,
however, in great mercy, showed him that his soul was still
in want, and that all was not right with him, though he
could speak so much of God, Christ and faith. Good
desires were again raised in his mind towards the Lord;
his false rest was broken up; and he hungered for the
bread of life to satisfy his longing and weary soul. This
was not however to be found among the hirelings and
formal professors amongst whom he had been seeking the
way of truth. He says, " then I went to some meetings of
the people called Independents ; but neither there could I
find what my soul wanted, viz. the Life of Jesus, which I
could not be satisfied without the enjoyment of. So, being

1652.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 53
tired out with going from one to another, the Lord in his
goodness was pleased to make known to me that the man-
made ministers were not of Him, but were such as ran, and
he never sent them. Therefore they did not profit the peo
ple at all, but were Babylonish merchants, which made a
prey upon the people. And this word sounded in me:
' Come out from amongst them my people ; be not par
takers with them in their sins, lest ye also partake of their
plagues.' So in a little time I left them, and grew retired
in my mind, delighting much to be alone, meditating on
the things of God, or reading such books as were published,
of the experiences of those that had any openings in the
way of life.
"And in the forepart of the year 1652, it pleased the
Lord to order his faithful and valiant servant and mes
senger, dear George Fox, into these parts ; but I had not
then opportunity to see him, though I greatly desired it.
But some of my familiars that were with him, gave me an
account of his manner of life, and also of his doctrine.
They told me, that in his behavior he was very reserved,
not using any needless words or discourses that tended not
to edification, and that he used not respect of persons; very
temperate in his eating and drinking ; his apparel homely,
yet decent ; and as for his doctrine, he directed people to the
light of Christ in their consciences, to guide them to God.
"At the hearing of these things, though at second hand,
the Lord was pleased mightily to work upon my mind, and
brought me to a wonderful retiredness ; and my mind was
truly turned, inward to wait on him and desire his teach
ings. So by degrees, the Lord manifesting one thing after
another, by the working and power of God, self came to be
denied, and I was, in many things humbled to the cross ; so
that several of my neighbors and acquaintances marvelled
1,0 see me so Changed, and some said I would be distracted.
But their words were little to me; for as I obeyed the Lord,
5*

54 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1652.
I found peace and satisfaction, and the return of God's
love into my bosom. And as I gave up any thing for
truth's sake, I found peace, and more strength was given
me ; so that I can truly say, it is good to keep in the coun
sel of God, and to give up wholly to serve him ; for he is
good to them that trust in him ; and they that faithfully
serve him shall in nowise lose their reward.
'After I had for some time been thus inwardly exercised
in the things of God, and the work of the Lord prospered
in my inward parts, this word arose in me : ' Have not the
faith of our Lord Jesus Christ with respect of persons.'
And it was upon me to bear my testimony for God, in
speaking the plain, simple, and I may say, pure language
of Thee and Thou to every particular person, of what de
gree or quality soever. But the enemy prevailed with me
to resist the motion of the Spirit of Life; and so a veil
came over my heart, and the pure principle which justified
me while I was faithful to God, did now judge and con
demn me for my disobedience. Yet I persisting in it,
stopped the work of God; and the enemy who had thus
prevailed upon me, laid other baits and snares to catch my
feet in, and drew me again into some of the pleasures of
this fading world, which I had once denied myself of. But
great is the mercy and compassion of the Lord, who suf
fered me not long to rest in that carnal security, but was
pleased in his infinite love to discover to me my loss, and
raised desires in me to be where I had once been, in my
way towards Zion. But the enemy had got such strength
through my disobedience, that I found it more difficult
again to get into the way, than could well be thought of by
any that had never gone out thereof. Let all take warn
ing not to give way to the enemy, nor resist the motion of
God's Spirit while it strives, neither 'despise the day of
small things,' lest ye fall into temptations, and anguish and
sorrow come upon you."

1652.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 55
He proceeds to relate that about midsummer of the year
1652, he heard of a people raised up that were called Qua
kers ; which was the first time that he had heard of that
name being given to any people. Desires were raised in his
mind to be acquainted with some of them, and accordingly
in the Eighth month, hearing that William Dewsbury and
some other Friends were come to Frodingham, he gladly
embraced the opportunity to go and see them. " And I,"
says he, "being on my master's work, at Brigham, could
not go in the day, but determined to go in the night, and
would gladly have had some of my acquaintance to have
gone with me. But the night being very dark, none would
go ; so I went alone. And coming into the room where
William was, I found him writing; and the rest ofhis com
pany were sitting in great silence, seeming to be much
retired in mind, and fixed towards God. Their counte
nances, grave and solid withal, preached to me, and con
firmed what I had before believed, that they were the
people of the Lord. After a little time, William ceased
writing, and many of the town's-people coming in, he be
gan in the power and wisdom of God to declare the truth.
And oh ! how was my soul refreshed, and the witness for
God reached in my heart ; I cannot express it with pen : I
had never heard nor felt the like before ; so that if all the
world say, nay, I could have given my testimony, that it
was the everlasting truth of God. And in the same month,
my mouth was livingly opened, to declare the name of the
Lord, and preach repentance to the people. I knew a
bridle to my tongue, and was greatly afraid lest I should
offend the Lord in thought, word, or deed ; and the word
of the Lord was in me, ' Thou shalt not do thy own works,
nor think thy own thoughts, nor speak thy own words, on
this my holy day.' And though I suffered and went
through many exercises, yet the Lord bore up my spirit
and carried me on, while I abode faithful to him, to the
praise of his own name."

56 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1652.
"My mouth was often opened in the congregations of
his people, to praise his infinite and worthy name ; and I
often accompanied William Dewsbury, John Whitehead,
and sometimes James Nayler, and other early ministers, to
and fro in the East Riding of Yorkshire ; and the glorious
presence of the Lord God was richly with us, to the over
coming of our immortal souls, the comfort of his heritage,
and praise of his own name."
Among those who were reached by the testimony of
George Fox to pure simple Christianity, and to the doc
trine of the Light of Christ in the conscience of man as his
infallible Director, was Justice Hotham, a man of a tender
spirit, who had some experience of God's workings in his
heart. He conversed freely with George Fox, taking him
into his private room ; and told him that he had himself
been acquainted with this Divine teacher for ten years, and
was glad that the Lord did now publish it abroad to the
people. On George Fox coming there a second time
shortly afterwards, Justice Hotham, as he entered his
house, took him in his arms in an affectionate manner,
offered him the free use of his house as if it were his own,
expressed his exceeding gladness at the work of the Lord,
and that His power was revealed, and in other respects be
haved towards him with remarkable friendliness. Another
justice also, named Robinson, received his testimony with
great openness, and told him it was well that he exercised
that gift which God had given him. But this was not the
manner in which he was always received where he had
occasion to sojourn. Soon after this, being denied any re
freshment by a woman at whose inn he stopped, though it
was near the end of the Twelfth month, he passed the night
in a hay-stack, exposed to the rain and snow. And a fen-
weeks afterwards, coming towards night into a town called
Patrington, he warned the priest, who was in the street,
and the people also, to repent and turn to the Lord ; and

1652.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 57
after preaching to those who gathered around him, as it
grew dark he went to seek a lodging at an inn. This was
denied him, and he then desired that he might be allowed
a little meat, or milk, and offered to pay them for it ; but
this also was refused. So he walked out of the town, fol
lowed by a company of rude fellows, whom he bade re
pent and fear the Lord. Coming to two other houses, he
was again refused either lodging or food. By this time it
grew so dark that he could not see the road ; but discover
ing a ditch, he got a little water and refreshed himself;
and being weary with travelling, sat down among the furze
bushes until day dawned, and then passed on. At a small
town about three miles off, though the sun was scarcely up,
yet the people set upon him, seized him, and violently took
him back to Patrington ; where all the town was in an up
roar. At length a man more tender than the rest, called
him into his house, and gave him milk and bread, a wel
come refreshment, for he had not eaten for some days be
fore. The rude people of the town had him before a jus
tice several miles distant; who, however, could find nothing
against him ; and being set at liberty he returned to Patring
ton, and having an opportunity to declare the truth to the
people, he was the means of convincing a large number, who
joined him in religious fellowship. The person who had
here been chiefly instrumental in persecuting him, after
wards came and desired his forgiveness. Soon after this,
being at another town, and again refused a lodging, he
warned the people to repent, directed them to the Light of
Christ, and leaving them, once more passed the night under
a hay-stack. Thus was this dedicated man, whilst seeking
the everlasting welfare of his fellow-creatures, persecuted
and abused, and denied even the necessaries of life. But
yet a seed was sown in many places, which grew and pros
pered, even under the treading down of the oppressive
foot of man ; and sprang up and bore fruit to the praise

58 HISTOEICAL MEMOIES OF [1652.
of the great Husbandman, who had sent his servant
forth. Passing through Yorkshire into Lincolnshire, George Fox
came to Gainsborough, and found the people much excited
on account of a Friend having preached in the market-place.
A man came into the house into which George had entered,
and falsely told the people there assembled that George Fox
had declared himself to be Christ. This still further enraged
them, and they were scarcely restrained from laying violent
hands upon him. But he was moved to get upon a table,
and with power and authority from on High to tell them,
that " Christ was in them, except they were reprobates ; and
that it was Christ the eternal power of God that spoke in
him — -not that he was Christ." The people generally were
satisfied, except this false accuser and some whom he had
brought in. George Fox called him Judas, and propheti
cally told him that Judas's end would be his : which shortly
proved true ; for this man, like the betrayer of our Lord,
went away and hanged himself, and a stake was driven into
his grave, as a legal token of his self-murder.
The holy zeal with which this apostle of primitive Chris
tianity revived, pursued his way, was not to be damped by
false accusations, nor his courage by the threats of the
priests and magistrates. The Lord had shown him, he says,
that "if but one man or woman were raised up by His
power, to stand and live in the same Spirit that the prophets
and apostles were in, who gave forth the Scriptures, that
man or woman should shake all the country in their pro
fession for ten miles round ; for people had the Scriptures,
but were not in that same light, and power, and spirit, which
they were in that gave forth the Scriptures." He exhorted
his fellow-men wherever he went, to press after this attain
ment, instead of leaving them satisfied, as the time-serving
priests did, with reaching hwlf-way to the kingdom of purity
and peace. He earnestly insisted on the important pract'-

1652.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 59
cal truth, not only that we must aim at complete freedom
from sin, even in this life, but that it was possible to attain
to it, through obedience to the manifestations of the Light
of Christ in the secret recesses of the heart.
He was often led to point out the difference, between a
pretended high value of the Holy Scriptures, and a sincere
endeavor to live in the spirit which they inculcate. He
declared also, in opposition to the favorite opinion, that the
Scriptures were to be interpreted by the humanly cultivated
powers of man, " that the Holy Scriptures were given forth
by the Spirit of God, and all people must first come to the
Spirit of God in themselves, by which they might know God
and Christ, of whom the prophets and the apostles learned,
and by the same spirit know the Holy Scriptures ; for as the
Spirit of God was in them that gave forth the Scriptures, so
the same Spirit of God must be in all them that come to
understand the Scriptures."

CHAPTER VI.
CONVINCEMENT OF FRANCIS HOWGILL — GEORGE WHITE
HEAD  AND JUDGE FELL'S FAMILY — GEORGE FOX
STILL PERSECUTED — FIRST CONVINCEMENTS IN LONDON.
AMONG the most eminent of those who were convinced
of the truth during this year, and made to sit together
in heavenly places in Christ, were Francis Howgill and
George Whitehead, who soon after became able ministers
of the gospel, and the former of whom sealed his testimony
to the truth by laying down his life in prison, for the faith
in which he most surely believed.

60 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1652
Francis Howgill was a tender religious man, who from
conscientious motives had left the Episcopalian society, and
attached himself to the Independents as being less super
stitious. Having been trained up for a minister by a uni
versity education, he became a teacher among those whom
he joined. Yet the strivings of the Spirit of Christ were
still mercifully extended to him, making him dissatisfied
with his attainments, and convincing him that notwithstand
ing all his fasting and praying, and what were esteemed
good works, yet the root of sin still remained unsubdued
within him. Although the common doctrine was, that
Christ had taken the guilt of sin upon himself, yet this could
not satisfy him, because his conscience told him, "his ser
vant thou art, whom thou obeyest." But increasing in
spiritual understanding, it was shown to him, that the Lord,
according to ancient prophecy, would in these latter days
teach the people himself; and it seemed also to him that
the time when this should be more manifestly the case was
near at hand. Some time afterwards, on the same day in
which he had himself been preaching in Firbank Chapel,
George Fox preached there in the afternoon ; and when he
heard him call the attention to the Light of Christ in man,
as the way to salvation, he believed this to be the word of
truth, and that he had been ignorant of the principles of
true religion. Submitting to the reproofs of this inward
Light, he saw the unfruitfulness of all his former labor,
which he had undertaken in his own time and way.
Anguish and sorrow seized upon him; and judgment came
over all his self-righteousness. And being from this time
given up to serve the Lord, he and John Audland, who was
convinced at the same time, and who had taken pay for
preaching, in Lancashire, having now received the gospel
freely, and the word of life from Christ himself, in obedience
to the command of the Lord, returned the money to the
parish and people from whom they had received it. The

1652.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 61
Son of God came to be more and more revealed in him ; he
began to know His command, and powerfully and freely to
preach Him and his word of life ; which so enraged the
priests and magistrates, that within this same year he was
seized and locked up in a filthy jail at Appleby, and kept
there a prisoner for some time.
George Whitehead was born about the year 1636, at Sun
Bigs, in Westmoreland. He was educated at a grammar
school in the neighborhood, and appears to have made such
progress in his literary pursuits, as to have been employed
for some time as a teacher. His parents had a view of edu
cating him for a minister ; but his mind was very early in
life visited by the enlightening influence of divine grace :
and being drawn into secret inquiries after a knowledge of
true religion, he was enabled to see how those among whom
he had been partly educated, came short of what they pro
fessed and pretended in their worship, preaching and pray
ing; so that he felt restrained from intimately uniting
himself to them, or continuing to take part in their cere
monious forms of worship, even before he knew any thing
of the people called Quakers. Nevertheless, the good desires
which the Lord had raised within him, after repentance unto
life, were often quenched, and his mind was led away,
through an airy, light disposition, after music, vain mirth,
and other follies. Yet the Lord mercifully followed him
with judgment and reproof in his very young years, and
renewed his longings after the right way. He wanted a
true support to his mind, more substantial than what he
could obtain from the priests and professors of religion
among whom he had walked; not knowing the Light of
Christ, which convinced him of sin, and would lead him into
the paths of righteousness. He was for a time much at a
loss, earnestly seeking after an experience of true religion ;
and wandering, as one bewildered, looking for this attain
ment among those whom he supposed to be in possession of
6

62 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1653.
some higher and more refined views respecting spiritual
gifts. He was then about fourteen years of age.
After a short time, he heard of some people called
Quakers, who trembled at the word of God ; and observing
how they were reviled and reproached by wicked and loose
people, he was induced to make further inquiry, and was
led by the Lord, on whom he relied for counsel, to believe
that they were His people. And he even began to contend for
them and their principles, so far as he knew them, before he
had attended any of their meetings, or heard them minister.
But finding that they held a meeting at a place in the
same county where he was born, he went thither, and was,
by the eminent power of the Lord which appeared among
them, in contriting their hearts, and bringing them into
earnest cravings after true repentance and sanctification of
spirit, much confirmed in the belief that he must leave the
high professing but worldly-minded priests, and unite with
this poor despised people, in sitting down in pure dependence
upon the Lord alone, and thus seek ability from Him to
worship in spirit and in truth. His convincement took
place about the seventeenth year of his age. Some time
after this, he had an opportunity of hearing the powerful
ministry of George Fox ; when he found that it proceeded
from life and experience, and tended to bring to an inward
feeling and sense of the life and power of Christ, and the
sanctifying virtue thereof in the heart. He now saw, that
to be made wise in the living knowledge of God, he must
become a fool to that wisdom of his own in which he had
trusted ; and thus retiring to the grace of God, with which
he was secretly visited, it pleased the Lord to endue him
with a gift in the ministry ; and the following year, being
between 17 and 18 years old, he went forth on foot in that
holy service, to the convincing of many, and the edification
of the church.
His first journey, as a minister, was into Yorkshire. Lin-

1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 63
colnshire, Norfolk, and some adjacent counties. At Norwich
he visited in prison, Richard Hubberthorn, a fellow-laborer
in the same glorious gospel, who was then confined in an old
decayed stone vault or hole in the castle wall, for his faithful
adherence to the truth, and whose testimony and sufferings
had been made instrumental to the gathering of others in
that city into the same faith.
In this neighborhood, George Whitehead held many
meetings, and numbers were convinced. Several priests
attempted to oppose him, thinking to take advantage of his
youth ; but the Lord gave him suitable replies to their
sophistry ; and in the spirit of meekness he exposed some of
their unsound and unscriptural practices. He had also to
contend several times against Antinomians and Ranters, who
falsely asserted the unavoidable continuance of sin in man
as long as he lived, and pleaded for some corrupt liberties.
These deluded men were greatly struck with the baptizing
power which accompanied the ministry of this youth of
eighteen years, in testifying against sin and wickedness, the
lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, the pride of life, and the
love of the world ; and being brought into great self-abase
ment and fear, they earnestly desired his counsel, and several
of them became reformed in their lives and convinced of the
truth. Though so young in the service of his divine Master, his
ministry in the counties of Norfolk and Suffolk was remark
ably attended by the convincing baptizing power of the Lord.
Great numbers joined the Society of Friends, and many
meetings were soon established.
Before he was twenty-one years of age, he performed
another journey in Suffolk, accompanied by Richard Clay
ton and John Harwood. In passing through the town of
Bures, Richard Clayton thought it his duty to affix a paper
on the door of the public worship-house, containing several
Scripture texts, to show the evil fruits, covetousness and

64 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656.
corruption of false teachers and leaders. For this, they were
all three taken up, and Richard Clayton was whipped and
sent out of the town. George Whitehead and John Har
wood, though innocent of the infraction of any law, after
lying more than two months in prison, were tried as dis
turbers of the peace. At the trial they were scarcely per
mitted to speak for themselves, the judge himself acting as
their accuser, and were fined twenty nobles each. Refusing
to acknowledge any guilt by paying this fine, they were
remanded to prison, where they continued twelve months,
and endured extreme privations and sufferings. For a con
siderable time, they, with three other Friends, were immured
among felons, in a low dungeon-like place under a market-
house, their lodging being on rye-straw on a damp, earthen
floor. The jailer was much enraged at the Friends, because
they testified against his wickedness, and would not con
tribute to his habits of extortion from the prisoners, nor
encourage the great drunkenness produced by his bar-room
in the prison, by purchasing any of his beer. This man, as
well as his bar-keeper, often shamefully abused them. The
latter once violently hit one of them with a stone, and took
up a stool also as a missile, and often beat them on their
faces and elsewhere with his fists, for no other cause than
their faithfully reproving his wickedness. Some of the other
prisoners also, encouraged by the example of this man and
the jailer, would frequently take away their food, and
several times beat and stoned them, and threatened to kill
them, or knock them on the head ; and very frequently were
they struck so violently by the jailer or his agents, that the
blood gushed from their mouths and noses.
Some of their fellow-prisoners who joined with them in
drinking nothing but water, participated in this ill usage ;
and after a time, George Whitehead and two others were let
down by a ladder into a dismal noisome dungeon, twelve feet
deep under the ground, very dark, and very narrow. At

1658.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 65
the bottom, was an iron grate with the bars more than twelve
inches apart, extending over a pit, they knew not how deep,
into which they might have fallen, but for the kind warning
of a woman who saw them put down into the dungeon ; so
that by standing close to the sides they kept themselves from
slipping in. They were however preserved through all this
cruel usage, in great resignation, and were favored with the
sweet sense of the glorious presence of the Lord, so that they
could even sing praises to his name in the midst of their
sufferings. Whilst they were in this dungeon, some of their Friends
from a distance came to visit them, but were not suffered to
come to them ; and so wickedly sordid indeed was the jailer,
that when their friends, moved by compassion, and a desire
to minister to their wants, would approach the prison door
or window, he or his company would cast water upon them,
and refuse them all access unless they would pay money to
be allowed to enter. At length, after fifteen months' im
prisonment, they were released by order of Oliver Cromwell,
at the instance of their friends in London, particularly of a
Friend named Mary Sanders, who lived in the Protector's
family. The next winter George Whitehead visited London, and
was instrumental to the convincing of many ; and after his
return, he found it laid upon him to go to Nayland to hold
a meeting with the inhabitants, where his life had been
threatened on a former occasion, if he should venture to
hold a meeting there. The meeting was held in a small
orchard, where, after waiting on the Lord for some time in
silence, George Whitehead felt himself constrained to preach
the everlasting gospel without fear of man. But after he
had preached a considerable time, a person rushed in with
a constable and rude company, pulled him down from the
stool on which he was standing, and carried him off to the
justice's hall. After a pretended examination, the justice
G*

66 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1652.
informed him that he was to be whipped severely the next
day ; that if he came thither again, he should be branded
on the shoulder as a rogue ; and if he came a third time, he
should be hanged. George exhorted the justice to repent
ance, and told him that notwithstanding all their threaten
ings, if the Lord, whom he served, should require his return,
he must obey Him.
The next day the sentence was put in execution. George
Whitehead was conveyed into the market-place, and
stripped to the waist ; and a man employed by the constable
laid on so violently with a long, sharp whip, that large
stripes and cuts were visible on his back and breast, and
the blood flowed freely. Many of the spectators wept to see
this cruelty, and some cried out to stop it ; but the innocent
victim was borne above his sufferings by the power of the
Lord, and was enabled to sing praises to His Holy name,
in that he had been accounted worthy to suffer for His
Truth's sake. After the execution, he was permitted to
take his horse, and was conveyed out of the county by con
stables ; and coming into Essex, he had many good meet
ings, the people being aroused by the accounts of his suffer
ings, and anxious to "msefr*"^ the young man who had
been so cruelly whipped "lat NaySLad. So that the malice
of his enemies was overruled, to the spreading of a knowl
edge of the Truth in the eastern counties of England.
The year 1652, was also productive of the convincement
of the wife and family of Judge Fell, of Swarthmore, in
Lancashire. Margaret Fell, a descendant of the martyr,
Anne Askew, was a woman of a very superior mind,
highly esteemed by men of eminence in the neighborhood.
for her natural abilities, and her religious disposition. Sho
and her children and several of their household joined the
Society; and though her husband did not entirely leave
his former profession, yet he remained ever afterwards very
friendly to George Fox and his brethren, and their house

1652.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 67
was a hospitable resting-place for the ministers of Truth
for many years. Some time after the decease of Judge Fell,
his widow, who had herself become a minister of the Gos
pel, and travelled extensively in its service, married George
Fox, and was for the remainder of her life eminently useful
in the church, as a succorer of many under affliction for
the gospel's sake, and a strengthener of the hands of the
standard-bearers. The persecutions of various kinds with which George Fox
was assailed, during the year 1652, were indeed enough to
discourage any man not supported by a consciousness that
he was acting under the immediate authority of the Al
mighty. A few of them may be briefly recounted before
we pass on.
At Tickhill, he went, under religious constraint, to the
public worship house, and found the priest and the chief
persons of the parish in the chancel. He says, " I went up
to them, and began to speak ; but they immediately fell
upon me ; and the clerk up with his Bible as I was speak
ing, and struck me on the face with it, so that my face
gushed out with blood, and I bled exceedingly in the steeple-
house. Then the people cried, ' Let us have him out of the
church : ' and when they had got me out, they beat me ex
ceedingly, and threw me down, and over a hedge ; and
afterwards they dragged me through a house into the street,
stoning and beating me as they dragged me along, so that
I was all over besmeared with blood and dirt. They got
my hat from me, which I never got again. Yet when I
was got upon my legs again, I declared to them the word
of life, and showed them the fruits of their teacher, and
how they dishonored Christianity."
Shortly after this, he came at night to a small tavern on
a common, and found there a company of rude fellows
drinking ; and because he refused to drink with them, they
struck him with their clubs. He reproved them, and

68 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1652.
walked out of the house upon the common ; but one of these
men followed him out, and would have come close up to
him, under a pretence of whispering something to him;
when George perceived that he had a knife, and therefore
kept clear of him, warning him to repent and fear God.
The man being thus defeated in his wicked attempt, left
George on the common during the night, and returned into
the house.
Having visited Friends in Westmoreland, he returned
into Lancashire ; and at Ulverstone on a lecture-day, he
felt it to be his duty to address the people assembled in the
public meeting-house, after the priest had finished a bluster
ing harangue. They were quiet, and heard him gladly,
until a justice of the peace stirred them up against him,
inciting them to break the peace, in tumultuously falling
upon this innocent man. They got into a great rage,
knocked him down, kicked him and trampled on him in
the steeple-house ; and so great was the uproar, that some
people tumbled over their seats for fear. This justice at
length led him out of the house, and bid the constables
whip him and put him out of the town. They led him
about a quarter of a mile, some holding him by his collar,
and some by his arms and shoulders, and thus they shook
and dragged him along. Many friendly people who heard
him gladly in the meeting-house, were also knocked down,
and had their heads broken, so that the blood ran from
several of them ; and Judge Fell's son running after, to see
what they would do with George Fox, they threw him into
a ditch, some of them crying out, " knock the teeth out of
his head." The officers having got George out of the town,
beat him with their rods, and thrust him among the rude
rabble ; who, having furnished themselves with hedge-stakes,
large sticks and holly bushes, fell upon him, and beat him
on the head, arms and shoulders, till they deprived him of
sense, and he fell down on the wet common, where he lay

1652.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 69
for some time. About two weeks afterwards, at a place
called Cockan, in Walney island, there came a man with a
pistol, and snapped it at George Fox ; but happily it would
not go off; and George solemnly addressing the man on his
wickedness, he was so struck by the power of the Lord,
that he trembled for fear, and went and hid himself.
The next morning, crossing a part of the sea in a boat,
as soon as he came to land, about forty men rushed out
with staves, clubs, and fishing-poles, who fell upon him,
beating and kicking him, and endeavoring to thrust him
backward into the sea. But he went up into the midst of
them ; when they furiously laid at him again, knocked him
down, and stunned him. When he came to himself, he
looked up and saw a woman throwing stones at his face,
while her husband was lying over him, to ward off the
stones and other blows. Some of these people had per
suaded this woman that George Fox had " bewitched " her
husband, and had promised her that if she would let them
know when he came thither, they would be the death of
him. But the Lord preserved his faithful servant out of
the hands of these wicked men. George having at length
been set over the water again, came to the town on the
other side, when he was assailed by the rabble with flails,
pitchforks, and staves, crying, "Kill him! knock him on the
head ! " etc. : and after they had grossly abused him, they
drove him a considerable distance from the town, and there
left him. Margaret Fell, hearing of the circumstance, sent
a horse to convey him to her hospitable mansion, where he
was well cared for in his bruised and exhausted condition ;
and the woman who had thrown stones at him, afterwards
repented of her wickedness and became convinced of the
truth, as did also some others of those bitter persecutors.
He was now summoned to ajtpear before the court at
Lancaster ; where about forty priests appeared against him ;
but so well did he defend himself and advocate the princi-

70 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1654.
pies of truth, that he was fully discharged in open court ;
some of the priests were publicly rebuked from the bench ;
Justice Benson and the mayor of Lancaster, with many
others, were convinced ; and the people cried out, that " the
Quakers had got the day, and the priests were fallen."
As he stayed two or three days after this in Lancaster,
some of the rude people plotted together to draw him out
of the house, and throw him over the bridge into the river ;
but being defeated in this, they set a madman and another
fellow at him with sticks, in order to accomplish their
wicked intent. George spoke to them "in the Lord's
mighty power," which chained them both down, and made
them calm and quiet.
It was not till the year 1654, that any ministers of the
people called Quakers appear to have visited the city of
London ; unless Gervase Benson, who was there in 1653,
were in that station, which is somewhat doubtful. Several
Friends' books however had been printed in that city
during the year last mentioned. In the beginning of 1654
some tender people there were drawn into communion with
each other by the power of the Spirit of Truth operating
upon their minds, and inclining them to greater spirituality
and a closer walk with God : and about the end of the first
month in this year, Francis Howgill and John Camm vis
ited Oliver Cromwell on behalf of their suffering brethren,
and went to some of the public meeting-houses, declaring
the way of the Lord. This spring also, two women from
the north, one of whom was Isabel Buttery, came to Lon
don, and became acquainted with one of those seeking
persons, Simon Dring of Moorfields, and also with Amos
Stodart, who from conscientious scruples had recently re
signed his commission as captain in the army. These
women brought with them for distribution, copies of an
epistle from George Fox, " To all that would know the way
to the kingdom;" which directed people to turn their

1654.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 71
minds within, where the voice of God is to be heard ; and
walking with Amos Stodart and Simon Dring in the sub
urbs, they met with Ruth Brown, a young woman of about
sixteen years of age. This young woman, receiving one of
the epistles, was convinced of the truth of the principles
therein laid down, and thenceforth joined the small num
ber of congenial minds who then began to meet together to
wait upon God. They met at the houses of Robert and
Simon Dring; and sometimes Isabel and her companion
spoke a few words by way of ministry. In the Fifth month
of that year, Francis Howgill, Richard Hubberthorn, Ed
ward Burrough, and Anthony Pearson, were moved to visit
the hidden seed in that great metropolis ; who having meet
ings in several places, their ministrations were attended
with signal success in gathering into the fold of Christ
many that were "wai ing for the consolation of Israel."
Meetings of Friends were soon settled in various parts of
the metropolis — at first in private houses — -until the So
ciety there growing too large for these to accommodate, a
house known by the name of the " Bull and Mouth," near
Aldersgate street, was hired as a public meeting-house. This
place subsequently became the scene of bitter persecutions
to this unoffending people.

CHAPTER VII.
RISE OF THE SOCIETY IN IRELAND — WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.
THERE is no account of Ireland being visited by any
ministers of the Society of Friends, previous to the
year 1654. The first person who publicly espoused its
principles in that country appears to have been that subse-

72 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1654.
quently eminent minister of the Gospel, William Edmund-
son. He was born in the county of Westmoreland, England,
in the year 1627, and when about twenty-three years of
age, went into the army, during the civil wars, and contin
ued for some time a soldier under the Parliament. He had
often, even from his youthful days, experienced the good
hand of the Lord, tendering his spirit, and bringing him
into serious thoughtfulness respecting the eternal welfare
of his soul ; and while he was serving in the army in Scot
land under Oliver Cromwell, it pleased the Lord to bring
matters closer home to him, and to visit him by the
strivings of His Spirit, in order to draw him out of the cor
ruptions of the world, into a nearer acquaintance and pre
cious communion with Christ, revealed within as the power
of God, and the wisdom of God. In 1651, he returned
with the army to England, and being quartered in Derby
shire, he there heard of the people called Quakers ; and
though they were much spoken against, he found his heart
secretly drawn towards them for good. He however
marched again into Scotland, and then left the army, and
returned back to England. About this time he married ;
and at the solicitation of his brother, who was a soldier in
Ireland, he went over and settled at Antrim, entering into
mercantile business. Here the officers of the regiment in
which his brother served, kindly offered him the usual pay,
without his being obliged to perform actual duty, or neglect
his business ; but his conscience had been awakened by the
Lord's judgments, and he declined this offer. He soon sold
off his stock of goods ; and going over to England to pur
chase a fresh supply, he heard of George Fox and James
Nayler being in the north ; and feeling a great desire to
meet with them, he went to a place where James Nayler
was, and had an opportunity of hearing him discourse of
the things of God's kingdom, and the work of regeneration.

1654.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 73
And though James's words were not many, yet they were
so powerful, and so fully reached and answered the testi
mony of the divine witness in his own mind, that his heart
was opened to receive the word preached, and to confess
that it was indeed the truth. He was now brought into
great exercise of spirit ; his former ways were " hedged
up ; " and many things to which he had been accustomed
were shown to him in the Light of Christ, to be incompat
ible with the purity and entire obedience to which he was
called. He flinched not however from the hand of the
Lord, for his sins were set clearly before him, and he felt
that he must be purged from them through judgment.
And returning shortly to Ireland, the Lord's hand was
mercifully laid upon him, while at sea, producing great
wrestlings and conflicts of spirit; under a strong temptation
to land his goods clandestinely and avoid paying the duty ;
but this he was enabled to withstand. He landed at Car
rickfergus ; and rode twelve miles to his own home. His
brother meeting him at the door, offered the usual saluta
tion, probably bowing and using the empty complimentary
phrases so ready in the mouths of men of the world. The
Lord's power that instant so seized upon William, that he
could not join in what he now saw to be vanity ; and he
was broken into many tears. His wife and brother were
amazed at the change, but made no opposition.
He had now to undergo a further trial of faith, in pass
ing his goods at the custom-house. The officers required
the usual oath, and would have seized his goods ; but he
firmly told them that he could not swear, for Christ had
forbidden it. This was strange to them, having never
known it objected to before ; and his serious deportment, his
refusal to put off his hat in compliment to them, and his
steady adherence to the simple language of Thou and Thee,
were very offensive ; but after much difficulty he at length

74 HISTOEICAL MEMOIES OF [1654.
obtained the clearing of his goods, and brought them safely
home. His spiritual conflicts continued, his sleep often departed
from him, and deep were the baptisms into which his soul
was plunged, for its purification from every defilement. He
had no outward adviser to depend upon, and would have
gone far for the company of an experienced Friend ; but he
was thus mercifully taught to depend on the Lord alone for
all his fresh springs of life and strength.
After a time there came into the country one Major
Bousfield, who professed to be a very knowing man in the
things of religion, and spoke plausibly of his unity with
George Fox and James Nayler. William Edmundson went
to see him, and heard abundance of talk, and was at first
glad to think that he had met with one so knowing, and so
capable of advising him in his great troubles. But Bous
field advised him to be cheerful and merry, and not to look
at these inward troubles, which he represented as the work
of the enemy, to bring him into despair. This doctrine was
very comfortable to the natural inclinations, and love of
ease to the flesh prompted him to take hold of it. It seemed
quickly to heal his maladies without the daily cross of
Christ, or self-denial. But this false healing lasted only
about a week. The Lord in great mercy pursued him, and
let him see, in that light which cannot deceive, that some
thing was yet in him that withstood the work of God, and
that this must be crucified by the Lord's judgments, and by
the daily cross of Christ Jesus. " Then," says he, " I saw
there was no physician but the Lord alone ; and I also saw
where Bousfield was, and all of that spirit ; that they took
up their rest and satisfaction in a talk and notion of religion,
without the true cross of Christ, that should mortify their
lusts, wills, and vile affections, and crucify them to the
world, and the world unto them ; being at ease in a form of
godliness, without the real work of the power."

1655.J THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 75
Early in the year 1654, Myles Halhead, James Lancaster,
and Miles Bateman visited Ireland, and had some inter
views with the rulers and the officers of the army, but soon
returned to England. William was then removing from
Antrim to Lurgan. His wife and brother soon became con
vinced of that truth which had so powerfully operated upon
himself; and they met together in his house twice a week,
to wait on the Lord in silence. After a short time, four
more were convinced and joined with them ; and this was
the first settled meeting of Friends in Ireland. A number
of sober people were after a while attracted to them, and
the name of Friends, and reputation of the way of Truth
was spread abroad.
It was not long before the Great Head of the church saw
meet to endow William Edmundson with a gift in the
ministry of the gospel among this little company; and
though he was under great fear of being deluded by a
wrong spirit, yet faithfully obeying the divine call, and
waiting on the gift in all humility and watchfulness, he was
gradually enlarged in experience of the mysteries of the
heavenly kingdom, and fitted for extensive usefulness in the
church. Being moved to go to the public worship-house at
Lurgan, to declare the truth to the people, he was much
beaten and abused ; but his testimony reached the con
sciences of several of the congregation, of whom two indi
viduals followed him out of the house and joined with
Friends. The next Friend who came into Ireland was John Tiffin,
who spent some time with the small company at Lurgan,
occasionally speaking a few words among them, to their
edification and comfort. William Edmundson accompanied
him to several places, where they had good service, many
beginning to inquire into the truth of those principles which
they held forth. But one of their most prominent testi
monies being levelled against all hire for preaching the

76 HISTOEICAL MEMOIES OF [1655
gospel, the priests began to be alarmed, and incensed the
magistrates against Friends, as holding " damnable doc
trines," and being " led away with the delusions of Satan."
Their pride too was wounded, by the refusal of Friends to
give them the usual complimentary salutations, or to address
them singly in the plural number. This they could not
suffer, and accordingly beset Friends with frequent abuse,
and sometimes with stones and blows.
William and John went to Belfast, where they could find
but one inn that would admit them to lodge. John was
very desirous of obtaining an open door for preaching the
word of Truth in that town ; but the people shut their ears,
doors, and hearts against it and them. Being disappointed
in all their endeavors to obtain a room in which to hold a
meeting, they went to a place near the town, where three
lanes met, and there sat down and waited on the Lord.
People gathered about them in wonder, and they thus had
an opportunity of directing their attention to the Spirit of
God in their own hearts, and spreading the sound of the
Gospel through the land. John Tiffin soon after returned
to England ; but the Truth gained ground and prevailed,
and Friends increased in number, and were preserved in a
lowly watchful state of mind, which made their very coun
tenances preach to their sober neighbors. John Shaw (who
with his family was convinced about this time) often after
wards said that William Edmundson's words and deport
ment were a means of convincing him of the truth.
The next messenger of the gospel sent into Ireland was
Richard Clayton, whom also William Edmundson accom
panied in his journey, both of them travelling on foot. At
Coleraine they preached to the people in the streets, but
being banished from the town, they went and lodged in a
cabin among the mountains. They had two meetings at
Londonderry, where a family of five persons were convinced,
and the governor being at both meetings acknowledged,

1655.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 77
with several others, the truth of what was testified. At
several other places they were made instrumental to the
convincement of many tender seeking individuals, and
some meetings were soon settled, particularly near Kilmore,
and at the Grange below Antrim, and also at Toberhead.
But the priests became more and more enraged, and put
William Edmundson in prison at Armagh ; where the Lord
was his strength, in his own conscious weakness, and His
power enabled him to confound the sophistry of the priest
and the justice, and the jailer could not bear to look him in
the face. It does not appear that he remained long in
prison ; for at his examination the people were satisfied of
his innocence, and the court, ashamed of his commitment,
set him at liberty. He went over to England this year, on
a visit to George Fox, whom he had not before met with.
George was tenderly affected, and heard with gladness of
the progress of Truth in Ireland. He took William Ed
mundson into an orchard, where he kneeled down and
prayed ; and afterwards sent by him a short epistle to the
Friends in Ireland, exhorting them faithfully to wait on
that Power which had convinced them, and dwell in the
life, love, power and wisdom of God, and in love one with
another, and with God. Edward Burrough and Francis
Howgill had gone over to Ireland, and George Fox desired
William Edmundson to join them on his return. These
friends were eminently serviceable in that island, par
ticularly in the province of Munster, many receiving their
testimony and adhering to the doctrine they preached. At
Bandon, Edward Cook, a man of great parts, who had been
a cornet of horse in Oliver Cromwell's own troop, and
receiver to Lord Cork, was with his wife convinced, and
remained a steadfast and useful member. Several others
there also joined the Society. At Limerick, attempting to
speak to the people in the public meeting-house, they were
run upon by a mob, and put out of the town ; but as they
7*

78 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1655.
rode along, Edward Burrough preached through the streets
on horseback, and when outside of the gates, had an oppor
tunity of speaking to a great multitude who assembled
there, directing them to Christ Jesus, a measure of whose
Spirit was given to every man to profit withal ; and several
were convinced. Several also were convinced by these
Friends at Kinsale, among whom was Susanna Worth, wife
of Edward Worth, afterwards Bishop of Killaloe, who
suffered much from her husband, but lived and died in unity
with Friends.
This year also came over Elizabeth Fletcher and Eliza
beth Smith, who were the first Friends who held a settled
meeting in Dublin, and the first also who came to Cork,
where many were convinced.
About this time a singular exercise fell upon William
Edmundson, as he was attending a fair on business at
Antrim ; by which he was instructed in the benefit of faith
fully attending to the secret intimations of the divine Moni
tor, saying, "this is the way, walk in it," even when he
might not see immediately the intention of the Almighty in
thus leading him by a way that he knew not. Returning
with his brother late from the fair, they proposed to lodge
at Glenavy, six miles on their way homeward ; but before
they arrived there, William was introduced into a great
exercise of mind, accompanied with an intimation, the source
of which he believed to be the divine Spirit, that his shop
was in danger of being robbed that night, but that he was
to go back towards Clough ; and being much perplexed
under the apprehension of danger to his property on the one
hand if he went not home, and on the other hand not know
ing wherefore he should be required to go back to Clough,
he cried earnestly to the Lord, to be preserved from follow
ing a delusive spirit, and that he might be directed what
course to pursue. ' On which he received a clear intimation,
that the same power which required him to go back, would

1655.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 79
preserve his property from harm. Lodging at Glenavy, he
slept but little ; but in the morning, not daring to disobey
so clear a command, he let his brother proceed homewards,
while he went himself to Clough. Two female ministers
from London, Anne Gould and Julian Wastwood, had
recently come into Ireland, and after passing through much
of the northern part of the island, on foot, wading rivers and
dirty miry ways during the cold weather of winter, they
came to Clough. Anne being a delicate woman, was much
exhausted, and staying there, the enemy of all good persuaded
her that God had forsaken her, and that she was there to be
destroyed ; so that she fell into despair. William Edmund
son knew nothing of these women, but his feet were directed
to the inn where they were staying. Anne was overwhelmed
under mental trouble, but he was made the instrument of
her consolation, so that she entirely revived, and rejoiced in
the consciousness that she had escaped from a great tempta
tion. He assisted them on their journey with his horse as far
as Carrickfergus, whence going home he sent a conveyance
for them to his house.
On reaching his home, he found that on the night when
the foregoing exercise came upon him, the shop-window was
broken down by robbers, and fell with such violence on the
counter as to awaken his family, and the thieves being
frightened ran away. " So," says he, " I was confirmed that
it was the word of the Lord, that said, ' that which drew me
back should preserve my shop ; ' and I was greatly
strengthened to obey the Lord in what he required ; for I
was much afraid, lest at any time my understanding should
be betrayed by a wrong spirit ; not fearing the loss of goods,
nor sufferings for the truth, its testimony being more to me
than all other things."
About this year or the next, a number of Friends went to
Limerick in the ministry of the gospel, and were instru
mental in convincing several. These new converts however
being but weak, for a time continued to go to hear one

80 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656.
Robert Wilkinson, a captain in the army, a man much
esteemed, but greatly given to religious disputation, and
much a stranger to that silent and humble waiting in the
''divine Light, which would mortify the carnal will, and
bring down that disposition which would busily but unprofit-
ably intermeddle in spiritual matters. Him, however, these
newly convinced ones went to hear, not seeing through the
shallowness of the man ; until one Abraham Newbold was
moved to come from Waterford thither, who going into the
meeting where Captain Wilkinson was preaching, stood up,
and with a strong voice, and the liberty much exercised in
the congregations of that day, cried out, " Serpent, be silent! "
Wilkinson hearing these few but potent words, would have
entered into dispute, and inquired by what spirit Abraham
spoke ; to which the latter merely replied, " Thou knowest
not." The preacher attempted to proceed, but was utterly
confounded, and carried out of the meeting. The next
meeting-day also he was taken out fainting, and from that
time ceased preaching any more. These convinced persons
afterwards became more enlightened in their understandings,
met together in silence, and bore a faithful testimony against
the fashions and manners of the world ; so that they had to
bear their share of reproach and imprisonment, and their
neighbors were even prohibited by the magistrates from
purchasing anything from them in the way of their trade.
We have now briefly traced the steps of some of those
pioneers of the spiritual army, who first proclaimed in word
and in life the pure principles of the Society of Friends in
Ireland. We have seen that in common with their brethren
in England, they had to stem the current of prevailing modes
of thought, and boldly oppose the most favorite and cherished
practices of the community around them ; for they were
men who, in the Light of Christ, seeing through the empti
ness of mere profession without substance, and having them
selves felt the sorrowful effects of living in a dependence on
outward rites and ceremonies, could not but cry aloud against

1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 81
the corruptions which successive ages had introduced into
the professing church, and which were greatly hindering
those "who were entering" with sincere hearts, into the
kingdom. This brought them, of course, into suffering at
the instigation of the priests, whose influence their principles
were so directly calculated to overturn ; and many were the
days and weeks and months passed by these faithful wit
nesses in dungeons and noisome prisons, for the word of God
and the testimony of Jesus ; though it does not appear that
in Ireland the attempts to put them down by force were so
systematic or so violent as in some other parts. The rabble
were guilty of much personal abuse, set on by their priests,
and the magistrates inflicted grievous imprisonments ; but
beyond this they seem to have been restrained by the power
of Him whose will had called the Society into existence, and
who caused the plant of his right-hand planting to prosper
even under the foot of the oppressor. William Edmundson,
who had now given up his shop, and taken a farm in the
county Cavan, thus describes the state of the little band of
Friends in Ireland, about twelve years after he had himself
openly espoused its cause :
" Truth," says he, " was much spread, and meetings set
tled in several places ; and many being convinced and
brought to the knowledge of God, were added to Friends.
But sufferings increased for not paying tithes and priests'
maintenance, and towards repairing their worship-houses,
for not observing their, holy-days, so called, and such like.
They fleeced us in taking our goods, and imprisoned some.
" In those days the world and the things of it were not
near our hearts ; but the love of God, his 'truth and testi
mony, lived in our hearts ; we were glad of one another's
company, though sometimes our outward fare was very
mean, and our lodging on straw. We did not mind high
things, but were glad one of another's welfare in the Lord ;
and his love dwelt in us. I was often abroad in Truth's
service, visiting Friends, and getting meetings in several

82 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656.
places. I was moved to travel into Leinster, and went
from place to place, as the Lord's good Spirit guided me."
" I went to Mullingar, and lodged there one night, where
was a trooper that was convinced, who rode with me several
miles the next day, and continued coming to meetings. I
came that night to Finagh ; but the inn-keepers refused me
lodging, for they knew I was a ' Quaker.' It was winter,
and cold weather ; so I inquired for the constable, and told
him he must provide me lodging, for I was a traveller, had
money to pay for what I should have, and had been at the
inns, where they refused me lodging. He kept an ale-house,
and had also refused me ; but after much discourse, he told
me I must be content with such lodging as he had for me.
I told him to let me have a room with a fire, and hay for
my horse, and I would be content. So I alighted, went
into the house, and there were troopers drinking. They
soon perceived what I was, and began to scoff, and ask me
many questions, which I answered in my freedom ; but
when I 'thee'd' and 'thou'd' them in our discourse, they
were very angry ; and one of them swore, if I ' thou'd ' him
again, he would cleave my head. But in our discourse,
when it came in its place, I ' thou'd ' him again ; and he
starting up in anger, drew his sword ; but one of his cor
porals sitting by him stopped him, and commanded him to
put up his sword, for there should be no cleaving of heads
there ; so caused the troopers to go to their quarters ; but
he stayed with me discoursing late in the night, and was
convinced, being tender, received the Truth, and came to
meetings. " About this time we had a meeting at Belturbet, and the
Lord's power and presence was with us ; but the provost of
the town was an envious man, who came with some rude
people, broke up our meeting, and took us to prison, both
men and women. We were all night in a very cold place,
and the women mightily pinched with cold, it being frost

1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 83
and snow. The next morning he set all the other Friends
at liberty, but me he put in the stocks in the market-place ;
and people gathered about me, where I had an opportunity
to preach the truth to them ; which they heard with sober
ness, were tender, and reflected much upon the provost for
abusing us.
" Robert Wardell then (being but a boy) told the pro
vost, he had set a better man than himself in the stocks,
and there was a time when such as he durst not have med
dled with me : wherefore the provost took him, and set him
in the stocks by me. But his father heard of it, and threat
ened the provost with the law ; so Robert Wardell was
soon taken out of the stocks ; who being convinced, kept
with Friends, and afterwards became a serviceable man for
Truth, and a preacher of it.
" The people were much dissatisfied with the provost ; so
he sent his officer to let me loose ; who opened the stocks,
and bade me ' take out my leg, for I might go my way.' I
told him, ' I had been grossly abused, and made a public
spectacle to the people, as though I had done some great
offence, but I was not convicted of the breach of any law ;
so let the provost come himself and take me out, for he put
me in.' The provost came and opened the stocks, bidding
me ' take out my leg.' I told him, ' No ; for he had made
me a spectacle to the people, and I knew no law that I had
broken ; but let him take out my leg, that put it in.' So
he opened the stocks with one hand, and took my leg out
with the other. "

84 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1655.
CHAPTER VIII.
CONVINCEMENT OF HUMPHREY BACHE.
THE conversion of Humphrey Bache, about the year 1655,
from the maxims and religion of the world, to those
pure and undefiled principles of Truth under which many
seeking souls were now gathering into a visible church, was
a remarkable instance of the efficacy of the Light of Christ,
received and cherished in the mind, not only to show forth
sin in its true character in a manner widely different from
the maxims of human policy, but also, in its cleansing op
erations on the heart, to constrain the subject of its power
to righteous confession and compensation for wrongs or
injuries committed.
He was brought up a goldsmith in the city of London;
but the civil war breaking out between Charles the First
and the Parliament, his business failed to afford him a
maintenance, and he applied to the leaders of the popular
party for some office. He was accordingly employed as an
overseer of workmen engaged in building the fortifications
about London. His allowance was three shillings a day,
with which, for a time, he was well contented. He fre
quently observed that some of the other overseers would go
with those they employed, and treat them to strong drink.
Being told by one of the workmen, that the money so spent
did not come out of the salaries of those officers, he inquired
how that could be. " Do you not know," said his inform
ant, " they can sometimes set down a man more than they
employ ; or if that cannot so well be, set down for some,
two pence a-day more than they give." This was a new
idea to Humphrey, who being off his guard, Satan worked
therein with much subtilty to betray him. His honesty of

1655.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 85
purpose at last gave way, and he began to covet more than
his wages ; and his heart becoming corrupt in its desires,
he soon proved unfaithful to his trust, and acting on the
hint he had received, he robbed the commonwealth of its
dues. During the time he remained in this employment,
the amount he took, more than his wages, was about six
pounds. Of course he had no peace of mind, and was often
troubled at the thought of the wrong he was doing. But
he had departed from his God, through the inward opera
tions of whose Holy Spirit he might have found preserva
tion from all evil ; and he now had no will nor strength to
resist the temptation. Encouraging himself in the deceit-
fulness of his heart, his spiritual eye became, for a time, so
far blinded, that he did not see the evil to be so great as it
first appeared. His heart was hardened through his con
tinued violation of right, until at length he went on with
out much conviction or remorse.
When the fortifications around London were completed,
Humphrey obtained a situation in the custom-house.
Having yet some fear of his Heavenly Father remaining
in him, he discharged his duty, for a season, with true fidel
ity. So long as he retained that fear, he was preserved from
joining with those about him in robbing the public treas
ury. At this time he often felt bitterness of soul for what
he had formerly done ; and this assisted him, as he firmly
resisted all bribes, withholding his lips from the proffered
wine — his hand from the tempting silver.
His companions, who had departed from honesty and
simplicity, into that serpentine wisdom which uses its plau
sible pretences to lead others astray, advanced many spe
cious arguments to persuade him to act as they did. Lis
tening from time to time to their beguiling words, he was
at length staggered ; for he had not as yet learned, that
man's only safety from sin depends on his turning away
8

86 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1655.
from the arguments, enticements and examples of unregen-
erate men, watching unto prayer, and seeking unto God for
wisdom to know, and strength to execute His will. He
saw that others were violating their oaths, regardless of
their duty ; and this strengthened the natural covetousness
of his heart. Nothing, that he heard or saw, had so great
an influence on him, as the unfaithfulness of the members
of the " Long Parliament," which was then sitting ; and he
had no hesitation in telling them afterwards, that it was
through their evil example, he had been led to violate his
trust. He soon fell from his integrity, and again sought by un
fair means to increase his wages. Yet the Lord, in love to
his soul, followed him with reproofs and corrections ; and
in order to break his hard heart, judgment after judgment
was administered to him. He continued, however, going
on in the same course of iniquity, until through the inward
rebukes of the Holy Spirit, he was filled with fear and ter
ror. Being now devoid of comfort, he became very irrita
ble. A small thing would ruffle his temper, and lead him
to quarrel with his dearest friends. He who had been very
loving and gentle towards his wife, was now so peevish, so
fretful, and so fro ward, that he would often break out into
fits of anger with her, even when she spoke mildly and
pleasantly to him.
For a long time he felt the weight of condemnation upon
him, and had many thoughts as to what he must do to find
relief. Sometimes he thought of making restitution, con
fessing what he had done, and surrendering himself to the
commissioners, to deal with him as they should think best.
His heart, however, was not yet rightly subdued; and
though for the last year he held the office he scrupulously
refused to take more than his due, he still retained the gain
of his former wickedness.
We have seen that Francis Howgill and Edward Bur-

1655.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 87
rough, in the year 1654, came from the north of England
to London, preaching the gospel in the demonstration of
the Spirit and of power, and that many being there gath
ered into communion with them, meetings were established
in and about this great metropolis, that year and the next.
One of these meetings Humphrey Bache attended; but what
he then heard had very little effect upon him. Some time
after, one of his acquaintance inquiring of him whether he
had been to hear the Quakers, he replied, he had heard
them once. "Yes," rejoined his friend, "but hear them
five or six times, and then judge whether it be not truth
that they declare." Humphrey accordingly attended two
or three meetings more, still without appearing to receive
any particular spiritual benefit. After a time, again feeling
some inclination to try them, he went to the " Bull and
Mouth " meeting, where were those three eminent ministers
of the gospel of Christ, George Fox, Francis Howgill, and
Edward Burrough. One of them, while speaking of the
cross of Christ, which all true disciples must take up daily,
said to this effect : — " The carnal mind is enmity against
God. As any one comes to stand in the cross, which is the
power of God, the enmity is broken down, and reconcilia
tion is witnessed. The enmity is slain by the power of
God — by that which crosseth the carnal mind — which is,
the Light."
Under this testimony, the heart of Humphrey Bache was
reached. The witness for God within him responded to
the truth of what was uttered, and to its applicability to
his own condition. He knew that "the Light which
shineth in a dark place" had discovered his sin to him,
and reproved him for that which his carnal mind urged
him to do. He saw that as the cross was taken up, death
must needs come on the carnal mind ; sin must cease ; and
thus the partition wall between him and his God would be
broken down.

88 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1655.
Now, as the mysteries of the kingdom were opened before
him, his inward eye was anointed to discover the mysteries
of iniquity also. His heart was in measure turned to the
Lord, and desires were raised in him for perfect redemption
from sin. In order to witness this, he was led into inward
waiting on the Lord, that he might receive the further
manifestations of that divine Light, which he now knew
had often convinced him of sin. He who had died to save
him, now, by his Holy Spirit, instructed his soul, opening
his inward condition, and showing him what yet stood be
tween him and reconciliation with God.
The first thing which was then made manifest to him
was his former unfaithfulness to his trust. In the remem-
brarice thereof, trouble and anguish were again awakened
within him, and he saw that he was not clear in the sight
of immaculate Justice. He had given up his course of dis
honesty ; but he had not made restitution for that already
committed. As he waited at "Wisdom's gate" for direc
tion, it was made plain to his understanding that his cov
etousness — that which desired to retain the gain of ini
quity — must be given up to die on the cross. He felt that
all he had unjustly obtained, he must freely pay to the
commissioners of excise, for the service of the common
wealth. This was a close trial to him, as it amounted to
about one-half of all his outward substauce. What added
to the trial was, that he was now not easy to remain any
longer in the excise, and had a wife and five children to
provide for.
While he was in this tried condition of mind, George
Fox was inwardly drawn to pay him a visit; and being
partly informed by Humphrey of the struggles within him,
he said to him, " He that confesseth, and forsaketh his sin,
shall find mercy." Humphrey was made sensible that
George's heart was raised up in prayer to the Lord on his
behalf, and that the petition found acceptance. He has left

1655.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 89
the following record of what followed : " The Lord reached
down His right arm of power, touched my 'heart with His
grace, and made me willing to submit to His will, and give
up the sum of money I had received unjustly. Waiting in
the Light, this was made plain to me, to be near one hun
dred and fifty pounds. But it lay on my heart, to restore
more, rather than less. So I was made free by the power
of the Lord, and did give back at the excise office, London,
one hundred and sixty pounds. Then I felt the truth of
the words George Fox spake to me : ' He that confesseth,
and forsaketh his sin, shall find mercy;' — for much ease,
peace, and refreshment, I received into my soul."
He now resigned his station in the customs, and recom
menced business at his original trade, at the sign of the
Snail in Tower street.
A great care and dread came upon him, lest he should
offend his Heavenly Father in word or deed. He now
read some writings of the people called Quakers, and could
unite with all he found. One of his acquaintance, who
had frequented the meetings of this new Society, asked
Humphrey what he thought of them ; saying that for his
part, he did believe that what they declared, would stand,
when all else fell. Then specifying one of their more ob
vious characteristics, he further queried of Humphrey,
whether he did not believe that "thee" and "thou'-' to one
particular person, instead of the plural " you," was truth ?
Humphrey acknowledged that he did. Then he rejoined,
"If thou dost not come into obedience to what thou art
convinced is truth, thou must come under condemnation."
This also Humphrey acknowledged was true ; and contin
uing to follow, in obedience, the manifestations of the Light
of Truth in his mind, he was brought to know it to be a
"bridle to the tongue," and was strengthened to take up
the cross in this respect, and soon afterwards in respect to
the corrupt practice of putting off the hat in pretended
8*

90 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1655.
honor of persons. This was the day of small things with
him, which, as it was faithfully attended to, was to precede
the days of greater experience in divine wisdom and useful
ness ; but without which, he would not have been led on,
as he afterwards was, from one step of Christian progress to
another, so as to know his feet at length established on
"the Rock of Ages."
He was still at times under great temptations ; yet as he
abode in watchfulness towards the Light, he was preserved
from falling. But at times forsaking that, and letting " the
old man with his deeds which are corrupt" gain the as
cendancy, he made work for bitter repentance. The swift
witness for God then followed him with His judgments, until
he was made to abhor himself in the dust, and unite with
the Lord's Spirit in condemnation of that which had lifted
itself up against the reign of Christ in his soul. He
patiently bore these judgments, and after a time received
power to stand, in the hour of temptation, against the fiery
darts of the adversary. Then he saw, that several things
in his business as a goldsmith, were not acceptable to his
divine Master — that in providing rings and trinkets to sell
to proud and vain people, he was not serving Christ, but
the great enemy of all righteousness ; and he was at length,
by the power of the same Grace that discovered the prac
tice of selling them to be evil, redeemed from that evil
service. Humphrey now joined himself in membership with the
new society, and in 1656 a regular meeting was opened at
his house, which continued to be held there for several
years. He was a good example to his brethren, faithfully
suffering several imprisonments for his Christian principles -,
and died soon after being released from prison, in 1662,
from the effects of the hardships he had endured in his
confinement for conscience' sake.

1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 91

CHAPTER IX.
ACCOUNT OF JAMES PARNEL, — HE DIES IN PRISON, —
GEORGE FOX IMPRISONED IN LAUNCESTON JAIL.
IN the forepart of the year 1656 died James Parnel,
whose short history is of a very interesting character.
He was born about the year 1638, at Retford in Notting
hamshire, and was educated in the schools of the neighbor
hood, and in the common way of worship which was then
prevalent. This did not however change his heart, or
bring him from the corrupt state in which mankind are
by nature, into a state of grace ; though he was often sen
sible of the secret reprovings of the Lord's Holy Spirit, in
his solitary moments, and so clearly were life and death
set before him at times, with a sense of the evil of his ways,
that he would come to a resolution to forsake the sins for
which he felt condemned; but this promise being made
merely in the strength of his own will, it did not stand
against temptation, and he made for himself fresh work for
repentance. The judgments of the Almighty, nevertheless,
followed him, and wrought true repentance in his soul; and
as a brand he was plucked from the fire, to be made a ves
sel of honor in the Lord's house. When he was fifteen
years of age, he was led to see the emptiness and idolatrous
nature of the worship of the world ; and George Fox being
confined in Carlisle Dungeon, he came to visit him, and
was effectually convinced of the truth, and submitted to
the operation thereof in his heart. The Lord, more and
more perfecting his divine work in, an obedient heart,
quickly made him a powerful minister of the word of life.
In his eighteenth year he was moved of his divine Master
to go to Cambridge, where he testified boldly against the

92 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656.
corrupt practices of the magistrates and priests. For this
he was shut up in prison, and after being there detained a
considerable time, as his accusers could not substantiate
any charge against him, he was violently thrust out of the
town under the name of a rogue. He some time afterwards
returned, and continued for about six months to preach the
gospel in the neighborhood of that city; after which he
passed into Essex, and was made an instrument to the con
version of many, and the great discomfiture of the priests.
These, seeing that their craft was in imminent danger of
being brought to naught, appointed a great meeting at
Great Coggeshall in Essex, at which the people were " to
fast and pray against the errors of the Quakers." James
hearing of this, was pressed in spirit to attend the meeting,
in order to defend the truth against the attacks of its ad
versaries. He stood still till the priest had finished his
harangue, and then vindicated the cause of truth and his
own right to speak there, in a masterly manner. They
then bid him pull off his hat, and he declining to do so,
told them that he would rather leave the house ; which he
did, followed by many people. But as he was passing
along the road to a friend's house, he was arrested, and
after a frivolous examination before four justices and six
or seven priests, was committed to the common jail at Col
chester. From this he was taken to the assizes at Chelms
ford, being chained to five felons, and thus dragged eighteen
miles through the country, having a man arrested for mur
der joined to him on the chain.
Being brought before the court, his hat was taken off his
head, and thrown on the floor. The accusations against
him were, that in a riotous manner he entered into the
"parish church" at Great Coggeshall; that he there stood
up and told the minister, he blasphemed, and spoke falsely,
and that he used other reproachful words against him : he
was also charged with being an idle disorderly person, who

1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 93
could not give a good account of his residence, or of his
life and conversation, and with a contempt of the magis
tracy and ministry. He replied, that he by no means en
tered into the steeple-house in a riotous manner, but came
thither quietly and alone ; for that several boys wishing to
go in after him, he bade them go in before, rather than
occasion any disturbance by entering in a disorderly man
ner : that he there stood very orderly, and quietly listened
to their revilings of himself and his friends, till their priest
had finished and was leaving his seats He denied not that
he had told Priest Willis that he blasphemed by saying
"the church in God" (an expression James had used in
the meeting-house,) was nonsense ; and he quoted 2d Thes-
sal. i. 1, where the apostle addresses " the church of the
Thessalonians, in God our Father and the Lord Jesus
Christ." He asked them also to consider whether it was
any more improper for a man to keep on his hat, than his
shoe, or his glove, or whether this were not one of the vain
customs of pharisaical men, who seek honor one of another,
and not the honor which cometh from God only. With
respect to the charge of being an idle disorderly person, he
told them that his life and conversation might speak for
itself, and challenged any to accuse him of disorder ; adding
that though he was not possessed of earthly property, yet
he had a settlement in the Lord, where he had found a hab
itation, and was a laborer in the Gospel of God, in which
none could tax him with idleness ; and that it was indeed
his great labor and diligence in laying open the delusions
of deceivers and deceived men, that had raised up this per
secution against him by those who loved to cherish those
false prophets who would cry "peace, peace" when the
word of the Lord would declare a "woe!" Thus boldly
did this enlightened youth defend his cause. But the
judge overawed the jury, and endeavored to make them
find him guilty ; and when the rest of the jury would have

94 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656.
acquitted him, the judge and the clerk endeavored to draw
forth expressions from their foreman, a notorious drunkard,
not acquiesced in by his colleagues, to justify them in their
determination, and finally sentenced him to pay a fine of
about forty pounds, for contempt ofthe magistracy and min
istry. This of course James could not pay consistently with
his feelings of right, as he had committed no crime, and his
payment of it would have sanctioned their unjust assump
tion. He was thereupon led back to his prison, which was
an old ruinous castle, said to have been built in the times
of the ancient Romans.
The jailer for a considerable time allowed no one to visit
him, but such as came to abuse and beat him ; and his wife
not only sent her servant-man to beat him, but several times
laid violent hands upon him herself, and swore that she
would have his blood. She also set other prisoners to take
away the victuals which his friends provided for him ; and
even denied .him the comfort of a bed, which they wished to
bring for his accommodation ; so that he was compelled to
lie on the cold stones ; which, when the weather was damp,
would run down with water. He was afterwards put into a
place called " the hole in the wall," which appears to have
been a vault, like a baker's oven, in the massive walls of
that direful castle,* and was very high from the ground.
There was a ladder placed under the mouth of this hole, by
which he had to descend to obtain his food. But this ladder
was too short by six feet, and he was under the necessity of
raising himself into the hole from the top of the ladder, by
catching hold of a rope. His friends wished to furnish him
with a cord and basket, by which to draw up his victuals,
but this the malice of his persecutors would not permit. By
* Thomas Scattergood visited this castle in 1796, saw the hole in
which James was confined, and describes the walls as being aboul
twelve feet thick.

1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 95
continual subjection to the damp cold air of this dungeon,
his limbs became benumbed ; so that on one occasion, in
climbing up with his victuals in one hand, and catching at
the rope with the other from the top of the ladder, he missed
his hold, and fell down upon the stones, and was so exceed
ingly wounded and bruised in his head and body, that he
was taken up for dead. They then put him into a similar
hole beneath the other, called "the oven," so small that
some bakers' ovens are more capacious. Here, when the
door was shut, there was no orifice for ventilation or light,
and after he was a little recovered from his accident, they
would not suffer him to take the air, even so much as by
going to the door of the castle, though he was much
exhausted by the close confinement. Some of his friends
seeing the risk to which his life was exposed, offered to lie
in prison for him if he could be permitted but for a short
time to be nursed at one of their houses ; but this also was
refused by his enemies, who thirsted for his blood. And
when, once that the door was left open, he ventured to
breathe the air for a short time by walking in a narrow
yard between two high walls, the jailer came in a great rage,
locked up the hole where he usually lay, and shut him out
in the yard all night, though it was in the coldest time of
the winter. These continued severities at length completely
undermined his constitution, and brought on a mortal sick
ness. As he felt death approaching, he said to those around
him, " Here I die innocently : " a little afterwards, " Now I
must go ; " and turning to Thomas Shortland, he added,
" This death I must die : Thomas, I have seen great things ;
do not hold me, but let me go." Then he said again, " Will
you hold me ?" meaning that he wished his friends freely to
give him up, and not even to desire to retain him : to which
one of them affectionately replied, " No, dear heart ! we will
not hold thee." He had often said, that one hour's sleep
would cure him of all ; and the last words he was heard to

96 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656.
utter, were, " Now I go ; " when he stretched himself out, and
after sleeping about an hour, he breathed out his purified
spirit to Him who had watched and inwardly supported
him, during all his afflictions for His gospel's sake. He
died in the nineteenth year of his age.
About this time, George Fox was taken up, with Edward
Pyot, and imprisoned in Launceston jail, for many months.
He had written, at Market-Jew, an address to the seven
parishes at the Land's End in Cornwall, showing that Christ
is indeed come to teach his people himself, and exhorting
the people to take heed to the light of His Holy Spirit in
their hearts, and prize the day of their visitation. One of
these papers came into the hands of a servant of Major
Ceely, a justice of the peace, who had George and his friends
arrested, and carried by a party of horsemen with swords
and pistols, to Redruth. His own account, somewhat con
densed, of this remarkable transaction, will give a clear view
of the bold and fearless character of this remarkable man,
and of the nature of that persecuting spirit by which he was
assailed. At Redruth, he says, "several of the town's people
gathered about us ; and whilst I held the soldiers in dis
course, Edward Pyot spoke to the people ; afterwards Edward
Pyot held the soldiers in discourse, whilst I spoke to the
people ; and in the mean time the other Friend got out and
went to the steeple-house, to speak to the priest and people.
The soldiers missing him were in a great rage, ready to kill
us ; but I declared the day of the Lord, and the word of
eternal life to the people. In the afternoon, when we got to
the town's end, I was moved of the Lord to go back, to speak
to the old man of the house. The soldiers drew out their
pistols, and swore I should not go back. I heeded them
not; but rode back, and they rode after me. I cleared
myself to the old man and the people, and then returned
with them, and reproved them for being so rude. At night

1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 97
we were brought to Falmouth. There came into our inn
the chief constable and many sober people, and a great deal
of discourse we had with them concerning the things of God.
Some of them were convinced, and stood faithful ever after.
" Next morning, Captain Keat brought a kinsman of his,
a rude, wicked man, and put him into the room, himself
standing without. This man walking huffing up and down,
I bid him fear the Lord. Whereupon he ran upon me,
struck me with both his hands, and clapping his leg behind
me, would have thrown me down ; but he could not, for I
stood stiff and still, and let him strike. As I looked towards
the door, I saw Captain Keat, and said, ' Keat, dost thou
allow this ?' He said, he did. ' Is this manly or civil,' said
I, ' to have us under a guard, and put a man to abuse and
beat us ? ' I desired one of our Friends to send for the con
stables, and then I told the captain he had broken his order ;
for we were to be ' safely conducted ; ' but he had brought a
man to beat and abuse us ; so I wished the constable to keep
the warrant. Accordingly he did, and told the soldiers they
might go their way, for he would take charge of the prisoners,
and they should not have the warrant again. They walked
up and down the house, pitifully blank and down.
" About the eleventh hour, upon the soldiers' entreaty,
and promise to be more civil, the constable gave them the
order again, and we went with them. We met Major
General Desborough on the way ; the captain of his troop,
that rode before him, knew me, and said, ' Oh, Mr. Fox,
what do you here?' I told him I was taken up as I was
travelling. ' Then,' said he, ' I will speak to my lord, and
he will set you at liberty.' So he rode up to the coach,
and spoke to the major general. We also gave him an
account how we were taken. He began to speak against the
Light of Christ, for which I reproved him. Then he told
the soldiers they might carry us to Launceston ; for he could
not stay to talk with us, lest his horses should take cold.
9

98 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656.
" So to Bodmin we were conveyed that night, and Cap
tain Keat put me into a room, and went his way. When I
was come in, there stood a man with a naked rapier (or
sword) in his hand. I called for Captain Keat, and said,
' What now, Keat, what trick hast thou played now, to put
me into a room where there is a man with his naked rapier ?
What is thy end in all this ? ' ' Oh,' said he, ' pray hold
your tongue ; for if you speak to this man, we cannot all
rule him, he is so devilish.' ' Then,' said I, ' dost thou put
me into a room where there is such a man with a naked
rapier, that thou sayst, you cannot rule him ? What an
unworthy, base trick is this ! ' Thus his plot was discovered.
Next day we were brought to Launceston, where Cap
tain Keat delivered us to the jailer. He required us to
pay seven shillings a week for our horse meat, and seven
shillings for our diet, a-piece. Then got up a great rage
among the professors and priests ; and they said, ' We shall
see when the assize comes, whether they will dare to Thou
and Thee the judge, and keep on their hats before him.'
They expected we should be hanged at the assize. But all
this was little to us ; for we saw how God would stain the
world's honor, and glory, and were commanded not to seek
that honor, nor give it.
" It was nine weeks from the time of our commitment, to
the assizes, to which abundance of people came, from far
and near, to hear the trial of the Quakers. Captain Brad-
den's soldiers and the sheriff's men guarded us up to the
court through the multitude of people that filled the streets.
The doors and windows were filled with people looking out
upon us. When we were brought into the court, we stood
a while with our hats on, and all was quiet. And I was
moved to say, ' Peace be amongst you ! ' Judge Glynne,
Chief Justice of England, said to us, ' Why do you not put
off your hats?' We said nothing. 'Put off your hats,'
said the judge again. Still we said nothing. Then said

1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 99
the judge, ' The court commands you to put off your hats.'
Then I said, ' When did ever any magistrate, king, or
judge, from Moses to Daniel, command any to put off their
hats when they came before them? And if the law of
England doth command any such thing, show me that law.'
Then the judge grew very angry, and said, ' I do not carry
my law-books on my back.' 'But,' said I, 'tell me where
it is printed in any statute book, that L may read it.' Then
said the judge, ' Take him away — prevaricator ! I '11 ferh
him ! ' So they took us away, and put us among the thieves.
Presently after he calls to the jailer, ' Bring them up again.'
' Come,' said he, ' where had they hats from Moses to Dan
iel ? Come, answer me ; I have you fast now.' I replied,
' Thou mayst read in the third of Daniel, that the three
children were cast into the fiery furnace by Nebuchadnez
zar's command, with their coats, their hosen, and their hats
on.' This plain instance stopped him : so that not having
anything else to say to the point, he cried again, ' Take
them away, jailer.' Accordingly we were thrust in among
the thieves, where we were kept a great while ; and they
came into the jail to us, and violently took our books
from us.
" In the afternoon, we were had up again into the court,
and I seeing the jurymen and others swearing, it grieved
my life, that such as professed Christianity, should so openly
disobey the command of Christ and the apostle ; and I was
moved of the Lord to give forth to the jurors a paper
against swearing, which I had about me. This paper pass
ing among them, they presented it to the judge, who asked
me, 'if that seditious paper was mine.' I told him, 'If
they would read it up in open court, that I might hear it,
if it was mine, I would own it.' He would have had me
take it, and look upon it in my own hand : but I again de
sired that it might be read, that all might hear it, and
judge whether there was any sedition in it. At last the

100 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656.
clerk read it with an audible voice ; and then I told them
it was my paper : I would own it, and so might they too,
except they would deny the Scripture. They let fall that
subject, and the judge fell upon us about our hats
again, bidding the jailer take them off; which he did, and
gave them to us ; and we put them on again, and asked the
judge and justices, what we had lain in prison for these
nine weeks, seeing they now objected nothing to us but
about our hats : an honor which men seek one of another, but
which God would lay in the dust ; and we requested them
to do us justice for our long imprisonment. But they
brought in a strange indictment, which they had framed,
full of lies, as, that we came ' by force and arms, and in a
hostile manner, into the court ! ' I told them it was false :
being taken up in our journey without cause by Major
Ceely. Then Peter Ceely said, 'May it please you, my
lord, this man (pointing to me,) went aside with me, and
told me how serviceable I might be for his design ; that he
could raise forty thousand men at an hour's warning, and
involve the nation in blood, and so bring in King Charles
[who was then in exile]. I have a witness to swear it ;' and
called his witness. But I desired that my mittimus, in
which my crime was signified, might be read in the face of
the court. The judge said, it should not be read. I said,
'it ought to be, seeing it concerned my liberty and life.'
The judge said again, ' it shall not be read.' But I said,
' it ought to be read ; for if I have done anything worthy
of death or of bonds, let all the country know it.' Then
seeing they would not read it, I said to one of my fellow-
prisoners, ' Thou hast a copy of it, read it up.' ' It shall
not be read,' said the judge ; 'jailer, take him away ; I will
see whether he or I shall be master.' So I was taken away,
and a little while after called again. I still cried to have
my mittimus read, which signified the cause of my commit
ment, and again spoke to my fellow-prisoner to read it.

1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 101
He did read it, and the judge, justices, and whole court
were silent ; for the people were eager to hear it."
This paper was signed by Peter Ceely, justice of the
peace, an^d charged G. Fox and his friends with acknowl
edging themselves to be Quakers, spreading abroad papers
tending to disturbance of the peace, with travelling with
out any pass, or rendering any lawful reason, and with
refusing to give sureties for their good behavior, or to take
the oath of abjuration, &c.
"When it was read, I said to the judge and justices,
' You know that if I had put in sureties, I might have gone
whither I pleased, and carried on the design (if I had one)
which Major Ceely hath charged me with. And if I had
spoken those words to him, judge ye whether bail could
have been taken in that case.' Then turning to Ceely, I
said, ' When or where did I take thee aside ? Was not thy
house full of rude people, and thou as rude as any of them?
But if thou art my accuser, why sittest thou on the bench ?
This is not a place for thee to sit in, for accusers do not use
to sit with the judge : thou oughtest to come down and
stand by me, and look me in the face. Besides, I would
ask whether or not Major Ceely is not guilty of this treason,
which he charges against me, in concealing it so long?
For he tells you here, that I went aside, and told him how
serviceable he might be for my design — that I could raise
40,000 men, &c. He saith moreover, he would have aided
me out of the country, but I would not go, and therefore
he committed me. Now do you not see that Major Ceely
is guilty of this plot and treason, and hath made himself a
party to it, by desiring me to go out of the country, and
not charging me with this pretended treason till now ? But
I deny and abhor his words, and am innocent of his devilish
design. So the judge saw clearly that instead of ensnaring
me he had ensnared himself.
" Major Ceely then got up again, and said, ' if it please
9*

102 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656.
you my lord, this man struck me, and gave me such a blow
as I never had in my life.' At this I said, ' Major Ceely,
thou art a justice of the peace and a major of a troop of
horse, and tellest the judge here, that I (a prisoner) struck
thee. What, art thou not ashamed ? Where did I strike
thee? and who is thy witness?' He said, Captain Bradden
was his witness. Then I said, 'Speak, Captain Bradden,
didst thou see me give him such a blow?' But Captain
Bradden made no answer ; and the judge finding those snares
would not hold, fined us twenty marks a-piece, for not taking
off our hats, and to be Stept in prison till we paid it.
"At night, Captain Bradden came to see us, and seven or
eight justices with him, who were very civil, and told us
they did believe neither the judge nor any in the court gave
credit to those charges which Ceely had brought forward ;
and Bradden said, that Ceely had an intent to take my life,
if he could have got another witness.
" Now we were kept in prison ; and not being likely to be
soon released, we broke off from giving the jailer seven
shillings a-week a-piece for our horses, and the same for
ourselves, and sent our horses into the country. On which
he grew very wicked, and put us down into Doomsdale, a
nasty, stinking place where they put murderers after they
were condemned. The place was so noisome, that . it was
observed, few ever came out again in health. The filth col
lected had not been carried out (as we were told) for many
years ; so that it was all like mire, and in some places to the
top of the shoes in water and filth ; and he would not let us
cleanse it, nor have beds or straw to lie on. At night, some
friendly people of the town brought us a candle and a little
straw, and we went to burn a little of our straw, to take
away the stench. The thieves lay over our heads, and the
head-jailer in a room by them, over our heads also. It
seems the smoke went up into the room where the jailer lay;
which put him in such a rage, that he took the most filthy

1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS'. 103
matter he could collect in the thieves' room, and poured it
through a hole upon our heads ; whereby we were so bespat
tered, that we could not touch ourselves nor one another,
and had like to have been smothered. We had the stench
under our feet before, but now we had it on our heads and
backs also ; and he having quenched our straw with what
he poured down, had made a great smother in the place.
Moreover, he railed at us most hideously, calling us hatchet-
faced dogs, and such strange names as we never heard of.
In this manner we had to stand all night, for we could not
sit down, the place was so full of filth. A great while he
kept us after this manner, before he would let us cleanse it,
or suffer us to have any victuals but what we had through
the grate ; and we had much ado to get water or victuals.
"This head-jailer, we were informed, had been a thief,
and both he and the under-jailer had been burnt in the
hand and shoulder, and their wives had also both been burnt
in the hand.
" The quarter sessions drew nigh, and we drew up our
suffering case, and sent it to the sessions ; upon which the
justices ordered, that Doomsdale door should be opened, and
that we should have liberty to cleanse it, and to buy our
meat in the town. We also sent up a copy to the Protector
[Oliver Cromwell], whereupon he sent down an order to the
governor of Pendennis Castle, to examine the matter about
the soldiers abusing us, and striking me. One of the Pro
tector's chaplains told him, they could not do George Fox a
greater service for the spreading of his principles in Corn
wall, than to imprison him there. And indeed my imprison
ment was for the Lord's service in those parts. The Lord's
light and truth broke forth, shined over all, and many were
turned from darkness to light, and from Satan's power to God.
A great convincement began in the country ; for now we had
liberty to walk in the Castle-green ; and divers people came
to us on First-days, to whom we declared the word of life."

10* HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656.
These innocent sufferers were at length released from
prison on the 13th of the Seventh month of this year, having
oeen confined about six months, during which time their
health appears to have been preserved in a wonderful
manner.

CHAPTER X.
THE CONVINCEMENT, MINISTRY, AND FALL OF JAMES
NAYLER — HIS REPENTANCE AND DEATH.
THE cruelties which Friends suffered about this time, for
their faithful adherence to what was made known to
them as their religious duty, were indeed excessive, and if
mentioned in detail would fill many volumes.* They had
also this year the additional affliction of a falling away from
among their own ranks, of some, who, through unwatehful-
ness and spiritual pride, lost their way, and were taken in
the snares of the enemy.
The occasion of this new trial to the church, was the
excessive adulation paid by some to James Nayler, which,
in an unguarded hour, got the better of his judgment, and
carried him along with them to great and sorrowful extrava
gancies. He was born at Ardsley, in Yorkshire, about the
year 1616, or '18, and during the civil wars served as quar
ter-master in the army of the Parliament under General
Lambert. He was by profession an Independent, and was
convinced of the truth of the principles of Friends by George
Fox, near Wakefield, in the year 1651 ; and being a man
of comprehensive intellect, though of limited education, he
* See Besse's "Sufferings of Friends."

1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 105
brought into the service of the Society a great ability for
being useful ; especially as in the first period of his uniting
with Friends, he exhibited an extraordinary gift of holy
wisdom and humility. The year after his convincement, he
believed himself bound in religious duty, to leave his habita
tion, and travel in the service of the ministry, in the north
western parts of England. He suffered much personal abuse
in Lancashire, in company with George Fox, and was
imprisoned about twenty weeks at Appleby, for having said
that Christ was in him, (in accordance with the apostle's
doctrine : " know ye not that Jesus Christ is in you, except
ye be reprobates." 2 Corinth, xiii. 5) — and that there is
but one Word of God, even He that " was made flesh and
dwelt among us." This, his enemies, the priests, construed
into blasphemy, being afraid that if the sentiments promul
gated by Friends, should be permitted to gain ground, " the
craft by which they had their wealth would be set at naught."
After the termination of his imprisonment, James Nayler
resumed his travels in the service of the ministry, and at
length, in the year 1654, came to London. He declares
that he entered that city with the greatest fear that had
ever been his experience on entering any place ; foreseeing
in spirit that something would befall him in it, but not
knowing what it was to be.
Edward Burrough and Francis Howgill, who had been
fellow-prisoners of his at Appleby, had been the means, as
before observed, of gathering a congregation of Friends in
London; but Nayler now preaching there with eminent
power, many of his admirers began to draw comparisons
between him and his brethren in the ministry ; and about
the year 1656, some inconsiderate women thus undervaluing
Burrough and Howgill, presumed to disturb them in their
public ministry. Being reproved by the two ministers, they
endeavored, though at first unsuccessfully, to enlist the feel
ings of James Nayler in their favor. But James, having

106 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656.
too deep an understanding of the soundness of his brethren's
judgment, was not forward to condemn them ; whereupon
one of these deluded persons, named Martha Simmons, fell
into a kind of paroxysm, and exclaimed with a shrill,
piercing voice, " I looked for judgment, but behold a cry ! "
— accompanying her words with such bitter lamentations,
that poor James, too easily yielding to feelings of com
passion, instead of rebuking her folly, became not only the
dupe of her violent grief and of that of her associates, but
was also further led aside by their flattery. From one step
to another he at length arrived at such a height of spiritual
pride, as to hear, even with a secret feeling of complacency,
the wildest adulation of this woman, and of the other
enthusiastic females who surrounded him. Among them
was one Hannah Stranger, who, it is said, addressed to him
several very wild and preposterous epistle3 ; calling him
" the everlasting Son of righteousness — the Prince of
Peace — the fairest among ten thousand, &c. : " and she,
together with some of the others, in their fanatical folly,
would kneel before him and kiss his feet.
This was a time of great darkness, as James afterwards
acknowledged. And " if the light that is in you be dark
ness, how great is that darkness ! " It is remarkable that
he declared it to have been his fear of opposing what might
be right in his partisans, that prevented him from rebuking
their extravagancies ; and having lost the spirit of discern
ment, he was in a situation to accept almost any thing for
the truth, more especially that which was gratifying to the
natural feelings. He went to Bristol, accompanied by his
frantic admirers, and after making a disturbance there, he
was proceeding towards Launceston, in order to meet with
George Fox (for what purpose it does not appear^, when he
was stopped by the way and imprisoned at Exeter. George
Fox being released on the 13th of the Seventh month from
Launceston jail, went to Exeter and warned James Nayler :

1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 107
who, however, slighted his advice, though he testified
affectionate feelings towards his friend. But the unflinch
ing integrity of George Fox would not allow him to receive
his proffered salute while mixed with so much wilful error ;
and he rejected it with the remark, that since James had
turned against the power of God, he would not receive his
show of kindness. " The Lord," says he, " moved me to
slight him, and to set the power of God over him. I ad
monished him and his company ; and when he was come to
London, his resisting the power of God in me, and the truth
that was declared to him by me, became one of his greatest
burdens." After his release from Exeter prison, James Nayler rode
into Bristol, accompanied by his wild disciples; one of
whom, named Thomas Woodcock, went bareheaded before
him, whilst one of the women led his horse ; Martha Sim
mons, Hannah Stranger, and others, spreading their scarfs
and handkerchiefs before him, and the whole company
shouting Hosanna! etc. in imitation of the manner of the
entry of Christ into Jerusalem. It was to be expected that
so extravagant an act should attract the notice of the police
and magistrates. The procession had scarcely passed the
suburbs, before they were all apprehended, and put in
prison ; and soon afterwards, James was taken to London,
to be examined by the Parliament.
The fall of this eminent man was eagerly seized upon as
a favorable opportunity for aiming a blow at the rising
Society of Friends. Many of the members of Parliament
were strict adherents to the settled forms of religion, but
enemies to its true spirit ; and could not tolerate the sim
plicity of the principles of Friends, because of the severe
reproofs thereby administered to their own system of notions,
and head-knowledge ; and their animosity against the So
ciety being afresh excited, they treated their victim with
the greater severity, not earing to discern that his crime

105 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656.
was a departure from the purity of his profession. The
house took up the subject on the 30th of what was called
November, 1656, and the report of the committee was re
ceived on the fifth of the following month. On the 16th,
the business was brought before it for the twelfth time, after
having been discussed, forenoon and afternoon in the
interim, many members not approving the severity proposed
to be used against him. A motion was made that the pun
ishment should be death ; but this was lost by a vote of
eighty-two to ninety-six ; and after a long debate, on the
17th they came to the followiijg resolution, viz. " That
James Nayler be set on the pillory, with his head in the
pillory, in the palace-yard, Westminster, during the space
of two hours, on Thursday next ; and be whipped by the
hangman through the streets, from Westminster to the Old
Exchange, London ; and there likewise be set on the pil
lory, with his head in the pillory, for the space of two
hours, between the hours of eleven and one, on Saturday
next ; in each place wearing a paper containing a descrip
tion of his crimes : that at the Old Exchange, his tongue be
bored through with a hot iron ! and that he be there also
stigmatized on the forehead with the letter B ; that he be
afterwards sent to Bristol, and be conveyed into, and through
the said city on horseback, with his face backward; and
there also publicly whipped, the next market-day after he
comes thither ; that from thence, he be committed to prison,
in Bridewell, London ; be there restrained from the society
of all people ; and there to labor hard, till he shall be re
leased by parliament ; and during that time, be debarred
the use of pen, ink, and paper, and have no relief but
what he earns by his daily labors."
This sentence was considered by the public, to be too
severe a judgment on a man whose sin seemed more the
result of a clouded understanding, than of depraved inten
tions ; and accordingly several persons of different persua-

1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 109
sions in religion, offered petitions to the parliament on his
behalf; which petitions it was resolved not to read, till the
sentence was pronounced against him. James was denied
the liberty of offering anything in arrest of judgment, and
when he remarked, as the speaker was about to pronounce
sentence, that " he did not know his offence," he was briefly
answered, " that he should know his offence by his punish
ment." He received the sentence with great calmness, and
was heard to say with a composed manner, " I pray God he
may not lay it to your charge."
On the day appointed, he suffered the first part of his
punishment. He remained two hours exposed in the pillory,
and was then stripped, and being fastened to a cart, was
dragged through the streets, receiving three hundred and
ten strokes of the whip. The patience with which he sus
tained this severe treatment, astonished many, especially
when they beheld the pitiable condition of his poor lacerated
body, which was suffered to go two hours without the oppor
tunity of being dressed, and on which, according to a certifi
cate presented to parliament, " there was not the space of a
man's nail free from stripes and blood, from his shoulders
near to his waist ! "
Two days after this, he was to have undergone the further
punishment of being again put in the pillory, of being
branded in the forehead, and having his tongue burnt
through with a hot iron ; but he was found to be so much
exhausted by the severity of that cruel whipping, that several
persons of note, not members of the Society of Friends,
moved with commiseration of his pitiable condition, inter
ceded with his judges, and obtained from parliament a
respite of one week. In the mean time, another petition,
numerously signed, was presented at the bar of the house,
by about one hundred ofthe signers, in which they used the
following expressions :
" Your moderation and clemency, in respiting the punish-
10

110 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656.
ment of James Nayler, in consideration of his illness of body,
hath refreshed the hearts of many thousands, altogether
unconcerned in his practice: — wherefore we most humbly
beg your pardon, that are constrained to appear before you
in such a suit, (not daring to do otherwise,) that you would
remit the remaining part of your sentence against the said
James Nayler, leaving him to the Lord, and to such gospel
remedies as He hath sanctified ; and we are persuaded you
will find such a course of love and forbearance more effectual
to reclaim, and will leave a seal of your love and tenderness
upon our spirits," &c.
This petition was followed by one addressed to Oliver
Cromwell, the Protector ; which occasioned him to send a
message to the house for information respecting their pro
ceedings on the subject ; but the only result was empty
discussion, the majority of the parliament appearing
determined to make the most of this case, and some even
disposed to carry their severity to the extent of taking the
life of their victim. A delegation of five professed ministers
of religion was sent to confer with him, who refused to allow
any witness to be present at their interview. James, being
alarmed at this, declined saying any thing to them, unless
what was said should be written down, and a copy, signed
by themselves, should be left either with him or with the
keeper of the prison where he was confined. To this they
agreed ; but after considerable discourse, and James taxing
them with seeking to ensnare him, they rose up in a fret,
burned what had been written, and left him. It would seem
by what James Nayler afterwards related of this interview,
and his replies to them, that he, poor man, was still, in some
degree, under the power of that delusion which had brought
him into these sufferings; for he was not prepared to
acknowledge that the extravagant behavior of his fanatical
followers should have been reproved by him. He attempted
to palliate their falling down before him, by the supposition

16561] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. Ill
that it was intended as an act of homage, not to him as a
creature, but to the power of Christ which they believed to
be manifest in him.
On the 27th of the month, he was conveyed from Newgate
to the Old Exchange, where he was again exposed in the
pillory, and suffered the boring of his tongue with a red-hot
iron, (which was held for a short time in his tongue, that the
bystanders might witness the fact,) and also the branding
with a red-hot iron on the forehead, until smoke arose from
the burning flesh ! All this he bore with wonderful patience,
and it would seem that compassion had been excited by his
sufferings, in the public mind ; for though many thousands
were said to be assembled on the occasion, yet few were
observed to revile him, or throw anything at him while in
the pillory ; and while he was undergoing the burning on
the forehead, the people, as if with one simultaneous emotion,
stood bareheaded.
After this, he was sent to Bristol, to undergo the remainder
of his punishment; where he was whipped through the
streets ; and finally was returned to London, and kept in
prison until the summer of 1658.
It may well be supposed that so great a fall in an esteemed
member amongst Friends, would be cause of triumph to
their numerous enemies. Such indeed was the case; and
desiring to make what was bad still worse, the vilest calum
nies were also set afloat against his moral character. From
these, however, he was enabled fully to clear himself. His
transgressions had their origin in spiritual pride, excited by
the adulation of weak fanatics, and turned to the purpose
of his destruction by the adversary of his soul, who goeth
about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour, and
as an envious, cunning serpent, seeking whom he may betray.
But though this wanderer from the flock had so grievously
missed his way, and fallen among thieves, he was mercifully
followed, by the reclaiming, redeeming power of Israel's

112 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1658.
Shepherd. During the solitude afforded by his close con
finement, his mind was more and more softened ; and as the
mists of error faded away under the reviving power of the
Sun of Righteousness, he felt the healing virtue of his
Saviour's wing, and was enabled to pour forth, in many
touching effusions, the penitence of his soul.
On his liberation, which occurred very soon after the
death of Oliver Cromwell, about the Seventh month, 1658,
he went to Bristol, the chief scene of his offence; in which
city, in a public meeting, he made a confession of his fault
in so affecting a manner, as to draw tears from most of those
who were present, and to occasion his reconciliation with
many who had been estranged from him. The following
expressions, forming part of a paper addressed by him to
Friends, feelingly set forth his sincere repentance.
"Dear brethren," says he, "my heart is broken this day
for the offence that I have occasioned to God's truth and
people, and especially to you, who in dear love followed me,
seeking me in faithfulness to God ; which I rejected, being
bound wherein I could not come forth, till God's hand
brought me, to whose love I now confess. Unless the Lord
himself keep you from me, I beseech you let nothing else
hinder your coming to me, that I might have your help in
the Lord. In the mercies of Christ Jesus, this I beg of you,
as if it was your own case : let me not be forgotten by you.
And I entreat you to speak to whoever I have most offended ;
and by the power of God, and in the Spirit of Christ Jesus,
I am willing to confess the offence ; that God's love may
arise in all hearts as before, if it be his will, who only can
remove what stands in the way ; and nothing thereof do I
intend to cover; God is witness."
And in another paper, after giving praise to the Lord
Jesus Christ, his Saviour, and the rock of his salvation, who
had lifted him out of the pit, delivered him from darkness,
and given quietness and patience to his soul, he adds : " But

1660.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 113
condemned for ever be all those false worships, with which
any have idolized my person in the nisrht of my temptation,
when the power of darkness was above. All their casting
of their clothes in the way, their bowings and singings, and
all the rest of those wild actions which did any ways tend to
dishonor the Lord, or draw the minds of any from the
measure 01 Christ Jesus in themselves, to look at nesh. or
ascribe that to the visible, which belongs to Christ Jesus, all
that I condemn. And all those ranting, wild spirits, which
gathered about me in that rime of darkness, and all their
wild actions, and wicked words against the honor of God
and his pure Spirit and people, I deny that had spirit, the
power and the works thereon And as far as I gave advan
tage, through want of judgment, for that evil spirit in any
to arise, I take shame to myself justly."
In another paper, relating how he was betrayed into this
snare, he instructively attributes it in great measure to his
"not minding to stand tingle and low;" and there can he
no doubt that if he had kept humbly on the watch, with
his eye single to the divine Light and Leader, he would
have been preserved blameless by the same power that so
livingly sent him forth at first to preach His gospel. But
"there is joy in Heaven over one sinner that repenteth ; "'
and there is joy also in the church over the healing virtue
of that divine love in Christ Jesus, the holy unction of
which is often effectual for the restoration of the diseased
and crippled members to life, and health, and unity once
more with the body. George Whitehead, who knew James
Nayler well testifies of his latter days, that " he was re
vived by the Lords power, and in measure restored to his
ancient tesiimonv. and to hear the same publicly, as the
Lord enabled him, both in ministry and writings ; and he
walked in much brotherly love and simplicity among us,
until his end came."
He lived rather more than two years after his liberation
10*

114 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1660.
from prison, and spent his time in great self-denial and
watchfulness. Departing from London, towards the latter
part of the summer of 1660, for the purpose of visiting his
family in Yorkshire, he was seen by a Friend at Hertford,
sitting by the roadside, in a very solemn and retired frame
of spirit. This Friend invited him to his house ; but he
expressed a wish to proceed. In passing on foot through
Huntingdon, he was observed by another Friend to be in
a particularly solid frame of mind, like one who felt him
self to be a stranger in the earth, and seeking a better and
an enduring inheritance. Soon after this, he was found
towards evening by a countryman, very ill, on a field, near
King's Rippon, having (as it was supposed) been robbed
and personally abused. He was taken to a Friend's house,
and attended by a physician, but gradually sunk away.
He expressed his love for Friends, and to those around him
he said, " You have refreshed my body — the Lord refresh
your souls ! " About two hours before his decease, he uttered,
among others, the following heavenly expressions, evincing
in a consolatory manner, his restoration to the divine fa
vor : " There is a spirit which I feel, that delights to do no
evil, nor to revenge any wrong ; but delights to endure all
things, in hope to enjoy its own in the end. Its hope is to
outlive all wrath and contention, and to weary out all ex
altation and cruelty, or whatever is of a nature contrary to
itself. Its crown is meekness; its life is everlasting love
unfeigned. It takes its kingdom with entreaty, and keeps
it by lowliness of mind. In God alone it can rejoice. I
have fellowship therein, with those who lived in dens and
desolate places in the earth ; who through death obtained
this resurrection, and eternal holy life!" He quietly de
parted, about the 44th year of his age.
Such was the career of James Nayler, and such his
peaceful close. Awfully instructive was his fall, as a
warning to all to beware of that spirit which would lift us

1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 115
up above the pure teachings of the "still small voice" in
the secret recesses of the heart. And sweetly edifying is it
also to dwell on the depth and riches of that redeeming
love which raised the poor soul from the horrible pit, and
set his feet upon a rock, and put a new song into his mouth,
even praises to his great and gracious Lord.

CHAPTER XI.
FIRST VISITS OF FRIENDS TO AMERICA — CRUEL PERSECU
TIONS IN NEW ENGLAND, ETC.
THIS eventful year to the Society of Friends (1656) was
also remarkable as being the era of the first arrival of
any of the ministers of the Society on the continent of
America. Mary Fisher, a young woman of about thirty years of
age, and Anne Austin, who had a husband and five chil
dren residing in London, were, in 1655, travelling together
in the ministry of the Gospel in the island of Barbadoes ;
and in the spring of 1656, they sailed for Boston, under a
concern of mind to spread the doctrines of the true spirit
ual religion among the high professing, but priest-ridden
and intolerant inhabitants of Massachusetts Bay. Nearly
twenty years before this, Rhode Island had been purchased
from the Narragansett Indians for fifty fathoms of beads,
and settled by a colony from Boston, who had left the latter
town in disgust at the attempts made to introduce by foroe,
a system of religious uniformity. Many of these original
colonists of Rhode Island afterwards became Friends, and
afforded a quiet resting-place for the poor persecuted mem
bers of the Society, when whipped or banished out of the
adjoining patent.

116 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656.
Anne Austin and her companion arrived at Boston in
the Fifth month, and their arrival was quickly announced
to the deputy-governor ; who in his zeal to prevent any in
roads on the settled religious opinions of the colony, com
manded that they should be closely confined on board the
ship that brought them, and that their books should be
burned by the common executioner, under the vague and
false charge of heresy and blasphemy. The council also
ordered that the women should be closely imprisoned, and
that the captain of the ship should give security, on pain
of imprisonment, to convey them back speedily to Barba
does, at his own cost. So fearful were those bigoted people
of the light of truth to discover their false opinions and evil
deeds. Being brought on shore, these harmless and innocent
women were closely confined, and a penalty of five pounds
threatened against any one who should even speak to them
through the window of their prison. The window indeed
was afterwards boarded up, and their pens, ink and paper
were taken from them, to prevent any communication with
the citizens. Their persecutors now raised the cry of witch
craft, doubtless with the hope of putting them to the same
death as had already been meted out to two women a short
time previous. Finding no overt act as evidence of this
unfounded charge, they scrupled not to examine the per
sons of their prisoners, in a cruel and indecent manner, to
see if there were no mark of witchcraft upon them, under
the popular superstitious notion that some unusual sign
was set upon the bodies of those who had thus sold them
selves to satan. Their enemies now refused to supply them
with food, or allow it to be brought to them by the citi
zens ; but an aged inhabitant, touched with compassion for
their sufferings, bribed the jailer to allow him privately to
furnish them with provisions.
After an imprisonment of nearly five weeks, they were

1656.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 117
shipped back to Barbadoes under strict guard. But
scarcely had these two ministers of the Gospel sailed from
the port, when a vessel arrived from London, bringing
eight others, viz. ; four men and four women. These also
were immediately seized, carried before the court then sit
ting, and subjected to a long and frivolous examination.
Their trunks on board the vessel were searched " for erro
neous books and hellish pamphlets." During their exam
ination they steadfastly maintained that the Scriptures
were not the main or only guide of life, and that the " more
sure word of prophecy," mentioned by Peter (2 Peter i. 19),
was the eternal Word and sure guide to which we are to
take heed. Sentence of banishment was pronounced upon
them, and they were directed to be kept close prisoners,
without paper or ink, and all communication forbidden
with the citizens, until they could be returned by the same
ship that brought them thither ; the captain being also im
prisoned for four days, to induce him to give bond to take
them back at his own charge.
All that had hitherto been done against Friends, was
without even the shadow of law ; for they had been seized
^before setting their feet in the country, and thus prevented,
even if so disposed, from violating any of the laws of the
colony. But their persecutors now framed a law to sanction
their past and future arbitrary proceedings, in which the
" cursed sect of heretics, commonly called Quakers," were
severely denounced, and all captains of vessels knowingly
bringing any of them into the colony, were made liable to
a fine of one hundred pounds, or to be thrown into prison
till paid, and were to give security to carry them back to
the place whence they should have come. It was further
enacted, that any Quaker who should arrive should be
forthwith committed to the house of correction, be severely
whipped, and kept constantly at work, without being
allowed to speak with any one during his or her imprison-

118 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1656.
ment. The rest of the law was of the same spirit, pro
viding for the punishment of any who should possess
Friends' books, or advocate their principles. After it was
passed, it was proclaimed through the streets by beat of
drum. Nicholas Upshall, the aged inhabitant who had
supplied Anne Austin and Mary Fisher with food, became
much interested in Friends and in their principle's ; and
when this law was proclaimed before his door, he publicly
testified his disapprobation of it. For this offence he was
cited before the court, where he spoke in much tenderness,
but warned them to " take heed lest they should be found
fighting against God." He was fined, imprisoned, and
banished from Boston patent. This venerable man took
refuge in Sandwich ; but the governor of Plymouth patent
forbade the inhabitants of Sandwich to offer him shelter,
and directed him to be brought before him at Plymouth.
These tyrannical proceedings, both at Boston and elsewhere,
had the good effect of opening the eyes of some, to see the
inconsistency of the rulers' conduct with the precepts of the
Gospel, and tended to prepare the sincere-hearted among
the people for sympathizing with the oppressed, and re
ceiving with openness the doctrines of Friends, which, not
withstanding all these attempts to suppress them, were more
or less spread abroad in the country. The eight Friends
above mentioned were, on the passing of the new law,
hurried on ship-board, to be conveyed away ; and as all
their bedding had been seized for the jailers' fees, some of
the inhabitants of the neighborhood, affected at the idea of
these innocent sufferers being obliged to take such a voyage
without bedding to rest upon, subscribed a sum of money,
and redeemed their goods for them out of the hands of the
jailer. Such was the reception which Friends met with on
first setting foot in New England, from a people who pro
fessed that for the sake of liberty of conscience, they had
left their native land for a home in the wilderness of North

1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 119
America. This, however, as will presently be seen, was but
the beginning of a persecution, which did not stop until it
had, on the gallows, taken the lives of several of these
devoted people.
The next Friends who came to Boston were again two
females ; Anne Burden and Mary Dyer ; who arrived early
in the year 1657, without knowledge of the cruelties which
had been already exercised, or of the law which had been
passed to sanction still further inflictions. The former of
these women came over to collect debts due to the estate of
her deceased husband, with whom she had formerly resided
in the neighborhood of Boston ; and Mary Dyer was on her
way to join her husband in Rhode Island. Both had prob
ably become convinced of the principles of Friends in Eng
land. They were now seized by the authorities of Boston,
and kept close prisoners, until Mary Dyer's husband came
from Rhode Island, and became bound in a great penalty
to take her away from the colony, without suffering any to
speak with her ; and Anne Burden, without being suffered
to complete the business which had brought her over, and
having received but six shillings of the debts due to her,
was, after an imprisonment of three months, conveyed by the
common hangman on board the vessel which had brought
her from London.
Of the eight Friends above mentioned, who were sent
away from Boston in 1656, six found it to be their religious
duty the next year to return to America, and were joined
by five others. They came over in a small vessel owned
and commanded by Robert Fowler, making a company of
twelve zealous advocates for the truth as it is in Jesus ; and
were remarkably guided and protected by their divine
Master on the arduous voyage. As they came to land,
which was on the same day on which Humphrey Norton,
one of their company, had early in the voyage mentioned
that he believed they should arrive, "the power of the

120 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1657.
Lord," to use their own language, " fell upon them, and an
invisible word came to them, that the seed of America
should be as the sand of the sea." Several of them went
ashore at New Amsterdam, (now New York,) and two of
them, viz., Robert Fowler and Robert Hodgson, visited the
governor, who received them civilly. Two others of their
company, however, viz., Mary Weatherhead and Dorothy
Waugh, for delivering Christian exhortations to the people,
were committed to prison, and separately confined in wet
and miry dungeons, for more than a week ; when they were
at length brought out by two negroes, their hands being
tied behind them ; and were thus led to the water-side, and
placed on board a boat for Rhode Island. Robert Hodgson
passed over into Long Island, and was made instrumental
to the convincement of many. He was however arrested
at Hempstead, and cruelly pinioned, tied behind a cart,
and thus dragged nearly thirty miles in the night, over bad
roads, and mostly through the woods to New Amsterdam,
where he was thrown into a dungeon to await his sentence.
This was of no light nature, he being denied a hearing in
his own defence, and condemned, for preaching the Gospel
freely and faithfully, to " work two years at a wheelbarrow,
or pay, or cause to be paid, 600 guilders." The fine of
course he could not pay, as he was innocent of any crime,
and the paying of it would have been an acknowledgment
of the authority of man to stop the progress of the gospel
of Christ. The cruelties he underwent while thus in bond
age, would have disgraced a heathen people. Twice he
was so severely beaten by a negro, with a tarred rope more
than an inch thick, that he fainted away. He was confined
two nights and a day and a half without any food. Twice
he was hung up by his hands, and weights were attached to
his feet, and his back was then unmercifully beaten by a
strong negro with rods. Being thus brought apparently
very near the close of all mortal suffering, and desiring that

1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 121
some English people might be permitted to visit him and
examine his body, a woman was admitted, who washed his
stripes, and administered what she could to his necessities ;
but his strength was so reduced, his flesh so lacerated, and
the dungeon so devoid of all comforts, that she told her
husband she thought Robert could not live till the next,
day. A number of the inhabitants now offered to pay the
fine for him; but Robert told them he was not easy to
receive his freedom that way. He believed the Lord would
heal him, and was free to labor, when restored to strength,
for the sustenance he should need. In a few days he was
favored to be sufficiently recruited to enable him to work,
and was well contented with his mean fare of bread and
water. At length the community at large became so dis
satisfied with the cruelties and continued imprisonment to
which he was subjected, that their entreaties prevailed on
the governor to set him at liberty.
Christopher Holder and John Copeland, two of the fellow-
passengers of Robert Hodgson, went over into the island
called Martha's vineyard, where there was a mission estab
lished among the native Indians. But the priests of the
mission would not suffer them to remain ; and after a few
days' hospitable entertainment by the poor Indians, they
were by the governor's orders, taken from the island in a
canoe, and landed on the coast near Barnstable. They
were gladly received at Sandwich by some sincere seekers
after truth, but being at length arrested and brought to
Plymouth, and thence banished from the jurisdiction, they
took refuge in Rhode Island.
Mary Clark was another of these fellow-passengers, who
first proceeded to Rhode Island, and thence to Boston ; re
garding not what sufferings she might sustain, so that she
might deliver the Lord's errand there, and " be discharged
of that burden of the word which lay so sore upon her."
Here she was arrested, barbarously beaten, receiving twenty
11

122 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1657.
stripes with a heavy three-corded whip on her naked back,
and committed to prison for twelve weeks ; during the latter
part of which she suffered much from the cold. After her
release, she labored in the gospel throughout New England,
until the next summer, when, with Richard Dowdney and
Mary Weatherhead, who also composed part of Robert
Fowler's company, she suffered shipwreck, being suddenly
called by her heavenly Master, from the scene of her suf
ferings in this world, to the eternal reward prepared for
those who have come through much tribulation, and had
their robes washed in the blood of the Lamb.
Christopher Holder and John Copeland were also called
to suffer for their testimony to the truth. They proceeded
from Rhode Island into Massachusetts, and freely preached
the gospel ; which found place among many, and took such
root that all the endeavors of interested and bigoted men
could not eradicate it. But going into the public worship
house at Salem on a First-day, Christopher was moved to
speak a few words after the usual service was over. On
this he was furiously seized by the hair of his head, and a
glove and handkerchief thrust into his mouth. The two
Friends were violently carried away, and taken to Boston ;
where they- received each thirty strokes of a three-corded
and knotted whip, laid on with the executioner's utmost
strength. Their bodies were thereby miserably torn and
inflamed ; yet they were allowed neither bed nor straw to
lie on, and for three days the jailer furnished them neither
food nor drink ; the only sustenance they received, being a
little water given them by one of the prisoners, who, for
this act of charity, was fiercely threatened by the jailer.
They were not however forsaken by their Divine Master,
but sustained and preserved in this time of extremity, and
enabled to rejoice in the sensible evidence of His approving
presence. Richard Dowdney also, who had come through
Long Island and Rhode Island to Boston, was imprisoned
with them.

1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 123
Humphrey Norton, before mentioned, remained some
time in Rhode Island and Providence, and then went to
visit the seed sown and springing up in Plymouth colony.
He was not permitted long to minister among the new con
verts there, but was arrested by a warrant from the governor,
as " an extravagant person," and detained long without an
examination. At length he was brought before the court,
where many of the magistrates appeared disposed to be
moderate. But the governor was violent against him, and
commenced an attack on the principles of Friends, denying
that the Light which enlighteneth every one was sufficient
to salvation. Humphrey, to manifest his blindness, showed
him in express words of Scripture, that " the grace of God,
that bringeth salvation, hath appeared unto all men ; " and
that Christ had said, " my grace is sufficient for thee."
The governor then asked him, "whether the Scriptures
were not the rule of life, and ground of faith ?" Humphrey
replied in the negative, and proved, from the Scriptures
themselves, that they did not claim this character ; inform
ing them that it was " through faith in Christ Jesus," the
great Author and finisher of our faith, and the true Rule
and Guide of life, that the Scriptures were able to make
wise unto salvation. The governor was unable to convict
him of any breach of the laws, yet he banished him from
the colony, and had him conveyed fifty miles on the way
to Rhode Island. Some time after this, travelling near
New Haven, he was arrested, confined a considerable time
in prison, cruelly whipped and burnt in the hand, and
banished the patent.
The rulers of Boston, finding that notwithstanding their
persecuting law, the seeds of truth had taken root among
many at Salem, and in other parts of the colony, and that
the Quakers still continued to come in among them, drew
tne cords of persecution still tighter, and passed a law im
posing a fine of one hundred pounds (or imprisonment till

124 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1657.
paid) on any one who should " bring or cause to be brought
any Quakers or other blasphemous heretics into the juris
diction ; " and a penalty of forty shillings per hour upon
any one who should entertain or conceal them in their
houses ; and enacting that every Quaker who should pre
sume to enter the colony, after having once suffered what
the former law inflicted, (if a man,) should, for the first of
fence, have one of his ears cut off, and be kept at work in
the house of correction, till he can be sent away at his own
charge ; and for the second offence, shall have his other ear
cut off, and be kept at work as before ; or (if a woman) shall
be severely whipped and kept at work; and that for the
third offence, whether man or woman, their tongues should
be bored through with a hot iron, and they should be kept
at work. This law also included in its penalties, those who
should join Friends among themselves; and as they had now
a number of this devoted people in confinement, the jailer
received orders that they should all be " severely whipped
twice a week, beginning with fifteen lashes, and every time
to exceed three ! " The Plymouth colony also enacted se
vere laws against Friends ; and the governor of New Am
sterdam published a law, imposing a penalty of £50 ster
ling on any one who should receive a Quaker into his
house, though but for a night ; and enacting that any vessel
bringing a Quaker info that jurisdiction should be forfeited,
with all its goods. This law however produced great dis
satisfaction among the more serious part of the community,
particularly on Long Island ; and indeed in this, as well as
in the other colonies, the power and wrath of man were not
able to stop the progress of the work to which the Lord
had called his faithful servants. During the year 1657,
meetings were established and regularly kept up, in private
houses, in the neighborhood of Salem and of Sandwich ;
one was held at Providence, and another on Rhode Island.
On Long Island there were many individuals convinced of

1658.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 125
our principles ; and as far south as Maryland, there were
found seals of the efficacy of the labors of these indefati
gable and undaunted publishers of the glad tidings of the
Gospel. We have seen that some part of the West Indies had been
visited by Friends in 1656. The hearts of many inhabitants
of Barbadoes had been in measure opened to comprehend
the spirituality of the Gospel, when John Bowran was drawn
to visit them in the year 1657. This friend also, passing
over to the South American continent, visited Surinam, and
travelled along the coast of Guiana for several hundred
miles, with an interpreter, preaching the word of the true
God to the Indian natives.
Early in the year 1658, Sarah Gibbons and Dorothy
Waugh left Rhode Island, " to visit the seed at Salem." It
was a wilderness journey of more than sixty miles, and was
performed on foot, and «partly through a great storm of
snow. Besides this, they were obliged to lodge without
shelter in the woods. But the Lord their Master preserved
them through all dangers ; and after laboring in the gospel
among their friends at Salem, they went bound in the Spirit
to Boston. As might be expected, they were soon arrested,
confined in prison about a week without food, and beaten
with a three-corded whip, the knots of which cruelly tore
their flesh. About the time that they were released, Horred
Gardiner, of Newport, the mother of many children, believed
it her duty to go to Weymouth, a town within the Boston
patent, and there bear a testimony for the truth. Having
a young infant, and travelling on foot, she took with her a
girl named Mary Stanton, to assist her in carrying the child.
She reached the place in safety, and her message found a
witness to its truth in the hearts of the people ; but some of
the baser sort caused her to be arrested, and carried to
Boston. Here she was abusively examined by Governor
Endicot, and committed with her attendant to prison, where
11*

126 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1658.
they each received a severe whipping from the three-corded
and knotted whip. Her poor babe was at her breast during
the execution, protected by the arms of a mother's love, and
unconscious of the agony which that mother was enduring.
When the infliction was over, she knelt down, and breathed
forth a petition that her persecutors might be forgiven of
her Father in Heaven, for they knew not what they did.
Struck with the meek and forgiving spirit of the prisoner, a
woman who stood by, was much moved, and gave " glory to
the Lord," saying, " Surely, if she had not the Spirit of the
Lord, she could not do this." They were detained after this,
two weeks, in prison, during which time none of their friends
were allowed to visit them.
The spirit of persecution during this year was very active,
particularly in the Plymouth colony ; and many instances
were afforded of patient endurance of hard suffering, and of
undaunted firmness in maintainingjhe cause of pure spiritual
religion, which it is not necessary here to narrate. Yet we
can scarcely pass away from the transactions of this year
without briefly relating two other instances of wicked cruelty,
which paved the way for the dreadful scene of the succeeding
year, in which the blood of martyrs for the testimony of
Jesus, was shed by the rulers of Boston.
In the fourth month of this year (old style), Thomas
Harris, William Brend, and William Leddra, the first and
last of whom had landed the previous year at Rhode Island
from Barbadoes, passed towards Massachusetts. Thomas
Harris entered Boston, and was soon committed to prison ;
where he was twice severely whipped, and was kept for five
days without any nourishment, until food was secretly con
veyed to him during the night, through the window of his
prison. William Brend and William Leddra, passing on
to Salem, were gladly received by Friends there ; but after
wards were treacherously seized near Newburyport, and
carried before the court then sitting at the former place.

1658.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 127
Several other Friends were also arrested for having attended
their meetings ; and they were all committed on the second
of Fifth month to Boston prison. William Brend and
William Leddra were put into a room which had the window
stopped, so as almost entirely to prevent the passage of air ;
none of their friends were allowed access to them, neither
were they permitted to purchase food. The keeper some
times brought a little pottage and a piece of bread ; but as
he would not take their money, and said they should not
have the food without working for it, they were not free to
touch it. They thus had no nourishment for several days.
On the fifth of the month, the magistrates directed that two
of the prisoners, Lawrence and Josiah Southwick, should be
reserved to lose their ears, and that the rest should be
whipped. In pursuance of this order they suffered ; even
Cassandra Southwick, Josiah's mother, receiving her portion
of the cruel punishment. They were then detained for the
fees, which they were not at liberty with a clear conscience
to pay. The next day, the jailer put William Brend into
irons for not working. He placed a fetter on each leg, and
one round his neck, and drawing them with force together,
left this aged man locked in this suffering position for six
teen hours. The next morning, on his again declining to
work, the jailer took a piece of inch rope, and beat him with
all his strgngth, till after striking about twenty times, the
rope began to untwist. Dreadfully mangled, William was
taken back to his close room ; but the same day he was
again brought down-stairs, and being commanded to labor,
declined as before. The jailer now produced a much stronger
rope, and continued to beat William therewith until he had
given ninety-one blows, and his own strength was exhausted.
The poor sufferer, beside that his back was beaten till it
seemed almost like a jelly, had now been five days without
food ; and shortly after the keeper left him, he sunk down
and seemed to be dying. The rulers became alarmed, for

128 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1658.
fear they should be charged with having murdered him, and
endeavored by all means to revive him. The governor sent
his physician to him, who reported that his recovery was not
probable, as the flesh was in such a condition that it would
decay from the bones. The populace became excited at the
idea of murder perpetrated by a public functionary, and the
whole town was in commotion.
Humphrey Norton and John Rouse came to Boston at
this time from Rhode Island, in deep sympathy with their
suffering brethren. They also were arrested, whipped, and
shut up in prison. William Brend was favored to recover
rapidly. But several ofhis companions were subjected to a
new order of the magistrates ; which was, that if they still
refused to work, they should be regularly whipped twice a
week, increasing three lashes each time, till they should
submit. Having all of them been whipped but a short time
before, the old wounds were still fresh, and opened and bled
freely at the renewed application of the lash. The people
of Boston became more and more excited, and in compassion
for them, a sum of money was raised by subscription, where
with the fines were paid, and all, except the five friends from
Salem, were sent away from the colony. Two of the latter
were soon afterwards released, but the remaining three were
detained for twenty weeks.
Christopher Holder, John Rouse, and John Copeland,
being again imprisoned at Boston in the ninth month, suf
fered the cruel punishment of having their right ears cut off
by the hangman, and were afterwards again whipped.

1659.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 129

CHAPTER XII.
MARTYRDOM OF WILLIAM ROBINSON, MARMADUKE STE
VENSON, MARY DYER AND WILLIAM LEDDRA — GEORGE
FOX IMPRISONED IN SCARBOROUGH CASTLE.
WE now approach the consummation of all these cruel
ties, which had often appeared to be the aim of the
Boston rulers, even the taking away of the life of their in
nocent victims. In the Tenth month of this year, they
enacted a law to banish all Quakers who should come
among them, " on pain of death."
In the Ninth month of the next year, (1659,) William
Robinson, Marmaduke Stevenson, Mary Dyer, and Nich
olas Davis, who were prisoners for the cause of a good con
science in Boston jail, were by this law banished from the
colony, with the provision, that their return would be the
forfeiture of their lives. The two former left the town of
Boston, but did not feel free (although at so great a peril)
to leave the jurisdiction, until they should have a clear in
timation from their Divine Master, that they were at liberty
to depart. They therefore went to Salem and the neigh
borhood, endeavoring to build up their friends in the faith.
It was not long, however, before they were arrested, again
imprisoned, and chained by their legs. The next month,
Mary Dyer returned also, and being recognized, was like
wise taken into custody. On the twentieth, the three were
brought before the Governor and court, and desired to lis
ten to their sentence of death. William Robinson, who had
prepared a paper, setting forth his reasons for not having
departed from the jurisdiction, now asked liberty to read it.
This was peremptorily refused. He then laid it on the table,
containing among other things, a declaration " that he had

130 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1659.
not come thither in his own will, but in obedience to his
Creator — that the Lord had commanded him to go to Bos
ton, and there to lay down his life, — that he had felt an
assurance that his soul was to enter eternal peace and
rest — and that he durst not disobey, believing that it be
came him as a child, to show obedience to the Lord, with
out any unwillingness." The governor read the letter to
himself, but would not suffer it to be read aloud in the
court, and presently pronounced the sentence, "that Wil
liam Robinson should be had back to the prison whence he
came, and thence to the place of execution, to be hanged
on the gallows till he should be dead." The same sentence
was then pronounced against Marmaduke Stevenson and
Mary Dyer ; to which the latter replied, " The will of the
Lord be done." The governor then said, " Take her away,
marshal;" to which she returned, "Yea, joyfully I go."
In going back to the prison, she uttered frequent praises to
the Lord, being full of holy joy that she was counted worthy
to suffer shame for His name, and told the marshal, he
might let her alone, for she would go to the prison without
him. To which he replied, "I believe you, Mrs. Dyer; but
I must do what I am commanded." Marmaduke also gave
forth a paper, after sentence was pronounced, in which he
clearly stated his divine call into that colony, and that it
was not in his own will, but in the will of God. And
Mary Dyer, from her prison, addressed the court in writing,
making a similar declaration, and solemnly warning them
that if they put to death any of these, the Lord's servants,
it would tend to their own destruction.
They remained a week in prison, and on the 27th of the
Tenth month, were led to the gallows by the marshal, at
tended by a band of about two hundred armed men, be
sides many horsemen. The envious priest Wilson, also
joined the company, who, when the court was deliberating
how to deal with the Quakers, had said, " Hang them ; or

1659.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 131
else" — (drawing his finger across his throat, as if he would
have said,) " Dispatch them this way." As they proceeded
to the place of execution, the drums were beaten, especially
when any of them attempted to speak. Glorious signs of
heavenly joy sat upon the countenances of these martyrs for
the truth, who walked hand in hand, as if going to an ever
lasting feast. When they approached the gallows, the
priest in a taunting way, said to W. Robinson, " Shall such
jacks as you come in before authority with their hats on?"
To which he replied, " Mind you, it is for not putting off
the hat, we are put to death ! " They now took leave of
each other with tender embraces ; and W. Robinson going
cheerfully up the ladder, said to the people, many of whom
were doubtless awfully impressed with the iniquitous pro
ceeding, " This is the day of your visitation, wherein the
Lord hath visited you : this is the day the Lord is risen in
his mighty power, to be avenged on all his adversaries."
He also declared that he suffered not as an evil-doer, and
desired the spectators to mind the Light of Christ which
was in them, of which he had testified, and was now going
to seal his testimony with his blood. The rope being put
around his neck, and his hands, legs and face being bound,
and the executioner about to turn him off, he said, " I suffer
for Christ, in whom I live, and for whom I die." He was
then turned off; and Marmaduke stepping up the ladder,
said, " Be it known unto all, this day, that we suffer not as
evil-doers, but for conscience' sake." And adding, " This
day shall we be at rest with the Lord;" he too was
launched into the eternal world. Mary Dyer, seeing her
companions hanging dead before her, also stepped up the
ladder ; but after her clothes were tied about her, the halter
adjusted about her neck, and her face covered with a hand
kerchief, just as she was about to be turned off, a cry was
heard, that she was reprieved. Her son, it seems, had in
terceded for her life, which was granted at the last minute.

132 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1660.
She was roughly taken down from the ladder, and con
veyed back to prison ; and the magistrates perceiving that
the people began to be much discontented at the violence
of their proceedings, resolved to send her away. She was
accordingly conveyed towards Rhode Island on horseback,
guarded by four men, and thus returned home. She is
said to have been a person possessed of some extraordinary
mental qualities, of a comely and grave countenance, of a
good family, and the mother of several children.
The bodies of the two Friends who suffered death, were
barbarously thrown into a hole, without any covering ; and
when some of their friends would have laid them in
coffins, this was denied them ; as also was the privilege of
fencing the place around, to prevent their being preyed
upon by the wild beasts, which then abounded in this new
country. Mary Dyer, in the spring of the next year, (1660,) found
herself constrained once more to return to Boston, notwith
standing the sufferings which she knew awaited her. She
arrived there on the 21st of the Third month, and ten days
afterwards was sent for before the governor and general
court. Being questioned, she undauntedly acknowledged
herself to be one of those in scorn called Quakers, and that
she was the same person who had been there at the last
session of the court. She was told that the sentence passed
upon her before was now to be renewed, and that she must
prepare herself to die the following morning. To which
she replied, that she came in obedience to the will of God,
to desire. them to repeal their unrighteous laws. They
would not hear her out, but cried, " away with her ; away
with her ! " and sent her back to prison.
Next morning the marshal came, and called her hastily
to come. And rudely entering the room where she was,
she desired him to stay a little, and mildly added, that she
should be ready presently. But he roughly replied that

1661.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 133
he could not wait upon her, but she should now wait upon
him. Margaret Smith, her companion, being grieved at
such unfeeling behavior, expressed her sense of the injus
tice of their proceedings ; to which he threateningly said,
" you shall have your share of the same." Mary was then
led through the town with a band of soldiers, the drums
being beaten before and behind her, to prevent her from be
ing heard in speaking to the spectators. Being come to the
gallows, and having ascended the ladder, she was told that
if she would return home, she might yet save her life. To
which she replied, " Nay, I cannot ; for in obedience to the
will of the Lord I came, and in His will I abide faithful to
the death." The priest cried out to her to repent, and not
to be so deluded. But she let him know that the work of
repentance was not then to be entered upon by her. Sev
eral observations of a like nature were made to her, and in
reply she spoke of the heavenly state of mind which had
for some days been her portion, and of the eternal happi
ness into which she was now about to enter. She was then
turned off, and finished her course, a martyr for the truth
in Christ.
The next that suffered death was William Leddra. He
had already been banished from Boston on pain of death ;
but was under such necessity of conscience, that he could
not forbear returning. He was soon arrested, and being
fastened to a log, was kept night and day locked in chains,
in an open prison, during a very cold winter. Early in the
spring of 1661, he was brought into the court, with his
chains on, and the log at his heels : and asking the jailer
when he would take off the irons from his legs, he unfeel
ingly replied, that it should be, when he was about to be
hanged. Being brought to the bar, he was told that he
was to die. He asked, what evil he had done. He was
told that he had owned those Quakers who had been put
to death, and had said that they were innocent ; and besides,
12

134 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1661.
that he would not put off his hat in court, and that he
said thee and thou. Then, said he, " You will put me to
death for speaking English, and for not putting off my
clothes!" To this Major-general Denison returned, "A
man may speak treason in English." William Leddra
inquired, " Is it then treason to say thee and thou to a single
person ? " No one answered ; but a member of the court
asked him, whether he would go for England ? To which
he replied that he had no business there. The member then,
pointing to the gallows, said, " Then you shall go that way ! "
To which William returned, "What! will ye put me to
death for breathing in the air of your jurisdiction? I
appeal to the laws of England, and if by them I am guilty,
I refuse not to die." Of this no notice was taken, but they
endeavored to persuade him to conform to their wishes ; to
which with a grave magnanimity he answered, " What ! to
join with such murderers as you are? Then let every man
that meets me, say, lo ! this is the man that hath forsaken
the God of his salvation." He was again assailed by the
offer, that if he would promise to depart from the jurisdic
tion, and to come there no more, his life should be spared ;
but knowing that to purchase his natural life by making a
promise, the fulfilment of which might forfeit his duty to
his Lord and Master, would bring spiritual death to his
soul, which was much more to be dreaded than the death
of the body, he replied : " I stand not in my own will, but
in the will of the Lord. If I may have my freedom [from
Him], I shall go ; but to make you a promise, I cannot."
He was accordingly condemned to death, and was led back
to his prison. The day before his execution, his mind was
drawn out in an affectionate farewell address to his beloved
friends. " The sweet influences of the morning star," says
he, "like a flood distilling into my innocent habitation,
have so filled me with the joy of the Lord in the beauty of
holiness, that my spirit is as if it did not inhabit a taber-

1661.J THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 135
nacle of clay, but is wholly swallowed up in the bosom of
eternity, from whence it had its being." " Oh, my beloved,"
he afterwards adds, " I have waited as a dove at the win
dows of the ark, — and my heart did rejoice, that I might
in the love and life of God, speak a few words to you, sealed
with the spirit of promise, that the taste thereof might be a
savor of life to your life, and a testimony in you of my
innocent death." " Therefore, my dear friends, let the en
joyment of the life alone be your hope, your joy and conso
lation — let the man of God flee those things that would
lead the mind out of the cross — stand in the watch within,
in the fear of the Lord, which is the very entrance of wis
dom — stand still, and cease from thy own working — con
fess Him before men, yea, before his greatest enemies — fear
not what they can do unto you. Greater is He that is in
you, than he that is in the world. He will clothe you with
humility, and in the power of his meekness you shall reign
over all the rage of your enemies, in the favor of God ;
wherein, as you stand in faith, ye are the salt of the earth ;
for many seeing your good works, may glorify God in the
day of their visitation.
" Bring all things to the Light, that they may be proved,
whether they be wrought in God. The love of the world,
the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eye, are without
the light — therefore possess your vessels in all sanctifica
tion and honor, and let your eye look at the mark."
Thus did he encourage them to faithfulness, and concluded
by commending them to that grace which himself had
experienced, and by which they also might attain to salva
tion. What must have been the emotions with which those
words of exhortation were received, penned as they were on
the eve of suffering martyrdom for that faith which he so
earnestly pressed upon his friends.
The next day, being the 14th of the First month, (old
style,) 1661, the awful sentence was executed. After the

136 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1662.
lecture, (solemn farce as it was !) Governor Endicot came
with a guard of soldiers to the prison. William Leddra's
irons by which he had been chained to a log, night and
day, during a cold winter, were knocked off, and he was
conducted to the gallows, where he was pinioned ; and as
he was about to ascend the ladder, he took leave of a friend
who was then under sentence of banishment, saying, " all
that will be Christ's disciples must take up the cross." On
the ladder he said to the people, " For the testimony of
Jesus, and for testifying against deceivers, and the deceived,
I am brought here to suffer ; " and continuing cheerful, as
the hangman was putting the halter round his neck, he was
heard to say, " I commit my righteous cause unto thee, 0
God ! " And adding " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit," he
was turned off, and finished his days on earth, to receive
that " crown of life " which is given to those who are
" faithful unto death."
The persecutors had also in confinement Wenlock Chris-
tison, on the same account, whom likewise after much dis
sension among themselves, the governor condemned to death.
But from some cause which did not appear, he was with
twenty-seven more of his friends, suddenly set at liberty.
And now we may turn from these scenes of blood, from
which the heart recoils, and see what was taking place in
other parts of the Society.
In the year 1662, George Fox and Richard Hubberthorn
addressed a letter to the king, setting forth the affecting
facts, that during the protectorate of the two Cromwells,
three thousand one hundred and seventy-three of their
friends had been imprisoned for conscience' sake, and for
bearing a testimony to the truth as it is in Jesus — that
there still lay in prison seventy-three individuals, committed
under the power of the Commonwealth — that thirty-two
during the protectorate died in confinement, through cruel
and hard imprisonments, upon nasty straw and in dun-

1665.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 137
geons — and that during the two years since the king's
restoration, three thousand and sixty-eight had been im
prisoned on the like account ; and their meetings were still
broken up by violent men, and Friends were cruelly thrown
into waters, or trodden down till the blood gushed from
them — the number of which abuses, they said, could
hardly be uttered. They therefore besought the king to
consider their innocence, and put a stop to these grievous
sufferings. But the next year, George himself was impris
oned at Lancaster; whence being removed in 1665 to Scar
borough castle, he suffered much from exposure to cold and
wet in a miserable room, open to the weather, and was not
released until 1666, by appealing to the king, on the injus
tice of his case. The room in which he was first immured
had no proper defence from the rain, nor exit for the smoke ;
and when George had spent a considerable sum of money in
rendering it more comfortable, they speedily removed him
into another room, overlooking the sea, and so open to the
weather, that the wind drove the rain in forcibly, and the
water came over his bed and ran about the room, to such a
degree that he had to lade it up with a plate. There was
in this room neither chimney nor fireplace. When his
clothes were wet, he had no fire by which to dry them, and
by this damp, and the cold weather, he became much dis
eased. They would frequently prevent his friends from
bringing him food ; so that he had to hire a soldier to bring
him bread and water; a three-penny loaf of bread com
monly served him three weeks, and sometimes longer ; and
his drink was mostly water, with wormwood bruised and
steeped in it. One time when the weather was very sharp,
and he had taken a great cold, he procured a little elecam
pane beer ; but the soldiers contrived to have him sent for
to the deputy-governor, and in his absence stole his
beverage. During the early part of this imprisonment, while in
12*

138 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1657.
Lancaster jail, he had a sense ofthe sufferings ofhis friends
in New England, as above related, and likewise of the
approach of that awful scourge, permitted by the Almighty
to come upon a guilty people, in the memorable fire of Lon
don, by which a great part of that city was destroyed, com
mencing the next day after his release from Scarborough
castle.

CHAPTER XIII.
THE CONVINCEMENT OF RICHARD DA VIES.
ABOUT the year 1657, Richard Davies, a Welchman,
who had been educated in the Episcopal society, but
had joined the Independents, became convinced of the truth
of the principles held by the people called Quakers, and
united himself in fellowship with them. As he was one of
the first witnesses for these principles raised up in Wales, so
he also became in after-time, one of the most valiant and
useful instruments in the Lord's hand, in gathering and
confirming that people in his own country, even through hot
persecution. His simple narrative of his convincement,
gives so clear a statement of the ground on which he
embraced these principles, and of the gradual but steadv
development of Christian truth in his mind, through the
successive manifestations of the Divine Light, inwardly
received, cherished and obeyed, that we mav do well tc
pursue it in some of his own words, as an example, out of
many thousand similar instances, of the way and work of
the Lord.
"About the year 1656," says he, " our ministers told u»,

1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 139
that there was a sort of people come up in the north, called
Quakers, that were a people of strange posture and princi
ples. They were represented to us to be such a dangerous
sort of people, that we were afraid of any who had the name
of Quakers, lest we should be deceived by them. Hitherto
they had not been in these parts, neither did we know what
were the principles held out by themselves ; but only such
as were reported to us, though falselyT, by our preachers and
others ; which kept us in blindness, and from making further
inquiry, from trying all things, and holding fast that which
is good. "About the year 1657," — Richard Davies being then
about twenty-two years of age, — he continues : " there came
a poor man, in a mean habit, to my master's house, named
Morgan Evan, of South Wales : he had met with the people
called Quakers in his travels, and was convinced of the
truth. This poor man discoursed with my master about the
principles of truth, and I being in the shop about my calling,
my mistress came to me, and said, ' Why do you not go out
to help your master ? for there is a Quaker at the door, that
hath put him to silence.' I hearing this, made haste, and
took my Bible under my arm, and put on what courage I
eould, to dispute with that poor man ; but he proved too
hard for us all. When I went to them, they were upon the
words thee and thou. I very peremptorily asked him, what
command he had to speak thee and thou. I acknowledged
to him it was the language of God to Adam, and the lan
guage of Scripture; ' but,' said I, ' that is not enough for us
now in this day; we must have a command for it.' To
which he answered, ' Hold fast the form of sound words,
which thou hast heard of me.' I told him, we heard the
Quakers denied the Scripture, and would not read them.'
He said, there were many false reports of them. And truly,
when he quoted the Scripture so readily, I concluded that
what was reported of them was not true ; and he saw that

140 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1657.
he had reached to the witness of God in me. Then he
exhorted me to take heed to that light which shined in my
heart, and showed my vain thoughts, and reproved me in
secret for every idle word and action ; saying, that was the
true Light, which lighteth every man that cometh into the
world ; and in that light, I should see more light, and that
would open the Scriptures to me, and I should receive a
measure of the same spirit which gave them forth. And
further, he told me, it was the more sure word of prophecy,
unto which I did well to take heed, " as unto a light that
shineth in a dark place until the day dawn and the day-star
arise in the heart." And he spoke much of the inward work
and operation of God's Holy Spirit on the soul ; recommend
ing me to the grace of God, that bringeth salvation, ' teach
ing us, that denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should
live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world.'
And so he departed, and I set him along on his way.
" The consideration of his words took fast hold on me, that
I could not go from under them ; and the more I waited in
that light to which he recommended me, the more my former
peace, and that in which I formerly took comfort, was
broken. Herein I came to see that our former building
could not stand, for we built upon that which the apostle
called ' wood, hay, and stubble.' Thus I came to a loss of
all my former knowledge, and my former performances
proved but a sandy foundation. Then I did, with much
humility and poverty of spirit, beg of Almighty God, that I
might build upon that Rock which the true church of Christ
was built upon, that the gates of hell might not prevail
against me.
" I was made willing to lay hold on the precious promises
of Holy Scripture, and waited for the fulfilling of them in
myself, and of that which Christ said to the Jews, 'It is
written in the prophets, And they shall be all taught of
God. Every man therefore that hath heard, and hath
learned of the Father, cometh unto me.'

1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 141
" When I came to know a little of the teachings of the
Lord, I took my leave of all my former formal teachers, and
many times went into the woods and other by-places, where
none might see me, to wait upon the Lord ; wher§ I was
much broken and tendered by the power of God. And
though I began to see a little of myself, and something of
the goodness of God, still I was afraid of being deceived ;
for I had read that ' Satan himself is transformed into an
angel of light.' I desired of the Lord that I might see this
poor man once again ; for I knew not where to see the face
of any called a Friend. And it pleased God that he came
again that way. Then I queried of him their way of
worship, and concerning those two great ordinances, so
called, that we so much relied upon, namely, the bread and
wine, and baptism ; and respecting the Scriptures, to know
what was their judgment of them ; — to which he gave me
some satisfaction. In the morning I parted with him, and
to my knowledge I saw him no more for several years.
" In all this time I still kept my retirement in the woods,
or some other private place ; and there waiting, I desired
of the Lord, that I might be farther satisfied by himself as
to those things : first, Whether the Scriptures were the Word
of God, as was said and preached unto us they were, and the
way to life and salvation. Then the first chapter of John
came under my serious consideration. [' In the beginning
was the Word ; and the Word was with God, and the Word
was God,' &c] I, with many more, was under that mistake
the Jews were, who thought they might have eternal life in
the Scriptures; whereas Christ saith, 'Search,' or, 'ye search
the Scriptures ; for in them ye think ye have eternal life :
and they are they which testify of me. And ye will not
come unto ME, that ye might have life.'— As He is the life,
so he is the way to the Father : ' I am the way, the truth,
and the life : no man cometh unto the Father but by me.'
As for the Scriptures, I was a great lover and a great reader

142 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1657.
of them, and took great pleasure in searching them, thinking
that would make me wise unto salvation. Paul said to
Timothy, 'And that from a child thou hast known the Holy
Scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation,
through faith which is in Christ Jesus' — This main thing
was wanting in me, the true and saving faith, which ' is the
gift of God.' ' For by grace ye are saved, through faith,
and that not of yourselves : it is the gift of God.' So it is
the grace of God that brings salvation, and not the bare
historical knowledge of the Scriptures. Men may have a
great literal knowledge ofthe Scriptures, and yet remain iu
error, because they know them not as they ought to do, nor
the power that was in the holy men that gave them forth :
as Christ said to the Jews, 'Ye do err, not knowing the
Scriptures, nor the power of God.' That which gives the
true knowledge of God, and a right understanding of the
Scriptures, is therefore the power of God. ' For,' says the
apostle, ' God, who commanded the light to shine out of
darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the
knowledge of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ.'
And as men and women come to mind this light, that is, the
Spirit of God, and to obey it, they shall come to the comfort
of the Scriptures, of which the same apostle speaks : ' What
soever things were written aforetime were written for our
learning ; that we, through patience and comfort of the
Scriptures, might have hope.'
"And being under a serious consideration of what I read
in the sacred writings, I believed the Spirit of the Lord to
be the interpreter thereof. Those great mysteries that were
hid from ages and generations, and are hid now in this our
age from many, are come to be revealed by the Spirit of
God. And though formerly I read the Scriptures as too
many do, without a true sense and due consideration, yet
now, I can bless God for them, and have great comfort in
the reading of them ; they being no more as a sealed book

1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 143
to me, and many more, who wait for the assistance of* God's
Holy Spirit, in all their duties and performances ¦ for with
out Him we know that we can do nothing that is pleasing
unto him. Formerly we ran in our own time and wills to
preach and pray, not having a due regard to the leading and
moving of the Spirit of the Lord : but many times, when I
arose from my knees in a formal way of prayer, the reproof
was very near me, ' Who required this at thy hands ? It is
sparks of thy own kindling.' I was afraid that I should lie
down in sorrow, as was said to some by the Lord. Isaiah i. 11.
" I had much reasoning in my mind concerning water
baptism, and the bread and wine. And when I was satisfied
as to those weighty concerns, I thought I might rest there,
and keep my old customs, and fashions, and language. But
that would not do ; I had no peace therein. God showed
me the vain customs of the nation, and that our language
was not according to the language of God's people, recorded
in the Scriptures of Truth. And withal I knew a little
grammar, and how it was improper to say vos (you) to a
single person, instead of tu (thou). I also believed that the
Lord would return to his people ' a pure language,' as was
promised in the days of old. Zeph. iii. 9. Thus I was con
scientiously concerned to speak the ' pure language * of thee
and thou to every one, without respect of persons ; which was
a great cross to me. Though it seems to some but as a weak
and foolish thing, yet when the Lord lays the necessity of
speaking the truth to all, in the language that God and all
his servants used, it comes to be of greater weight than many
light airy people think it is. This necessity being laid upon
me, I spoke to my master in that dialect. He was not
offended at it, because he was convinced of the truth of it,
and that it ought to be spoken to every one. But when I
gave it to my mistress, she took a stick, and gave me such a
blow on my bare head, that made it swell and sore for a
considerable time. She swore she would kill me, though she

144 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1657.
should be hanged for it ; though before that time, she seldom,
if ever, gave me an angry word. But I considered that,
' that which was born after the flesh persecuted him that was
born after the Spirit.'
" The Almighty put it into my heart to consider the cost,
and that through tribulation I was to enter into the kingdom
of heaven ; and I was faithful in this testimony that I had
to bear. I was much encouraged to go on in that strait and
narrow way, that God showed me I was to walk in ; con
sidering the saying : ' Whosoever doth not bear his cross,
and come after me, cannot be my disciple.' — And my prayers
unto Him were, that He would enable me to go through all
things that He required of me.
"I was now first called a Quaker, because I said to a
single person thee and thou, and kept on my hat, and did
not go after the customs and fashions of the world, that other
professors lived and walked in. Though some of these would
complain of their own formalities, and were weary of the
fashions of the world, yet they did not take up their cross
and leave them. In thus doing I had great comfort from
the Lord, and did receive from Him living satisfaction, and
encouragement to go on in my way. — The Lord kept me,
and his people, very meek and low in our minds, in a self-
denying spirit. We waited for the living Word, that came
with a living voice from Him that speaks from heaven to
us by His Spirit ; and the living voice is the voice of ' Christ
in us, the hope of glory ; ' which voice we esteemed more
than our necessary food. For obeying this voice, we came
to be mocked and derided ; and they spoke all manner of
evil against us, and hated us for His name's sake. — These
and the like afflictions I was to meet with, if I truly and
faithfully followed the Lord Jesus Christ ; therefore I labored
to put on the whole armor of light, that I might be able to
withstand the fiery darts of the wicked one.
" The rage of my mistress was not yet abated, though she

1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 145
had nothing against me but my not conforming to the cor
rupt language and vain customs of the world ; for I labored
to keep a conscience void of offence both towards God and
man. One time, when she thought it a fit opportunity to
execute her cruelty, she fell into a great rage ; and I was
freely given up to die that hour by her ; but the Lord was
pleased to accept of my free-will offering. He appeared for
my deliverance, and made her more moderate the rest of my
servitude. And after I went away, the Lord visited her
with a sharp fit of sickness ; in which time she said that she
thought she should not die till she had asked me forgive
ness, desiring them to send for me, even if it were from
London. And so they did. I could freely forgive her, for
that I had done long since ; and I prayed to my Heavenly
Father that he might forgive her also. It pleased God to
touch her with a sense of his love, and lengthen her days ;
she confessing often the wrong she had done to an honest
careful young man, as she said I had been, who had minded
her husband's inward and outward good, more than they
themselves did.
"About this time (1657) it was the talk of the country,
that I had become a Quaker. My parents were much con
cerned about me. I had not been yet with them, but
waited for clearness in myself, and then I went to see them.
It was a trouble to them to see that I did not, as formerly,
go down upon my knees to ask their blessing, and bow to
them, and take off my hat. My father soon turned his
back upon me. I had heard of his displeasure, and of his
having said he would leave me nothing — that they thought
to have had comfort of me, but now expected none, but that
I would go up and down the country, crying, Repent ! Re
pent! — I remembered David's condition, when he said,
'Thou hast been my help; leave me not, neither forsake
me, O God of my salvation. When my father and my
mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up. Teach
13

146 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1657.
me thy way, O Lord, and lead me in a plain path, because
of mine enemies.'
"At length my mother came tenderly to me — and when
I discoursed with her out of the Scriptures, her heart was
much affected with the goodness of God towards me. She
went for my father, and said to him, ' Be of good comfort ;
our son is not as was reported of him ; we hope to have
comfort of him yet.'
"A little after this, I came to hear that some ofthe people
called Quakers were at Shrewsbury, distant from my abode
about eighteen miles. I waited for an opportunity to go to
see them, and the way of their worship, for as yet I had not
seen any of them, but that one poor man before mentioned.
I went first to the house of John Millington, where many
Friends resorted, and they of the town came to see me in
great love and tenderness, and much brokenness of heart
was among us, though but few words. We waited to feel
the Lord among us, in all our comings together. When
the first day of the week came, we went to a meeting at
William Pane's ; and though it was silent as to words, yet
the Word of the Lord was among us. It was as a hammer
and a fire — it was sharper than any two-edged sword — it
pierced through our inward parts — it melted and brought
us into tears, that there was scarcely a dry eye among us.
The Lord's blessed power overshadowed our meeting, and
I could have said, that God alone was Master of that assem
bly. The next day, we heard that John ap John was to
have a meeting there. I stayed to that meeting ; where I
heard, for the first time, one called a Quaker preach in a
meeting. And when I heard him, I thought he spoke as
one having authority, and not as the scribes, his words
were so sound and piercing.
" I came home ; where I was under many considerations,
and especially that of Christ's words, ' Ye are the light of
the world. Let your light so shine before men, that they

1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 147
may see your'good works, and glorify your Father which is
in heaven.' And afterwards the Lord required of me to
go and give my testimony for Him, and to warn a com
pany of people to think of their latter end, who were met
to dance and to play, not far from my master's house.
When I came within the room where they were dancing,
the fiddler ceased playing, and they dancing; and I de
clared the word of the Lord among them. That which
was chiefly before me was that of Job xxi. 11, 13. 'They
send forth their little ones like a flock, and their children
dance. They take the timbrel and harp, and rejoice at the
sound of the organ. They spend their days in mirth, and
in a moment go down to the grave.' When I had dis
charged myself of what lay upon me, I parted from them
in love and peace. They thanked me for my good exhorta
tion, and some of them came to set me home.
"After this, I still waited to know the will and counsel
of God, and that he might direct me in my way, and order
my steps in this my spiritual travel. For I had none to
look unto but Him alone, who was all-sufficient to carry on
the work which He had begun, though often by weak, poor,
mean, and contemptible instruments in the eye of the world.
Well might I say with the apostle, ' But God hath chosen
the foolish things of the world to confound the wise ; and
God hath chosen the weak things of the world to con
found the things which are mighty ; and base things of the
world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen,
yea, and things which are not, to bring to naught things
that are.'
"About this time I went to visit some young men, my
former companions in profession of religion. Two of them
were convinced, and received the Truth. When we were
come to the number of four, it was with me, that we ought
to meet together in the name of the Lord ; for I remem
bered the promise of Christ, who said, ' Where two or three

148 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1657.
are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst
of them.' So we all agreed to meet together ; but none of
us had a house of > his own to meet in. We determined
therefore to meet on a hill in a common, as near as we
could for the convenience of each other, we living some
miles apart. There we met in silence, to the wonder of the
country. When the rain and weather beat upon us on one
side of the hill, we went to the other side. We were not
free to go into any neighbors' enclosures, for they were so
blind, dark, and ignorant, that they looked upon us as
witches, and would go away from us, some crossing them
selves with their hands about their foreheads and faces.
" Thus we continued for some time, till two of them left
me [to live elsewhere]. The third was William Davies:
and we met together for some time ; but one time he stayed
[away] longer than usual, and a dark spirit possessed him,
so that the little time we were together was not comfortable
to me ; and when we had broken up the meeting, he asked
me, ' How I did think we should stand, in the face of the
whole country?' I answered him with great zeal, 'The
serpent, the serpent, the same that beguiled the woman in
Paradise, hath beguiled thee; — thou wilt not be able to
stand.' And while we were yet discoursing, I saw my
master coming; two women followed him, the one being
his wife, my cruel mistress, the other his sister. They both
had staves in their hands, and when they came to us, my
mistress began beating William Davies. So his trial came
very quickly, and he came no more to meet with me, nor
any other Friends for many years. It so happened that I
had not a blow among them.
"These young men going away thus, I was left alone
again, but still I kept waiting upon the Lord, to know his
will concerning me. And when the time of my apprentice
ship was over, I found freedom to go to London ; and find
ing many Friends there, I settled to my trade ; and well

1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 149
satisfied I was that I could go to meetings and follow my
business. When any thing would come into my mind of
this my native country [Wales], barren and uninhabited
with Friends and Truth, I endeavored to shut it out, and to
keep where I was. But all my fair pretences and reason
ings would not do. Disobedient to the Lord I was, and
trouble and sorrow and judgment from the Lord came upon
me, for not obeying his command, to go to my own country,
and stand a witness for Him there. In this my disobedience
I continued, till I lost His presence, and He smote me with
trouble within, and pain in my bones, that I could not
work. My pain of body and spirit increased, till at last I
was forced to bow to the will of the Great God, who was
too strong for me. And reasoning with Him one night upon
the bed of my sorrows, he showed me clearly, that I was to
go to my own country. And I was made willing to go, if
He would be pleased to let me know his will and pleasure
by this token, that Se would remove my pain. I aLso rea
soned with Him thus : that I was alone, like a pelican in
the wilderness, or a sparrow on the house-top. The Lord
still commanded me to go, showing that Se would provide a
help^meet for me. And when I had made a covenant with
the Lord to go, immediately my pain was removed, and I
had peace and quietness of mind. I arose next morning,
and went to my work ; and when those tender Friends that
had a regard for me in my sickness, came to see me that
morning, I was gone to work, to their admiration.
" The Lord, in a little time, provided a help-meet for me,
for I prayed unto Him, that she might be of his own pro
viding. We concluded to lay our proceedings before our
elders, and especially George Fox — who desired the Lord
to be with us. And when we saw our clearness in the Lord,
we went to the meeting in Tower Street, London, in the
morning, and in the afternoon to South wark ; and in that
meeting, in the presence of God and that assembly, we took
13*

150 HISTOEICAL MEMOIES OF [1657.
each other to be man and wife. God alone knew our inno-
cency and integrity in coming together. It was not for
gold, nor silver, nor any outward thing ; but to be service
able to Him in our age and generation, and to stand wit
nesses for Him and His blessed Truth, where he should
send us. Soon after, in the Lord's time, we made what
haste we could to come to the country where we believed
the Lord would have us to be, and we said, ' 0 Lord, if
thou wilt be with us in our way, and give us bread to eat
and raiment to put on, then, O Lord, thou shalt be our
God.' And the Lord was with us, and gave us His sweet
and comfortable presence."
Richard Davies continued to reside in Wales for many
years, and became an eminent instrument in the hands of
his Divine Master, in gathering many from the barren
mountains of an empty profession, to sit down in the silence
of all flesh, and learn from the great Minister of ministers
the manifestations of His holy will, and the mysteries of
pure spiritual religion.

CHAPTER XIV.
GEORGE ROBINSON GOES TO JERUSALEM, AND MARY FISHER
TO TURKEY.
ABOUT the year 1657, several of the ministers raised
up to testify to the universal grace of God through
Christ, as the free offer of salvation to all mankind, were
called forth by their divine Master, to bear witness to his
goodness, as with their lives in their hands, among the semi-
barbarous inhabitants of the coasts of the Mediterranean sea.

1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 151
George Robinson, of London, believed it required of him
to travel in the service of the gospel to Jerusalem, and there
bear his testimony to pure and spiritual religion. Embark
ing from Leghorn in Italy, he landed at the port of Ptole
mais, now called Acre, in the Levant, and thence proceeded
to Joppa, and Ramlah, or Arimathea. But the Romish
priests at Jerusalem, hearing of him, and understanding
that his object was to decry the superstition of pilgrimages,
which was their chief means of support, procured his arrest
and confinement. After a short imprisonment, an old
Turkish inhabitant of the place took him to his house, and
for several days entertained him with much hospitality.
At length there came an Irish friar from the Popish priests
and friars at Jerusalem, who began to question him, whether
he would, on his arrival at that ancient city, visit the vari
ous holy places, as they were called, pay the usual sums of
money, and wear the customary habit of the pilgrims ? He
was also enjoined not to speak anything about religion, or
against the Turkish laws which were in force there. George,
however, was not at liberty to submit to terms, which would
have fettered the operations of the Holy Spirit through
him as an instrument of the divine will ; and steadfastly re
fusing to comply with their wishes, he was carried back by a
guard of horse and foot soldiers to Joppa, and thence con
veyed to Acre, where he had first landed. Here he was
kindly entertained by an old French merchant, who was
secretly drawn in sympathy towards him ; and feeling still
a necessity laid upon him to endeavor to prosecute his
journey, this merchant assisted him to return to Joppa,
whence he again reached Ramlah on foot. On the road he
was attacked by three robbers, who plundered him, but
afterwards, moved perhaps by his innocent behavior, or by
the special interposition of Divine Providence, one of them
returned what they had taken, and in a friendly manner
conducted him on his journey. Arriving at Ramlah, he

152 HISTOEICAL MEMOIES OF [1657.
was again seized by the contrivance of the friars, and car
ried into one of the Mahometan mosques ; where he was
required, on pain of death, to profess the Mahometan
religion, in compliance with the custom of the Turks, that
whoever enters a mosque must embrace their religion or die.
Some of their priests pressed him with much solicitation ;
but he persisting in his refusal, and in the true spirit of the
martyrs declaring that he would rather die than violate
his conscience by complying with their demand, they grew
angry ; and delivering him to the executioner, he was hur
ried away to the place of execution, to be burnt to death.
Here he was made to sit down upon the ground, as a sheep
among wolves ; and as he sat, engaged in inward supplica
tion, and resigned to the will of his divine Master, He
whom he served was pleased to interpose for his deliverance ;
the Turks began to fall out among themselves ; and a grave
old man of note among them came up to him, and declared,
that whether he would turn to their religion or not, he
should not die. He was again interrogated, whether he
would deny his Saviour ; to which he firmly answered, No !
The old man ordered his servants to conduct George to his
house, where he treated him kindly for some days. But
the friars still plotted against him, and hired a guard of
horsemen to carry him to Gaza, before the Pacha, trusting
that their insinuations had influenced this officer against
him. But coming to Gaza, some of the Turks acquainted
the Pacha with the malicious designs of the friars, and
instead of complying with their wishes, he made them pay
a considerable fine, and compelled them to convey George
Robinson in safety to Jerusalem. Their own malice thus
proving the means of his obtaining an official authority
which they could not withstand, they now tried other arts
on his arrival at their convent, to frustrate the object of
his journey; and like sycophants, began to flatter him,
telling him that his preservation through so many enemies

1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 153
was miraculous, pretending that they had been misinformed
about him, and offering that if he would visit their pre
tended holy places, as other pilgrims, he should do it with
out cost, instead of having to pay them considerable fees.
But George, faithful to his testimony against the supersti
tious veneration for those places, replied, "I shall not visit
them in your manner ; for in so doing I should sin against
God." They told him that if he would conform, they
would honor him as much as they had honored any Eng
lishman that had ever visited them ; but he told them he
should not conform, and as for their honor, he mattered it
not. They then became angry, and began to threaten to
make him an example to all Englishmen who should come
thither ; but he said, I choose your dishonor rather than your
honor; and told them, that they, under pretence of doing ser
vice to God, in visiting the places where the holy men dwelt,
opposed and resisted that life which the holy men of God lived
and walked in ; adding that he would have them turn from
those evil practices, else the wrath of the Almighty would
be kindled against them. They did not like such discourse,
and replied that whether he would go to see their places or
not, the Turks must be paid, and insisted that if he wo»»ld
not visit them, he must pay twenty-five dollars, " for the
Turks " as they pretended ; though if he would visit tb<nr
favorite relics, " they would pay the money for him." But
he told them that he would not comply with any such
unreasonable demands.
They then brought him before one of the Turkish officers
of the city, who, discoursing about the worship of the
Christians, asked him the ground of his coming to Jeru
salem. He answered, "that he came thither by the com
mand of the Lord God of heaven and earth ; and that the
great and tender love of God was made manifest in visiting
them ; His compassionate mercies being such, that he would
gather them in this the day of his gathering." Having

154 HISTOEICAL MEMOIES OF [1657.
now, as he believed, delivered the message with which he
had been commissioned to these people, having practically
testified against their bigotry, and cleared his conscience of
their blood, he found great peace with the Lord, and re
turned home, magnifying His glorious name, who had pre
served him through so many dangers, and provided a way
for him in the midst of his enemies. It is remarkable, that
the friars were compelled by the Turks to convey him back
safely, and free of charge, to the port of his embarkation.
Mary Fisher, who had now returned from the scene of
persecutions in New England, felt an extraordinary con
cern in her mind, to pay a visit to the Sultan of Turkey,
Mahomet IV., then encamped with his army near Adria-
nople. She proceeded as far as Smyrna, where the English
Consul stopped her, and sent her back to Venice. Still,
however, endeavoring to obey her Maker rather than man,
she prosecuted her journey by another route, and travelling
overland she arrived safely at Adrianople, a journey of five
or six hundred miles. There she requested some of the
inhabitants to accompany her to the camp ; but fearing the
displeasure of the Sultan, they objected, and she was obliged
to go alone. At the camp she sent a message to the Grand
Vizier, that " there was an Englishwoman who had some
thing to declare from the Great God to the Sultan ; " who
sent her word that the next morning he would procure her
an opportunity of an interview. Accordingly returning to
the city that night, she went back to the camp at the time
appointed, and was brought before the Sultan and his great
officers of state. He asked her whether it was true that she
had a message to him from the Almighty, to which she
answering that it was so, he bid her speak on. She stood
silent a while, with her mind retired in inward waiting for
the divine motion and power, to give weight and energy to
what she had to deliver ; when the Sultan, supposing she
might be fearful of expressing herself before them all,

1657.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 155
asked her whether she wished any of the company to retire.
She answered, no; and he then desired her to speak the
word of the Lord to them, and not to fear, for they had
good hearts, and would hear it ; strictly charging her to
deliver the whole message, neither more nor less, for they
were willing to hear it, be it what it might. She then in a
weighty frame relieved her mind of what lay upon it, to
which the Turks listened with much seriousness and gravity ;
and when she had finished, the Sultan asking her if she had
any more to say ; she asked if he had understood what she
had said? To which he replied, "Yes, every word;"
adding that it was truth, and respectfully inviting her to
remain in the country. When he found that she wished to
go to Constantinople in order to return home, he offered
her a guard, saying that it was unsafe for her to travel
alone, and that he would not, for any consideration, have
any injury occur to her in his dominions. This, however,
she modestly declined, confiding in the protection of that
Divine Arm which had brought her thither. Then some
of them asked her, what she thought of their prophet Ma
homet ? To which she made a cautious reply, saying, " that
she knew him not ; but Christ she knew, who was the true
prophet, the Son of God, the Light of the world, that en-
lighteneth every man that cometh into the world." After
some more conversation, she took her leave, and departing
for Constantinople without a guard, arrived there safely,
without the least injury or in.sult, and thence returned to
England; having experienced respectful kindness and
attention from those called infidels, in remarkable contrast
with the bigoted cruelty of men unworthily claiming the
name of Christians, whom she had encountered in New
England.

156 HISTOEICAL MEMOIRS OF [1658.

CHAPTER XV.
THE SUFFERINGS OF CATHARINE EVANS AND SARAH CHEE-
VERS IN THE INQUISITION AT MALTA — AND OF JOHN
PHILLY AND WILLIAM MOORE IN HUNGARY, ETC.
IN the year 1658, Catharine Evans and Sarah Cheevers,
under a religious concern to propagate, in the dark
lands of superstition and ignorance, the doctrine of the di
vine Light of Christ in the heart of man, took passage in
a ship bound from London to Leghorn; where arriving
safely, they stayed some time, discoursing on religion-with
the people who came to them, and distributing the books
of Friends, explanatory of their principles. Hence they
took passage in a Dutch ship bound to Alexandria; but
the master put into Malta ; and the women landing were
met by the English Consul, gave him some books, and ac
cepted an invitation to his residence. Curiosity now drew
many of the inhabitants to visit them, whom they found it
laid upon them to call to repentance, and several were seri
ously touched by their testimony. They went also to the
nunnery, to see the governor's sister, where they conversed
on religious subjects with the nuns, and distributed books.
Here a priest found them, brought them into the chapel,
and wanted them to bow before the high altar. But with
abhorrence of such idolatry they firmly refused, and went
back to their abode at the British Consulate. During
three months of their stay there, they were several times
called before the officers of the Inquisition, and examined
about their religious principles; but through the wisdom
with which they were furnished, they answered in such a
manner as neither to give these men the advantage against
them which they were seeking, nor to give away the cause

1658.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 157
of Truth by the least compliance with their superstitions.
Indeed they often testified boldly against the bigotry so
prevalent in that popish place. The Consul was at length
bribed to violate the rights of hospitality and the duty of
his official station ; and treacherously withdrew his protec
tion so far as to allow their being taken by the officers of
the Inquisition. By the lord inquisitor they were required
to change their religion ; but steadfastly refusing, they were
confined in a close, dark room, with only two little holes
for light and air, and so extremely hot, that it seemed as
if the intention was to stifle them to death.
They were brought under examination again and again,
and continually beset with the impertinencies of monks and
priests, to terrify or beguile them into conformity to their su
perstitions. But all their efforts were ineffectual ; these inno
cent women being too well established in that pure religion
whose efficacy they had experienced, to be perverted there
from by flattery, or terrified by threats, though daily in
danger of their lives, and under dismal apprehensions of
being led to the stake. It seemed, however, as if the inten
tion of their keepers was rather to put them out of the way
quietly, than to execute them in a public manner. They
were put into a room so exceedingly hot and suffocating,
that it was thought they could not long survive. They
were often compelled to rise from their bed, and lie down
at the chink of the door, to draw a breath of air. Their
skin became parched, their hair fell off, and they frequently
fainted away. They now wrote a remonstrance to the in
quisitor, pleading their innocence, and complaining of the
hardships to which they were subjected ; but he was so of
fended at it, that he ordered their ink-horns to be taken
from them. He also gave orders for them to be separated,
which added much to their grief, especially as Catharine's
sickness increased greatly, so that she was broken out in
sores from head to foot ; and the doctor being sent for,
14

158 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1659.
declared that they must have air, or they would die. The
inquisitor hereupon ordered the doors to be opened for six
hours in the day. Ten weeks after this, they were sepa
rated, and told that they should never see each other more ;
the friars hoping that by attacking them separately, they
might be more able to prevail upon them. But in this they
were disappointed, the Lord himself being their companion,
enduing them with strength to resist all the attempts of
their enemies, and even enabling them to speak boldly at
various times in His name, to those who came to see them.
Some considerable repairs to the inquisition were going on,
which occupied about a year and a half, and often drew to
the place many workmen and some of the persons in au
thority in the island, to whom these women had opportunities
of declaring the Truth as it is in Jesus. But the friars
were indefatigable in their endeavors, both by persuasion
and threats, to induce them to change their religion. Some
of their language was exceedingly disgraceful to men pro
fessing religion, abounding as it did, in expressions border
ing on blasphemy, and threats that these poor defenceless
women should be covered over in a pile of chains, that they
should be given to the devil, that they should never come
out of the prison alive, that they should be burnt to death,
or, that as Ananias and Sapphira were struck down dead
by the word of the Lord through the apostles, so the friars
would do to them. But their meek, yet firm reply was, that
their persecutors might do what they would ; they did not
fear ; that if they suffered, they were the Lord's, and trusted
in Him ; that they were settled and grounded in the Truth,
and the more they persecuted them, the stronger they grew.
Sometimes they spoke so effectually to those who came to
them, that they could not contradict them, but were struck
with conviction. And Catharine's prison being at one time
so near the street that she could be heard by the passers-by,
she frequently found it her duty to call them to repentance,

1660.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 159
and direct them to the Light of Christ, which would lead
them from all sinful ways and worships, to serve and wor
ship God in spirit and in truth. Some would stay to listen
as long as they dared, for the people were narrowly watched.
Others, however, were hardened in wickedness, and mali
ciously threw stones at her window, as they passed to their
place of worship.
Several efforts were made by various persons to obtain
their release. The treacherous consul, who had been miser
able ever since their imprisonment, visited them, and made
an ineffectual application to the inquisitor on their behalf,
offering to return the money by which the friars had bribed
him to allow of their arrest. But he died before any thing
effectual was done towards their deliverance. Two English
men after this endeavored, but to no purpose, to accomplish
the same object. One Francis Stuart also, a sea-captain,
took great pains to obtain their liberty ; but the inquisitor
professed inability to grant it, without an order from the
Pope. They were told that one impediment to their freedom
was their having preached to the people while there: to
which they replied, that they had testified to the truth, which
they were willing to maintain with their blood. This Cap
tain Stuart was, however, admitted to see them, and told
them with tears what he had done on their behalf, but in
vain. He declared that if they could be set free, he would
gladly give them a passage, and provide for them in his
ship ; and he offered them money. This they declined, but
made sincere acknowledgments for his great kindness, and
prayed for his preservation unto everlasting life.
After Stuart was gone, they met with worse usage than
before ; the taking away of their lives was again conspired,
and their doors were shut up for many weeks. But they
were still kept in great resignation, not daring even to
beseech the Almighty for their own deliverance, until it
should be His will.

160 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1662.
They had now been confined nearly three years. About
the beginning of the jTear 1662, Daniel Baker, a friend, who
had come from England to Leghorn with John Stubbs, and
had thence travelled to Smyrna, preaching the gospel to
Papists, Jews and Mahometans, came back by Malta, in
sympathy with these afflicted women, and demanded their
liberty of the inquisitor. His repeated solicitations, how
ever, were ineffectual ; but remaining nearly a month on the
island, he frequently found means to visit the prisoners, at
the hazard of his life ; being narrowly watched, and daily
threatened with the inquisition. He administered to them
spiritual consolation, assuring them that the church of God
owned their testimony for His cause, " and they were a sweet
savor unto the Lord and His people." And though they
could only commune with him through the iron gratings of
their windows, yet even this imperfect intercourse with one
of their own countrymen, and a brother in the same faith,
was a source of great refreshment to them in their long and
hard imprisonment.
They were still repeatedly plied with attempts by the
friars to induce them to change their religion. Being
promised a release if they would become "Catholics," they
replied, " that they were already true Catholics " — the term
properly signifying members of the universal church of
Christ. They were told also, that if they would but kiss the
cross, they should have their liberty : but conscious that this
act, small in itself, would be sanctioning the idolatry and
bigotry against which they had so long borne their testimony,
they steadfastly refused to purchase their liberty or lives by
such an act.
At length George Fox and Gilbert Latey found means to
procure their liberation. They applied to Lord D'Aubigny,
an English papist, for his friendly interposition by writing
to the magistrates of Malta ; and his mediation was so suc
cessful, that Catharine and Sarah were soon released, after

1662.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 161
an imprisonment of nearly four years. After eleven weeks
spent again at the British consulate, waiting for a vessel,
they embarked for Leghorn, and thence passed to Tangier,
at that time besieged by the Moors ; notwithstanding which
they entered the town, and had many opportunities of
exhorting the people to amendment of life. They also
visited the governor, who courteously received them, took
their admonition in good part, and would have given them
money. The Portuguese and Irish papists here were ready
to do them mischief; but the governor threatened any of the
garrison who should abuse or insult them, with severe
punishment. And such was the favorable opinion which
their integrity procured for them, that when they took ship
from Tangier for England, several embarked with them, in
preference to going in another vessel, believing that on
account of these pious women, they should have a safer
passage. At length they arrived at home in safety, magni
fying the divine mercy, manifested in their wonderful
deliverance. In the early part of this year, John Philly and William
Moore^ being in Germany with some other Friends, felt a
concern to proceed into Hungary, and visit the Hortesche
brethren, a kind of Baptists, who refused to swear or fight,
and who lived by hundreds together in families, having
community of goods. They accordingly proceeded to the
nearest body of these people, residing near Cushart, about a
day's journey from Presburg, and were hospitably enter
tained. Here they dispersed some religious books, and had
favorable opportunities for gospel labor among them,
endeavoring to promote their growth in pure Christianity.
They were by these people informed of another of their com
munities, settled three hundred miles further, at Pattock, in
Upper Hungary. They therefore continued their journey
towards Comora, on an island in the Danube, having their
religious books with them. Here they were seized by the
14*

162 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1662.
garrison, and carried before an inquisitor, who informed
William, that the bringing of their books into the country
was a capital crime, and would cost him his life ; asking
them if they did not know that " Catholics " had laws to
burn and torment heretics, and any who carried such books.
For more than a week, they were beset with attempts to
induce them to profess the Popish religion, and threatened
with the rack : which threats at length were put in execution.
The inquisitor came to William, and told him that he was
to be subjected to the rack, and afterwards was to lose his
head. It seems that they professed to consider these Friends
as spies, in order to justify in some degree the cruelties they
designed to inflict upon them. It was in vain that William
pleaded his innocence ; he was put to the rack, whereby his
thumbs were exceedingly pinched by iron screws, his arm
dislocated, and his back and many of his joints twisted and
bent by tight cords ; his chin was drawn close to his breast,
and his mouth and throat so distorted, that he was almost
choked. Then John was brought, who not seeing his com
panion, supposed that he had been hung on a gallows which
was in the place : he also was put to the torture in the midst
of his protestations of innocence. They were now told, that
it would soon be determined by what mode they should lose
their lives. The inquisitor required William to put in
writing the principal tenets of his religion, and intercepted
a letter which they wrote to the governor remonstrating
against these cruelties. After about sixteen weeks' imprison
ment, they were conveyed in chains to General Nadasti;
and passing under a sort of examination before him and
several other lords of that country, they were condemned to
be burned, if they did not submit to embrace the Popish
religion. Under this dismal sentence John Philly was
divinely supported, and encouraged his companion, in a full
persuasion that the power of the Almighty would still open
a way for the preservation of their lives, by dividing the

1662.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 163
counsels of their persecutors ; which proved to be the case.
They were now sent to a place near Vienna, where they
were searched by the priests, their books and papers taken
away, and they were threatened with most cruel tortures.
Manacles were locked on their wrists, so tight as to make
them cry out with pain, and they were thrust into a narrow
hole along with some Turkish prisoners, and not allowed
straw, or scarcely room to lie down. William Moore became
much discouraged at their disconsolate situation, being again
threatened to be burned to death ; and crying to the Almighty
for help, he was encouraged, by means of a dream, to believe
the Lord would provide for their safety. The very same
day, a message came from a certain earl in authority there,
expressing his displeasure at these rigorous proceedings of
the priests.
It was now resolved by these men to separate the two
Friends, and William was violently and clandestinely
carried off in a sled over the snow, to a convent several
miles distant in a wilderness, where he was laid in chains,
and the next day blindfolded and put into a deep dungeon ;
a Jew there being threatened with death if he gave any
intelligence of him. Here he was kept four days and
nights, in severe frosty weather, with nothing to subsist
upon but bread and water ; and he was apprehensive that
their intention was privately to murder him in this secret
place. After about twelve days' imprisonment, they renewed
their attempts to convert him to the Romish religion ; but
he still remaining inflexibly firm to that faith, the divine
efficacy of which he had experienced, they again had re
course to menaces, threatening at one time to cut out his
tongue, and at another, to flay him alive, if he would
not turn papist.
There was a man named Adam Bien, a barber to the
above-mentioned earl, who at the place of their confinement,

164 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1662.
near Vienna, had found means sometimes to have access to
them, and had been reached by their pious discourse, and
in good degree convinced of the truth of their principles.
This man commiserated much their suffering condition, and
exerted himself indefatigably to obtain their release. By
some means he found out the place of William's detention,
notwithstanding the secrecy maintained by the priests, and
supplied him with some refreshments. The earl being
seized with sickness, from which his recovery was doubtful,
Adam, who had influence with this nobleman, seized this
opportunity of renewing his solicitations in their favor, and
finally succeeded in obtaining an order for their release.
They were then set at liberty, and though turned adrift
without any money, which had all been taken away from
them, and in a country infested with war, yet they were
favored to arrive in safety among their friends.

CHAPTER XVI.
EDWARD BURROUGH AND RICHARD HUBBERTHORN, BEING
VIOLENTLY SEIZED AT THE BULL-AND-MOUTH MEETING,
DIE IN PRISON.
DURING the year 1662, died Edward Burrough, a
witness unto death for the cause of a good conscience
toward God. We have seen by what process of mental
experience and refinement he was brought to a knowledge
of the Truth as it is in Jesus, and how, about the eighteenth
year of his age, his Divine Master saw fit to make use of
him to sound the glad tidings of the Gospel to his fellow-
men. His ministry was powerful and reaching, his doctrine

1662.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 165
sound, and his language eloquent; having learned in the
best school, that of Christ himself, and been prepared for
the ministry by the immediate teachings of the Spirit of
Truth, gradually leading unto the living experience of
holiness, and clothing him with ardent desires for the sal
vation of mankind.
His own example gave efficacy to his ministry. He lived
as he advised others to live, in the fear of his Maker, and
in a sense of His omnipresence. His natural disposition
was bold and manly, tempered with innocence ; his conver
sation affable and instructive, circumscribed by great
watchfulness over himself. His Christian courage in the
fulfilment of his duty was remarkable, an instance of which
we may here mention.
On one of his frequent visits to London, he passed by a
place, where a number of rude muscular men were exhibit
ing feats of wrestling, before a multitude of idle people,
who stood gazing at them outside a ring. He saw how one
strong and dexterous fellow had already thrown three others,
and was waiting for a fourth champion, if any durst venture
to enter the lists. At length, none being bold enough to
try, Edward Burrough stepped within the ring ; and looking
upon the wrestler with a serious countenance, the man was
not a little surprised, instead of an airy antagonist, to meet
with a grave and awful young man. All stood amazed at
the sight, wondering what would be the issue of this con
test. But it was quite another fight that Edward aimed at.
He began very seriously to speak to the by-standers, and
that with such a heart-piercing power, that he was heard by
this mixed and rude multitude with no less attention than
admiration. His speech tended to turn them from darkness
to light, and from the power of Satan unto God. To effect
this, he labored with convincing power, showing how God
had not left himself without a witness, but had graciously
enlightened every man with the light of Christ. Thus

166 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1662.
zealously he preached ; and though many might look on
this as a novelty, yet it was of such effect, that some were
convinced of the truth.
He travelled in many parts of England, Ireland, Scotland
and Flanders, in the exercise of his ministerial gift, meet
ing with repeated sufferings and imprisonments. But his
principal field of labor was London and its neighborhood,
where his ministry was effectual to the conversion of many.
His gospel solicitude for the inhabitants of that city was so
warm, that when persecution grew hot, he said to his bosom
friend, Francis Hr™m&"~S' I can freely go to that city, and
lay down my life/JJr'atestimbEy to that truth, which I have
declared through the Spirit and power of God." And
being this year on a visit to Friends in Bristol, in taking
leave of them, he said " he did not know that he should see
their faces any more;" and therefore exhorted them to
faithfulness ; adding to some, " I am now going up to Lon
don again, to lay down my life for the Gospel, and suffer
among Friends in that place."
About that time the rage of persecution was such, that it
was estimated there were five hundred Friends in prison at
one time in London alone ; and the Friends who met for
divine worship at the " Bull-and-Mouth " meeting, near the
centre of the metropolis, were particularly exposed to the
merciless violence of the magistrates and soldiery. The
soldiers came several successive First-days, with muskets,
lighted matches, pikes, and halberts, conducted by an
officer, with a drawn sword in one hand, and a cane in the
other. They usually entered with violent rushing and
uproar, to terrify the assembly, commanding the people to
be gone ; and then shamefully attacked both men and
women with canes and clubs, threatening to fire at them,
and even striking them with swords, and the butt-ends of
their muskets, in such a manner that some fainted away,
and others survived their injuries but a short time.

1662.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 167
On one occasion, when the meeting was near breaking
up, Major-general Richard Brown entered the house with a
party of men with drawn swords, in a manner rude and
terrifying beyond expression ; and ordering the doors to be
made fast, they fell upon the innocent assembly, engaged in
the most solemn act of worshipping their Maker ; and with
out regard to age or sex, dealt such unmerciful and unmanly
blows on men and women with their swords and cudgels,
cutting, bruising, and levelling those before them, as bore
an appearance of open hostility beyond what had ever been
seen in a time of peace. Six or eight together being
knocked down, were dragged out and laid in the gutters
senseless, and apparently half dead, with the wounds and
bruises they had received. Their blood flowed visibly in
the street, so that the passers-by, struck with compassion
for this unoffending people, cried, "Shame" upon the per
petrators, and for their compassionate expressions obtained
also their share of similar abuse. Many of these Friends
were so much injured, as to keep their beds for a consider
able time, and one died of the wounds he there received.
Thomas Ellwood was among those thus seized on one of
these occasions, along with many more Friends; and the
prisons in London were literally thronged with this people
for several months.
Not long after Edward Burrough's arrival in London this
year, he attended this meeting ; and while he was preaching
the gospel, he was violently pulled down by soldiers, and
committed, with many others, to Newgate prison. Here,
being thrust into crowded rooms, among the vilest felons,
besides the great annoyance to which, from the filthy charac
ter of these criminals, and the dirty state of the prison,
Friends were subjected, they were also witnesses of such vile
and wicked conduct and conversation, as brought grief and
sorrow on their souls. Having lain here some weeks, Edward
was brought to trial at the Old Bailey, fined by the court

168 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1662.
twenty marks, without authority of any law, and condemned
to lie in prison till he should pay the fine. As the deed for
which he and his brethren were condemned, viz., meeting
for the worship of God, was in their estimation no crime, but
an act of indispensable duty to their Maker and Redeemer ;
and as a voluntary and active compliance with the penalty
would have been a tacit confession of guilt, a giving away
of the cause, and a balking of their testimony to the Truth ;
they durst not, for conscience' sake, pay the fine ; so that this
sentence amounted to perpetual imprisonment, unless released
by the king.
Being thus immured in prison with six or seven score of
his Friends, and so many crowded into one room as to make
it even suffocating, many of them grew sick and died ; of
which number he was one. A special order from the king
was sent to the sheriffs for his release and that of some
others ; but so implacable was the malice of some of the city
magistrates, that they found means to evade the execution
of this order. Edward being consequently still detained in
prison, his disease gained upon him, and threatened approach
ing dissolution. But this holy man being raised above the
fear of death, supported by the consolatory review of a life
spent in the service of his Creator, and comforted by a con
sciousness of no wilful omission of duty, and an inward sense
of freedom from the power and guilt of sin, through the
effectual operation and atonement of Him who came to put
an end to sin and take away its guilt, he made the following
solemn and affecting appeal : " I have had the testimony of
the Lord's love unto me from my youth ; and my heart, 0
Lord, hath been given up to do thy will. I have preached
the gospel freely in this city, and have often given up my
life for the Gospel's sake. And now, O Lord, rip open my
heart, and see if it be not right before thee ! " Again he
said : " There is no iniquity lies at my door ; but the pre
sence of the Lord is with me, and His life, I feel, justifies

1662.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 169
me." His friends about him he exhorted " to live in love
and peace, and love one another:" and praying for his
enemies and persecutors, he said, "Lord, forgive Richard
Brown, if he may be forgiven" — who was the chief agent
of the persecution. Being sensible that his dissolution drew
near, he thus memorably expressed his faith : " Though this
body of clay must turn to dust, yet I have a testimony that
I have served God faithfully in my generation ; and that
spirit that hath lived and acted and ruled in me, shall yet
break forth in thousands." The morning before his depart
ure, he said, " Now my soul and spirit is centred into its
own being with God, and this form of person must return
whence it was taken ; " and shortly afterwards he expired,
having been a zealous preacher of righteousness about ten
years, though only in the twenty-eighth year of his age.
Richard Hubberthorn was another of those who, violently
dragged away from the meeting at the " Bull-and-Mouth,"
finished their earthly course this year in prison, for the
testimony of a pure conscience. He had been a soldier in
the army of the commonwealth, but early joined George
Fox in the better warfare against sin and spiritual darkness ;
and receiving ability to direct others in the sure way to the
kingdom of Heaven, became one of the first and most
eminent ministers of the society of Friends. But after many
travels and deep sufferings for the cause of truth, being
seized this year at the aforesaid meeting, he was carried
before that implacable magistrate, Richard Brown; who
giving vent to his passion as usual, pulled this inoffensive
man down by the hat, with such fury that he brought his
head almost to the ground, and then committed him to the
noisome prison of Newgate.
His infirm constitution was so affected with the throng
and vitiated air of this doleful place, that he presently grew
sick, and after about two months imprisonment was taken
away by death. His end exhibited the happy result of a
15

170 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1662.
life spent in righteousness and the pursuit of peace ; being
enabled in his last moments to look forward, in full assurance
of faith, to the near approach of future happiness. To some
of his friends he expressed, that " he knew the ground of his
salvation, and was satisfied for ever of his peace with the
Lord ; " and at another time, he said : " That faith which
hath wrought my salvation, I well know, and have grounded
satisfaction in it." The greatest part of the time of his sick
ness he passed in inward retirement and meditation, in great
resignation and stillness ; and towards his close he requested
his friends not to hold him, for the body was too strait for
him, and he was to be lifted up on high, far above all mortal
or corporeal restraints. And thus, in a frame of mind pre
pared for an entrance into the kingdom of glory, he finished
his earthly course, and doubtless obtained that eternal reward
laid up for those who are faithful unto death.

CHAPTER XVII.
THE SUFFERINGS OF ELIZABETH HOOTON AND OTHERS IN
NEW ENGLAND.
BEFORE passing to other matters, we may revert for a
short time to a continuance, this year and the next, of
the dismal scenes of persecution, which still disgraced the
profession of Christianity in New England.
Among the companions in prison of Wenlock Christison,
before alluded to, were Elizabeth Hooton, the first female
minister among Friends, and Joan Brocksup, each about
sixty years of age; who on being released from captivity
were driven into the wilderness, and left there exposed to

1662.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 171
the wild beasts of the forest, without provisions, to wander
in great danger through places uninhabited and scarcely
passable, until at length they came to Rhode Island. Thence
they went to Barbadoes ; and still feeling bound to testify in
New England against the spirit of persecution prevalent
there, they returned to that colony. On coming to Boston,
however, they were presently apprehended, and sent away tc
Virginia, whence Elizabeth Hooton returned to England.
After remaining a short time in her native country, she
found herself not yet clear, without making a third attempt
to deliver the message of her Lord and Master. Accord
ingly, preparing for her departure, she made application to
the King, and obtained from him a license to settle in any
of the British colonies. She and her daughter set sail for
Boston; and immediately on their arrival the magistrates
would have fined the master of the vessel one hundred
pounds for bringing her, but for the king's license which she
carried with her. This instrument nevertheless did not
prevent them from indulging their malicious dispositions
against this devoted woman ; for at Dover she was set in the
stocks, and kept four days in prison in cold weather. At
Cambridge she was imprisoned, two days and nights, in a
close stinking dungeon, without anything to sit or lie down
upon, and without so much as bread and water to sustain
her. And when a friend in sympathy brought her a little
milk, to prevent her from perishing under their hands, he
was arbitrarily fined five pounds and sent to prison.
Elizabeth was then whipped through Cambridge, Water-
town and Dedham, with a three-corded whip having three
knots at the end ; and in this mangled condition was carried
on horseback many miles into the wilderness, in frosty
weather, and there left at the hazard of her life, exposed to
wild beasts, which at that time abounded in the forests.
Her persecutors seem to have even expected that she would
perish by this exposure, as they expressed their hopes that

172 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1662.
" they should never see her any more." But the Lord in
mercy preserved his servant safe through the dismal forests
and deep waters which she had to cross, to a place called
Rehoboth, where she arrived the next day. Thence she
made her way to Rhode Island, praising and magnifying the
Most High, whose supporting hand had been mercifully
displayed for her preservation.
But her sufferings had not yet satiated the malice of a
persecuting magistracy, backed by the vindictive priests.
As they had sent her away without her clothing, she returned,
accompanied by her daughter, to a place near Cambridge,
in order to obtain her property. But as they were coming
back towards Rhode Island, they were apprehended, along
with Sarah Coleman, an ancient woman who had fallen in
company with them in the woods ; and all three were taken
back to Cambridge, abused by the scholars there, and then
whipped and committed to the house of correction. No just
cause was assigned for this cruel treatment of inoffensive
women, who were going about their lawful occasions. They
were sent out of the colony, being whipped in three towns
on their way to Rhode Island. Elizabeth after this return
ing to Boston to preach repentance to the inhabitants, was
again sent to the house of correction, whipped at the whip
ping-post, and afterwards at Roxbury and Dedham at a
cart's tail, taken as before in a mangled condition into the
wilderness, and left there in the cold weather, to make her
way, twenty miles, back to Rhode Island. And soon after,
returning to Boston once more, she was again imprisoned,
whipped from the prison-door to the end of the town, and
sent away with an order to whip her from town to town, and
a threat that " if ever she came thither again, they would
either put her to death or brand her on the shoulder." Thus
was this devoted woman, who was of reputable character and
substance, and perfectly peaceable and inoffensive, for her
faithful endeavors to perform her gospel mission, cruelly

1662.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 173
persecuted with three imprisonments, nine severe whippings,
and two perilous exposures in the wilderness to perish by
wild beasts, or by cold and starvation. But though her
afflictions thus abounded, yet her inward consolations did
much more abundantly flow ; under the precious enjoyment
of which, she declared her willingness to endure much more,
for the propagation of righteousness, and for her love for the
souls of her fellow-creatures.
During this same year, three other women, Mary Tom
kins, Alice Ambrose, and Anne Coleman, went into the
neighborhood of Piscataqua River, to visit their friends in
gospel love, and endeavor to confirm them in the truth.
Soon after their arrival, one Rayner, a priest of Dover,
exciting the magistrates to their usual persecuting measures,
they were seized, condemned to be fastened to a cart's tail,
and thus dragged through the country, and whipped in all
the towns they passed through, until they should be out of
the limits of that government. This order was cruelly
executed at Dover, while the priest stood by and laughed at
these innocent women's tortures. Being reproved for this
cruel levity, by two by-standers, the magistrates caused them
both to be placed in the stocks. The women were again
whipped at Hampden and Salisbury; but afterwards a
person to whom they were intrusted, commiserating their
case, at his own risk set them at liberty, and thus saved
them from the infliction of similar cruelty in several other
townships through which they would have had to pass.
After a little time, not feeling released from their religious
engagement, they returned to Dover ; and being met together
with other Friends on the First-day of the week, Alice Am
brose knelt in prayer to God. Whilst she was occupied in
this most solemn engagement, two constables entered the
meeting, and seizing her each by an arm, inhumanly forced
her out of doors, and dragged her with her face downwards,
ovet the snow, which was knee-deep, and over large stumps
15*

174 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1662.
and logs, for nearly a mile. They then returned for Mary
Tomkins, and treated her in the same barbarous manner.
The next morning, which was excessively cold, they forced
them into a canoe, together with their companion Anne
Coleman, and carried them to the mouth of the harbor,
threatening that they would now so dispose of them, that
they would be troubled with them no more. And because
these poor defenceless women were not willing to go, they
forced them down a very steep place in the snow, dragging
Mary Tomkins again over stumps of trees to the water side,
whereby being much bruised, she fainted under their hands.
Alice Ambrose they pulled into the water, and kept her
swimming by the canoe, in great danger of drowning or of
being frozen to death. It seems indeed as if their intent was
nothing short of taking away the lives of their victims ; in
which however they were frustrated by a storm, which drove
them back to the house where they had kept these poor
women all the previous night. Here they detained them
till near midnight, and then turned them out of doors in the
frost and snow, although Alice's clothes were frozen as hard
as boards. The barbarity exercised against these innocent
women was such, that in all probability they must have
perished, had not a merciful Providence interfered for their
preservation. The next year, Anne Coleman was again apprehended,
and with several other Friends, cruelly whipped through
Salem, Boston and Dedham ; and the severity of the whip
ping was such — the thongs of the whip wrapping around
her body and the knots tearing her breast — that it was
thought her life must fall a sacrifice to the malice of her
persecutors. Edward Wharton, also, a respectable inhabitant of Salem,
but who bore the hated name of a Quaker, was a particular
mark for the malice of these unrelenting men. Not being
able, after many cruel inflictions, to induce him to promise

1662.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 175
to come no more to the religfbus meetings of his Friends at
Boston, he was, by order of Governor Endicot, led to the
market place, bound to the wheels of a great gun, and bar
barously whipped with thirty stripes to such a degree, that
it was testified that peas might lie in the holes made in his
flesh by the knots of the whip. His body was much swollen
and black from his waist upwards. In this sad condition
they led him about the country, as if to expose him to the
people as a spectacle, and terrify them with the notion of
their unlimited power.
The eyes of the people however began to be opened, to
see the enormity of these rigorous measures exercised
against an unoffending portion of their fellow-citizens ; and
Governor Endicot being taken away by death, and several
of his coadjutors also removed, the magistrates became
more cautious of provoking public sentiment by continued
persecutions. Through all the severities which had been
exercised, the Society of Friends had held on their way,
trusting in the Lord their preserver, and had continued to
spread over the colony, though, trodden under foot of men.

CHAPTER XVIII.
THE EXTRAVAGANCIES OF JOHN PERROT.
THE Society of Friends was steadily pursuing its path,
and increasing in numbers, notwithstanding the perse
cutions to which its members were everywhere subjected.
But it was not to be expected that every individual who
was found within its precincts should have been rightly pre-

176 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1662.
pared for the station which %e might have assumed. It
would have been indeed remarkable, if in the multitude of
those who went forth in that day of zeal, in the service of
the ministry, there had not been instances of men who had
taken upon them (perhaps mistakenly) the office of a gos
pel minister, without waiting for the preparation and the
call. And it would have been still more surprising if such
forward spirits had proved firm in the day of outward trial,
or of inward fascinations and snares of the enemy.
John Perrot was one who at this time caused great dis
tress and trouble to the faithful members of the Society,
from giving way to self-importance and extravagant notions.
He had joined the Society early, and had probably too soon
taken upon himself the ministerial office. He travelled
considerably, and about the year 1660 conceived that he
must go to Rome to convert the Pope. He obtained the
company of John Love, and travelled as far as Leghorn ;
where they were both taken up and examined by the inqui
sition. But the answers they gave were so satisfactory that
they were soon dismissed. Thence they proceeded to Ven
ice, and afterwards to Rome, where they were soon again
apprehended ; John Love being put into the inquisition, and
John Perrot being shut up in a madhouse. The former,
who is supposed to have been a sincere man, died in prison,
not without suspicion of being murdered there ; for though
the officers of the inquisition gave out that he had fasted to
death, some nuns are said to have acknowledged that he
was privately dispatched in the night, for testifying against
their idolatry. It is clear that John Perrot was at this time
exceedingly puffed up with spiritual pride ; for he wrote,
whilst in prison, some epistles to be printed in England, in
so affected a style as bespoke him almost bewildered in his
mind; signing only his first name, John, and otherwise mak
ing very extravagant assumptions, apparently in imitation
of the manner of writing of the great apostle of Patmos.

1662.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 177
At length, through the solicitation of Friends to some
persons of influence there, he was released from confine
ment, and returned to England. And though he had come
away without having accomplished the object of his mission,
or so far as appears, having even seen the Pope, yet the
exaggerated report of his sufferings abroad, and a great
appearance of sanctity, gained him a sort of compassionate
affection and esteem with weak minds ; and his self-impor
tance increased to such a degree, that he thought himself
further enlightened than George Fox and the rest of his
friends ; and as an evidence of it, he maintained that the
custom of putting off their hats in joining in public prayer,
was only a piece of formality, and ought not to be practised.
The next extravagance he adopted, was to let his beard
grow, in which he was followed by several of his partisans.
George Fox and the principal body of Friends, foreseeing
the danger of the minds of the members being drawn off
from attention to the necessary work of inward sanctifica
tion, into contention about outward observances of little or
no importance, exerted their endeavors to prevent the
spreading of the defection. This, however, went on for
some years, till Perrot manifested more clearly, by the in
stability and enormity of his conduct, the error of his spirit
and the depravity of his heart. He went to America, and
was there led into fleshly liberties, fantastically putting on
gaudy apparel, and • wearing a sword ; and under the pre
tence of being above forms, went so far at length as to
reckon meeting for divine worship a form, and by his ex
ample and doctrine led many to forsake the assembling of
themselves together. And after a time, having obtained
some post under the government, he who had before pro
fessed that Christ had forbidden all swearing, is said to
have rendered himself conspicuous, as a most rigid exactor
of oaths.
Perrot's followers, as observed above, were not without

178 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [16f32.
the faithful admonitions and warnings of their brethren.
George Fox, ever alive to the welfare of the flock, felt it
his duty to appoint a meeting in London with those who
had been seduced into this separation, and also addressed
them more than once by letter, endeavoring to restore them
to a sound understanding, and to unity with the body ; and
through the divine blessing attending the labors of love
extended by him and his friends, most of these people in
England were at length recovered, acknowledged their
error, and returned into the unity of the Society.
In America, the wild notions which Perrot had sown,
continued in some places, for several years, to bear bitter
fruit. John Burnyeat, in 1665, travelling in Virginia,
found many who had been led astray into these fanciful
notions. They had almost forsaken the practice of meeting
for divine worship, scarcely assembling together once a
year. Of course they lost ground in religion, which was
manifested by a general backsliding. They had laid aside
the plainness of their profession in dress and language, and
were become loose and light in their conduct. The offence
of the cross had ceased, and the power of godliness, as well
as the form, was lost. So that John Burnyeat found it
difficult to get a meeting with them. But he was not a man
whose zeal was easily discouraged. When he saw their re
luctance to grant him a public meeting, he did not leave
them under their delusion, but sought private opportunities
with them, to convince them of their mistakes, and to vin
dicate the principles and practice of the Society, in dili
gently meeting to wait together upon God, and endeavoring
to walk before Him in all orderly conversation and sobriety,
and to fulfil all their social and moral duties among man
kind. By perseverance in repeated visits and conferences
of this kind, he at length obtained a meeting with them ;
which being favored with the overshadowing of divine
power, was very conducive to open the understandings of

1665.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 179
several to perceive their error, and to the revival of more
regard to their religious duties. And by the continuance
of his gospel labors, and the renewed convictions of the
Spirit of Truth in their hearts, many came in time to see
through the wiles of the enemy, and to be again serviceable
in the Society. Some years afterwards, returning to Vir
ginia, he found an open door for his labors, and was suc
cessful in promoting among them the establishment of
meetings for discipline, for the further help of those who
had not yet been entirely reclaimed.
After this, travelling in New England, at Salem he met
with the devastating effects of the same spirit. But patiently
laboring among them, several had their consciences so
awakened, as to let them also see their mistake, condemn
it, and return into unity with the body.

CHAPTER XIX.
RISE OF THE SOCIETY IN SCOTLAND.
HAVING traced the origin of the people called Qua
kers in England, and noticed the foothold which they
had now obtained on the continent of America and some
of the West India islands, we may next turn our attention
to the progress of pure, evangelical truth in Scotland.
There were scattered in various parts of that country,
about the middle of the seventeenth century, pious individ
uals, who, weary and heavy-laden under a sense of their
own manifold shortcomings, believed there was to be known
a more purely spiritual way of worship and of life and
conduct, than that to which they, or any with whose pro-

180 HISTOEICAL MEMOIES OF [1654-9.
fession they were acquainted, had attained. Being greatly
burdened with the formality, superstition, and will-worship
prevalent around them, under which the public preachers
generally detained their hearers, these serious inquirers had
separated from the several congregations of the people;
and at length some of them began to meet together by
themselves, waiting upon God in a holy silence and deep
humility of soul, for ability to draw near to him in true
spiritual worship. They were thus at times made sensible
of the quickening virtue, power, and life of the Holy Spirit,
enabling some of them to speak forth the praises of the Al
mighty, and from an inward experience of His goodness, to
extend instrumentally a hand of help to others.
Such religious meetings appear to have been held at
Drumbowy and Heads, in the south of Scotland, as early
as the year 1653; and the first preachers thus raised up
among them were William Osborne, a colonel in the army,
Richard Rae and Alexander Hamilton. These meetings
had been established a full year, before any in actual con
nection with Friends found them out and visited them.
The feet of several gospel messengers were, however, soon
turned in this direction, as Christopher Fell, George Wilson,
John Grave, George Atkinson, Sarah Cheevers, and Cath
arine Evans. In 1654, Myles Halhead, and James Lancaster,
and in 1655, William Caton, and John Stubbs, travelled
into Scotland ; and George Fox was at Edinburgh in 1657.
James Nayler is supposed to have preached in some parts
of Scotland as early as 1651 ; but he does not appear to
have fallen in with the above-mentioned little flock. John
Burnyeat was led to travel as far north as Aberdeen, in
1658, and met with some meetings of Friends ; and in 1659,
Stephen Crisp, of Essex, who had then recently come forth
in the ministry, found it laid upon him by his Divine
Master, " to go and bear witness to His name in Scotland,
that high professing nation." "Oh!" says he, "howl

1662.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 181
would have pleaded my own inability, the care of my family,
my service in that particular meeting, and many more things ;
and all, that I might have been excused from this one
thing. But after many reasonings, days and weeks by my
self, I thought it best to speak of it to some of the faithful
elders and ministers of the everlasting gospel, not knowing
but they might discourage me ; but they laid it upon me to
be faithful. The winter drew nigh, and something [in my
mind] would have deferred it till next summer ; but the
Lord showed me it was not to be my time, but his time.
Then, I would have gone by sea ; but the Lord withstood
me, and showed me it must not be my way, but his way ;
and if I would be obedient, he would be with me and pros
per my journey ; otherwise his hand would strike me. So I
gave up all, and with cheerfulness obeyed, went forth, and
visited the churches of Christ. I quickly perceived that
the Lord was with me; — my journey became joyful; — in
every place, my testimony was owned, and divers were con
vinced of the everlasting Truth. I got into Scotland in
the Ninth month, and travelled to and fro that winter, on
foot, with cheerfulness — and in about five or six months
time, was, by the good hand of God, brought home to my
wife, and children, and relations ; in all my journey having
been sweetly accompanied with the presence of the Lord ;
and his power often filled my earthen vessel, and made my
cup to overflow. Praises forever to his name! saith my
soul." The gospel messages of these and other zealous ministers,
reached the consciences of many who heard them ; yet
with regard to Aberdeen and the district thereabouts, no
open espousal of the principles of Friends took place, until
William Dewsbury was drawn, towards the end of the year
1662, in love to these prepared and panting souls, to pro
claim among them " the acceptable year of the Lord," even
deliverance from the bondage of corruption, by the law of
16

182 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1663.
the spirit of life in Christ Jesus. Thus was the remarkable
work of convincement — which had been secretly going on
in some hearts for several years, through many deep con
flicts of spirit, — helped forward to such a point, that they
were made willing to take up the daily cross, though in
various respects as bitter as death, and to follow the guid
ance of Christ by his Spirit within them, whithersoever he
should be pleased . to lead. Alexander Jaffray, formerly
chief magistrate of the city of Aberdeen, and one of the
foremost in this little but noble band, declared that when
first he heard that God had raised up a people in England,
directing all to His pure light, Spirit, and grace in their
own hearts, as the most sure Teacher and Leader into all
truth, religion, and worship, his very heart did leap within
him for joy.
George Gray, a poor weaver, but a man of very good re
pute for sincerity and the correctness of his life, was
another of the early instruments in gathering the church
(n the neighborhood of Aberdeen. He received from his
Divine Master a gift in the ministry of the gospel ; and
though poor as to this world, and barely acquainted with
the very rudiments of learning, the word of God's wisdom
dwelt richly in him, and his understanding became much
enlarged in heavenly experience. And being, through
watchfulness, preserved and directed in the exercise of his
ministerial gift, he was made instrumental to the edification
and great refreshment of the Lord's heritage. Many indeed
confessed their admiration at the excellent matter, utterance
and connection observed in the preaching of one so devoid
of human learning, and yet so thoroughly furnished, in aU
respects, unto his holy calling. Thus was clearly held up
to view, what it is that constitutes the best adorning of
gospel ministers, and what is the only right qualification for
speaking " as the oracles of God."
Nancy Sim, who was also in low pecuniary circumstances,

1666.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 183
readily opened her house, at a place called Ardiharrald, for
religious meetings. But the people flocked to them so
greatly, that her house would by no means contain them ;
and they were often obliged to meet in the open field. Thus
did the word of the Lord prevail ; and such as were made
willing to yield to it, esteemed it more than their necessary
food ; so that they could unite with the prophet Jeremiah,
in acknowledging : " Thy word was unto me the joy and
rejoicing of my heart."
But the principal instrument in these parts, for the gath
ering of many from the barren mountains of an empty
profession, to feed in the green pastures of life, under the
leadings of the Shepherd of Israel, was Patrick Livingston.
He was convinced about the year 1659, when about twenty-
five years of age ; and three years afterwards, coming north
wards in the work of the ministry, from Montrose, his native
place, he was the means of planting a flourishing meeting
of Friends at Kinmuck, which afterwards grew to be the
largest in the nation.
The public preachers of the established form of religion
now took the alarm, and a series of persecutions soon com
menced, with the intention of destroying this vigorous young
plant which was growing up within their precincts. But
the more they trampled it under their feet, the more did it
spread its verdure abroad, to their discomfiture, and the
opening of the eyes of many to see the emptiness of their
pretensions as teachers of the people, and the inconsistency
of their practice with the mild and lovely features of the
Christian life.
In the year 1666, Colonel David Barclay, of Ury, and his
son Robert, openly attached themselves to the Society,
refusing the glory of this world, and the various opportuni
ties within their grasp, of gratifying " the lust of the flesh,
the lust of the eye, and the pride of life ; " and accepting
cheerfully " the reproach of Christ," becoming fools for his
take, that so they might be " to the praise of his glory."

184 HISTORICAL MEMOIES OF [1666.
David Barclay was born in 1610, at Kirktounhill, in
Scotland, and received a liberal education. Growing ujJ;o
man's estate, he travelled into Germany, and enlisted in the
army of Gustavus Adolphus, king of Sweden; but after
being engaged in many battles, he returned home on the
breaking out of the civil wars in his native country. In
1646, having attained to the rank of Colonel in the Scottish
forces, he was sent with an army to quell an insurrection of
the Earl of Crawford, whom he entirely routed ; and after
being for several years successfully engaged in various mili
tary expeditions, was made governor of Strathboggie, then
a place of much strength. He soon after married Catharine
Gordon, grand-daughter of the Earl of Sutherland, and third
cousin to King James I. of Great Britain. He continued to
occupy a prominent station in the Scotch army for several
years, until the success of the republican party placed them
in temporary possession of the reins of government. He
was soon afterwards elected member of Parliament, where,
he vigorously opposed the project for Oliver Cromwell's
being made king. After this, he disentangled himself from
public affairs, and retired into a life of privacy. His retire
ment from the world afforded an opportunity for becoming
acquainted with himself, and with the uncertainty of all
temporal things. He was now between fifty and sixty years
of age ; and thought it high time for him who had spent so
many years in the service of the public, fo bestow the
remainder of his life wholly in that of his Creator. He
betook himself to a close reading of the New Testament, and
was brought clearly to see that the religion of Christ, " was
righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost " — that
it taught to be humble, patient, self-denying, — to endure
and suffer all things, — and not to place our happiness or
comfort on this world, or the things of it.
He now heard of a people, who, under great reproach for
singularity and abstractedness from the world, bore, in much

1666.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 185
plainness and simplicity, a remarkable testimony both in
their words and practice, against the follies and vanities of
the world ; and he considered, that if they were really such
as even their enemies acknowledged, there must be some
what extraordinary about them. Accordingly, with the
greatest earnestness did he enter into an examination rela
tive to this way, which was indeed " everywhere spoken
against." And being in London, he conversed with several
Friends, whereby his mind became convinced of the truth
of their principles. Some months afterwards, being, on a
baseless political pretence connected with his former public
career, imprisoned in Edinburgh Castle, along with the
Laird of Swintoune, who had zealously embraced the views
of Friends, he was still further confirmed in his belief of
their accordance with primitive Christianity. His imprison
ment took place soon after the decease of his wife, about the
year 1663; and in 1666, he openly connected himself in
membership with the Society of Friends; and eventually
became eminent for his religious and exemplary life, as he
had before been for military bravery. He had formerly
been much unacquainted with the virtue of Christian meek
ness, and patient endurance of injuries : but now, when
Friends were often mobbed by the very dregs of the com
munity, it was remarkable that none bore these indignities
with greater calmness than David Barclay. One of his rela
tions lamenting that he should now be treated so differently
from what he formerly had been ; he answered, that he found
more satisfaction in being thus insulted for his religious prin
ciples, than when, some years before, it was usual for the
magistrates, as he passed the city of Aberdeen, to meet him
several miles, and conduct him to a public entertainment in
their town-house, and then convey him so far out again, in
order to gain his favor. His humility and sincerity as to
religion was most remarkable in his whole conduct; and
16*

186 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1666.
his deportment is said to have been particularly awful and
striking, when engaged in public prayer.
His son Robert was born in 1648, and having from a child
the appearance of a promising genius, was sent by his father
to finish his education, at the Scotch college at Paris, of
which his uncle was rector. Here he became so great a
favorite, and made such proficiency, that his uncle desired
to adopt him, and offered to make him heir to his large
estate, if he would consent to remain. His father, however,
in his seventeenth year, fearing, and not without reason, lest
he might become tainted with the superstitions of Popery,
went to Paris to bring him home. His uncle still endeavored
to prevent his return, and offered to present to him imme
diately, an estate greater than his paternal one. But mind
ful of his filial duty, Robert replied, " he is my father, and
must be obeyed;" and the uncle, disappointed, left his
property to the college, and to other religious institutions in
France. It was in 1664, that he returned to Scotland ; and having
strictly examined into the principles of Friends, he soon
found himself constrained, upon the same ground of real
conviction as his father had been, to embrace their doctrine
and life. One of his intimate friends has testified that this
change was not consummated through the means of outward
instruments ; but that in one of their meetings, he was
effectually "reached in the time of silence," and made to
bow before the Truth. He himself declares, that he " came
to receive and bear witness to the Truth," " not by strength
of argument, or by a particular disquisition of each doctrine,
and convincement . of the understanding thereby ; but bv
being secretly reached by this life. For, when I came intu
the silent assemblies of God's people, I felt a secret power
amongst them which touched my heart ; and as I gave way
unto it, I found the evil weakening in me, and the good
raised up ; and so I became thus knit and united unto them,

1670.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 187
hungering more and more after the increase of this power
and life, whereby I might find myself perfectly redeemed."
Thus did he travail in spirit for his soul's delivery out of
the power and bondage of corruption, "into the glorious
liberty of the children of God;" and through great love,
watchfulness, and fidelity to the inward appearance of Jesus
Christ by his light and Spirit, he early came forth a zealous
and able witness thereof; taking up his cross to the glory
and friendship of this world, and " esteeming the reproach
of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt."
Thus he rapidly advanced to such a growth in grace and
saving knowledge, as has been the admiration of many ;
and it was not long, before he was called to the public min
istry of the Gospel.
About the year 1670, he married Christian Molleson, a
young woman who had, through much suffering and hard
ship, publicly embraced the principles of Friends, in her
sixteenth year. But though he was now favored with the
greatest of all temporal blessings, a pious and devoted part
ner, yet he did not consider himself at liberty to surrender
up the ripening powers of manhood to selfish ease or supine-
ness. Indeed, he seemed to receive the gifts of a gracious
Providence, as fresh signals for grateful and vigorous en
gagement in the warfare of the Christian life. He was not
only diligent in laboring in the ministry which he had re
ceived, but also remarkably drawn forth to advocate, by a
divinely guided pen, the simple principles of the pure re
ligion which he professed. His works, which were all pub
lished within nine years after his marriage, and when he
was between the ages of twenty-two and thirty-one years,
formed, when collected, a folio volume of nine hundred
pages. His " Catechism and Confession of Faith " ap
peared in 1673; about a year afterwards, he wrote a
Treatise on Christian Discipline, entitled " The Anarchy of
the Ranters," &c; and in the twenty-eighth year of his age,

188 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1672.
he published (first in Latin) his celebrated " Apology for
the True Christian Divinity, as held by the people called
Quakers ; " a work surpassed by no modern disquisitions of
religious doctrine ; a work which has never been refuted ;
and an argumentative declaration of pure Christian prin
ciples, which can scarcely fail to bring conviction to the
candid mind, seriously seeking the truth.
In common with many of his fellow-laborers in the glo
rious cause of spirituality and real holiness, Robert Barclay
came under that humbling description of exercise and
service, which often engaged them to testify, in various
ways, against the unsound, mixed, and even corrupt pro
fession of religion, so much prevailing in the world ; and
he gave up to obey the call to some hard and weighty re
quisitions of this kind ; sometimes visiting the congregations
of such people, with a word of warning or of rebuke. On
one occasion in particular, in the year 1672, he was con
strained, under a strong sense of duty, to pass through three
of the principal streets of Aberdeen, clothed in sackcloth,
and exhorting the people to repentance. After he had thus
submitted to become "a spectacle to men," he wrote an
address to the inhabitants, declaring the still extended love
of God to be waiting for their souls, and desiring to lead
them by His Light and Spirit revealed in their hearts, " out
of all unrighteousness and filthiness of flesh and spirit,
unto all righteousness, truth, holiness, peace, and joy in the
Holy Ghost." He reminded them that many among them
had despised the meek and lowly appearance of God's wit
ness in their hearts: "Therefore," says he, "was I com
manded ofthe Lord God, to pass through your streets covered
with sackcloth and ashes, calling you to repentance." . . .
 "And some whom I called, to declare unto them
this thing, can bear witness, how great was the agony of
my spirit, — how I besought the Lord with tears, that this
cup might pass away from me! — yea, how the pillars of

1672.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 189
my tabernacle were shaken, and how exceedingly my bones
trembled, until I freely gave up unto the Lord's will. And
this was the end and tendency of my testimony, to call you
to repentance by this signal and singular step ; which I, as
to my own will and inclination, was as unwilling to be
found in, as the worst and most wicked of you can be
averse from receiving or laying it to heart." And after an
earnest and affectionate expostulation, he thus concludes :
" I have peace with my God in what I have done, and am
satisfied that his requirings I have answered in this thing. I
have not sought yours, but you ; nor entertain evil towards
any ; but continue in pure and unfeigned love towards all ;
being ready to ' bless those that curse ; ' to ' do good to those
that despitefully use ' me ; and to be spent in the will of the
Lord for your sokes, that your souls may be saved, and God
over all may be glorified ! for which I travail and cry be
fore the throne of Grace, as becometh a servant of the Lord
Jesus Christ."
It is remarkable that most of the persecutions of the
early Friends were instigated by the jealousy of the pro
fessed teachers of religion ; who were keen-sighted enough
to perceive, that the success of the principles of the new
Society would give a mortal blow to the hireling system, by
which they lived upon the credulity and money of the peo
ple. Robert Barclay's marriage was one of the circum
stances which greatly raised their anger. In this important
undertaking, he could not swerve from his principles, and
by submitting to the common mode of accomplishing his
marriage, sanction the unholy trade in religious things. In
accordance therefore with the practice of the Society, his
marriage was solemnly accomplished in an assembly of his
Friends and others, and in the presence of the Most High.
The public preachers were so much exasperated at this
neglect of their authority, that they procured letters to
summon him before the Privy Council, for an unlawful

190 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1672.
marriage ; though they never had power to put their threats
in execution against him.
Another matter which much provoked the priests, and
nearly allied to the above, was the practise of Friends in
burying their dead, to abstain from all the customary per
formances of ministers appointed by man, and acting under
the promptings of man's will and judgment. This also struck
at the emoluments of the clergy, as they arrogantly named
themselves, and afresh excited their jealousy and rage. By
their influence with the magistrates, in 1672, they procured
the destruction of the walls of Friends' burial-ground at
Aberdeen, in which a child of one of the members had
been, a few days before, interred. The body was taken up,
the coffin shamefully broken open, and carried for re-inter
ment to a neighboring village. They continued to remove
every corpse that was interred in that ground, until by
means of a representation made to the King's Council, they
were checked in this uncommon inhumanity. They found,
however, other means to persecute this innocent people,
often casting them into prison for their faithful attendance
of their religious meetings, and fining them for non-pay
ment of the hire of the priests. But through all, Friends
in Scotland continued to increase, and a considerable num
ber of meetings were soon established in various parts of
the country.

1663.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 191
CHAPTER XX.
ACCOUNT OF THOMAS LURTING AND THE ALGERINE PIRATES.
THE Christian behavior of Thomas Lurting under very
trying and dangerous circumstances, in the year 1663,
was of too remarkable a character to be passed over in
silence, illustrating as the narrative does, the contrast
between that spirit which seeks the destruction of our fellow-
creatures, and that which breathes " peace on earth and good
will to men."
Thomas Lurting, in early life, occupied the station of
boatswain's mate in a man-of-war under Admiral Blake ; in
which occupation he eminently displayed those qualities
which are by men of this world called bravery and courage ;
and being accordingly put into the post of danger, he met
with many remarkable preservations of his life in times of
close engagement in battle.
About the year 1654, several of the ship's company were
favored with a divine visitation to their minds, under which
some of them became convinced in degree of the principles
of Friends, and began to decline hearing the hired services
of the chaplain of the vessel, and to meet in silence among
themselves. Thomas was informed of this by the priest, and
his passions being excited by this man's false representations
of them, he fell to beating and cruelly abusing his ship
mates, when he found them thus religiously met together to
wait on the Most High. This conduct however was far from
producing ease of mind. The judgments of the Lord soon
overtook him, and he became exceedingly distressed with
what he had done ; and dwelling under the condemnation,
he became more and more enlightened, to perceive his own

192 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1663.
state of alienation from God ; his heart became tendered and
broken ; and he sought for retirement, that he might freely
pour out the burden of his contrited soul to the Lord. This
change was observed by the ship's crew, so that at length it
came to his share to be mocked and ridiculed.
Being alone one evening waiting on the Lord, and earnestly
seeking to know his duty, it was clearly shown him that he
must join himself to that little band whom he had so often
abused. Remembering his aversion to them, and his con
tempt of their apparently foolish way of religion, he felt as
if he would rather give up his natural life than comply in
so repulsive a matter. But the Lord reminded him of his
many wonderful preservations; which mollified his heart,
and being still followed by inward reproofs and judgments,
he came at length, after much struggling, to the conclusion,
that " whether Quaker or no Quaker, he was for peace with
God." After a while, he opened some of his feelings to one
of them, named Roger Dennis, and when First-day came, he
resolved to go to the little meeting on board, which was now
of six in number. It soon got wind among the sailors, that
Thomas was among the Quakers ; and many of the ship's
company leaving their own worship to look at him, greatly
disturbed the quiet of their little gathering. He was sum
moned after this, before the captain and priest, but their
arguments only tended to confirm him in the rectitude of his
present position ; and continuing to meet with his friends,
some others also joined them, so that in less than six months,
their number was doubled.
Hitherto Thomas and his friends had not perceived the
inconsistency of war with true religion. Their minds how
ever were undergoing the process of preparation for seeing
more clearly the peaceable nature of the Messiah's kingdom
in the heart, and they declined partaking of any of the booty
seized in skirmishes with the enemy. They were caressed
by many on board, as brave and useful men ; and indeed

1663.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 193
they displayed such alacrity and boldness in fulfilling the
requisitions of their officers, that the captain said he cared
not if all his men were Quakers, for they were the hardiest •
men in his ship. But it was not long before their duty was
clearly manifested to them in this particular, and then came
a time of close trial.
This occurred while tney were bombarding a castle at or
near the town of Barcelona. Thomas and his friends were
fighting with as much earnestness as any, and the vessel
being annoyed by the shots fired from one corner of the
castle, he proposed to beat down that part of it ; and went
into the forecastle, stripped to the waist, to level the ship's
guns towards that spot. This being done, he was coming
out of the forecastle to see where the shot would fall, when
suddenly the query ran through his mind, "What if now
thou kill est a man ? " This struck him instantly with strong
emotions ; and He who alone can turn the hearts of men, so
suddenly and completely changed his views, that he imme
diately felt" that he must not proceed in the destruction of
his fellow-creatures, even if it were to gain the whole world.
Putting on his clothes, he walked the deck, as if he had not
seen a gun fired ; and being under great mental exercise,
some asked him if he were hurt. He replied, " No ; but
under some scruple of conscience on the account of fighting."
Though he knew not at that time that this was one of the
doctrines held by Friends, yet he clearly saw that they who
had been so active in fighting must now bear their testimony
against it, and abide the consequences. Soon afterwards,
one of his friends also informed the captain that he could
no longer continue to fight. The latter threatened to run
his sword into any one who refused to fight in time of
engagement, and severely beat the friend with his fist and
cane, for attempting to reason with him upon it.
Some time after this, while cruising in the Mediterranean,
a ship was discovered bearing down upon them, supposed to
17

194 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1663.
be a Spanish man-of-war. Orders were of course given, to
prepare the ship for an engagement; and Thomas, who saw
that a time of trial was approaching for himself and friends,
called them together, and encouraged them to faithfulness
to their convictions; and at the same time exhorted them
not to deceive the captain, who placed confidence in them,
but publicly to show him, in good time before the engage
ment, what their intentions were. His friends agreeing with
him, collected round the capstan, and oner%f them informed
the lieutenant that he could no longer fight. This was im
mediately reported to the captain, who came furiously down
upon him, flung his hat overboard, and taking him by the
collar, beat him with a great cane, and dragged him to his
quarters. He then retired to the half-deck, called for his
sword, and drew it with great passion. Thomas now ft.-..
constrained to go to him, and under great exercise of mind
.Aimed round to his friend Roger Dennis, and said, " I must
go to the captain : " to which Roger returned, " Be well
satisfied in what thou doest." Thomas replied, that there
was a necessity laid upon him ; and then seeing the captain
coming forward with his drawn sword, he stepped towards
him, keeping his eye fixed upon him in much seriousness,
and his mind intent upon the secret pointings of the Divine
finger. The captain saw him ; was struck with the authority
in which he came ; his countenance turned pale ; and turn
ing away, he gave his sword to an attendant, and went off.
The ship which they had taken for an enemy, soon proved
to belong to a friendly nation, and the captain, ashamed of
his conduct, sent the priest before night to apologize to
Thomas for his passionate behavior. Thus was the latter
preserved through outward dangers and inward trials of
faith, until at length he got safe home.
Now leaving ships of war, his subsequent voyages were in
merchant-vessels ; but from these he was several times
pressed into the king's service ; and being carried on board

1663.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 195
the men-of-war, he suffered greatly for not feeling himself at
liberty to do any work on board such vessels. On one occa
sion, the captain of the ship on board of which he was carried,
was very violent, threatening either to hang him or take him
before the Duke of York, for not being willing to do any
work on board ; but the next night being exceedingly
troubled in mind on his prisoner's account, he sent for " the
Quaker " in haste, and put him ashore, in order to be able
to rest peaceably1 in his bed.
In the year 1663, Thomas Lurting being mate of a vessel
commanded by a Friend, they were chased in the Mediter
ranean by an Algerine pirate ; which coming up with them,
compelled the captain and several of the men to come on
board their vessel, leaving only Thomas with three men and
a boy behind. The Algerines then put about fourteen of
their own men aboard the English ship. While they were
coming in the boat, Thomas was under great exercise of
mind, not knowing what the event might be ; but retiring
mentally to the Lord his ever gracious Preserver, he felt an
inward assurance that he should not be carried to Algiers,
as many were, and sold into slavery. His confidence in
dhtane protection was renewed, and meeting the Algerines
at the ship's side, he received them in a friendly manner,
and showed them the vessel and cargo. The pirates also
behaved towards him personally with civility. Thomas
afterwards endeavored to cheer the men of the ship, by
telling them of his assurance that they should not go to
Algiers ; and exhorted them now to be willing to obey the
Turks, as the people of Algiers were called by the English.
This they promised to do ; and he soon perceived that they
gained the favor and confidence of these barbarous people,
who gradually grew careless and easy, and several of them
returned to their own ship with some small matter of plunder.
Soon afterwards the captain and men were returned on board
from the other vessel, which relieved Thomas's great anxiety

196 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1663.
for their safety. He still assured the seamen of his belief
that they should not go to Algiers, and told them that if
they would be ruled by his directions, he would act for their
delivery as well as his own ; though he saw at present no
way to effect it. The vessel having been commanded by a
Friend, though the sailors were not of that persuasion, had
of course no arms on board, except what were in possession
of the pirates, who were well armed. Thqmas said to the
seamen, " What if we should overcome theAurks, and go to
Majorca?" at which the men rejoiced, and began to boast
of their intentions of killing their captors ; but this being
very far from the mate's intentions, he was much grieved,
and plainly told them that he intended not to hurt any, and
if he knew that any of them would touch a Turk for that
purpose, he would tell the Turks himself; adding, " but if ye
will be ruled, I will act for you ; if not, I will be still." To
this the men agreed ; and he strictly charged them to do all
that the pirates should tell them, with the utmost diligence,
so as to gain still more their confidence. Divulging his
plans to the captain, the latter agreed to let him do what he
would, provided no blood should be spilt ; which Thomas
of course engaged, as he said he would rather go to Algiers,
than to kill one of the Turks.
The weather now becoming stormy, they lost the company
of the Algerine vessel, which was favorable to the mate's
wishes ; and the pirates had by this time grown extremely
easy and careless, from the good behavior of the sailors.
The second night after the vessels parted company, the
leader of the pirates and one of his company having gone to
sleep in the cabin with the captain, Thomas persuaded
another of them to lie in his own cabin, and about an hour
afterwards, another in another cabin ; and as it rained very
hard, he at length persuaded them all to lie down and sleep.
When they were all fast asleep, he came to them, and fairly
got possession of their arms ; and going to the sailors, he

1663.J THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 197
said to them, " Now we have the Turks at our command, no
man shall hurt them — but as they are under deck, we will
keep them so, and go for Majorca." And having ordered
some to keep the doors, and not to let more than one -out at
a time, he steered for that island ; and having a brisk gale,
when morning came they were in sight of it. The Turks
finding this, were struck with consternation, and began to
beg that they might not be sold ; which the mate assured
them they should not; and when they came towards the
shore, they concealed the pirates in the ship, to prevent the
Spaniards from discovering that any were on board. But
by the treachery of an Englishman, to whom they confi
dentially divulged what they had done, the Spaniards got
wind of it, and would have seized these men to sell them for
slaves ; and they had much difficulty, with the assistance of
the pirates themselves, in getting clear of the island, so as to
enable them to save their prisoners from such a fate. They
at length got safely out to sea, thus placing themselves again
in great danger, in order to save those men from their
enemies. Several times these ungrateful people attempted to rise
against them, notwithstanding they were treated with great
kindness ; but the Christian intrepidity and prudence of the
mate, kept them from their purpose. On one occasion, when
the ten pirates were for some purpose all on deck, and none
of the English there but the captain, the mate, and the man
at the helm, they began to behave in such a way as to
awaken Thomas's suspicions of intended mischief; where
upon, stamping with his foot on the deck, he brought up the
men from below ; who began to look about for something
wherewith they might fall on the Turks. He bade them
however not to hurt them ; but hearing some of the pirates
threatening the captain, he stepped up to their leader, and
laying hold of him, told him to go below ; which he did
very quietly, and the rest followed him. Two days after
17*

198 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1663.
this, they came off the coast of Barbary, about fifty miles
from Algiers, and began to consider the best means of put
ting the pirates ashore, with safety to themselves. Thomas,
who trusted in the Lord's preserving power, undertook this
hazardous business ; and taking with him two men and a
boy, he put these ten Turks into the boat, all loose and
unbound, in order that, if necessary, they might be able to
swim ashore. In order to provide against a sudden rising,
whereby they might get possession of the boat, he made them
sit in each other's laps, the leader being the lowest at the
stern of the boat, and he himself sitting with a boat-hook in
his hand on the bow. Thus the boat stood for the shore ;
but as they came near it, the sailors becoming afraid, sud
denly cried out that there were Turks in the bushes on the
shore; and the pirates perceiving their fright, took advan
tage of it, and all rose up in the boat. But the mate in this
emergency preserved his presence of mind, and with the
boat-hook in his hand he struck the leader a smart blow,
and bid him sit down ; which he did instantly, and the rest
followed his example. After the boat was come so near the
shore that they could easily make to land, he bid the pirates
jump out; which they did; and giving them some pro
visions, and afterwards putting the boat closer in, he sent
them off, and got safe back to the ship. The Algerines,
getting up to the top of the hill, waved their caps at the
English, and so took their leave. Thomas Lurting had the
satisfaction of reflecting that he had followed the injunction
of his Divine Master, even to love our enemies, and do good
to them that hate us ; and having by his prudence, under
the guidance of heavenly wisdom, thus saved the ship and
his companions, he was favored to return to England with
a prosperous wind. On his arrival in the river Thames, this
extraordinary transaction having become known in London,
the king, with the Duke of York, and several other nobles,
came in the royal barge, to have the narrative from Thomas's

1665.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 199
own mouth ; though it appears that the monarch did not
duly appreciate the principles under which he had acted.
About this time there were a number of Friends held in
captivity at Algiers ; who by faithfully serving those who
claimed them as slaves, gained the esteem of the inhabitants,
and were suffered to go at large in the town, without being
chained as others were. These met together for religious
worship, and one of them received a gift in the ministry, for
the edification of his Friends. Some other English slaves
also frequented the meeting, and came to be united with
them ; and the name of Quaker came to be known in Algiers,
as that of a people that might be trusted beyond all others.

CHAPTER XXI.
DEATH OF SAMUEL FISHER — ACCOUNT OF HIS CONVINCE
MENT, ETC.
AMONG the great numbers of the people called Quakers
who laid down their lives in prison during the year
1665, was Samuel Fisher. He was a man of good abilities,
and had received a liberal education, having, when a young
man, been sent to one of the universities to complete his
studies. Being a youth of circumspect and pious conversa
tion, his mind was burdened with many practices which he
found prevalent at the university. But at the conclusion
of his studies there, he was ordained a priest, and became
first a chaplain to a person in authority, and afterwards was
presenteii to the living of Lidd, in Kent, with a stipend of
about two hundred pounds a year.
Before he became acquainted with Friends, being con-

200 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1665.
scientiously engaged in seeking after truth, he discovered
that infant baptism was a mere human institution, and that
to preach for hire was contrary to the command of Christ :
" Freely ye have received — freely give." And being
requested by a person of his acquaintance, to converse with
a young man who had been in some degree convinced of the
principles of Friends, but as yet had no acquaintance with
any of that people ; in his endeavors to remove this young
man's scruples in respect to some of their religious per
formances, he was himself convinced of the impropriety of
the common practice of giving out psalms for a mixed con
gregation to sing, whose minds must be in very different
stages of religious attainment, and consequently unfit in
many instances to take the words of the holy psalmist as
expressive of their own condition. At length his continuing
to preach for hire, contrary to his convictions, became a
burden too heavy for him to bear ; and he voluntarily
resigned his pastoral charge, and trusted to the protection
of Divine Providence, in an endeavor by honest industry to
provide a subsistence for himself and his family. He rented
a farm, and commenced the business of a grazier ; by which
he was favored to procure a comfortable competency, with
the consolation of the testimony of an approving conscience.
Having discovered a great mixture of human tradition
and invention retained from the papal system, among the
Episcopalians, he withdrew from their communion, and join
ing the Baptists, became for a time a favorite teacher among
them. But his mind was still seeking the further discoveries
of the Divine will ; and about the year 1655, it pleased the
Father of mercies to open his understanding to behold more
"wondrous things out of his law." William Caton and
John Stubbs, two eminent ministers among Friends, came
to Lidd ; and Samuel Fisher, remembering the apostolic
exhortation, " Be not forgetful to entertain strangers,"
received them into his house. John Stubbs going to the

1665.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 201
meeting of the Baptists where Samuel officiated, and obtain
ing an opportunity to preach the gospel, delivered the sound
principles of Christian truth with such clearness and author
ity, that Samuel was deeply affected. And observing that
the life and conversation of these gospel messengers were
consonant to the testimony they held forth, he was so much
impressed, that giving up all his dependence on his own
wisdom and learning, he soon became thoroughly convinced,
and openly professed the religion of this persecuted people.
Whilst Samuel Fisher's mind was undergoing this change,
Hammond, his colleague in office, took upon him to utter in
a sermon many bitter invectives against the Quakers. On
which, Samuel, incited by a more Christian temper, and a
dispassionate regard for truth, thought that his duty to his
misinformed flock required him to bear his testimony against
the calumnies of his colleague. " Dear brother," said he,
with the moderation and charity of a Christian, " you are
very dear and near to me, but the truth is dearer and nearer :
it is the everlasting truth and gospel which they hold forth."
" Our brother Fisher is also bewitched," retorted Hammond,
in a very different spirit. But Samuel's faith was not of
that cast to return reviling for reviling ; and having sincerely
borne his testimony, he then left it, and followed his own
convictions to his great peace. Soon after joining the Society
of Friends, he received a gift in the ministry, and travelled
much both in England and other countries. In Flanders,
he faithfully testified against the idolatry of the papists :
and afterwards, in company with John Stubbs, crossed the
Alps on foot, and travelled through Italy to Rome ; where
they bore a faithful testimony to the simplicity of true
religion, and exposed the superstitions of that seat of bigotry
and pomp. They also distributed some books among the
ecclesiastics of that city, and having finished their service,
passed away without molestation.
But though Samuel escaped persecution among the

202 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1665.
Romanists, he met with his full share of it from the protes-
tants of his native country ; and spent the greatest part of
the last four years of his life in prison. In 1662, in com
pany with William Ames and some other Friends, he was
violently seized by a party of soldiers, with no warrant but
their drawn swords ; and after six weeks' confinement was
committed to Newgate, for refusal to take an oath, and
without any form of trial. Here he continued about twelve
months, and in a short time after his release, was again
taken, and committed to the White-lion prison in Southwark.
This was his last imprisonment, and only ceased with his
life. He remained nearly two years in confinement, until in
1665, the plague broke out in London, and soon raged to
such a degree that seven thousand persons died of it in that
city in one week. Of course it reached the filthy and
crowded prisons, where many Friends were at that time
confined ; and in Newgate prison alone, no less than fifty-
two of that people laid down their lives, twenty-two of whom
were under sentence of transportation.
Whether this was the disease by which Samuel Fisher
was called to his everlasting home, we are not informed ;
but he finished his course in prison in perfect peace.

1665.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 203

CHAPTER XXII.
TB-iS SUFFERINGS OF RICHARD SELLER, FOR HIS TESTIMONY
AGAINST WAR, ON BOARD THE FLAG-SHIP " ROYAL
PRINCE.''

, " *

WE have seen how Thomas Lurting was preserved through
sufferings, a faithful witness of the peaceable nature
of the Redeemer's kingdom, and finally overcame the malice
of his enemies. We now have to narrate the simple story
of another soldier of the Lamb's army, who knowing that
the weapons of the Christian's warfare are not carnal but
spiritual, endured uncommon cruelties, and refused to save
his life, by uniting in the destruction of his fellow-men.
Richard Seller was a fisherman of Kilnsea, on the coast
of Yorkshire, who had been convinced of the truth of the
principles of the Society of Friends. During the war
between the English and Dutch about the year 1665, he
was pressed at Scarborough into the king's service, and
forcibly conveyed on board the flag-ship " Royal Prince,"
commanded by Admiral Sir Edward Spragg, and having on
board nearly one thousand men. Being commanded to go
to work at the capstan, he declined, and told them that not
being free to do the king's work, he would not live at his
charge for victuals. Upon this the boatswain's mate beat
him severely ; and he was ordered on the quarter-deck ;
where the captain asking him the reason of his refusing to
fight, or partake of the ship's provisions, he replied that he
was afraid of offending God, and durst not fight with carnal
* See Besse's "Collection of the Sufferings of the Quakers," vol.
ii. p. 112.

204 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1665.
weapons ; whereupon the captain also fell upon him with
nis cane, knocking him down three or four times on the
deck, and beating him very severely as long as he had
strength to do it. One Thomas Horner coming up, who had
had some acquaintance with Richard, entreated the captain
" to be merciful, for he knew him to be an honest and good
man;" but the captain in his fury exclaimed, "he is a
Quaker, — I will beat his brains out ! " and falling upon him
again, beat him until he became exhausted, and then called
another person to help him. After this they tied two ropes
to his wrists, and reefing the ropes through two blocks in the
mizzen-shrouds, hoisted him up aloft, and fastened the ropes,
so that he hung there by his wrists for some time, a butt for
the vulgar jests of this wicked crew. Then they let fly the
ropes, and he fell upon the deck. The captain called to the
boatswain's mate, to " take the Quakerly dog away, and put
him to the capstan, and make him work, and beat him, and
spare him not." This man performed his officer's command
thoroughly, beating Richard unmercifully, tying his hands
to the capstan, and making the men thus haul him round
with them by main force. But the fastenings of his hands
coming loose by some means which no one could explain,
the conscience of this guilty man appears to have been
aroused ; he thought it was done by an invisible hand ; and
his mind was so strongly affected by the circumstance, that
he "promised before God and man, that he would never
beat or cause to be beaten, either Quaker or any other man
that refused for conscience sake to act for the king ; and if
he should, he wished he might lose his right hand."
This man's turn came now to suffer. He was called up
before the admiral, for refusing any longer to beat Richard
Seller : and being desired to answer for himself, he said, " I
have beaten him very sore ; and I seized his arms to the
capstan's bars, and forced them to heave him about, and
beat him, — and in three or four times of the capstan's going

1665.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 205
about, the seizings were loosed, and he came and sat down
by me. Then I called the men from the capstan and had
them sworn, whether they had loosed him or not ; but they
all denied that they either loosed him or knew by what
means he was loosed; neither could the seizings ever be
found. Therefore I did and do believe that it was an invis
ible power that set him at liberty, and I did promise before
God and the company, that I would never beat a Quaker
again, nor any man else for conscience sake." At this the
admiral told him, he must lose his cane (the insignia of his
office) ; which he willingly yielded. He added, that " he
must also lose his place;" which also he was willing to do.
He then told him " he must lose his right hand ;" when he
held it out, and said, " take it from me if you please." So
they took his cane from him, and displaced him, but did
not fulfil the other barbarous threat.
Richard was given in charge by the admiral to seven
men, who were commanded to beat him wherever they met
with him, for seven days and nights, and to make him work ;
the first of which they did till they were weary, and desired
to be excused. Another man then undertook it, and beat
him occasionally for a day and a night ; when he also desired
to be excused. The admiral having him stripped, and
examining his body, could find no bruises; at which he
grew angry with the men for not beating him enough ; but
Captain Fowler replied to him, " I have beaten him myself
as much as would have killed an ox." The jester, (a silly
man often in those days retained about the persons of the
nobility to make merriment by his fooleries,) who had insti
gated them to the hoisting punishment, said " he had him
hung a great while by the arms up aloft in the shrouds ; "
and the men declared, " they also had beaten him very sore,
but they might as well have beaten the mainmast." The
admiral, however, was inexorable; Richard was laid in
irons, and the ship's company by proclamation prohibited

206 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1665.
on pain of similar punishment, from providing him with
food. So he lay in irons day and night for nearly two
weeks, /and would probably have famished, but that two
Friends of Bridlington had, early after his seizure, sent him
a supply of provisions. As it was, he grew very ill with a
,Jever. After some days, the remainder of his food being taken
away, the carpenter's mate secretly provided him with some
refreshment, telling him that he had of his own, independent
of the ship's provisions, and that before he came on board he
was strictly charged by his wife and mother, " that if any
Quaker came on board, he should be kind to them ; " he added
that he had also lately received a letter from them, wherein they
repeated their charge, " to remember his promise, and be kind
to Quakers, if any were on board." This man, however, was
soon sent away from the vessel on some occasion, and Richard
remained without sustenance for three days and nights.
After suffering in this way for a considerable time, the
admiral called a council of war, composed of the officers of
that and other ships, to decide on the final punishment to
which Richard Seller should be condemned. Being so lame
with the irons that he could not stand, he was set on a bulk
head to hear his sentence. The judge or president, who was
governor of Dover Castle, was a papist ; and when they were
much divided in sentiment, to what death to subject their
prisoner, this man proposed that he " should be put into a
barrel or cask driven full of nails with their points inwards,
and so rolled to death." But the council of war thinking
this too horrible a punishment, agreed that he should be
hung. The poor innocent prisoner meanwhile was lifting
up his heart to the God of his life ; who left him not in his
extremity, but raised his mind above all earthly things,
endued him with sudden strength, and enabled him to
declare to the assembly, that " the hearts of kings themselves
were in the hand of the Lord, and so were theirs and his ;
that he valued not what they could do to this his body, for

1665.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 207
he was at peace with God and with all mankind, even with
them, his adversaries ; that he could never die in a better
condition, for the Lord had satisfied him that his sins were
forgiven, and he was glad in His mercy that He had made
him willing to suffer for His name's sake — that he was
heartily glad and did really rejoice with a seal to the same
in his heart." His accusers and judges could not bear this,
and most of them slunk away. A man came and laid his
hand on Richard's shoulder, saying, "where are all thy
accusers ? " And looking round he found them gone. The
admiral, however, being still there, he showed him his terri
ble sores, produced by the irons on his limbs ; and an old
soldier coming up, put off his cap, and kneeling down on his
bared knees before the commander, with the obsequious
etiquette of the navy, begged his pardon three times, and
having got liberty to speak, thus addressed him : " Noble
Sir Edward, you know that I have served his majesty under
you many years, both in this nation and other nations by
sea, and you were always a merciful man : therefore I do
entreat you in all kindness, to be merciful to this poor man,
who is condemned to die to-morrow, and only for denying
your order, for fear of offending God, and for conscience
sake ; and we have but one man on board, out of nine hun
dred and fifty, which doth refuse for conscience-sake ; and
shall we take his life away? Nay, God forbid. For he
hath already declared, that if we take his life, there shall a
judgment appear on some on board within eight and forty-
hours ; and to me it hath appeared ; therefore I am forced to
come upon quarter-deck before you, and my spirit is one with
his. And therefore I desire you in all kindness, when you
take his life, to give me the liberty to go off; for I shall
not be willing to serve his majesty any longer on board ship.
So I do entreat you once more, to be merciful to this poor
man." The chief gunner also, who had been formerly a captain,

208 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1665.
came in the same humble manner, and begged for Richard's
life. The admiral however persisted, and desired him to go
down, and spend the day in taking leave of his acquaintances
on board. That night, one of the men kindly offered him
the use of his hammock, and he obtained the luxury which
had long been denied him, whilst he lay continually in
irons, of a good night's rest. About eight o'clock the next
morning, the captains of the other ships, who had joined in
the council of war, having come on board, and a rope being
fastened on the mizzen-yardarm, with a boy ready to turn
him off, Richard was brought out to be executed. And
coming to the spot, the commander asked the council, how
their judgment stood ? And most of them consenting, he
turned to the prisoner, and desired him freely to speak, if
he had any thing to say before his execution. He replied,
that he had little at present to say. Then came a man who
bid him go forward to be hung; and he stepping on the
gunnel to go towards the rope, the commander bid him stop
there, if he had any thing to say. At this juncture, when
perhaps the hearts of some were softening, at the fate which
seemed impending over this innocent sufferer, the person who
had acted as judge on the trial incautiously showed his
popish bigotry by the remark, " Sir Edward is a merciful
man, that puts that heretic to no worse death than hanging."
The word heretic struck the ear of the admiral, who professed
himself a protestant ; and scorning to be made a tool to
execute the vengeance of a papist, he turned quickly about,
and asked him what he said. " I say," replied he, " that
you are a merciful man, that puts him to no worse death
than hanging." " But," said the commander, " what is that
other word that thou saidst? — that heretic — I say, he is
more a Christian than thyself; for I do believe thou wouldst
hang me, if it were in thy power." And turning to his
prisoner, he said, " Come down again ; I will not hurt a hair
of thy head, for I cannot make one hair grow." He imme-

1665.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 209
diately caused it to be proclaimed three times over, that if
any credible man on board would give evidence that Richard
had done any thing deserving of death, he should have it ;
but no one appearing, he proclaimed, " that the Quaker was
as free a man as any on board." So the men, who filled the
shrouds, tops, and decks, heaved up their hats, and loudly
cried, " God bless Sir Edward, he is a merciful man." And
thus did the Almighty Care-taker of his lowly dependent
children, defeat the evil intentions of those who sought the
life of this faithful sufferer for the cause of a pure conscience,
and for his testimony to the peaceful nature of true Chris
tianity. Great was the peace with which his soul was filled
on this memorable day. Much kindness was shown to him
by all on board ; but he declared that " the great kindness
of the Lord exceeded all."
Being thus preserved from death, he was soon after made
instrumental to the saving of the ship, and the lives of many
on board. It appears that he was visited by a remarkable
dream or vision, in which it was shown him that the vessel
would be engaged with the Dutch on a certain sand-bank,
and in imminent danger of running aground, and so becom
ing a prey to the enemy. And though it was death by the
rules of the navy, for any one to say any thing calculated
to discourage the crew in time of battle, yet he was not easy
without mentioning the circumstance to one or two of the
officers ; and when afterwards they were engaged in battle,
he from the shrouds pointed out to the pilot the very sand
bank, which had been marvellously manifested to him
several days before, when he and the rest were entirely
unacquainted with such a shoal. The vessel was imme
diately put about, in spite of the commander's orders to the
contrary, who knew nothing of the danger ; and they were
thus suddenly rescued from running aground, through the
instrumentality of this despised and abused man. During
the engagement, he was employed in attending to the poor
18*

210 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1665.
wounded and dying men ; and again saved the ship from
danger, by pointing out a fire-ship rapidly approaching
them through the smoke, filled with combustibles, in order
to set them on fire by the collision which would soon have
taken place.
About a week after this, they were again engaged with
the Dutch, and Richard was as before employed in carrying
down and attending to the wounded men. This day they
lost about two hundred of their ship's company. In
describing this day's work, he says, " The lieutenant meeting
me, asked me if I had received any wound ? I told him,
none. He asked, 'How I came to be so bloody?' Then I
told him, ' It was with carrying down wounded men.' So
he took me in his arms, and kissed me ; and this was the
same lieutenant that persecuted me so with irons at the first."
Soon after this, the vessel arriving near Chatham, the
admiral came up to Richard, and laying his hand on his
head, said, " Thou hast done well, and very well too," and
gave him liberty to go ashore. Richard requested from him
a certificate, to show that he had not run away. The
admiral, knowing he was a fisherman, and likely, from his
occupation, to be exposed again to be pressed on board some
ship of war, said, " thou shalt have one to keep thee clear at
home, and also in thy fishing ; " and having it made out, he
signed it, and gave it to Richard, wishing him well, and
desiring to hear from him if he got well home. His pay
was offered him ; but he refused it, and told them that he
had money of his own, which he hoped would serve him till
he reached his home.
Such is the remarkable narrative of the sufferings of this
faithful man, who, rather than violate his conscience by
being instrumental to destroy other men's lives, endured
with patience many sore trials, " loving not his life unto the
death ; '' but was freely resigned to martyrdom for his testi
mony against war, and was preserved from it at the last

1666.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 2 1
extremity, by a memorable interposition of Him who can
change the hearts and purposes of men at his will. And
thus was he enabled to triumph over the malice of his
enemies, who conscious at length of his innocence and virtue,
became his friends and favorers.

CHAPTER XXIII.
WILLIAM PENN'S EARLY LIFE AND CONVINCEMENT.
ABOUT the year 1666, the Society was joined by one
whose talents, education, and rank in life opened to
him the fairest prospects of promotion to the favor of courts,
and the various gratifications which this world has to
bestow ; but who, preferring a life of self-denial and suffer
ing, with and for the people of God and the cause of eter
nal Truth, forsook the pleasures of Egypt at an early age,
and entering heartily into the ranks of the Lord's army,
became eminently serviceable in advancing the cause of
true Christianity, both in the old world and in the new.
William Penn was born in London, in the year 1644.
His father, Admiral Sir William Penn, was a man of good
estate and reputation, and distinguished himself in some
of the highest stations of the British navy. He was
knighted by King Charles the Second ; and became a
peculiar favorite with the Duke of York, afterwards James
the Second. William received a liberal education, and
made so early improvements in learning, that about his
fifteenth year he was entered as a student in the university
of Oxford. He soon however began to display an ardent

212 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1666.
desire after pure and spiritual religion. He had been much
impressed on one occasion, by the ministry of a member of
the Society of Friends, named Thomas Loe ; and yielding
to the feelings which were secretly implanted in his mind,
he, with certain other students of the university, withdrew
from the national ceremonious way of worship, and held
private meetings for devotional purposes, preaching and
praying among themselves. He was now sixteen years of
age ; and this practice giving great offence to the heads of
the college, he was fined for non- conformity ; and still per
severing in what he believed to be more consonant with the
gospel, than the practices of the established form of relig
ion, he was expelled the college, and returned home in 1661.
His father, who had fondly hoped for great worldly pre
ferment for his son, was much disappointed in finding the
change which had taken place in his views. For feeling a
secret sympathy spring up in his heart for sober and relig
ious people, William took great delight in their company,
to the neglect of those associations and occupations which
would have promoted his entrance into a courtly life. His
father endeavored to persuade him to conform to his wishes,
though at the risk of wounding his conscience ; but finding
that neither his entreaties nor blows were sufficient to induce
his son to obey him, rather than his Maker, in a fit of anger
he turned him out of doors.
Relenting however in some measure from his severity, the
next year he sent him to France, in company with some
persons of quality who were making a tour on the conti
nent, hoping by this means to wean him from the serious
thoughtfulness and strictness of life to which he was so
strongly inclined. This snare was wellnigh succeeding;
for being thrown for a year or more among the fashionable
and dissipated circles of the continent of Europe, his mind
became diverted from the concerns of his soul's salvation,
and he came back, to his father's great gratification, an

1666.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 213
accomplished man of the world. But He who watched
over him for good, suffered him not to remain long in this
state of ease. He was mercifully made sensible that the
pleasures of the world, and the maxims dictated by its
spirit, were at enmity with God, and incompatible with an
earnest seeking after that crown immortal, which was re-
newedly presented to his view as the only object worthy of
his supreme desires. He was thus brought into great con
flict of spirit ; for his natural inclination, his lively and
active disposition, his acquired accomplishments, the respect
of his friends and acquaintance, and above all, the favor
of a fondly attached parent, combined strongly to entice
his youthful mind to embrace the glory and pleasures of
this world, then courting his acceptance. The earnest sup
plication of his soul was put up to the Lord for preserva
tion ; and He was pleased to grant him such a portion of
His holy power and Spirit, as enabled him in time to over
come all opposition, and with holy resolution to follow
Christ, whatsoever reproaches or persecutions might at
tend him.
In the year 1666, and the twenty-second of his age, his
father sent him to Ireland, to manage a considerable estate
there ; and being at Cork, and hearing that Thomas Loe,
whom he had heard preach several years before at Oxford,
was expected at a meeting in that city, he went to hear him.
Thomas began his declaration with these words : " There is
a faith that overcomes the world, and there is a faith that
is overcome of the world : " and enlarging upon it with
much clearness and energy, his living and powerful testi
mony made such impression upon William's spirit, that
under the baptizing power thereof, he was effectually con
vinced that this was the people to whom he must attach
himself; and he constantly afterwards attended the meet
ings of Friends, and was united in close fellowship with
them.

214 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1667.
The next year he was called to testify, by patient suf
fering, his faithfulness to the principles he had espoused ;
for being again at a meeting in Cork, he was apprehended,
and with eighteen others, carried before the mayor, and
committed to prison. The Earl of Orrery, however, Lord
President of the province of Munster, with whom he was
well acquainted, on William's laying his case before him
by letter, and pleading for liberty of conscience as a just
right, ordered his discharge.
And now came on another distressing conflict between
his father and himself. The former, by a letter from a
nobleman of his acquaintance in Ireland, was informed of
his son's attachment to this despised people, and promptly
sending for him home, once more earnestly endeavored to
dissuade him from a course, which seemed to him to shut
up from his son all avenues to the promotion which he de
sired for him. William deeply felt the affliction of being
obliged by his regard for his own eternal welfare, to refrain
from complying with these entreaties of an affectionate
though mistaken parent ; and in agony of spirit, when his
father threatened to disinherit him for his non-compliance,
he lifted up his heart to God, for strength to support him
in that hour of trial. When his father, finding him firmly
fixed against a general acquiescence in the customary com
pliments, seemed inclined to bear with him at length in
other respects, provided he would agree to take off his hat
in the presence of the king, the duke of York, and himself,
William, desiring, if he possibly could with a clear con
science, to comply with his father's wishes, requested time
to consider of it, and promised to retire to his chamber
until he should be prepared to return him an answer. Ac
cordingly he withdrew ; and humbling himself before God.
with fasting and supplication, to know His heavenly will,
he became so strengthened in his resolution, that returning
to his father, he signified that he could not disobey his

1668.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 215
heavenly Parent by the desired compliance. On this, his
father, utterly disappointed, and convinced that all his
endeavors to shake his son's constancy were in vain, and
accustomed to the implicit obedience of the British navy,
could no longer endure him in his sight, but again turned
him out of doors. This was indeed a severe affliction to one
of William's ardent and affectionate disposition ; but sup
ported by an inward sense of rectitude, he endured the
cross with Christian patience and magnanimity.
His father, after a time, became willing for him to return
home once more, though he did not publicly appear to
countenance him.
About the year 1668, being the twenty -fourth of his age,
he first came forth in the ministry of the Gospel, rightly
called to and qualifiecrfor that office ; being senfc of God to
teach what himself had learned of Him ; commissioned
from on high to preach to others that holy self-denial him
self had practised ; and exemplifying in his own course the
following beautiful description given by himself of the.
ministry of the early Friends.
"As God," says he, "had delivered their souls from the
wearisome burdens of sin and vanity, and enriched their
poverty of spirit, and satisfied their hunger and thirst after
eternal righteousness, and filled them with the good things
of His own house, and made them stewards of his manifold
gifts ; so they went forth to all quarters of these nations, to
declare to the inhabitants thereof what God had done for
them ; what they had found, and where and how they had
found it, viz.: the way to peace with God ; inviting them to
come, see, and taste for themselves, the truth of what they
declared." "But these experimental preachers of glad tidings of
God's truth and kingdom, could not run when they list, or
pray or preach when they pleased ; but as Christ their Re
deemer prepared and moved them by his own blessed Spirit;

216 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1668.
for which they waited in their services and meetings, and
spoke as that gave them utterance; which was as those
having authority, and not like the dreaming, dry, and for
mal Pharisees."
" And truly they waxed strong and bold through faithful
ness ; and by the power and Spirit of the Lord Jesus be
came very fruitful ; thousands, in a short time, being turned
to the truth in the inward parts through their testimony in
ministry and suffering ; many meetings were settled, and
daily there were added such as should be saved. For they
were diligent to plant and to water, and the Lord blessed
their labors with an exceeding great increase, notwithstand
ing all the opposition made to their blessed progress, by
false rumors, calumnies and bitter persecutions."
"It mayjbe said of this abused anft despised people, they
went forth weeping and sowed in tears, bearing testimony
to the precious Seed, the Seed of the kingdom, which stands
not in words, (the finest, the highest that man's wit can use,)
but in power — the power of Christ Jesus — who empowered
them, as their work witnesseth, by the many that were
turned through their ministry from darkness to the light,
and out of the broad into the narrow way of life and peace,
bringing people to a weighty, serious and godlike conver
sation." " They were changed men themselves, before they went
about to change others. Their hearts were rent, as well as
their garments ; and they knew the power and work of God
upon them. This was seen by the great alteration it made,
and their stricter course of life, and more godly conversa
tion that immediately followed it. They went not forth, or
preached in their own time or will, but in the will of God ;
and spoke not their own studied matter, but as they were
moved by His Spirit, with which they were well acquainted
in their own conversion ; which cannot be expressed to
carnal men, so as to give them any intelligible account ;

1668.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 217
for to such it is, as Christ said, like the blowing of the
wind, which no man knows, whence it cometh, or whither
it goeth. Yet this proof and seal went along with their
ministry, that many were turned from their lifeless profes
sions, and the evil of their ways, to an inward and experi
mental knowledge of God, and a holy life, as thousands
can witness. And as they freely received what they had to
say, from the Lord, so they freely administered it to others.
" The bent and stress of their ministry was conversion to
God, regeneration, and holiness. — They directed people to
a principle in themselves, though not of themselves, by
which all that they asserted might be known to them,
through experience, to be true ; which is a high and dis
tinguishing mark of the truth of their ministry, both that
they knew what they said, and were not afraid of coming
to the test. For as they were bold from certainty, so they
required conformity upon no human authority, but upon
conviction of this principle, which, they asserted, was in
them that they preached unto ; and unto that they directed
them, that they might prove the reality of those things
which they had affirmed of it, as to its manifestation and
work in man. This is more than the many ministers in
the world pretended to. They declare of religion, say
many things true, in words, of God, Christ, and the Spirit ;
of holiness, and heaven ; that all men should repent and
amend their lives, or they will go to hell, &c. But which of
them all pretend to speak of their own knowledge and experi
ence; or ever directed to a divine principle or agent, placed
of God in man, to help him ; and how to know it, and
wait to feel its power to work that good and acceptable will
of God in them ? Some of them indeed have spoken of
the Spirit, and the operations of it to sanctification, and
performance of worship to God ; but where and how to find
it, and wait in it to perform our duty to God, was yet as a
mystery to be declared by this further degree of reforma-
19

218 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1668.
tion. So that this people did not only in words, more than
equally press repentance, conversion and holiness, but did
it knowingly and experimentally ; and directed those to
whom they preached, to a sufficient principle; and told
them where it was, and by what tokens they might know it,
and which way they might experience the power and effi
cacy of it to their souls' happiness. Which is more than
theory and speculation, upon which most other ministers
depend : for here is certainty ; a bottom upon which man
may boldly appear before God in the great day of account."
In this spirit did William Penn go forth in the work of
the ministry, and many were the sufferings and trials to
which he was subjected, for his devotion to the cause which
he had so heartily espoused. Some of the remarkable
transactions of this enlightened man we shall have to re
view as we pass along.

CHAPTER XXIV.
REMARKABLE CONVERSION OF A WOMAN IMPRISONED FOR
MURDER.  DEATH OF FRANCIS HOWGILL IN PRISON.
A REMARKABLE circumstance occurred during the
imprisonment of William Bennit for conscience sake,
in Bury jail, in the year 1668.
One day, he seriously accosted a certain young woman,
who was a criminal, asking her, whether during the course
of her life she had not many times transgressed against her
conscience? and whether thereupon she had not often felt
some secret checks and inward reproofs, and been troubled
in her mind on account of the evil committed ? This he

1668.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 219
did in such a convincing way, that she not only assented to
what he laid before her ; but, her heart being reached by
his discourse, she came clearly to see, that if she had not
been so stubborn and disobedient to these inward reproofs,
she would not have come into this miserable condition.
For man not desiring the knowledge of God's ways, and
departing from Him, is left helpless, and cannot keep him
self from evil, even though it be such as he would formerly
have abhorred in the highest degree.
William thus opening matters to her, by his wholesome
admonitions so wrought upon her mind, that she who never
had conversed with the Quakers, and was altogether igno
rant of their doctrine, now came to apprehend that it was
"the grace of God which bringeth salvation," which she
had so often withstood ; and to perceive that this grace had
not yet quite forsaken her, but was now making her sensible
of the greatness of her transgression. This consideration
weighed so powerfully with her, that from a most grievous
sinner, she became a true penitent, and with hearty sorrow
she cried to the Lord, that it might please Him not to hide
his countenance. Continuing in this state of humiliation
and sincere repentance, and persevering in watching unto
prayer for the pardon of her sins, she was at length favored
with a sure hope of forgiveness, through the precious blood
of the "Immaculate Lamb," who came into the world to
save sinners, and call them to repentance, and who died also
for the sins of the world.
Of this change, graciously wrought in her by the Spirit
of Christ revealed in her heart, she gave clear evidence, at
her trial before Judge Hale ; who, having heard how peni
tent she was, wished much to save her from the capital
punishment due by the law to her offence, and accordingly
had procured the insertion in the indictment, of the words
" wilfully and designedly," hoping that thence she might
find occasion to deny the charge, and so to quash the indict-

220 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1668.
ment. But she, being as usual asked whether "Guilty or
Not Guilty?" readily answered, "Guilty." This astonished
the judge, who told her that she seemed not duly to con
sider what she said ; since it could not well be believed,
that such a one as she, who, it might be, had inconsider
ately handled her child in a rough manner, should have
wilfully and designedly killed it. Here the judge was
opening as it were a back door for her to avoid the penalty
of death. But now, the fear of God had obtained so much
room in her heart, that no tampering would do — no fig-
leaves could be made use of for a cover— she knew that
this would have been adding sin to sin, and covering her
self with a covering but not of God's Spirit. She therefore
plainly acknowledged to the court, that she had indeed
committed this wicked act intentionally ; adding, that
"having sinned thus grievously, and being now affected
with true repentance, she could by no means excuse herself,
but was willing to undergo the punishment the law required.
She could not therefore but acknowledge herself guilty,
since otherwise how could she expect forgiveness from the
Lord?" This undisguised and free confession, spoken with a se
rious countenance and demeanor, so affected Judge Hale,
that with tears trickling down his face, he sorrowfully said,
"Woman, such a case as this I never met with before.
Perhaps you, who are but young, and speak so piously, as
being struck to the heart with repentance, might yet do
much good in the world. But now you force me, that ex
officio I must pronounce sentence of death against you, since
you will admit of no excuse." Standing to what she had
said, the judge then pronounced the sentence of death.
When afterwards she came to the place of execution,
she made a pathetic speech to the people, exhorting the
spectators, especially those who were young, to have the
fear of God before their eyes, to give heed to His secret

1668.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 221
reproofs for evil, and so not to grieve and resist the good
Spirit of the Lord : she not having timely attended to this,
had run on in evil, and thus proceeding from one wicked
ness to another, had brought herself to this dismal exit.
But since she firmly trusted in God's infinite mercy, nay
surely believed that her sins, though of a bloody dye, were
washed off by the pure blood of Christ, her Redeemer, she
could contentedly depart this life. Thus she preached at
the gallows, a doctrine very consonant with the views of
the people called Quakers, and gave heart-melting proofs
that her immortal soul was to enter into paradise, as well
as in ancient days that of the thief on the cross.
This year, died Francis Howgill, a prisoner for the cause
of Truth, in Appleby jail. He had been imprisoned in the
year 1663, and the next year sentenced under premunire, to
be confined during his life, and his property confiscated to
the king ; without any other crime being found against
him, than that he could not transgress the command of his
Divine Master, to " swear not at all," nor bind himself by
any agreement to forsake the assembling together with his
Friends for the worship of Almighty God, in spirit and in
truth. "Hard sentence," he remarked to the court, "for
obeying the command of Christ : but I am content and in
perfect peace with the Lord ; and the Lord forgive you
all — it is for Christ's sake I suffer, and not for evil doing."
Being by this sentence " put out of the king's protection,"
he was remanded to the prison where he first suffered for his
righteous testimony, and remained there until released by
death, towards the end of the year 1668, after an illness of
nine days.
During his long imprisonment in this filthy jail, he
evinced the peaceful condition of his soul, by great patience
and resignation to all his sufferings ; and his outward losses
were abundantly compensated by that inward consolation
which the Lord alone can bestow. As he approached the
19*

222 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1668.
close of life, having passed the time of his sojourning here
in fear, he met his change with great serenity, and felt the
sting of death to be taken away. He said he was content
and ready to die — praised the Almighty for the many
sweet enjoyments and refreshing seasons, wherewith he had
been favored, while lying on that prison-bed, — and freely
forgave all who had had a hand in his restraint. To his wife
and others, two days before his death, he gave a message of
his dear love to his friends, adding, "As for me, I am well,
and content to die — I am not afraid at all of death."
And the mayor of Appleby visiting him, and some persons
present, praying that God might speak peace to his soul, he
answered emphatically, "He hath done it."
A few hours before he departed, some friends from a dis
tance came to visit him in his prison. He inquired after
their welfare, and prayed fervently, "that the Lord by his
mighty power might preserve them out of all such things
as would spot and defile." His voice soon afterwards failed
through weakness ; but recovering, he said, " I have sought
the way of the Lord from a child, and lived innocently
among men ; and if any inquire concerning my latter end,
let them know, that I die in the faith which I have lived
in and suffered for." After this, he uttered a few words in
prayer, and so finished his earthly course in perfect peace,
in the fiftieth year of his age. Conspicuous for his virtues,
and the innocence and integrity of his life, the malicious
efforts of his enemies were unable to sully his reputation ;
he was generally respected and esteemed by those who knew
him, even though not of his religious persuasion ; his suf
ferings were commiserated, and the unmerited cruelty of
his persecutors justly condemned.

1668.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 223

CHAPTER XXV.
MEETINGS FOR DISCIPLINE INSTITUTED IN THE SOCIETY. —
GEORGE FOX GOES TO AMERICA — AND RETURNING, IS
IMPRISONED AT WORCESTER.
IT was about this time that the Society of Friends assumed
the form of a more regularly organized body, under the
advice of George Fox and those deeply experienced men and
women who felt and labored with him, by the institution of
meetings held periodically, for the good ordering of the
affairs of the church. It will therefore be appropriate in
this part of our history, to consider briefly the steps by which
this important and highly useful feature was gradually
introduced. Many of the early members of the Society were poor as to
this world's goods, though rich in faith ; and the constant
persecutions to which for many years they were subjected,
reduced many of them to great destitution. But brotherly
kindness abounded. Those who possessed pecuniary means
remembered to do good and to communicate; they dared
not esteem all that they possessed as exclusively their
own; but felt bound to use it freely, in relieving with a
noble liberality the necessities of their suffering brethren,
remembering that they were all members of one body,
" striving together for the faith of the gospel," and when one
member suffered, all the members must suffer with it. This
feeling being general, and the necessities of families deprived
of their means of subsistence by the imprisonment of one or
both of the heads being often pressing, the propriety of meet
ing together occasionally, to consider the circumstances of

224 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1668
such, became apparent ; and hence the first meetings for the
affairs of the church had their origin. In the accomplish
ment of their marriages also, they could not conscientiously
follow the practice, either of those on the one hand, who,
forgetting the religious nature of the compact, and consider
ing it as a merely civil act, were accustomed to accomplish
it before a magistrate ; or on the other, of those who called
in the assistance of a hireling ministry, and thus sanctioned
an interference with the prerogative of the Lord alone to
join persons in that solemn covenant. They were thus led
to the performance of their marriages among themselves:
and remembering the apostolic advice, that " all things be
done decently and in order," they were especially careful
in this solemn undertaking, that no cause of offence should
be given, either by any appearance of secrecy in the manner
of accomplishing it, or by joining persons already entangled
in other engagements, or so nearly related as to render such
connection improper. In connection also with this subject,
was the due recording of births and deaths, taken care of
by these early meetings for business.
Strict integrity and uprightness was one of the first fruits
of that spirit by which our early Friends were led to forsake
the ways of a corrupt world. They considered the prevail
ing standard much below the morality required by the
Gospel ; and regulating their conduct towards their fellow-
man by the rule laid down by our blessed Saviour, " What
soever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so
to them ; " their truthfulness and honesty drew upon them
the observation of their neighbors. George Fox was anxious
that all should walk consistently with the high character
the Society had obtained, and not be induced to extend their
business improperly, or promote their worldly advantage by
unfair means. Several of his early epistles recommended
well-concerned Friends to watch over their brethren in love •
and many of his. fellow-laborers earnestly endeavored to

1668.J THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 225
promote that Christian moderation which avoids rather than
seeks riches, as well as the exercise of caution in contracting,
and promptness in paying debts.
The care also of granting certificates to those who travelled
in the work of the ministry, testifying the unity of their
Friends at home with their so doing; and for those who
removed to settle within other monthly meetings ; the
religious education of the youth, which was a subject very
near the heart of George Fox, as vitally affecting the pro
gressive welfare of the Society ; the purchase and care of
burial-grounds, where the deceased members might be
interred, free from the officious interference of the priests,
and away from the crowd of costly and pompous monuments,
which they considered inconsistent with the profession of a
Christian, and designed to gratify the pride of survivors; —
these were among the subjects which early engaged the
attention of those gatherings of the church, which George
Fox had seen it right to recommend to his Friends to estab
lish, for the regulation of their common affairs. And last,
though not least in importance, the, preservation of the con
duct of the members clear from inconsistencies and stains,
and breaches of those testimonies which they were as a body
holding forth before the world, rendered the necessity
obvious, as the Society rapidly increased in numbers, that
some mode of church government should be instituted, by
which the conduct of the members might be inspected and
restrained. George Fox considered the church as a har
monious and compact body, made up of living members,
having gifts differing according to the measure of grace
received, yet all dependent one on another, and each, even
the weakest and lowest, having his proper place and service :
and as the very design of religious society is the preserva
tion, comfort, and edification of the members, and all have
a common interest herein, so he considered every faithful
member religiously bound to contribute, according to his

226 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1668.
capacity, toward this attainment. Our Lord himself laid
down a rule for the observance of his church, in the treat
ment of those who should commit offences. " If thy brother
shall trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between
thee and him alone. If he shall hear thee, thou hast gained
thy brother. But if he will not hear thee, then take with
thee one or two more ; that in the mouth of two or three
witnesses, every word may be established. And if he shall
neglect to hear them, tell it to the church ; but if he neglect
to hear the church, let him be unto thee as an heathen man
and a publican." And the apostle Paul, in writing to the
Galatians, thus exhorts them : " Brethren, if a man be over
taken in a fault, ye who are spiritual, restore such an one in
the spirit of meekness ; considering thyself, lest thou also be
tempted." These injunctions were the fundamental princi
ples of the discipline established by the Society of Friends,
simple, beautiful, and when fully carried out in practice,
often efficient, under the influence of the Holy Spirit, in
reclaiming the wanderer from the fold.
The first General Meeting of the Society was perhaps that
held at Balby, in Yorkshire, in 1656, which issued certain
wholesome advices. Quarterly Meetings were soon after
wards established, which appear to have exercised much the
same functions as our Monthly Meetings now have. In the
year 1668, the Monthly Meetings were generally settled
through England. The same year there was a General
Meeting held in London, from which an epistle was issued
to the Society ; and in 1672, another General Meeting of
ministers, held also in London, at which it was agreed that
a representative General Meeting should be annually held
in London, " for the better ordering, managing, and regulat
ing of the public affairs of Friends." The Representative
Yearly Meeting, however, which met in the succeeding year,
concluded to leave the management of these affairs, and the
general care of the church, for the present, in the hands of

KG9.J THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 227
the annual General Meeting of Ministers ; and it was not
till the year 1678, that they were again convened at the
suggestion of the latter meeting. Monthly Meetings m
some parts of America, were established about the year 1669 ;
and a Yearly Meeting was held in Rhode Island, for the
Society in New England, in 1671, if not a year or two pre
viously. Other Yearly Meetings were subsequently estab
lished in the North American colonies, as the increase of the
Society rendered it necessary.
The Society has now for many years been thus organized.
The members residing at convenient distances from each
other, whether composing one particular meeting for worship,
or more than one, united to form a " Monthly Meeting," for
the transaction of the affairs of the church, composed of one
or more subordinate or " Preparative " meetings, in which
some portions of the business were prepared for the action of
the former body. Several of these monthly meetings united,
formed a " Quarterly" meeting, to which representatives were
sent from each of the constituent monthly meetings ; and
again the quarterly meetings situated in a particular country
or state, or in contiguous states, formed a " Yearly " meeting.
These yearly meetings were the highest assemblies known
to the Society, and only amenable to the judgment of Truth
in the body at large, as a part of the great brotherhood of
the church.
Besides the above, there are Monthly or Preparative,
Quarterly and Yearly Meetings ofthe Ministers and Elders,
in connection with the respective meetings for discipline.
These " select meetings " are designed to be composed of such
ministers as, having given proof of a divine gift for the
ministry, have been officially recognized in that capacity by
their Friends, and of elders appointed to watch over the
ministry particularly, and generally over the flock. Besides
the elders, there are overseers appointed in each Monthly
Meeting, to take a more special charge of the conduct of the

228 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1671.
members, and to see that all walk orderly, according to their
Christian profession.
It early appeared to the clear and comprehensive mind
of George Fox, that advantage would arise to the body, from
the concerns of the female members being attended to by
their own sex : and accordingly, women's meetings for dis
cipline were recommended by him to be held in the same
manner as those for the men, to whom they might be help
meets, in the restoration of offenders, in the care of their own
poor, and in other affairs of the church, as they are outwardly
in civil and temporal things. They were instituted soon
after those for the men, and served to complete that system
of order and government, in which a field was opened for
the exercise of the various gifts by which the church, the
body of Christ, is edified.
A new field of operation now opened before the expansive
mind of that remarkable man, who was so eminent an instru
ment in the good work which we have just contemplated.
George Fox's wife had lain for several years in prison,
under a sentence of premunire ; but was finally released in
1671 ; and shortly afterwards, George finding it laid upon
him to visit the churches beyond the Atlantic, took leave
of her and his numerous other friends in England, and sailed
in company with several Friends for Barbadoes. Two
remarkable interpositions of the protecting care of Divine
Providence attended him during this voyage. The ship was
chased by a Sallee * man-of-war, when about three weeks at
sea, and seemed to have no way of escape from her. She
gained rapidly upon them, though they altered their course
with the hope of eluding her pursuit. At night the captain
and others came into George Fox's cabin, asking him "what
* Sallee, or Sale', a town on the coast of Morocco, about halfway
between Cape Blanco and Tangier, noted for the boldness of its
pirates, but now much in ruins.

1671.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 229
they must do?" He told them, "he was no mariner."
They said, "there were but two ways of escape — either to
outrun the enemy, or to tack about." George replied, that
" they might be sure the enemy would tack about too ; and
as for outrunning him, it was to no purpose to talk of that,
for they saw he sailed faster than they did." They asked
him again, in consternation and perplexity, "what they
should do ? for," they added, " if the mariners had taken
Paul's counsel, they had not come to the damage they did."
George answered them, that " it was a trial of faith, and
therefore the Lord was to be waited on for counsel ; " and
retiring, himself, in spirit unto the Almighty, the Lord
showed him " that His divine life and power was placed
between them and the ship that pursued them." He told
this to the captain, desiring that all the lights, except the
one used to steer by, should be put out, and that all should
remain very quiet. About eleven o'clock at night, the man
on watch called out that the enemy was just upon them ;
which alarmed some of the passengers. George looking out
of the port-hole of his cabin, by the light of the moon, which
had not quite set, saw them very near the vessel ; and was
getting up to go on deck ; but remembering the Lord's word,
which had been whispered into his mental ear, " that His
life and power was placed between them," he quietly lay
down again, and awaited the result in faith. In a little
time, the moon went down, a fresh breeze arose, the Lord
hid them from the enemy, and they sailed briskly on, and
saw them no more. The next day, being the First-day of
the week, Friends had a public meeting for worship on board,
in which the Divine presence was eminently felt : and George
Fox exhorted the ship's company " to mind the mercies of
the Lord, who had delivered them ; for they might all have
been by that time in the hands of the Turks, had not the
Lord's hand saved them." It afterwards appeared, by the
testimony of a merchant who arrived in Barbadoes from the
20

230 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1671.
port to which this piratical vessel belonged, that its captain
had been struck with the remarkable deliverance of their
ship out of his hands, when he thought himself sure of the
prize, and acknowledged his belief that " there was a spirit
in her which he could not take."
Soon after George Fox's arrival in Barbadoes, he was
informed of the death of a young man who had imbibed an
implacable enmity against him, and meditated his destruc
tion. This young man , a person of some worldly account, but
a common swearer and very bad man, when in London some
time before, had addressed the daughter of a Friend in order
to marriage, having an eye to her property. George being
one of her guardians, had plainly told him that " he should
betray the trust reposed in him, if he should consent that
he, who was out of the fear of God, should marry her ; and
that he would not. do it." The young man returned to Bar
badoes greatly incensed, and afterwards, hearing that George
was likely soon to arrive in the island, he swore desperately,
and threatened that " if he could possibly procure it, he
would have him burned to death when he came there."
Repeating this threat to a Friend, who was expostulating
with him, the latter warned him : " Do not march on too
furiously, lest thou come too soon to thy journey's end."
About ten days after this, he was struck with a violent
burning fever, of which he died, and was carried to the grave
three days before George arrived in the island.
The constitution of this indefatigable laborer in the
Lord's vineyard had been much shattered by the severe
sufferings he had undergone for many years in the service
of truth ; so that the voyage greatly affected him, and he
was, for many weeks after his arrival, laid up with severe
illness. But being favored at length with a recovery, he
was diligent in strengthening the Society in that distant
part, and building them up in comely gospel order. Here
also, in conjunction with some other Friends, he drew up

1672.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 231
an address to the governor and council of Barbadoes, set
ting forth, in the name of the Society, their true Christian
belief in the divinity and atonement of our Lord and
Saviour Jesus Christ, and in the divine inspiration of the
Holy Scriptures ; and vindicating Friends from the mali
cious charge, which some had brought against them, of
teaching the negroes to rebel, because they felt it to be their
Christian duty to treat them kindly, to give them instruc
tion, and to hold meetings with them for divine worship
and religious edification.
Having remained in Barbadoes about three months,
George Fox, William Edmundson, Elizabeth Hooton, and
some other Friends, departed to Jamaica, where they trav
elled up and down the island, and had much service.
Many were convinced of the truth of their principles, and
they met with no opposition. Here Elizabeth Hooton, who
had received a gift in the ministry as early as 1650, and
was consequently the first female minister raised up among
Friends, peacefully laid down the body, and departed to
her heavenly rest.
George Fox, William Edmundson, and Robert Widders,
having spent about seven weeks in Jamaica, embarked for
Maryland. They had a very tempestuous voyage, and ran
short of provisions ; but through the goodness of the Lord,
in whose protecting cafe they trusted, they were favored to
arrive safely. A vessel which sailed in company with them,
the captain of which had offered to convey the Friends to
Maryland, but demanded an exorbitant price for their pas
sage, fell among the Spaniards ; by whom she was taken
and plundered, and the master and mate were made
prisoners. Near the place where they landed, they held several
meetings with Friends, and with the native Indians of the
country ; and then George Fox and his companions trav
elled through the woods to Newcastle on the Delaware,

232 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1672.
crossed that river in canoes, with great risk to their lives,
and dived into the forests of what is now called New Jer
sey ; but which was then inhabited only by Indians. They
had a wilderness journey, sometimes lying at nights in the
woods by a fire, and at other times in the Indians' wigwams.
They hastened to be at the half-yearly meeting of Friends
at Oyster Bay, on Long Island; where they labored success
fully for the establishment of wholesome discipline in the
church, to the exposing and confounding of some ranting
spirits, who had " run out from truth into prejudice, con
tention, and opposition to the order of Truth, and to
Friends therein." These, 'George Fox says, "had been
very troublesome to Friends — but I would not suffer the
service of our men's and women's meetings to be interrupted
and hindered by their cavils." A subsequent meeting was
appointed for a conference with these opposers, at which, he
adds, " the glorious truth of God was exalted and set over
all, and they were all brought down and bowed under;
which was of great service to truth, and satisfaction and
comfort to Friends ; Glory to the Lord forever."
Thence they proceeded by sea to Rhode Island ; and at
tended the Yearly Meeting for New England; in which
also George Fox was much concerned for the establishment
of meetings for discipline, " that all might be kept clean,"
and "to take care of the poor, arfd other affairs of the
church ; and to see, that all who profess truth, walk accord
ing to the glorious gospel of God." He was very gladly
received by the people generally in Rhode Island and the
parts adjacent ; but finding they began to talk of hiring him
to be their minister, not understanding the principles of
Friends, he told some, that " it was time for him to be gone ;
for if their eye was so much to him, or any of his companions,
they would not come to their own Teacher," even Christ
Jesus, the Minister of ministers. He accordingly departed
to Shelter Island, had some good meetings there with the

1672.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 233
white inhabitants and with the native Indians ; then returned
to Long Island ; and afterwards crossed to New Jersey again.
They rode thirty miles through the woods and over very bad
bogs, the descent into one of which was so steep, that they
had to slide down with their horses, and then let them lie to
take breath, before they could proceed. Among Friends in
New Jersey, who, it seems, were principally about Shrews
bury, he was again instrumental in promoting the establish
ment of men's and women's meetings for the discipline of the
church, " to see that all who profess the holy truth, live in
the pure religion, and walk as becometh the gospel."
While they were at Shrewsbury, an accident occurred,
which was near proving fatal to one of their company. John
Jay, a Friend of Barbadoes, who had accompanied them
from Rhode Island, and was escorting them through the
woods to Maryland, was thrown from a horse, and supposed
to have " broken his neck." He was taken up as dead, and
laid upon a log. George Fox got to him as soon as he
could, and feeling him, concluded he was really dead : but
as he stood by him, pitying him and his family, he found
his neck was so limber, that his head would turn any way.
Whereupon, he took the Friend's head in both his hands,
and setting his knees against the log, he raised the head with
all his might, and restored it to its place. The dislocation
of the neck being thus reduced, he soon began to breathe ;
and other measures being taken for his restoration, he quickly
recovered, so as to be able to resume his journey with them
the next day.
They now had a long and dreary wilderness journey again
to encounter, across New Jersey and down towards the
Delaware Bay. Philadelphia was not in existence, and they
met with few except Indians, had many rivers to cross, were
often very wet with exposure to storms, and had to lie
generally in the woods at night. This autumn and much
of the ensuing winter, they spent in travelling through
20*

234 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1673.
Maryland, Virginia, and some parts of Carolina; and
towards the spring of 1673, " having," as Geo. Fox expresses
it, "alarmed people of all sorts where they came, and pro
claimed the day of God's salvation amongst them, they found
their spirits began to be clear of those parts of the world,
and to draw towards Old England again." Accordingly,
after attending the general meeting of Friends for Maryland,
which " was a wonderful, glorious meeting, and the mighty
presence of the Lord was seen and felt over all," George and
his companions took leave of their Friends in great tender
ness, and sailed for England ; where, after a prosperous
voyage, they were favored to arrive in safety, on the 28th
of the Fourth month, 1673.
This indefatigable servant of Christ had not been long
returned to his native land, before he was called to suffer a
long and hard imprisonment, for preaching at a religious
meeting in Worcestershire. He was sentenced under pre-
munire to imprisonment for life. Interest was made by some
to the king to get him released ; but he knowing his inno
cence, would not accept of a pardon, which was the only way
in which the king could release him. As the acceptance of
this would have implied a confession of guilt, George Fox
declared that he would rather have lain in prison all his
days, than come out in any way dishonorable to the truth ;
and therefore, knowing that his imprisonment was not only
unjust but illegal also, he chose to have the validity of his
indictment tried before Judge Hale ; who released him by
proclamation, after having been a prisoner nearly fourteen
months. He was thus fairly set at liberty without any
pardon, or coming under any engagement or obligation to
compromise his principles.

1670.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 235

CHAPTER XXVI.
THE TRIAL OF WILLIAM PENN AND WILLIAM MEAD AT THE
OLD BAILEY  DESTRUCTION OF FRIENDS' MEETING
HOUSES.
AN Act of Parliament, called the Conventicle Act, was
passed in the year 1670, the intent of which was to
suppress all meetings for divine worship except those of the
established form of religion, particularly those of the Pres
byterians, who were obnoxious to the court; though its
force fell principally upon Friends, who stood most exposed
to its action, from their well-known practice of standing
firmly for their principles, and not flinching from suffering
for the cause of their Divine Master.
The zeal of the magistrates of London in carrying into
effect this oppressive law, and the noble intrepidity of Wil
liam Penn in defence of his inalienable rights, brought
about this year one of the most memorable judicial trials
in English history ; which did more to promote clear views
of the liberty of conscience, and to establish the great
privilege of trial by jury on its just foundation, than per
haps was ever effected by the personal exertions of any
other man. Its importance will warrant our pursuing it in
some of its details.
Friends being forcibly kept out of their meeting-houses
in Gracechurch street, found themselves constrained to meet
as near the premises as practicable ; and accordingly held
their meeting in the open street, as a public testimony of
their allegiance to the God of the spirits of all flesh. Wil
liam Penn was one of the number thus assembled, and
addressing the people in the love and authority of the Gos
pel, he and William Mead were apprehended and com-

236 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1670.
mitted to Newgate prison ; and at the next sessions at the
Old Bailey were indicted for " being present at, and preach
ing to, an unlawful, seditious, and riotous assembly."
The indictment set forth, that William Penn and Wil
liam Mead, with other persons to the number of three hun
dred, on the 15th of August, with force and arms tumultu-
ously assembled, and that William Penn, by agreement
between him and William Mead, had preached there in
the public street, whereby was caused a great concourse of
people, to the great disturbance of the peace, and terror of
the king's subjects. To thi3 indictment they both pleaded
'' not guilty ; " after which they were detained in court five
hours, waiting for the trial of some felons, and then re
turned to Newgate prison. Two days after, they were
brought up again ; when the court more openly manifested
a preconcerted design to treat them with the utmost severity,
and take every unfair advantage against them ; although
they had before promised William Penn on his urgent
remonstrance, that no advantage should be taken of them,
but that they should have liberty to be heard in their own
defence. On this occasion, coming into court, the officers
had taken off the hats of the prisoners ; but the mayor
sharply reproved their officiousness, as it did not suit his
present intentions, and ordered their hats to be replaced ;
and when they thus appeared in the court covered, they
were fined for it forty marks apiece, the injustice of which
was particularly evident in William Mead's case, inasmuch
as he had not even been spoken to by the court on the sub
ject. The jury were desired to take notice of this arbi
trary act: after which three witnesses deposed that they
saw William Penn speaking to the people assembled in
great numbers in the street ; but they could not hear what
he said. William Penn, to this, after requesting silence in
the court, addressed them thus: "We confess ourselves to
be so far from declining to vindicate the assembling of our-

1670.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 237
selves, to preach, pray, or worship the eternal, holy, just
God, that we declare to all the world, that we do believe it
to be our indispensable duty to meet incessantly upon so
good an account ; nor shall all the powers upon earth be
able to divert us from reverencing and adoring our God,
who made us." One of the sheriffs told . him he was not
there for worshipping God, but for breaking the law ;
though they had made the act of worshipping according
to conscience, a breach of the law. William Penn denied
having broken any law, or of being guilty of the indict
ment, and demanded to be informed by what law he was
prosecuted, that the jury might understand on what ground
they were asked to give a verdict. The recorder answered,
"upon the common law;" to which William Penn desired
that the law might be produced ; which was declined ; and
he still persisting in demanding it, as otherwise it would
be impossible for the jury to determine their verdict
clearly, the recorder suffered his passion to carry him be
yond the bounds of decency, and freely lavished on Wil
liam Penn, the epithets of a "saucy, impertinent, trouble
some, and pestilent fellow," — and told him it was not for
the honor of the court to allow him to go on. William
Penn remarked, " I have asked but one question, and you
have not answered me ; though the rights and privileges of
every Englishman be concerned in it." The recorder re
plied, " If I should suffer you to ask questions till to-mor
row morning, you would be never the wiser;" to which
William Penn promptly rejoined, "That is according as
the answers are." The recorder said : " Sir, we must not
stand to hear you talk all night." William Penn then ob
served : " I design no affront to the court ; but to be heard
in my just plea ; and I must plainly tell you, that if you
will deny me the 'oyer' [hearing] of that law which you
suggest I have broken, you do at once deny me an acknowl
edged right, and evidence to the whole world your resolu-

238 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1670.
tion to sacrifice the privileges of Englishmen to your sinister
and arbitrary designs." And going on in earnest expostu
lation with the court on the arbitrary nature of their pro
ceedings, and showing how the dearest social rights of man,
guaranteed to Englishmen by their ancient fundamental
laws, were thus invaded, he was rudely ordered to " be
silent, there ! " and sent into the bail-dock. William Mead
followed his companion in pleading for their privilege to
be informed of the law under which they were indicted,
and told the jury he stood there to answer an indictment
which Avas full of lies and falsehoods, for therein he was
accused of meeting with force and arms, unlawfully and
tumultuously ; and boldly claiming his rights as an English
man, he was told by the Lord Mayor that he deserved to
have his tongue cut out, and he was also taken aside into
the bail-dock.
The recorder then proceeded to charge the jury, urging
them, at their peril, to attend to the evidence that had been
produced against the prisoners. But William Penn, who
from a distance heard what was going on in the court,
raised himself up by the rails of the bail-dock, and with
a loud voice thus remonstrated against this unjust proceed
ing : " I appeal to the jury, who are my judges, and this
great assembly, whether the proceedings of the court are
not most arbitrary, and void of all law, in offering to give
the jury their charge in the absence of the prisoners. I
say, it is directly opposite to, and destructive of the un
doubted right of every English prisoner ; " referring to
Coke on Magna Charta. He added that the jury could not
legally leave the court before he had been fully heard, and
that he had at least ten or twelve material points to offer,
in order to invalidate the indictment. But the recorder
cried out, " Pull that fellow down — pull him down ! Take
them away into the hole;" and they were accordingly
thrust into a noisome hole, and detained there, while the
jury went up to agree on their verdict.

1670.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 239
After staying about an hour and a half, eight of them
came down agreed ; but four being dissatisfied, remained
above. The bench was highly provoked that these jury
men should obstruct their designs ; and using many threats
against them, very unbecoming the seat of justice, sent
them back to consider their verdict. After some time,
returning to the court, they rendered a verdict against
William Penn, of "guilty of speaking in Grace-church
street," and declared William Mead " not guilty." This
the court refused to accept, and insidiously endeavored to
extort expressions from some of the jurymen, to procure a
verdict more to their purpose ; as " that William Penn was
speaking to an unlawful assembly : " but several of them
firmly refused to admit any alteration in the verdict to
which they had agreed. The court thereupon repeated
their abusive language towards them, and sent them away
again to bring in a verdict more to their mind. On their
return, they produced a verdict in writing, to the same
effect as before, signed by the whole jury ; at which the
Lord Mayor and recorder fell into a great rage, and the
latter swore that they would have a verdict, or the jury
should starve for it ; telling them they should be locked
up, without meat, drink, fire, or tobacco.
This drew the following remonstrance from William
Penn : " My jury, who are my judges, ought not to be thus
menaced. Their verdict should be free, and not compelled.
The bench ought to wait upon them, but not forestall them.
I do desire that justice may be done me, and that the arbi
trary resolves of the bench may not be made the measure
of my jury's verdict."
" Stop that prating fellow's mouth," cried the recorder,
" or put him out of the court." And the lord mayor telling
the jury " that William Penn had gathered a company of
tumultuous people," William Penn replied, " It is a mis
take ; we did not make the tumult, but they that inter-

240 HISTOEICAL MEMOIRS OF [1670.
rupted us ; the jury cannot be so ignorant as to think we
met with a design to disturb the civil peace. We were
with force of arms kept out of our lawful house, and met
as near it in the street as the soldiers would give us leave.
It is no new thing, nor with the circumstances expressed in
the indictment ; but what was usual with us. It is very
well known that we are a peaceable people, and cannot
offer violence to any man." He then insisted that the
agreement of twelve men is a verdict ; requiring the clerk
to record it ; and addressing himself to the jury, said,
" You are Englishmen — mind your privileges — give not
away your right." To which some of them replied, " Nor
will we ever do it."
The prisoners were now remanded to prison, and the
jury shut up all night in their room without fire, food, or
any accommodations.
The next morning, which was the First-day of the week,
the court resumed its sitting, and the jury being called,
declared they could give no other verdict than that which
they had already agreed on ; which answer occasioned the
magistrates again to burst forth with rage and disappoint
ment, and endeavors to browbeat and intimidate them into
a compliance with their wishes. William Penn inquired
whether the jury's finding William Mead "not guilty" was
not a verdict ? But the recorder would not admit it.
Again were the jury remanded to their room, and again
they returned with the same verdict as before ; on which
the lord mayor, transported with anger, and referring to
one of the jurors whom the recorder had singled out as the
most obnoxious, exclaimed, " Have you no more wit, than
to be led by such a pitiful fellow ? I will cut his nose ! "
And William Penn protesting against his jury being thus
illegally threatened, the recorder said to the mayor, " My
lord, you must take a course with that same fellow ; " at
which the lord mayor cried out, " Stop his mouth ! Jailer,

1670.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 241
bring fetters, and stake him to the ground." — "Do your
pleasure," calmly observed William Penn ; " I matter not
your fetters."
The jury, after considerable discussion, were once more
shut up for the night; and the next morning being called upon
for their verdict, unanimously brought both the prisoners
in " not guilty," to the disappointment and chagrin of the
bench, but to the great satisfaction of the large assembly
of the people who had witnessed these arbitrary proceed
ings. The recorder immediately fined each of the jurors
forty marks, with imprisonment till paid, for venturing to
bring in a verdict so contrary to the views of the court ;
and maliciously detained the prisoners for the fine, for
coming into the court at first with their hats on, though he
was reminded that the great charter of English liberties
declared that " no free man should be amerced but by the
oath of good and lawful men of the vicinage ; " whereas
they had not had even the form of an examination on this
matter. The jury remained some time in prison, and were
at length released by a lucid decision of Judge Vaughan,
having by writ of habeas corpus procured the hearing of
their case in the court of Common Pleas. And thus ended
this famous trial, which, from the firm stand taken by the
prisoners and the jury, and two full statements of it ap
pearing soon after in print, aroused the attention of the .
people of England to the arbitrary and oppressive proceed
ings of the courts, by which the benefits of the trial by jury
were sought to be invaded, and the most flagrant violations
of justice were practised with impunity.
William Penn's father, who had become reconciled to
his son's change, now feeling himself drawing near to the
close of life, was very desirous of the company of his son
in his last hours; and contrary to William's express desire,
sent to the prison, and paid the fine for which he was de
tained. He lived only eleven days after the termination
21

242 HISTORICAL MEMOIES OF [1670.
of the trial ; and before his close, addressed his son in the
following memorable language.
" Son William, if you and your friends keep to your
plain way of preaching, and keep to your plain way of
living, you will make an end of the priests, to the end of
the world. Let nothing in the world tempt you to wrong
your conscience ; I charge you, do nothing against your
conscience ; so you will keep peace at home, which will be
a feast to you in the day of trouble ; " — a remarkable
testimony from one who had formerly stoutly opposed the
very course, which he now, at the verge of the grave, so
solemnly recommended.
The violence of those who were bent on exterminating
the Society of Friends showed itself this year, among
many other shameful acts, in the destruction of two meet
ing-houses of that people in the suburbs of London. And
what made the deed still more to be regretted, was that it
was sanctioned by the king and privy-council.
The meeting-house at Horslydown in Southwark was
first attacked. A party of soldiers had twice broken in
upon the peaceful assembly, met there to wait upon theii
Maker ; and having forced those present out of the house,
had endeavored to disperse them by riding among them,
and had wounded several. But on the 20th of the month
called August, a party of soldiers with carpenters and
others, came and pulled the house down, carried away the
benches, windows, and boards, and sold them. The next
day being First-day, the Friends came as usual to meeting,
but had to meet on the rubbish of their demolished house.
The soldiers denied them even this privilege, and dragged
them into the street ; and the captain ordering his men to
knock their brains out, they pulled and dragged them from
the place, and lodged them in prison without warrant from
any civil magistrate. For nearly three months, did the
soldiers continue to persecute the Friends who attended

1670.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 243
this meeting; beating men and women in an outrageous
manner with their muskets and pikes, and endeavoring
by provoking their horses, to ride furiously over them.
Friends keeping faithfully to their meeting, exasperated
them still more. One of them provided himself with a
shovel, and threw the dirt from the gutters shamefully
over men and women promiscuously. After him advanced
both horse and foot soldiers in a furious onset, dealing about
their blows, and knocking down all before them without
regard to sex or age, to the shedding of the blood of many.
On various occasions, twenty, thirty, and fifty individuals
were sorely wounded at one time. But at length the civil
authorities were aroused to the enormity of these flagrant
breaches of the peace, and put a tardy stop to them.
The proceedings at Ratcliff meeting-house were of a
similar character, though not attended with so much per
sonal outrage. A few days after the destruction of the
Horslydown meeting-house, the lieutenant of the Tower
came with a party of soldiers, and caused the building to
be demolished. Twelve cart-loads of doors, windows, and
floors, with other materials, were carried away ; and some
of the materials were sold on the spot for money and strong
drink. Friends here also continued to meet on the ruins
of their meeting-house, or as near thereto as the constables
and other officers present would permit ; but many of them
were seized, fined, and committed to prison.

244 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1675.

CHAPTER XXVII.
THE SEPARATION OF WILKINSON AND STORY ; AND THE
HERESY OF JEFFERY BULLOCK.
THE Spirit of Truth by which our Friends professed to
be guided, was abundantly able to preserve the sincere
and obedient and persevering followers thereof from all the
wiles of the enemy. But when any slackened in watchful
ness, and gave no longer unremitting heed to its monitions,
it was no marvel that they were suffered to become en
tangled in the mazes of error. They had practically aban
doned the ground of their profession, though they might
still pertinaciously adhere to it in words ; and having there
fore only themselves to blame for the bitter fruits of their
unfaithfulness, the integrity of the principles remained
unshaken, and the Society pursued the even tenor of its way.
About the year 1675, a spirit of dissatisfaction crept into
the minds of some members in the north of England ; who
giving themselves up to a headstrong spirit of party, op
posed the wholesome discipline which had been established
by the body, and particularly the institution of women's
meetings. John Wilkinson and John Story were at the
head of this disaffected party, and by plausible insinuations
engaged in their favor a considerable number of persons of
weak minds and strong wills, who from one cause or
another had imbibed disgust and unsettlement. They in
veighed severely against George Fox, who had been a prom
inent instrument in establishing the discipline, and they
endeavored to introduce the fallacious doctrine, that inas
much as the Divine Spirit was given to every man to guide
him aright, any attempt by rules and laws to introduce

1675.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 245
order into the Society, was a departure from that principle,
and an imposition on their gospel liberty. Wilkinson and
Story had been in the station of ministers : but beginning
to thirst after pre-eminence, and to look for greater defer
ence from their fellow-members than the most sensible of
their brethren thought it right to pay them, they became
restive under the admonitions and warnings which these
believed themselves called upon to extend, in gospel solici
tude for their welfare, and for the integrity of the church.
The Quarterly Meeting of Westmoreland, to which they
belonged, observing with pain the dangerous tendency of
their proceedings, used Christian efforts to reclaim them,
but without success ; and in order to prevent, if possible,
an open breach, concluded to refer the case to the judg
ment of impartial and disinterested Friends of the neigh
boring counties. Accordingly six of the most judicious
and eminent Friends of Cumberland, and several from
Yorkshire, went over to a meeting appointed by West
moreland Quarterly Meeting, on purpose to hear and de
termine the matter of difference. But the disaffected per
sons refused to give their attendance. The committee being
desirous, if possible, to give them a fair and full hearing,
appointed another day, and themselves personally waited on
the heads of the secession, to request their attendance. But
their message and advice were treated with slight and con
tempt ; and seeing that these men were not by any means
to be induced to a reconciliation, they drew up a testimony
against them, and left it with Friends of the Quarterly
Meeting of Westmoreland.
Still another attempt was made the next year, to reclaim
and recover those who had thus gone out of the way. A
meeting was appointed at Drawell, near Sedburgh, on the
borders of Yorkshire and Westmoreland, at which they
were again offered a fair opportunity of being heard upon
the subjects of their discontent. On this occasion, they
21*

246 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1675
condescended to attend, and were fully heard by the
Friends formerly appointed, and by many other aged and
experienced Friends from other parts, who spent four days
in the investigation. But as it plainly appeared that the
defection proceeded from a spirit of contention and oppo
sition to all regularity and good order in the church, they
were affectionately entreated to return to the unity of the
body. Obstinately persisting, however, in their opposition,
they were testified against by this meeting also ; and soon
afterwards detached themselves entirely from the Society,
and set up a separate meeting.
John Story travelled over the country, endeavoring to
propagate the dissent in various parts of the nation, and
gained some adherents in the western counties, particularly
at Bristol.
This defection drew forth from William Penn a small
treatise on Church Discipline, designed to inform the judg
ments of the discontented ; and Robert Barclay also came
forth with his well known work entitled "The Anarchy of
the Ranters," &c, in which, with his usual clearness and
strength of reasoning, he vindicated the discipline estab
lished among Friends, against those who accused them of
confusion and disorder on the one hand, or of tyranny and
imposition on the other. These books elicited contentious
replies from William Rogers, one of the prominent se
ceders ; which, however, being more remarkable for pas
sionate intemperance of language than soundness of reason
ing, and abounding in personal invectives against many of
the most eminent members of the Society, particularly
George Fox, soon ran their ephemeral course and sunk
into oblivion.
William Rogers becoming puffed up by the applause of
his party, went to London at the time of the Yearly Meet
ing, and challenged Friends to an open dispute. He was
met accordingly, and was so completely foiled in all his

1675.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 247
sophistry, and his errors and petulancy were so fully ex
posed, that framing a frivolous excuse, he left the meeting,
and departed abruptly from the city, refusing a second
opportunity for further discussion.
Thomas Ell wood and George Whitehead were also en
gaged in this controversy, both replying to William Rogers's
books, and defending the principles and practices of the
Society. The compact by which these separatists were
bound together, was found too slight to maintain their
union, and was soon dissolved. The more sincere among
them coming in time to perceive the groundless nature of
their separation, were united once more to the body, and
the rest fell to pieces and dwindled away ; leaving only, as
their memorial, a solemn warning on the page of history,
of the unsubstantial nature of all attempts, made in the
spirit of party and of self-aggrandizement, to divide and
scatter the church of Christ.
About the same time that this defection of Wilkinson
and Story broke out in the north of England, a spirit of
unsoundness showed itself in the east ; which, though con
fined in its sorrowful effects to one individual, became im
portant as a matter of history, inasmuch as it once more
drew forth the testimony of the faithful members of the
body, to their belief in the divinity and atonement of the
Lord Jesus Christ, as a fundamental and integral part of
the doctrines of the Society of Friends. A certain Jeffery
Bullock, of Sudbury, elated by a fond conceit of his own
attainments, and mistaking the vagaries of a deluded im
agination for the pure influences of the Spirit of Christ,
adopted and promulgated the false and anti-christian notion,
that the gift of divine grace in the soul superseded the
necessity, and cancelled the benefits, of the coming and
sufferings in the flesh, of our blessed Lord and Saviour,
Jesus Christ.
Being rebuked for this and other errors, he assumed an

248 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1675.
air of great importance, and inveighed with much acrimony
against the faithful elders, whose concern it was to admin-
ister counsel and reproof, in order to reclaim him from the
gross delusions into which his self-confidence had betrayed
him ; and he denounced the good order and government of
the church, as tyranny, oppression, and usurpation of power ;
declaring that every one should be left to the guidance of
the Spirit in himself, with no control of outward rules.
Becoming, notwithstanding the brotherly admonitions of
his friends, still more refractory and overbearing, and
going on to propagate his unsound opinions, he was, about
the year 1675, disowned by Friends, who issued several
clear and cogent testimonies against his anti-christian
errors. Irritated by this disownment, he made use of the press,
and published a book against the Society, upbraiding its
members with much bitterness. Giles Barnardiston and
Isaac Penington stepped forward in defence of the truth,
replying to his charges and false assertions ; vindicating
the faith of the Society in our Lord Jesus Christ, as the
Son of God, and the only Justifier and Saviour of the re
penting sinner ; and showing that as those are to be blamed
who despise the doctrine of the Light within, relying on the
death and sufferings of Christ, without coming to an expe
rience of his cleansing and sanctifying operations in the
soul, so those, on the other hand, who, pretending to exalt
this Light, despised the loving-kindness of the Lord in
sending his Son Jesus Christ into the world, to lay down
his precious life a sacrifice for the sins of man, cannot be
owned as maintaining sound doctrine ; for that such as
speak and act under the promptings of that divine Light,
can never disregard or deny the efficacy of what the Son
of God did and suffered in the prepared body.
This unhappy man was afterwards mercifully enabled to
see the delusion into which he had fallen : and in 1686, he

1677.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 249
gave forth a paper of condemnation, not only of his gross
doctrinal errors, but of his supercilious and injurious treat
ment of Friends, and animadversions against the wholesome
order and government of the Society.

CHAPTER XXVIII.
WILLIAM PENN'S TRAVELS IN HOLLAND AND GERMANY.
IN the year 1677, William Penn found it laid upon him
to visit Holland and Germany, in the service of the
Gospel. He had been before on the continent, about 1671 ;
but no account of that journey is now to be found.
Sailing from Harwich on the 26th of the Fifth month,
in company with George Fox, Robert Barclay, George
Keith, and several other Friends, he landed on the 28th at
the Briel in Holland, and soon proceeded to Rotterdam,
where many Friends of that city immediately came to see
them. They held two meetings there, and visited Friends
in their families, and William Penn then proceeded with
George Fox to Leyden, Haarlem and Amsterdam ; at which
place was then held the first general meeting of Friends
for Holland, embracing also those in the Palatinate, Ham
burg, Lubeck, Frederickstadt, &c. This meeting agreed
upon several salutary minutes, to be sent forth among the
members for their edification, and for the better conducting
of the affairs of the church, which document may be con
sidered as in some degree embodying their code of disci
pline. The first item ran thus :
" Be it known to all men, that the power of God, the
Gospel, is the authority of all our men's and women's meet
ings ; and every heir of that power is an heir of that au-

250 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1677.
thority, and so becometh a living member of right, of
either of those meetings, and of the heavenly fellowship
and order in which they stand : which is not of man, nor
by man."
The practice to be observed in laboring with offenders
for their restoration is thus described :
"Though the doctrine of Christ Jesus requireth his people
to admonish a brother or sister twice, before they tell the
church ; yet that limiteth none, so as they shall use no
longer forbearance, before they tell the church ; — and it is
desired of all, that before they publicly complain, they wait
in the power of God, to feel if there is no more required of
them to their brother or sister." "And further, when the
church is told, and the party admonished by the church
again and again, and he or she remain still insensible and
unreconciled ; let not final judgment go forth against him
or her, till every one of the meeting hath cleared his or
her conscience, that if any thing be upon any, further to
visit such a transgressor, they may clear themselves, if pos
sibly the party may be reached and saved. And after all
are clear of the blood of such an one, let the judgment of
Friends in the power of God go forth against him or her,
as moved for the Lord's honor and glory sake : that no re
proach may come or rest upon God's holy name, truth, and
people." Amongst other things which then engaged their atten
tion, was the subject of marriage; which they declare, "as
the universal and unanimous sense of Friends," to be "the
work of the Lord only, and not of priest or magistrate ;
for it is God's ordinance and not man's."
They also directed that committees of Friends should be
appointed to judge of such writings as were designed to be
published, and that "no book may be published but in the
unity." William Penn bears testimony that at this meeting "the

1677.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 251
sound of the everlasting gospel went forth, and the Lord's
fear, and life, and power was over all."
Here William Penn addressed a letter to the king of Po
land, in the name and on behalf of his fellow-believers of
Dantzick, who had for some, time been great sufferers for
conscience' sake, some banished from their homes, and others
closely imprisoned, for meeting together for the worship of
their Divine Master. This cogent appeal, however, did not
prevail to stop the persecution ; which continued for some
years, so that those poor people were subjected to much
cruelty, being confined in the house of correction, chained
together by their hands, fed only with bread and water,
and forced to lie upon straw through the severe winter.
Hence William Penn, Benjamin Furly, George Keith and
Robert Barclay, went to Osnaburg, and then to Herwerden,
to visit the Princess Elizabeth Palatine of the Rhine, grand
daughter of King James I., and sister of the famous Prince
Rupert. She and the Countess De Homes, who lived with
her, had for some time been acquainted with Robert Barclay
and other Friends, and were seeking after best things, and
lovers of those who separate themselves from the world for
righteousness' sake. This Princess came measurably to
appreciate the truth of the principles held by Friends, and
not only maintained an affectionate correspondence for
several years with Robert Barclay and William Penn, but
made her house an asylum and a meeting-place for Friends
on various occasions. These were now very cordially
received, and held several meetings in her house, one of
which, at the suggestion of the Countess De Homes, was
with the domestics of the establishment, to the great satis
faction of the princess : another was a public meeting for
the family and the towns-people, "which began," says
William Penn, "with a weighty exercise and travail in
prayer, that the Lord would glorify his own name that day.
And by his own power he made way to their consciences,

252 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1677.
and sounded his awakening trumpet in their ears, that they
might know that He was God, and that there is none like
unto Him. Oh ! the day of the Lord livingly dawned upon
us, and the searching life of Jesus was in the midst of us.
The Word, that never faileth them that wait for it, and abide
in it, opened the way and unsealed the book of life : yea the
quickening power and life of Jesus wrought and reached to
them ; and virtue from him in whom dwelleth the Godhead
bodily, went forth, and blessedly distilled upon us his
heavenly life." "As soon as the meeting was done," he
adds, " the princess came to me, and took me by the hand,
to speak to me of the sense she had of that power and
presence of God, which was amongst us ; but was stopped —
and turning herself to the window, she broke forth in an
extraordinary [emotion,] crying out, 'I cannot speak to
you — my heart is full,' — clapping her hands upon her
breast." In taking a solemn leave of these interesting persons, the
Friends recommended to them a " holy silence from all will-
worship, and the workings, strivings, and images of their
own mind and spirit ; that Jesus might be felt by them in
their hearts, and his holy teachings witnessed and followed
in the way of his blessed cross, which would crucify them
unto the world, and the world unto them ; that their faith,
hope, and joy might stand in Christ in them, the heavenly
Prophet, Shepherd, and Bishop."
Leaving Herwerden, they passed through Paderborn,
Cassel and Frankfort ; except Robert Barclay, who prepared
to return to Amsterdam. Soon after they arrived at Kris-
heim, where they found a meeting of tender and faithful
people ; and notwithstanding Friends there were desired by
the chief officer of the place, through fear of the leading
Calvinists, not to suffer any preaching amongst them, yet
they had a comfortable meeting. At Manheim, William
Penn addressed a letter to the Prince Elector Palatine of

1677.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 253
Heidelberg, encouraging him in the Christian virtue of
charity towards those who conscientiously dissented from the
established form of religion : they then went by the Rhine to
Worms, and thence on foot to Krisheim again, where they had
a good meeting, and the Lord's power was sweetly felt by
many. This meeting had been chiefly gathered by William
Ames and George Rofe, about twenty years previously.
Passing through Mentz and Cologne, and not being per
mitted to enter the town of Mulheim, they came to the walls
of Duysburg, at night ; but the gates being shut, and no
houses outside the walls, they lay down together in a field
until near the dawn of day, soon after which, the gates being
opened, they entered the city. Here William Penn wrote a
letter to the Countess of Falkenstein and Bruck, of whom
he had some knowledge as a person of much religious feeling,
who saw the vanity of this world, and in some degree the
emptiness of its religions ; but whom they had not been able
to visit, being rudely turned away by her father, with a
guard of soldiers. He encouraged her closely to attend to
the divine Visitor in the soul, which had shown her the
fading nature of all earthly glory, and the joys of the world
to come, and had wrought in her heart the change which
she had witnessed from the spirit of the world. And he
recommended her to stay herself upon Christ Jesus, the
everlasting Rock, and feel him a fountain in her soul —
whom God had given for the life of the world. He wrote
also at the same time to her father, the Graef or Earl of
Bruck and Falkenstein, exhorting him to repentance, and
remonstrating with him on his illiberality and unchristian
behavior, in turning out of his dominions at sunset, innocent
strangers of good character in their own country, and thus
subjecting them to exposure in the fields at night, in an
unknown country, merely for being what the world called
Quakers, and not giving him the usual empty compliment
of putting off the hat.
22

254 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1677.
They were met, the same day, after a meeting with some
serious people, by a messenger from the countess, telling
them of her grief at the behavior of her father, and advising
them not to expose themselves on her account, to such diffi
culties ; for her father set his dogs at some who came in the
love of God to visit her, and at others his soldiers, to beat
them ; adding, however, that even this ought not to hinder
them from doing good. After some serious discourse with
the tender young man, her messenger, it being now afternoon,
and they having neither eaten nor drank anything since the
morning of the previous day, and having lain out in the
field all night, they retired for some refreshment, and after
wards left the city, being compelled to walk eight miles to
a town called Holten, where they lodged.
Proceeding through Wesel to Cleve, they paid a visit to a
certain noblewoman of religious disposition. They told her,
their message was to those of that city who had any hunger
or thirst after the true and living knowledge of God. She
told them there were some who searched after God ; but she
feared that the name of Quaker would make them shy; for
they were called Quakers themselves, by people of the same
profession, merely for being more serious and retired in their
conversation. They replied, that it was an honor to the
name, that all sobriety throughout Germany was called by
it ; and that this ought to make the way easier for those who
were Quakers indeed — to all such, God had committed to
him and his friends the word of life to preach, and such
they sought out wherever the Lord brought them. This
person, as well as an attorney whom she sent for to meet
them, was reached by their testimony to pure spiritual
religion, and they both confessed to the truth of what was
said. "A blessed sweet time we had," says William Penn ;
"for the power and presence of the Lord, our staff and
strength, plenteously appeared amongst us."
Soon after this, at Utrecht, William Penn parted from

1677.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 255
his companions, and went to Amsterdam, where he received
a letter from the Princess Elizabeth, who longed for gieater
experience of the baptism of fire and of the Holy Ghost, and
for power to bear the cross of Christ.
From Amsterdam he joined George Fox at Harlingen,
where was held at that time the first Monthly Meeting of
Friends for Friesland, Groningen, and Embden, and a pub
lic meeting also for the inhabitants generally. There was
a Presbyterian minister present, who sat with much atten
tion and sobriety, but who, having to preach that evening,
went away, while George Fox was speaking. However, he
speedily returned and sat at the door till George Fox con
cluded ; when he stood up, and putting off his hat, with his
face towards heaven, and in a solemn manner, exclaimed,
" The Almighty, the All-wise, the Omnipotent great God,
and his Son Jesus Christ, who is blessed forever and ever,
confirm His word that hath been spoken this day ; " and
apologizing for having to leave the meeting, withdrew.
Just as the meeting ended, he came again, and said in the
hearing of some Friends, that he had made his sermon
much shorter than common, that he might enjoy the rest
of the meeting. From this place William Penn wrote a
letter of religious counsel to Joanna Eleonora Malane, a
noble young woman of Frankfort, who had been sweetly
visited by the ministry of life, through himself and his com
panions. He soon afterwards paid an interesting visit to
Anna Maria Schurmans, a noted religious woman among
the followers of John De Labadie, who seeking a more
spiritual fellowship and society, had separated themselves
from the common Calvinistic churches, and were a serious,
plain people, having approximated towards Friends as to
silence in meetings, women's speaking, preaching by the
Spirit, and plainness of garb and furniture. This woman,
with some others of the same persuasion, resided in the
family of the Somerdykes, daughters of a nobleman of the

256 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1677.
Hague. They gave William Penn a serious account of the
work of the Almighty among them ; having evidently
tasted of the heavenly gift, but appearing to place too
great reliance on their beloved John De Labadie. Wil
liam Penn then addressed them in an earnest appeal, open
ing the true nature of religious experience, and exhorting
them, that since God had given them a divine sense of him
self, their eye should be to him, and not to man ; that they
might come more into true silence, and a growth into that
heavenly sense — that the work of the true ministry was
not to keep the attention of the people to the preacher, but
to turn them to God, the new covenant teacher, and to
Christ, the great gospel minister — and closely recommend
ing to them not to be of those who begin in the Spirit, and
end in the flesh ; but to wait in the light and the spirit of
judgment that had visited them, that all might be wrought
out that was not born of God, and they might become a
holy priesthood, offering up a living sacrifice with God's
heavenly fire.
Leaving this little company, with much exhortation to
" know no man after the flesh," but to have their fellow
ship in Christ, he went to Lippenhausen and Groningen, at
both which places were meetings of Friends : and thence to
Embden, where Friends had suffered most grievous perse
cutions for some years. Here he found it laid upon him to
visit the president of the council, at whose instigation these
persecutions had taken place, who received him respect
fully, and gave some expectation that the visit would not
prove in vain.
After this, at Bremen, he went to see two ministers under
some suffering for their zeal against formality in the re
formed churches ; and though one, through fear, reluctantly
declined the visit, he had with the other a satisfactory open
interview of about three hours ; testifying " that the day
was come, and coming, in which the Lord would gather

1677.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 257
out of all sects that stand in the oldness of the letter, into
His own holy Spirit, life, and power ; and that in this, the
unity of faith and bond of peace should stand."
He and Jacob Claus, his companion, visited some other
serious individuals, and had in their inn, frequent oppor
tunity to declare the way of Truth ; and leaving books
among the people, they took their leave of them, and went
again to Herwerden. Here they had much satisfaction in
the company of those pious women, the Princess Elizabeth
and Countess De Homes, and held several meetings in the
house, which appear to have been remarkable opportunities
of divine overshadowing, to the tendering of the hearts of
those assembled. Having at length taken an affectionate
and solemn leave of this family, they travelled by wagon
to Wesel, about two hundred miles, riding three nights and
days without rest ; and arriving at Amsterdam, they had
on the tenth of Eighth month, a " blessed public meeting,
never to be forgotten." In this city they had a dispute
with Galenus Abrahams, the great father of the Socinian
Menists in those parts, who came accompanied by several
of his congregation, and some of their preachers, and af
firmed in opposition to Friends, that there was no Christian
church ministry, or apostolical commission now in the
world. But the Lord assisted them with His wisdom and
strength, to confound his attempts.
From Amsterdam they went to Delft and Rotterdam,
where they had a large and favored meeting among
Friends and others ; thence to the Hague and Leyden, and
on the 21st embarked at Briel for Harwich, on their return
to England. 22*

258 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1679.
CHAPTER XXIX.
ACCOUNT OF ISAAC PENINGTON.
IN the year 1679 died Isaac Penington, a man remark
able for his sweet Christian spirit, and extraordinarily
clear views of the mysteries of godliness, and the true char
acter of pure and undefiled religion. He was born about
the year 1617, and was the eldest son of Alderman Pening
ton, who was twice elected lord mayor of London, a noted
member of the Long Parliament, and nominated, though
he never acted, as one of the judges for the trial of King
Charles the First. Isaac's education was suited to his
quality and expectations in life, having all the advantages
which the schools and universities, and the conversation of
some of the most considerable men of the age, could afford.
His natural abilities enabled him to avail himself of these
advantages, being possessed of a quick apprehension, an
acute mind, sound judgment, and good general understand
ing. His disposition was remarkably mild and affable, free
from pride and affectation ; his common conversation cheer
ful but guarded, equally divested of moroseness and levity.
Tempering easy affability with serious gravity, he was
pleasing in the manner, and instructive in the matter of
his discourse.
His father's station in public employments, and his rank
in life, opened for him a fair prospect of worldly greatness,
if his views had been turned that way ; but actuated by
higher and nobler considerations, he was induced to relin
quish the short-lived glories of this world, as unworthy to
engage the principal attention of man born for immortal
ity ; and with Moses he " chose rather to suffer affliction
with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin
for a season."

1679.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 259
" Very early," says his intimate friend, William Penn,
who married his step-daughter Gulielma Maria Springett,
" very early did the Lord visit him with a more than ordi
nary manifestation of his love ; and it had that good effect
upon him, that it kept him both from the evils and vain
worships of the world ; and he became the wonder of his
kindred and familiars, for his awful life and serious aand
frequent retirements, declining all company that might in
terrupt his meditations." He was frequent in reading the
Holjf Scriptures, and faithful in practising what was thereby
manifested to his understanding, though in this he met with
much reproach and opposition. But in reading the lives
of holy men of God, recorded in the Scriptures, he per
ceived in himself and in the generality of professing Chris
tians, a great falling short of the power, experience, and
spiritual attainments, which the Scriptures testified to have
been acquired in former times. So that the religion of
that age, though very high in profession, appeared to him
for the most part but a talk, in comparison with what
was enjoyed, possessed, and lived in by the primitive be
lievers. Under this view, he was led to separate himself from the
public worship he had usually frequented, and to join a
select society of pious persons similarly dissatisfied with the
prevailing empty professions. Amongst these he found a
good degree of sincerity, and Divine help was often near
them. But still there was wanting a greater degree of inward
watchfulness, and retirement to the gift of Christ in the
heart ; and they fell into a mistake, and lost ground. For
whilst they should have pressed forward into the spirit and
power of godliness, they ran too much outward into the letter
and form ; in consequence whereof they became darkened in
their minds, and confusion and scattering overtook them.
Isaac being now left alone, connected with no visible
society, and in a state of darkness and uncertainty, fell under

260 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1679.
great trouble of mind for a long season, secretly mourning
and praying to the Lord, night and day. At length he met
with some of the writings of the people called Quakers ; but
he cast a slight eye over them and threw them aside with
disdain, as falling very short of that wisdom with which he
supposed the living faith which he was seeking would be
attended. Some time afterwards, he had opportunities of
conversing with some of them; and although (to use his
own expressions) they reached the life of God in him, and
that life answered to their discourse, and engaged his affec
tionate regard towards them, yet he seemed to himself to
have such an advantage over them in the poVer of reasoning,
and superiority of understanding, that he viewed them rather
in a contemptuous light, as a poor, weak and despicable
people, who had some smatterings of truth in them, and
some honest desires towards God, but who were very far
from the full understanding of His way and will.
One of these opportunities was at Reading in 1656, where
Alexander Parker met with him. Alexander thus mentions
the interview : " Though at that time he had not the out
ward garb and appearance of a Quaker, yet did mine eye
behold an inward beauty and hidden virtue of life in him ;
and my soul in the love of truth, did cleave unto him, and
I could have embraced him in the sense thereof; but in
those early days we were cautious, and laid hands on no
man suddenly." He did not hastily join Friends ; but for
some time reasoned about things, without being able to
arrive at a clear view of the Divine will, because he sought
it not yet in that low and humble state, wherein the still
small voice was to be discerned from the insinuations of the
adversary of truth.
But in the year 1658, being invited to a meeting of Friends
at John Crook's in Bedfordshire, he went with a fixed dis
position and desire to receive nothing as truth, which was
not of God, nor withstand anything that was. George Fox

1679.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 261
was at that meeting ; who spoke so clearly to Isaac's state,
and expounded the mystery of iniquity, and the gospel of
peace and salvation, with such energy, that he gained his
full assent to the truth ; and from that time forward, Isaac
heartily joined in society with this people ; though for a
season he endured great spiritual conflict, as well as much
opposition and reproach from his father and other relations,
and from the people and powers of the world.
Being well prepared by the religious exercises through
which he had passed, previous to his convincement, as well
as after, he soon became an eminently serviceable member
of the Society of Friends. His piety was manifested in his
humble and reverent adoration of the Most High, and cir
cumspect conversation as in His divine presence. His
benevolence and Christian charity was displayed in the
diligence with which he visited and administered to the
afflicted in body or mind ; and his hospitality, in opening
his heart and house for the reception of the messengers of
peace, and for the religious meetings of his friends. He was
a man of quick apprehension, and when any spark arose
from the Coals of God's altar, it soon kindled in him a flame
of holy zeal for God and his truth. Through his ministry
many were converted to the truth he had received, and
many more confirmed in it ; his preaching being with divine
authority, in the demonstration of the Spirit and of power.
In all his declarations, and writings too, which were numer
ous and highly edifying to the spiritual traveller, he ever
pointed to the life — -the living efficacy — of religion; and
pressed all to mind the power of godliness, and not to settle
or content themselves in the letter or form. Indeed this was
the very bent of his mind ; and the strong cries of his soul
to the Lord were, that all might partake of this living
efficacy, even the life of Jesus, of which he, through the
death of the cross, had been made a partaker ; in which life
re lived unto God, and was a striking pattern of humility,

262 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1679.
walking in uprightness and innocence before the Lord. He
was weaned from the world, and redeemed from the earth ;
his mind being exercised in things of a higher nature,
drinking daily of the water that Christ gives ; which was in
him " a well of water, springing up unto eternal life."
His conduct and conversation were a seal to his ministry,
exhibiting the fruits of the Holy Spirit, and affording an
excellent example of piety and virtue in every relation of
life. He was a most affectionate husband, a careful and
tender father, a mild and gentle master, a sincere and faith
ful friend ; compassionate and liberal to the poor, affable
and kind to all with whom he conversed, ready to do good
to all men, and careful to injure none.
Having embraced the truth from a firm persuasion of its
inestimable value, he patiently and meekly submitted to the
sufferings which were, in that day, the lot of most of those
who faithfully stood for the cause. His first imprisonment
was in Aylesbury jail, in 166.1 and 1662, being taken from
a meeting in his own house, and confined seventeen weeks,
in winter, in a cold and very incommodious room without
any chimney. From this severe treatment he contracted so
violent a disease, that for several weeks afterwards he was
not able to turn in his bed.
His second imprisonment was likewise for meeting with
his friends for divine worship, and was in the same jail, and
for nearly the same space of time. His third also was in
the same place, on the following occasion ; which affords an
instance of the arbitrary temper, and illegal assumption of
power, of many of the magistrates of that period. A Friend
of Amersham having died, several Friends and others of the
neighborhood assembled as usual to attend the funeral. It
happened that one Ambrose Bennett, a justice of the peace,
accidentally riding through the town, heard of this funeral.
He alighted, and stayed at an inn until the company cam«
by, carrying the corpse to the grave in a solemn manner,

1679.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 263
becoming the occasion ; upon which he rushed out, attended
by some constables and rude people, and with his drawn
sword struck one of the foremost bearers of the coffin, and
commanded them to set it down. But they, knowing that
he had no legal authority for so arbitrary a proceeding, as
they were not engaged in any unlawful act, were not forward
to comply with his order ; whereupon this justice of the peace
violently pushed the coffin off their shoulders into the street,
and there left it to the rudeness of all passengers until even
ing ; when it was forcibly taken away from the widow, and
buried. The funeral company, on the coffin being thrown
down, were seized or dispersed by his order, and ten of them,
among whom was Isaac Penington, were committed to
Aylesbury jail. Here they were detained until the assizes,
when they were again committed for one month, on the act
of banishment.
Isaac had scarcely enjoyed his liberty again more than a
month, when he was once more taken out of his own house,
in a manner still more arbitrary than before, by military
force. A rude soldier, without any other warrant than his
weapon, took him before one of the deputy lieutenants of
the county ; who sent him with a guard of soldiers to
Aylesbury jail, with a very unusual kind of mittimus, im
porting that the jailer should receive and keep him in safe
custody, during the pleasure of the Earl of Bridgewater !
This earl had causelessly imbibed a particular antipathy to
this inoffensive man, to that degree, that although the plague
was then raging, and had reached that town, and the jail
was supposed to be infected, he could not be prevailed
upon, by the intercession of a person of considerable rank
and authority in the county, to permit Isaac to remove to
another house in the town, until the jail should be free
from infection. After a time, one of the prisoners dying
in the jail, of that disease, the jailer's wife, in her hus
band's absence, gave him liberty to remove into another

264 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1679.
house : and at length, by the interposition of the Earl of
Ancram, after suffering a causeless imprisonment of three
quarters of a year, he was discharged. But before the end
of a month, another party of soldiers, under the same au
thority as before, came to his house at night, seized him in
his bed, and carried him to the same jail again ; where,
without any cause, or being charged with any offence, he
was imprisoned in rooms so damp and unhealthy that he
was thrown into a disease in which he lay for several
months, and his life was greatly endangered. During his
long confinement, he was never called for at the sessions,
but by some illegal means was returned on the calendar to
remain in prison. At length in 1668, procuring a removal
by writ of habeas corpus to the court of King's Bench, when
he appeared there, no cause of imprisonment appearing, the
court released him, with plain indications of surprise, that
a man should be so long kept in prison for nothing.
Last of all, he was imprisoned in 1670 at Reading;
whither he had gone in the exercise of Christian charity
and fraternal sympathy, to visit his friends in prison there.
This was, in the eyes of that rigid and implacable magis
trate, Sir William Armourer, sufficient cause for his arrest,
and he was committed to the same prison with his friends
whom he came to visit. Here he continued a prisoner, a
year and three quarters, being condemned under a sentence
of premunire, until at length he was released by the king's
letters-patent, in 1672.
A fellow-prisoner gives the following testimony of his
deportment under these repeated tribulations. "I have
had knowledge of him near twenty years, especially in
suffering ; for it pleased the Lord so to order it, that our
lot fell together in prison several times, and I may say, it
was well it was so ; for, being made willing by the power
of God, to suffer with great patience, cheerfulness, content-
edness, and true nobility of spirit, he was a good example

1679.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 265
to me and others. I do not remember that I ever saw him
cast down, or dejected in his spirit, in the time of his close
confinement, nor speak hardly of those that persecuted
him. Indeed I may say, in the prison he was a help to the
weak, being made instrumental in the hand of the Lord to
that end. Oh, the remembrance of the glory that did often
overshadow us in the place of confinement ; so that indeed,
the prison was made by the Lord unto us as a pleasant
palace." Many of his excellent letters were written during
his incarcerations.
Being thus, by divine assistance, preserved through all
his trials, steadfast in the faith, he was well prepared for
death. In the year 1679, being at Goodnestone Court in
Kent, a farm belonging to his wife, (who was the widow of
Sir William Springett,) he was there taken ill of a painful
disorder. The anguish of his body, however, gave no shock
to the inward peace with which he was favored. He died,
as he had lived, in the faith that overcomes the world,
leaving to posterity, by his life, and by his excellent writings,
an animating example of that Christian purity and wis
dom, which can. only be attained by unremitting watchful
ness, and attention to the inspeaking, quick, and powerful
Word of divine Grace.
23

266 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1680.

CHAPTER XXX.
PENNSYLVANIA GRANTED TO WILLIAM PENN  PERSECU
TION AT BRISTOL.
¥E have seen by the occurrences narrated to have taken
place in the colonies of New England, that notwith
standing the plea of liberty of conscience with which those
colonies set out, they furnished a very imperfect kind of
refuge to our Friends from the persecutions rife in the old
world. But the time now approached, when their Divine
Master saw fit to grant to his servants an asylum on the
Western Continent under circumstances which assured to
them, at least for many years, the peaceable enjoyment of
their religious rights.
William Penn had for some years been interested in
promoting the colonization of West Jersey as a trustee of
the estate of Edward Byllinge. His attention had thus
been attracted at times across the great ocean, and probably
a remembrance occasionally renewed of the prospect which
he seems to have had at an early period of his life, of use
fulness in the Western World. And now having long wit
nessed the sufferings to which his friends were subjected for
their faithful adherence to their religious convictions, he
became desirous of obtaining a grant of a tract of country
in the wilderness of America, where he might furnish them
a retreat from the malice of their enemies, and found a
government based on the principles of Christianity. Ac
cordingly, in 1680, he applied to King Charles II. for a
grant of territory, and power to found a colony. After
considerable deliberation the request was acceded to, and a
charter granted on the fourth of the month called March,

1681.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 267
1681, by which William Penn was constituted Proprietor
and Governor of the new colony, named by the king, Penn
sylvania. By this charter William Penn became possessed of very
considerable political power, and, as far as the royal grant
was competent to give him possession, of an extensive
country, nearly covered with woods, and chiefly occupied
by wandering tribes of Indians. These, he was well aware,
were the real owners of the soil, and he early determined
not to overlook their rights, or follow the example of those
who had preceded him in other colonies, of robbing and
oppressing this poor defenceless people.
Soon after obtaining the charter, he commenced prepara
tions for settling the province : he published such an account
of the country as could then be obtained, with a copy of
the charter, and a statement of the terms on which the
lands would be sold ; and a large number of purchasers
coming forward, he drew up, and presented to them certain
conditions, which may be considered as the first step to a
constitution of government. This document contained
twenty-four articles, which were consented to and subscribed
by the first settlers ; the first article being on a matter
which was very near to his feelings, and expressed as fol
lows: " In reverence to God, the Father of light and spirits,
the author, as well as object, of all divine knowledge,
faith, and worship, I do, for me and mine, declare and
establish, for the first fundamental of the government of
this country, that every person that doth or shall reside
therein, shall have and enjoy the free profession of his or
her faith, and exercise of worship towards God, in such way
and manner as every such person shall in conscience believe
is most acceptable to God : and so long as every such per
son useth not this Christian liberty to licentiousness, or the
destruction of others ; that is to say, to speak loosely and

268 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1682.
profanely or contemptuously of God, Christ, the Holy
Scriptures, or religion, or commit any moral evil or injury
against others in their conversation ; he or she shall be pro
tected in the enjoyment of the aforesaid Christian liberty
by the civil magistrate."
He wrote also on the eighteenth of the Eighth month,
1681, a kind letter to the Indian inhabitants of the coun
try, recognizing the same Lord over all, for the red as for
the white man, to whom we must all give account ; men
tioning the royal grant of a tract of country to himself, but
desiring to enjoy it with their love and consent; and in
forming them that he should shortly appear among them
personally, but in the mean time had sent commissioners to
treat with them about the land, and a firm league of peace.
These commissioners were enjoined, in negotiating with
the natives for the sale of their lands, to treat them with
all possible justice, candor, and humanity.
Having at length completed the arrangements for his
departure, he wrote a beautiful and touching letter to his
wife and children, exhorting them by the most tender en
treaties of a father's love, to a godly life, and a cultivation
of the true graces and virtues of the genuine Christian;
and going on board the ship " Welcome " in the Sixth
month, 1682, he addressed on the 30th, from the Downs, an
affectionate farewell epistle to his Friends in England.
He had about one hundred fellow-passengers, chiefly of
his own Society, but the small-pox breaking out among
them, carried off nearly one-third of the number. In this
trying situation, he administered to the sick all the comfort
and assistance in his power, not seeking his own ease when
his exertions could be of any use to his fellow-creatures.
After a voyage of six weeks, they came in sight of the
American shores, and sailing up the Delaware Bay and
river, received the hearty congratulations of the inhabi
tants, and landed at Newcastle on the 24th of the Eighth

1682.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 269
month. Here he took possession of his territory, having
obtained from the Duke of York, before his departure, the
three lower counties on the Delaware Bay to annex to his
province ; and soon afterwards proceeded to Chester, then
called Uplands, and convened an assembly there, consisting
of an equal number of freemen from Pennsylvania and
from these lower counties. This assembly, though only
three days in session, passed several important laws, the
first of which was to insure liberty of conscience to every
one who should " confess one Almighty God to be the Cre
ator, Upholder, and Ruler of the world, and profess him
self obliged in conscience to live peaceably and justly un
der the civil government. By these laws, the officers of
the government were required to be such as professed faith
in Jesus Christ. Scandalous vices of every description
were prohibited, and provision was made for training chil
dren to business, to prevent pauperism. Some new views
were introduced into the penal system, prisons being con
sidered as places of reformation, and not merely of vindic
tive punishment.
In a letter written from this place soon afterwards, he
declared himself " much satisfied with his place and por
tion, yet busy enough, having much to do to please all ; "
and comparing his allotment with what he had elsewhere
witnessed, he exclaimed, " Oh, how sweet is the quiet of
these parts, freed from the anxious and troublesome solici
tations, heresies, and perplexities of woful Europe." —
"Blessed be God — my soul fervently breathes, that in
His heavenly guiding wisdom we may be kept: that we
may serve him in our day, and lay down our heads in
peace." It was not long before he redeemed his promise to the
Indians, of coming among them in person ; for in the au
tumn of this year, he held his celebrated treaty with these
people at Shackamaxon, about two miles north of the orig-
23*

270 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1682.
inal site of the city of Philadelphia, and since included
within its limits. It is much to be regretted that the rec
ords of this treaty have been lost, and nothing remains re
specting it but tradition, and the deep and indelible im
pression which it made in the heart of the red man. This
impression was one of lasting gratitude for the justice and
kindness with which they had been treated by William
Penn, and of unwavering confidence to this day in the sin
cerity and friendship of his brethren in religious fellowship.
The immediate object of the treaty was probably the for
mation of a league of perpetual friendship and mutual
confidence ; the purchase of land having been previously
effected by William Penn's commissioners, as far as was
necessary for the early requirements of the colony. A cele
brated writer has designated this treaty as the only one
between the Indians and Christians which had not been
ratified by an oath, and the only one that was never in
fringed. It was, too, a commencement of that system of
peaceful and Christian practice, by which, during a series
of several years, whilst the colony of Pennsylvania was un
der the control of Friends, was fully exemplified that great
and important truth, that war is not an unavoidable part
of the intercourse of nations, but that by a firm adherence
to the dictates of Christian principle, the occasions which
call it forth may be entirely avoided. This was a grand
experiment, and its success was to the honor of that great
Name, under whose promptings it was conceived, and who
having vouchsafed to his servants a clear sense of His will,
granted them strength also in the time of need, to carry
out his blessed designs.
Before this year was concluded, William Penn proceeded
to lay out the plan for his intended metropolis, in a very
favorable situation, then called by the Indians Coaquan-
nock ; and displayed the prominent social feeling of his
mind, in naming it the city of Brotherly Love. There

1682.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 271
were on William Penn's arrival, about four thousand in
habitants in the province, chiefly Dutch and Swedes ; and
in little more than a year after the arrangements were
made for the settlement of the province, more than two
thousand emigrants arrived, a large portion of them being
members of the Society of Friends. These scattering along
the Delaware, according as their choice or convenience led
them, the country was soon peopled, though thinly, from
Chester to the Falls at Trenton. Before William Penn's
arrival, a meeting of Friends had been held at Shacka-
maxon, and in 1682, a meeting was held in a frame house
erected for the purpose, within the present limits of Phila
delphia. A brick meeting-house, near the centre of the
plot of the intended city, was built two years afterwards.
The house on the bank of the river in Front street, called
the Bank meeting-house, was erected in 1683; and the
great meeting-house on High street, in 1695. These are
all that were erected in the city during William Penn's
lifetime. A meeting of Friends was held at Upland, now
Chester, several years before the arrival of William Penn,
and at that place, a meeting of record, probably the first in
the province, was held as early as 1681. A meeting was
also settled at Darby in 1682, and in the course of this
year, great numbers of emigrants arrived from England,
Ireland, Wales, Germany, and Holland. The Welsh set
tled on both sides of the Schuylkill river ; and among the
German emigrants were a number of Friends from Kris-
heim in the Palatinate, among whom William Penn had
travelled in the service of the gospel in 1677, and who
formed the flourishing settlement of Germantown.
During the year 1683, the legislature held a session in
Philadelphia, the members being chosen as representatives
by the freemen of the province. Considerable progress
was made in the erection of the new city, so that by the
end of the year, one hundred houses had arisen from the

272 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1682.
former forest; the land in the vicinity was in places
cleared and brought into cultivation ; and the grains of
Europe were beginning to flourish in the soil of Pennsyl
vania. After about two years' residence in the country, having
settled the colony in a thriving and prosperous condition,
and addressed a tender and affectionate epistolary exhorta
tion to the members of his own Society in his province,
William Penn thought it best to return to England, and
arrived there on the 12th of Sixth month, 1684.
In the year 1682, a dismal scene of persecution had been
opened in the city of Bristol, in England. The meetings
of Friends were grievously disturbed, their houses broken
into, and almost all manner of violence and abuse com
mitted, chiefly at the instigation of a ' cruel sheriff. It is
true, the meetings of other Protestant dissenters were then
also disturbed ; but it seems they did not so much persist
in their religious testimony, and were accordingly not by
any means so obnoxious to that insolent outrage, to which
this people, from their constancy and non-resistance, were
liable. The vilest characters were permitted and en
couraged to commit every kind of " excess of riot," with
out regard to sex, age, or condition. Nay, even ancient
men and women were hurried to prison with force and
blows, and the little children beaten on the head till they
became giddy, and then taken to Bridewell, and terrified
by the prospect of whipping, unless they would promise to
go no more to their meetings.
But the malice and threats that were used, even to this
youthful class of sufferers, did not succeed in subduing
their constancy ; though scarce a stone was left unturned,
in their attempts to afflict Friends, and deter them from
assembling to worship their Maker. These disturbances
continued till nearly all the men were taken to prison.

1682.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 273
Even there, however, their persecutions did not cease, but
were greatly increased by privations and ill treatment.
They were so closely thronged, that there was barely room
for them to rest themselves at night on the floors ; and in
other respects also their health and lives were so far en
dangered, that four physicians of Bristol thought fit to give
forth a certificate to that effect.
After this, the religious meetings of Friends continuing
to be. kept up chiefly by women, they also were seized, till
at length few or none but children, that remained with the
domestics in the houses of their parents, were left free. It
is, however, very remarkable, that these pious children,
mostly under the age of sixteen, now performed what their
parents by being imprisoned, were prevented from doing.
They met for the purpose of Divine worship, and con
tinued faithful without fainting, through all the insults
of a wicked rabble, from whom they suffered exceedingly.
Nineteen of them were carried to the House of Correc
tion, and kept some time there, though from their tender
age they were not within the reach of the law. When
threatened with whipping if they returned to their meet
ing, so great was their zeal, that, despising all reproach
and insolence, they remained steadfast to their duty. This
persecution lasted till the next year, as it did with unre
lenting cruelty in many other parts of England ; so that
more than seven hundred Friends were confined in jails
throughout the kingdom during the year 1683.
Some of the prisoners would have willingly worked in
prison, to earn something for their sustenance ; but the
jailer, who was one of the chief instruments of the cruel
ties exercised upon them, would not permit it. One vener
able man near ninety years of age, was kept three nights
without a bed, though others offered to pay for accommoda
tions for him, if the jailer would allow it. Other prison
ers fell sick of the " spotted fever," and some of them died.

274 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1683.
Yet all this did not soften this hard-hearted man. At
length, however, a heavy stroke fell upon him. He was
taken ill, and was seized with terrible anguish of mind,
and in his distress he desired some of those called Quakers
to pray for him, and to forgive him for what he had done.
They freely answered that they forgave him ; but advised
him to ask forgiveness of God. His anguish increased;
and when the physicians ordered him to be bled, he said,
" No physic would benefit him ; his distemper was another
thing ; that no man could do him good — his day being
over — and there was no hope of mercy for him from
God ! " Friends told him, they desired, if it was the will
of God, he might find a "place of repentance." But
whatever was advanced, encouraging him yet to try to ob
tain peace and mercy, he would repeat, that his day was
over, and that he had no faith to believe. He remained
about a month in this lamentable condition, and died
without any visible signs of forgiveness ; but the judgment
thereof must be left to God, the " Judge of quick and
dead."

CHAPTER XXXI.
THE DEATHS OF DAVID AND ROBERT BARCLAY, AND
GEORGE FOX.
AMONG those champions of the truth whom we have
seen to have fearlessly withstood the persecuting
spirit of intolerance in Scotland, was David Barclay. The
latter part of his days he passed chiefly at his estate of
Ury, enjoying the tranquillity of a country life, after many
years of hardship and trial, and favored with that inesti-

1686.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 275
mable treasure, "the peace of God, which passeth all
understanding." About the 76th year of his age, ne was
attacked by a fever, which in about two weeks, removed
him to an "inheritance incorruptible, that fadeth not
away." During his sickness, though under much bodily
suffering, he was preserved in a quiet, contented mind,
freely resigned to the will of God; and several times
testified in a lively manner, to the truth of the principles
and practices into which he had been led, and to the love
of God shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost. On
one occasion, being in much pain, he thought he was
dying ; but expressed his confidence, that he should go to
the Lord, and be gathered to many of his brethren, who
had gone before him, and to his dear son David, an ami
able, exemplary youth, and acceptable minister among
Friends, who had died at sea on his voyage to America,
about a year before.
On the 11th of Eighth month, about two or three o'clock
in the morning, he grew weaker ; and his son Robert ap
proaching him, expressed his desire, that He who had
loved him might be near him to the end. He answered,
"The Lord is nigh;" repeating — "You are my witnesses
in the presence of God, that the Lord is nigh." A little
after, in reference to the convincement of the truth which
he and his family had experienced, he exclaimed, — "The
perfect discovery of the ' Day-spring from on high !' — how
great a blessing it hath been to me and to my family ! "
Being asked to have something to refresh him, he laid his
hand on his breast, saying, " he had that inwardly which
refreshed him ; " and after a little time, added several
times, " The Truth is over all." *
After kissing his grandchildren, and desiring the divine
blessing upon them, he spoke in a serious weighty manner
to the father and sisters of his son Robert's wife ; and per
ceiving one of them who was not a Friend, weeping much,

276 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1686.
he desired that she might come to the Truth, and bade her
not to weep for him, but for herself. The medical attend
ant coming near, he took him by the hand, saying, "Thou
wilt bear me -witness, that in all this exercise, I have not
been curious to tamper nor to pamper the flesh." He an
swered, "Sir, I can bear witness, that you have always
minded the better and more substantial part ; and rejoice
to see the blessed end the Lord is bringing you to." David
enjoined him to "bear a faithful and true witness;" —
"yet," added he, emphatically, "it is the life of righteous
ness — it is the life of righteousness, that we bear testimony
to, and not to an empty profession." Then he said several
times, "Come, Lord Jesus, come, come!" And again,
" My hope is in the Lord." He sent by his son, Robert,
a message to the carpenter: "See thou charge him to make
no manner of superfluity upon my coffin."
Several Friends from Aberdeen coming to see him, and
one of them, his faithful fellow-laborer, Patrick Living
stone, having supplicated and praised the Father of all
mercies, David held up his hands, and said, "Amen, amen,
forever ! " And afterwards, when they stood looking at him,
he said, " How precious is the love of God among his chil
dren, and their love one to another. Thereby shall all men
know that ye are Christ's disciples, if you love one another.
— My love is with you — I leave it among you." About
eight at night, several Friends standing around the bed, he,
perceiving some of them weep, said, " Dear Friends ! all
mind the inward man- — heed not the outward: — there is
One that doth regard — the Lord of hosts is his name!"
After he heard the clock strike three, in the morning, he
said, " Now the time c*imes." And a little afterwards he
was heard to say, "Praises, praises, praises to the Lord! —
Let now thy servant depart in peace. — Unto thy hands, 0
Father ! I commit my soul, spirit, and body. — Thy will, 0
Lord ! be done in earth, as it is in heaven ! " These sen-

1690.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 27?
fences he spoke by short intervals ; and at a little after five
in the morning, his spirit passed away, in remarkable
sweetness and quietness.
The loss sustained by Friends in Scotland, in the removal
of this pious man, was soon followed by one felt through
the Society at large, in the death of that eminent Christian
advocate, his son, Robert Barclay. This greatly gifted
man spent the last two years of his life in much retire
ment. In the year 1690, however, he accompanied James
Dickenson, of Cumberland, in a religious visit to some
parts of the north of Scotland : and returning to Ury, from
a meeting at Aberdeen, he was immediately seized with a
violent fever ; and in about eight or nine days, it pleased
the Lord to take him out of this world, to a-kingdom of
eternal glory. James Dickenson was with him during his
illness, which was a solemn season ; and while he sat by
him, the Lord's power and presence bowed their hearts to
gether, and Robert Barclay was sweetly melted in a sense
of God's love. Though much oppressed by the disorder,
an entirely resigned, peaceful, and Christian frame of mind
shone through all. With tears, he expressed the love he
bore towards "all faithful brethren in England, who kept
their integrity to the Truth," and added, "Remember my
love to Friends in Cumberland, and at Swarthmore, to
dear George, [meaning George Fox,] and to all the faithful
everywhere ; " concluding with these comfortable expres
sions : — "God is good still: and though I am under a
great weight of sickness and weakness as to my body, yet
my peace flows. And this I know, that whatever exercises
may be permitted to come upon me, they shall tend to
God's glory and my salvation; and in that I rest." He
died on the third of the Eighth month, 1690, in the 42d
year of his age.
Robert Barclay was distinguished by strong mental pow
ers, particularly by great penetration, and a sound and
24

278 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1690.
accurate judgment. His talents were much improved by
a regular and classical education ; but it does not appear
that his superior attainments produced that elation of mind,
which is too often their attendant. He was meek, humble,
and ready to allow to others the merits they possessed. His
passions were under the most excellent government. Two
of his intimate friends have declared, that they never
knew him to be angry. He had the happiness of early per
ceiving the infinite superiority of religion, to every other
attainment ; and Divine Grace enabled him to dedicate his
life, and all that he possessed, to promote the cause of piety
and virtue. For the welfare of his friends he was sincerely
and warmly concerned ; and he travelled and wrote much,
as well as suffered cheerfully, in support of that Society
and those principles to which he had conscientiously at
tached himself. This was not a blind and bigoted attach
ment: his zeal was tempered with charity; and he loved
and respected goodness, wherever he found it. His uncor
rupted integrity and liberality of sentiment, his great abil
ities, and the suavity of his disposition, gave him much
interest with persons of rank and influence ; and he em
ployed it in a manner that marked the benevolence of his
heart. He loved peace, and was often instrumental in pro
ducing reconciliation between contending parties. In the
support and pursuit of what he believed to be right, he
possessed great firmness of mind ; and this firm and reso
lute spirit in the prosecution of duty, was united with great
sympathy and compassion towards persons in affliction and
distress. They were consoled by his tenderness, assisted by
his advice, and as occasion required, were relieved by his
bounty. His spiritual discernment and religious expe
rience, directed by that Divine influence which he valued
above all things, eminently qualified him to instruct the
ignorant, to reprove the irreligious, to strengthen the feeble
minded, and to animate the advanced Christian to still
greater degrees of virtue and holiness.

1690.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS 279
In private life, he was equally amiable. His conversa
tion was cheerful, guarded, and instructive. He was a
dutiful son, an affectionate and faithful husband, a tender
and careful father, a kind and considerate master. Though
the period of his life was short, he had, by the aid of Divine
Grace, most wisely and happily improved it ; and he lived
long enough to manifest, in an eminent degree, the temper
and conduct of a Christian, and the virtues and qualifica
tions of a true minister of the Gospel. Of his deep and
excellent writings we have already spoken.
Scarcely had the Society recovered from the shock occa
sioned by the early removal of this upright pillar from the
church, when it was called upon to surrender into the abodes
of everlasting peace, that eminent servant of Christ who
had been, more than any other man, instrumental in gather
ing it from the "lo ! heres," and "lo ! theres," ofthe barren
mountains of empty, though plausible profession, into the
green pastures and fruitful fields of substance and of life.
The latter part of the life of George Fox was chiefly
passed in or near London. His bodily health had for some
years been declining, in consequence of his many and
grievous imprisonments and other sufferings and exercises
of body and mind, his long travels for the promotion of the
cause of truth, and his incessant labors in defence of the
Gospel, against the clamor and opposition of apostate
brethren, and the unfounded imputations of open enemies to
the Truth as it is in Jesus.
His solicitude, however, to promote the welfare of the
Society, remained undiminished. He wrote many epistles
to his Friends, some of sympathy and consolation, to en
courage and strengthen them in their deep sufferings;
others of counsel, exhortation, and reproof, " stirring up
the pure mind by way of remembrance," and laboring to
build them up in the most holy faith. On the 10th day
of the Eleventh month, 1690, he wrote an epistle to Friends

28G HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1690.
in Ireland, full of consolation to them under the sufferings
which then lay heavy upon them ; and the next day being
First-day, went to the meeting at Grace-church street, Lon
don : where the Lord enabled him to preach the truth fully
and effectually, opening many deep and weighty things
with great power and clearness. After which, having
prayed, and the meeting being ended, he went to a Friend's
house near the meeting-house; and some Friends accom
panying him, he told them, " he thought he felt the cold
strike to his heart, as he came out of the meeting ; " but
added, "I am glad I was here; now I am clear, I am fully
clear." When those Friends had withdrawn, he reclined
on a bed, complaining still of cold. And his strength
sensibly declining, he soon took to his bed entirely ; where
he lay in much contentment and peace, and very sensible
to the last. And as, in the whole course of his life, his
spirit, in the universal love of God, had bent its main
energies to the promotion of righteousness and piety in the
earth ; so now, when the outward man was wasting away,
his mind seemed absorbed in desires for the spreading of
the cause of Truth. He sent for some Friends, and ex
pressed to them his dying wishes for the wide dissemination
of the writings of Friends in the world at large. To
some who came to visit him, he said, " All is well ; the
Seed of God reigns over all, and over death itself. And
though I am weak in body, yet the power of God is over
all, and the Seed reigns over all disorderly spirits." Thus
lying in a heavenly frame of mind, his spirit wholly exer«
cised towards the Most High, he gradually grew weaker,
until on the Third-day of the week, the 13th of Eleventt
month, 1690, between the hours of nine and ten in the
evening, he sweetly fell asleep in the Lord, whose blessed
truth he had livingly and powerfully preached in the
meeting but two days before. He died in the 67th year
of his age.

1690.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 281
This extraordinary man, as Thomas Ellwood testifies,
" was valiant for the truth, bold in asserting it, patient in
suffering for it, unwearied in laboring in it, steady in his
testimony to it, immovable as a rock. Deep he was in
divine knowledge, clear in opening heavenly mysteries,
plain and powerful in preaching, fervent in prayer. He
was richly endowed with heavenly wisdom, quick in dis
cerning, sound in judgment, able and ready in giving, and
discreet in keeping, counsel ; a lover of righteousness, an
encourager of virtue, justice, temperance, meekness, purity,
chastity, modesty, humility, charity, and self-denial in all,
both by word and example. Graceful he was in counte
nance, manly in personage, grave in gesture, courteous in
conversation, weighty in communication, instructive in dis
course, free from affectation in speech or carriage. A
severe reprover of hard and obstinate sinners ; a mild and
gentle admonisher of such as were tender, and sensible of
their failings. Not apt to resent personal wrongs ; easy to
forgive injuries ; but zealously earnest where the honor of
God, the prosperity of truth, and the peace of the church,
were concerned. Very tender, compassionate, and pitiful
he was to all that were under any sort of affliction ; full
of brotherly love, full of fatherly care ; for indeed the care
of the churches of Christ was daily upon him, the pros
perity and peace whereof he studiously sought."
His character has been thus beautifully portrayed also
by his intimate friend William Penn.
" He was a man that God endued with a clear and won
derful depth ; a discerner of others' spirits, and very much
a master of his own. And though that side of his under
standing which -lay next to the world, and especially the
expression of it, might sound uncouth and unfashionable
to nice ears, his matter was nevertheless very profound —
and as abruptly and brokenly as sometimes his sentences
would seem to fall from him, about divine things, it is well
24*

282 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1690.
known they were often as texts to many fairer declara
tions. And indeed, it showed beyond all contradiction
that God sent him, in that no art or parts had any share
in the matter or manner of his ministry ; and that so
many great, excellent, and necessary truths, as he came
forth to preach to mankind, had therefore nothing of man's
wit or wisdom to recommend them. So that as to man he
was an original, being no man's copy. And his ministry
and writings show that they are from One that was not
taught of man, nor had learned what he said by study.
Nor were they notional or speculative, but sensible and
practical truths, tending to conversion and regeneration,
and the setting up of the kingdom of God in the hearts
of men.
" In his ministry, he much labored to open truth to the
people's understandings, and to bottom them on Christ
Jesus, the Light of the world ; that by bringing them to
something that was from God in themselves, they might
the better know and judge of Him and themselves. He
had an extraordinary gift in opening the Scriptures. He
would go to the marrow of things, and show the mind,
harmony, and fulfilling of them with much plainness, and
to great comfort and edification. The mystery of the first
and second Adam, of the fall and restoration, of the law
and gospel, of shadows and substance, of the servant's and
son's state, and the fulfilling of the Scriptures in Christ,
and by Christ the true Light, in all that are his, through
the obedience of faith, were much of the substance and
drift of his testimonies. In all which he was witnessed to
be of God ; being sensibly felt to speak that which he had
received of Christ, and was his own experience, in that
which never errs nor fails. But above all, he excelled in
prayer. The inwardness and weight of his spirit, the rev
erence and solemnity of his address and behavior, and the
fewness and fulness of his words, have often struck even

1690.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 283
strangers with admiration, as they used to. reach others
with consolation. The most awful, living, reverent frame
I ever felt or beheld, I must say, was his in prayer. And
truly it was a testimony that he knew and lived nearer to
the Lord than other men ; for they that know Him most,
will see most reason to approach him with reverence and
fear. " He was of an innocent life, no busybody, nor self-seeker,
neither touchy nor critical. What fell from him was very
inoffensive, if not very edifying. So meek, contented, modest,
easy, steady, tender, it was a pleasure to be in his company.
He exercised no authority but over evil, and that every
where, and in all ; but with love, compassion, and long-
suffering. A most merciful man, as ready to forgive, as
unapt to take or give offence. Thousands can truly say he
was of an excellent spirit and savor among them ; and be
cause thereof, the most excellent spirits loved him with an
unfeigned and unfading love.
" He was an incessant laborer : for in his younger time,
he labored much in the word and doctrine and discipline,
in England, Scotland, and Ireland ; — and towards the
conclusion of his travelling services, he visited the churches
of Christ in America, in the United Provinces, and in
Germany, to the convincement and consolation of many.
And besides his labor in the ministry, he wrote much —
but the care he took of the affairs of the church in gen
eral, was very great. He was often where the records of
the business of the church are kept, and where the letters
from the many meetings of God's people over all the world
used to come. Which letters he had read to him, and com
municated them to the meeting weekly held for such ser
vices. And he would be sure to stir them up to answer
them, especially in suffering cases ; showing great sympa
thy and compassion upon all such occasions, carefully look
ing into the respective cases, and endeavoring speedy relief.

284 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1690.
So that the .churches or any of the suffering members
thereof, were sure not to be forgotten or delayed in their
desires, if he were there.
" As he was unwearied, so he was undaunted in his ser
vices for God and his people. He was no more to be moved
to fear than to wrath. His behavior at Derby, Litchfield,
Appleby, before Oliver Cromwell, at Launceston, Scar
borough, &c, did abundantly evidence it.
"But as in the primitive times, some rose up against the
blessed apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ, even from among
those that they had turned to the hope of the gospel — so
this man of God had his share of suffering from some that
were convinced by him, who, through prejudice or mistake,
ran against him, as one that sought dominion over con
science, because he pressed a ready and zealous compliance
with such good and wholesome things as tended to an or
derly conversation about the affairs of the church, and in
their walking before men. That which contributed much
to this ill work, was in some, a grudging of this meek man
the love and esteem he had and deserved in the hearts of
the people ; and weakness in others, that "were taken! with
their groundless suggestions of imposition and blind obedi
ence. In all these occasions, though there was no person
the discontented struck so sharply at, as this good man, he
bore all their weakness and prejudice, and returned not
reflection for reflection ; but forgave them their weak and
bitter speeches, praying for them, that they might have a
sense of their hurt, and see the subtilty of the enemy to rend
and divide, and return into their first love that thought
no ill.
" And truly, I thought God had visibly clothed him with
a divine preference and authority ; and indeed his very
presence expressed a religious majesty ; yet he never abused
it, but held his place in the church of God with great
meekness, and a most engaging humility and moderation.

1690.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 285
For upon all occasions, like his blessed Master, he was a
servant to all ; holding and exercising his eldership in the
invisible power that had gathered them, with reverence to
the Head and care over the body ; and was received only
in that spirit and power of Christ, as the first and chief
elder in this age: who, as he was therefore worthy of
double honor, so for the same reason it was given by the
faithful of this day, because his authority was inward and
not outward, and that he got it and kept it by the love of
God, and power of an endless life. I write my knowledge,
and not report, and my witness is true ; having been with
him for weeks and months together on divers occasions, and
those of the nearest and most exercising nature ; and that
by night and by day, by sea and by land ; in this and in
foreign countries ; and I can say, I never saw him out of
his place, or not a match for every service or occasion. For
in all things he acquitted himself like a man, yea, a strong
man, a new and heavenly-minded man, a divine and a
naturalist, and all of God Almighty's making. I have
been surprised at his questions and answers in natural
things : that whilst he was ignorant of useless and sophis
tical science, he had in him the grounds of useful and com
mendable knowledge, and cherished it everywhere: civil
beyond all forms of breeding, in his behavior ; very tem
perate, eating little, and sleeping less, though a bulky
person. "Thus he lived and sojourned among us. And as he
lived, so he died ; feeling the same eternal power that had
raised and preserved him, in his last moments. So full of
assurance was he, that he triumphed over death ; and so
even in his spirit to the last, as if death were hardly worth
notice, or a mention. He had the comfort of a short ill
ness, and the blessing of a clear sense to the last : and we
may truly say, with a man of God of old, that being dead,
be yet speaketh ; and though now absent in body, he is pre-

286 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1688-90.
sent in spirit : neither time nor place being able to inter
rupt the communion of saints, or dissolve the fellowship
of the spirits of the just."

CHAPTER XXXII.
THE PERSECUTION OF FRIENDS DURING THE CIVIL WARS IN
IRELAND, IN THE REIGN OF JAMES II.
IN the year 1685, that faithful apostle of Ireland, Wil
liam Edmundson, had seen with the eye of faith that
a time of great exercise and trials to Friends was approach
ing, when the carcasses of men would even be spread as
dung upon the earth. And being under a weighty sense
of the need there was for a fleeing unto "the Strong Hold"
for safety and preservation, he faithfully and plainly warned
Friends and others in many public meetings, and often ad
vised them to lessen their concerns in the world, so as to be
ready to receive the Lord in his judgments which were at
hand. These troubles came in a few short years thickly
upon that distressed island, in all the horrors of civil war.
The Earl of Tyrconnel, then lord deputy of Ireland, dis
armed most of the English, and armed the native Irish,
who were chiefly Papists; so that the Protestants were
struck with fear, and many left their habitations and prop
erty, and fled for England; while others took refuge in
garrisons from the violence which threatened the whole
country. Friends, of course, felt restrained from thus trust
ing to the arm of flesh, and remained at their homes. An
open war soon broke out, and abundance of the Irish who
were not of the army, but went in bands, called Raparees,

1688.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 287
plundered and spoiled many of the English inhabitants
and Protestants, who had remained in their dwellings.
Many of the army also, being countenanced by some of
their officers, became very abusive and violent.
A party of Sir Maurice Eustace's troop coming into the
neighborhood of Mount Melick, went to William Edmund-
son's house, and seizing him by the hair of his head, dragged
him about the yard among their horses' feet, without any
further provocation than the fact of his not being a Papist.
Some of them with clubs, and others with pistols, swore
they would kill him ; which being heard by his wife, she
came out to them in great alarm, and desired them to take
all their property and save the life of her husband.
They then left William and turned after his wife, swear
ing and calling bad names ; shot several times at his mas
tiff dog which was kept chained, and then rode off like
madmen, abusing and beating all the English they met
with, and almost killing some. The poor Protestants be
came much alarmed, and many began to hide themselves
in the woods and bogs, apprehending a general massacre.
At the earnest request of some of the principal inhabit
ants of the town, William Edmundson, with two others,
proceeded at the risk of his life, to Dublin, to lay before
the men in power a statement of the outrages which had
been committed against the inhabitants. Through the
friendship of Lord Chief Justice Nugent, he was admitted
into the presence of Tyreonnel, but was only permitted to
speak of his own wrongs ; they would not listen to any
thing else; and it plainly appeared that their object was
to frighten all the Protestants out of the country, and take
possession of their property and of all power in the island.
He afterwards went to several of the officers of the army,
expostulating with them on the violence of the troopers ;
and was so indefatigable in his representations, that Tyr
eonnel was compelled by the attention publicly excited to

288 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1689.
the matter, reluctantly to give them a hearing; and on
examination, the parties concerned being fully identified,
were disarmed and sent to jail.
Soon after his return home, these troopers had leave from
the jailer and sheriff to come to Mount Melick ; and one
of them went to William's house, to solicit his forgiveness,
saying they would make what satisfaction he pleased. Ac
cordingly going to the town, he expressed to the soldiers
his forgiveness, and a hope that what had occurred would
be a warning to them for the future, desiring them to make
satisfaction to others whom they had similarly abused.
They begged him to write to Lord Nugent, requesting their
pardon, which he did, succeeded in his solicitation, and
gained their gratitude in place of hatred.
This year the trouble daily increased ; most of the lead
ing men among the Protestants were gone, and those who
stayed were afraid of appealing to the government for the
preservation of the country. Anarchy and destruction
stalked abroad, and seemed to threaten the total ruin of
the sober inhabitants ; in a sense of which William Ed
mundson, who was well known to several of the chief men
of the nation, again felt himself religiously called upon to
use his influence with the rulers in behalf of the suffering
Protestants, and in particular for those of his own Society.
He was often accordingly in Dublin, pleading for the op
pressed, and using what interest he had among them for the
public good. The Irish army being now about to proceed
against the Protestants in arms in the north of Ireland, he
with some other Friends in that city earnestly solicited the
principal officers to spare the members of the Society of
Friends, and treat them kindly, as they had not taken up
arms ; which they promised to do, and afterwards fulfilled
their engagement.
The next year (1689) these calamities still increased
The Raparees on one hand, plundered and spoiled many of

1689.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 289
the English ; and on the other hand, the army marching
and quartering took what they pleased from the inhabit
ants, and compelled the families where they came tb set
before them whatever they had, and wait upon them as
servants ; so that many seemed likely to be deprived of
sustenance for themselves and families. King James
coming into Ireland, William Edmundson several times
went to see him, and laid before him the calamities to which
the Protestants were subjected. The king heard him at
tentively, but had it not in his power at that time to restrain
the disorders. Wickedness was let loose through the country ;
and violence and cruelty had so much prevailed that most
of William's Protestant neighbors had been forced from
their homes. Several families took refuge in this Friend's
house, until every room was full. Most of the cattle also
that were left to them they brought to his land, thinking
themselves and their property safer there than elsewhere ;
and his house being thus crowded with refugees, their
situation brought great concern upon him, as they were in
continual danger of losing not only their property, but
also their lives, at the hands of exasperated bands of ruf
fians and bigots.
At the battle of the Boyne, the Irish army being beaten,
many of them fled in the direction of Mount Melick, plun
dering wherever they came. They plundered William
Edmundson's house several times over ; and so violent were
they, that the family were compelled to go out of the way.
William's wife, preferring to venture her own life to save
that of her husband, desired him to secrete himself, lest he
should be killed ; but he could not do it, trusting in the
Lord's protecting arm ; whose secret hand restrained these
murderers, and preserved the lives of his confiding servants.
All his horses were taken away, and whatever else they
could find that suited their rapacious wills.
The next year (1690), notwithstanding a proclamation
25

290 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1690.
from King William, (who had supplanted James II.,) that
such of the Irish as would remain quietly at home should
not be molested, the same disorders continued. The Prot
estants who remained in the neighborhood of William
Edmundson's residence, fled into the parish worship-house
at Rossenallis for safety; but after a while the British
army gaining the ascendancy, a party of three hundred
Protestant soldiers came and drove away about five hun
dred head of cattle and horses, taking also many prisoners.
William Edmundson hearing that one of the prisoners was
about to be hung, on empty suspicion of his being a Raparee,
he took horse and rode swiftly after the soldiers, to endeavor
to prevail on them to relinquish their purpose. After
riding four miles, followed by many of his Irish neighbors
in expectation of getting their cattle and people released,
he came up with the soldiers ; and the two captains per
ceiving who it was, made a halt and met him. He rea
soned with them, and reminded them of the king's procla
mation, and at length persuaded them to promise a release,
if the soldiers could be prevailed on. He then rode with
the captains to the head of the party ; but they were very
angry, and seemed ready to kill the Irish who followed for
their cattle. Whereupon he quitted his horse, and ven
tured with his life in his hand among the rude soldiers, to
save these poor people, and at length, with much ado, and
the captain's assistance, he prevailed with them to release
the greatest part of the booty. He then remounted his
horse, and sought out the man whom they had stripped for
hanging. Having found him, he threw him his riding-
coat to wrap around his almost naked body, and then hunt
ing out the person who had possession of his clothing, he
reasoned with the men and officers on the unmanly action
of stripping a man thus, telling them he had been a soldier
himself, and would have scorned so base an act. By much
persuasion he at length prevailed, so that the soldier had

1690] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 291
to put off the man's clothes and restore them to him ; and
this poor man and some others of the prisoners were re
leased, with all their cattle.
On several occasions, when the English soldiers took
away the cattle of the Irish, William Edmundson per
suaded them to restore them, or bought them off for a small
sum of his own money, to give them back to the owners ;
and he let them pasture their horses on his own land, to
save them from the plunderers.
Towards the latter part of this year, the English army
having gone into winter-quarters, the Irish were more at
liberty, and the Raparees increased. They burned many
excellent houses, and some towns, and killed several of the
Protestants; but through the wonderful mercies of God,
Friends were enabled to hold their meetings regularly,
though many times in danger of their lives in travelling to
and from them. Not more than four Friends were known
to have lost their lives by violence during all this wide
spread calamity.
In the Ninth month (old style) William Edmundson at
tended as usual the Half-year's National Meeting at Dub
lin, where a spirit of thankful rejoicing prevailed among
Friends, in having been preserved through so many dan
gers to meet each other once more. During the meeting,
tidings were brought to William Edmundson, that the Rap
arees had taken about twenty of his cows, but that none of
his family were hurt. When the service of that meeting
was over, he returned home, and found his wife and family
well ; but spoil and cruelty increased, and imminent dan
gers seemed to hover over them. Yet he dared not to re
move, considering that his example was much looked at,
and that his removal would discourage not only Friends,
but the English neighbors around, who thought they were
safer for his remaining in his place. And he also believed
that one hair of his head should not fall without God's
providence.

292 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1690.
On the 23d of the month, he went to Colonel Biarly, then
governor of Mount Melick, and told him of the danger to
which they were exposed, expecting every night to have his
house burnt down ; but this man took little notice of it ;
and that same night, while William and his family were
asleep, some hundreds of Raparees beset his house, firing
several shots in at the windows. The noise was heard at
Mount Melick, two miles distant, and several went to the
governor to request a party of men to render him succor ;
yet he not only refused to grant it, but when a certain lieu
tenant voluntarily offered to relieve him or lose his own
life, he even threatened to hang any man that would leave
the garrison. So the Raparees set fire to his house, William
Edmundson remaining in it until much of it was de
stroyed. When the fire would not permit them to stay
longer, he made conditions with these lawless people, and
opening the doors, went out. But they soon broke their
.engagements, though bound by many oaths, and took what
plunder they could get from the fire, which however had
destroyed the greatest part. One mare was burnt to death
in the stable, and two more were rescued from the flames,
exceedingly scorched. All his cattle they took as booty,
leaving not a single one. They took away his wife's upper
garment, and so left her ; but William and his two sons
they took prisoners, bare-legged and bare-headed, and not
much better than naked. One of them lent him however,
at his request, an old blanket of his own, to wrap about
him, the weather being cold ; and that night they dragged
him and his sons through rough places, bushes, mire, and
water to the knees, whereby their bare feet and legs were
sorely hurt and bruised with the bushes, gravel, and stones.
The next morning they took them into the woods, and
holding a consultation over them, concluded to shoot Wil
liam, and to hang his two sons. He expostulated with
them on the injustice of their conduct, appealing to many

1690.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 293
that knew him and his family, challenging them all to
prove that either he or his sons had wronged any of their
country -people in the smallest matter during all these
troubles, and on the contrary reminding them that he had
done what he could to protect them, sometimes with the
hazard of his life, among the English soldiers. Several of
them acknowledging that they knew he was an honest man,
he told them that if he died they were his witnesses that
he was innocent, and God would avenge his blood. They
proceeded, nevertheless, in their murderous preparations,
blindfolding his sons to hang them ; and having prepared
two fire-locks to shoot William, they came to blindfold him
also. But he calmly told them they need not do that, for
he could look them in the face, and was not afraid to die.
At this juncture there came up one Lieutenant Richard
Dunn, whose father William Edmundson had got released,
together with his cattle, from the English soldiers, and
whose brother was the man whom William had so remark
ably saved from death and got released when he was
stripped to be hanged. This Lieutenant Dunn, expecting
to obtain preferment, determined to carry the prisoners to
Athlone, which was twenty miles distant ; and so the Al
mighty defeated their intention of taking the lives of these
innocent men. Dunn taking possession of them, kept them
three nights at a cabin on the way, cold and without food,
so that even their persecutors wondered how they endured
it. William told them, that they had taken or destroyed
his provisions, and the Lord had fitted him for the priva
tion by taking away his appetite.
As they went through Raghan, there came out of a cabin
an ancient Irishman, who looked on William with a sor
rowful countenance. William asked him if he could give
him a piece of bread, knowing his sons were very hungry.
The man replied that he would give him some bread, if he
had to buy it with gold, for he did not believe William was
25* "

294 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1690.
one that was accustomed to beg his bread. So he went into
the cabin, and brought a piece of extremely coarse bread,
expressing regret that he had nothing else to offer him ; on
which William, telling him that it was very acceptable,
gave it to his sons. That night they got straw to lodge on,
and consequently rested well ; and the next day they came
to Athlone. On their entrance into the main street of the
town, they were saluted by a mob, encouraged by the high
sheriff of the county, with the epithets of traitors, rebels,
&c. ; and scarcely escaped injury. They were taken to the
main guard, and afterwards to the castle, before the gov
ernor and chief officers. William Edmundson coming in,
wrapped in the old blanket, the governor asked him where
he lived, and what was his name ; to which replying that
he was old William Edmundson, the governor stood up,
and with tears in his eyes said he was sorry to see him
in that condition, for he knew him well, having been some
times at his house ; and the lieutenant who brought them
there accusing them of things which he could not prove,
the governor placed William and his fellow-prisoners in
charge of another officer, and sent them some refreshment.
But having nothing to lie upon but the bare floor, without
even straw to cover it with, and the weather being very
severe, and they very destitute of clothing, William would
-probably have fallen a sacrifice to the hardships he en
dured, but for the succor providentially afforded by that
Divine Hand who never yet forgot the wrestling seed of
Jacob in their time of need.
A Friend named John Clibborn, residing about six
miles from the town, who had himself been so sorely plun
dered that he had but little clothing left, hearing of Wil
liam's confinement, was moved to visit him. When he saw
this venerable man in that distressed condition, he wrung
his hands with sympathetic emotion, crying out that they
had taken prisoner as honest a man as trod on the earth.

1690.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 295
The next day he brought them some food ; but still they
could get no straw to lie upon ; and William was much
spent, and so grieved with the profanity of this wicked
crew, that he desired rather to die quietly in a dungeon,
than to continue among them. John Clibborn wrote to the
governor to desire that he would either bring William to a
fair trial, or suffer him to be removed into the dungeon.
The governor, however, still expressed his sorrow, that so
honest a man as he believed him to be, should be so op
pressed ; but he dared not release him, for there were many
eyes over him, and yet he could not find in his heart to
commit him to the dungeon. But John Clibborn perse
vering in his efforts for the relief of his friend, offered to be
answerable by all that he possessed, for William's appear
ance, if he might be allowed to take him with him to his
house ; to which at length the governor assenting, the pris
oners gladly changed their quarters for the house of their
friend. In the beginning of the Twelfth, or as it was then called
the Tenth month, William Edmundson's wife ventured to
the ruins of their late abode, with a number of horses, and
some English neighbors, in order to bring off a stock of
hides and leather from the tan-yard, which had escaped
destruction when the house was burnt. Whilst they were
loading the leather, they were attacked by a party of Rapa
rees, who carried off the property and compelled them to
run for their lives. But William's wife being ancient, and
not able to escape, they overtook her, and stripping her
entirely of clothing, left her in that cold time of the year
under the necessity of going two miles naked ; from which
exposure she was taken ill, and never recovering her health,
died in a few months afterwards. These Raparees threat
ened to burn the town of Mount Melick, but the next day
they were attacked by the English soldiers, their two lead
ers were killed, and their wicked project was frustrated.

296 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1690.
During William Edmundson's stay at John Clibborn's,
many of the Irish came daily to get what they could ; and
a Colonel Bourk also came with about three hundred men,
to intercept the English. This man showed kindness to
William, and soon going to Athlone, procured his discharge
from the governor. But there were still those abroad who
had evil designs against this upright man, and who scrupled
not the most wicked means to put them in execution. Soon
after his return to Mount Melick, he narrowly escaped an
ambush, laid for the purpose of taking his life. Eight or
nine Raparees secreted themselves about the road from that
place to Rossenallis, near which place were the ruins of his
former habitation, and procured some to endeavor to per
suade him to go to Rossenallis, under various pretexts. He
was however restrained by an unseen hand, from yielding
to their importunities ; and the next morning, three other
persons passing by the place of ambush, were shot at, one
of them being killed on the spot, and the others dragged
into the woods and barbarously murdered. Thus the Lord
preserved his servant out of the hands of cruel and blood
thirsty men. The Irish Papists, that night, generally joined
the Raparees ; as indeed it would appear that from the
first they had been the instigators of the insurrection. The
English troops however began now gradually to suppress
them, and the roads became safer for travellers. William
Edmundson went into the north with some other Friends,
on a religious visit to their fellow-members in that section ;
and during his journey, he observed where the hostile
armies had been engaged in the work of mutual destruc
tion, that many bones appeared on the ground, and tufts
of rank grass had grown from the carcasses of men, as if it
had been from heaps of manure ; so that he was led to re
mind Friends of what he had some years before publicly
and prophetically declared, "that the Lord would spread
the carcasses of men as dung upon the face of the earth ; "
which was now literally fulfilled.

1690.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 297
The above-mentioned John Clibborn was one who, though
at one time strongly prejudiced against the Society of
Friends, had joined this despised people, from a settled con
viction of duty, and became a serviceable member thereof.
He was born in the county of Durham, England, in 1623,
and when about twenty-six years of age, went into Ireland as
a soldier in the army of Oliver Cromwell. Here he married,
and settled at Moate-a-Grenoge. The people called Quakers
established a meeting on part of his property. He was much
displeased at this ; and looking on them, in the pride and
ignorance of his heart, with aversion and contempt, he deter
mined to burn down their meeting-house, and thus to clear
them from his premises. Accordingly, he provided himself
with fire, and went thither at a time when he supposed there
would be no one in the meeting-house : but to his surprise,
he found the Friends assembled in solemn worship, and
one of them, named Thomas Loe, was preaching. Being
suddenly impressed with pew and strange emotions, he put
away the fire, went in, sat down behind the door, and was
sensibly touched by the solemn covering over the assembly,
and the power which accompanied the words spoken. On
his return home, his wife asking him if he had burned the
Quakers' meeting-house, he told her, "No;" and even pro
posed her accompanying him thither the next First-day.
They both accordingly went, and Thomas Loe again
preached. John Clibborn, and his wife, both received the
truth of his doctrine into their hearts, and eventually be
came members of that Society which had been the object
of such displeasure and dislike. This was about the year
1658. John, some time afterwards, attended a General
Meeting in the above-mentioned meeting-house, and per
ceiving it inconveniently crowded, promised Friends that
they should have a larger house the next time ; and accord
ingly built a meeting-house at his own expense, which, with
a burial-place adjoining, he bequeathed to Friends forever.

298 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1690.
John Clibborn's situation in the time of the civil wars
was peculiarly perilous ; being, as we have seen, only a few
miles from Athlone, where the Irish army had established
one of their principal garrisons, whence they issued in par
ties to distress and plunder the country. John and his
friends continued at great hazard, to keep up the religious
meetings at his house ; and here he remained for some
time, affording succor and hospitable assistance to many in
distress, and endued with the patience and courage of the
Christian. But at length his own day of suffering arrived.
His house was beset in the night by a party of violent men,
who dragged him by the hair of his head from that home
which had so often afforded an asylum to the distressed, but
which was now devoted to plunder and the flames. His
life was attempted three times, by those bloodthirsty men,
who at length, desperate in their wickedness, laid his head
on a block, and raising the hatchet, prepared to strike the
fatal blow. He requested a little time. His request was
granted. The pious man kneeled down, and in the words
of the martyr Stephen, prayed that this sin might not be
laid to their charge. With the prospect of a better world
before him, he prayed not for his own life. Just then
another party arrived, and inquiring, "Who have you got
there?" were answered, "Clibborn." — "Clibborn!" re
echoed they, " a hair of his head shall not be touched ! "
He was then set at liberty, and having been stripped almost
naked, he wrapped a blanket about him, and presenting
himself before the commanding officer at Athlone, informed
him of the treatment he had met with. The officer desired
John to point out the men who had committed this outrage,
"and they should be hanged before his hall-door." But
this the benevolent sufferer refused to do ; declaring that,
owing them no ill-will, he desired not to do them the small
est injury ; and that all he wanted was, that his neighbors
and himself might be allowed to live unmolested.

1691.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 299
Many other instances of unprovoked and patient suffer
ing occurred during this calamitous period ; but those
which we have detailed, may be sufficient to show the fidel
ity with which Friends adhered to their principles, and the
divine protection which rewarded their faithfulness.

CHAPTER XXXIII.
ACCOUNT OF THOMAS STORY'S CONVINCEMENT
IN the year 1691, Thomas Story, a native of Cumber
land, joined the Society of Friends, from immediate
conviction of the truth of their principles, and not from
the outward ministry of any instruments. He had had
the advantage of a liberal education, as his father had de
signed him for the practice of the law. Having an early
inclination to solitude and religious though tfulness, he de
lighted in reading the Holy Scriptures, and spent many
hours in their perusal. He was, however, in accordance
with the usual routine of a genteel education in that day,
set to learn . fencing and music ; by which he found his
mind drawn away from serious considerations, and habits
and associations contracted, which were unfavorable to
religion. He was next placed with a counsellor in the country, to
commence his studies of law, preparatory to entering one
of the inns of court ; and being situated in a sober and re
ligious family, of the most moderate sort of Presbyterians,
he had again the advantage of solitude, and little exposure
to company ; so that he recovered in some degree his for
mer seriousness. And though he indulged himself at times

300 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1691.
in some youthful airs, yet through divine grace he was pre
served from gross evils, and his agreeable manners gained
him respect with all the family.
He had been educated among the Episcopalians; but
his mind being intent on investigating truth, he was enabled
to perceive that some of their practices were relics of super
stition, and in no way conducive to the advancement of
pure religion. For when the family moved from the coun
try into Carlisle, and he had frequent opportunity of at
tending the public worship, especially in the cathedral, the
congregation turning their faces towards the east at the
repetition of the apostles' creed, and at the mention of the
word Jesus bowing and kneeling toward the altar-table,
surmounted as it was with the letters I. H. S.* painted on
the wall ; these forms gave him uneasiness, as they appeared
to him to be relics of Popery ; and although he continued
to go thither for a while, yet he could not comply with
several of the ceremonies in use. Afterwards, being in
vited to the christening (as it was called) of a relation's
child, his mind was renewedly offended at the ceremony of
baptizing the infant with water, as he apprehended that
we have neither precept nor example in Scripture for that
practice, and saw the impropriety of placing any reliance
thereon, as producing regeneration.
Being attentive to the reproofs of instructio"n felt in the
secret of his soul, he experienced them to be a law con
demning those thoughts, expressions, passions, and affec
tions, which belong to the first nature, and are rooted in
the carnal mind. The spiritual warfare was begun, which
was to bring into captivity every thought to the obedience
of Christ ; and in which the spirit of judgment and of
burning was to pass upon the lust of the flesh, the lust of
the eye, and the pride of life. The elegant airs of a well-
* The initials of the words, "Jesus Hominum Salvalor," Jesus, the
Saviour of Men.

1691.J THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 301
bred youth, his strength, activity, and comeliness of person ;
his mental endowments, and competent acquisition of lit
erary knowledge; and even the glory, preferments, and
friendships of the world, which were beginning to fawn upon
him, were all to be given up, and thrown as it were," to the
moles and to the bats," that the Lord alone might be exalted
in his renewed and quickened soul. And as he followed on to
know the Lord, he was favored from time to time with deeper
and clearer manifestations of the purity of true religion.
To his spiritual eye it was discovered, that the Son of God
was not yet effectually revealed in him, nor "the old man "
sufficiently crucified and slain by the power of the cross.
This sense increased his inward inquiry after essential
truth, and his attention to the monitor in his own breast
for instruction ; as he did not know of any in all the world
to teach him, or that the Lord had any people then on
earth, owned by His presence with them, as his flock and
family. After a season of deep humiliation, being strengthened
to resign himself to the divine will, the Sun of righteous
ness arose in his soul with healing and restoring virtue ;
whereby the carnal mind, with all that belonged to it, self-
love, pride, evil thoughts and desires, with the whole cor
ruption of the first nature, were wounded and slain ; and
his mind became like that of a little child, serene and free
from anxiety. A great alteration was perceived in him ;
but the cause was unknown to his friends. He put off his
usual airs, his jovial conduct and address ; laid aside his
sword, which at that time it was the fashion to wear ; burnt
his musical instruments ; and divesting himself of the su
perfluous part of his apparel, confined himself to what was
decent, plain, and useful. He declined the public worship,
though not with any design to join any other society ; for
he knew not but that these inward manifestations were pe
culiar to himself, and was not acquainted with any people
26

302 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1691.
with whom he could unite. At one time indeed, beginning
to fear lest it might be his own fault, that he did not enjoy
the Lord's presence among the people with whom he had
been accustomed to worship, he determined once more to
make the trial ; and accordingly he went to one of the
Episcopal meeting-houses in Carlisle, and endeavored to
retire mentally, and feel after the divine presence. But he
found himself so enveloped in darkness and distress, that
it was only from regard to decency, that he could prevail
with himself to remain till the worship was ended. He
returned to his chamber in trouble, and went no more
among them. Although, however, he now declined all
merely outward worship, determining to follow the Lord
whithersoever He might see good to lead him ; yet he found
his mind clothed with universal charity and benevolence to
all mankind.
Continuing to seek after God in silence and solitude, he
advanced in religious experience, and his peace and con
solation increased. At a certain time, to his surprise, the
people called Quakers were suddenly brought before his
mind during his solitary meditations, in so impressive a
manner, as to induce a secret inclination to inquire after
them, their principles, and their manner of worship.
In the Fifth month of this year, 1691, an opportunity
presented. Meeting with a member of this Society, he
perceived, on inquiry, no material difference between their
sentiments and his own ; and being invited by the Friend
to accompany him the next day to their meeting at Brough
ton, he willingly complied. The meeting was fully gathered
when they arrived ; and he sat down among the crowd of
people, in inward retirement. Though one of their minis
ters began to speak, yet his attention was particularly
turned to what passed in his own mind, desiring to under
stand whether the Most High owned them with his presence
in their religious assemblies ; and he soon received a 'jon-

1691.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. , 303
vincing evidence of what he desired to know. For not-
long after he sat down among them, the same divine power
with which he had of late been favored in his private
meditations, overshadowed his mind with abundant conso
lation. And as he had been distressed with the prevailing
formality of religious professors, who generally contented
themselves in that kind of religion which was merely the
effect of education or tradition ; he now perceived on the
other hand, and was convinced beyond a doubt, that the
divine presence and holy influence of Truth attended the
greater part of that meeting, and that under the shadow
of the wing of divine power and love they sat with great
delight. He was thus enabled to rejoice with them, in
the view of reformation so far advanced in the earth :
though not long before this, he had thought there was
scarcely any true and living faith, or knowledge of God in
the world.
From this time he continued to attend their meetings ;
and becoming more intimately acquainted with them, he
felt the bonds of near unity with them strengthened, and
was not ashamed openly to acknowledge himself a member
of this despised Society, on the following occasion.
At the time of the assizes at Carlisle, an acquaintance
applied to him, in regard to a suit he had to come on the
next day, involving the greater part of his property ; and
Thomas being the only witness for the deeds of convey
ance, whom he could at present procure, he desired him
not to fail giving his attendance at the court early the
next morning. Thomas, in answer to this request, said to
the man, for whom he had a friendly regard, and saw that
his case was a hard one : " I am concerned it should fall
out so ; but I will appear, if it please God, and testify
what I know in the matter, and do what I can for you in
that way ; but I cannot swear." At this answer, the man,
in a passion, replied with an oath : "What! you are not a

304 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1691.
Quaker, sure ? " As Thomas had hitherto neither received
from others, nor assumed for himself this appellation, nor
indeed as yet had seen whether he had so much unity with
all their tenets as to justify him in adopting the name, he
continued silent for a while, and attentive to the Spirit of
Truth in his own mind, till clear in his understanding what
reply to make; and then he said, "I must confess the
truth — I am a Quaker."
This plain confession increased his own peace, but his ac
quaintance's perplexity and vexation, whose case appeared
to himself thereby rendered desperate ; so that in the height
of his anger, he threatened to have Thomas fined and pro
ceeded against with the utmost rigor, exclaiming, " What !
must I lose my estate for your groundless notions and
whims?" Thomas was not free from anxiety in conse
quence of this threat, under the prospect of probable fine
and imprisonment; but after some time of silent medita
tion, he felt strength to resign himself to the divine dis
posal, and therein found his anxiety vanish, and his mind
centre in serenity. The next morning, as he was going to
the court-house to give his testimony, his acquaintance met
him with a cheerful countenance, and in a very different
disposition from the night before, and informed him that
his adversary had yielded the cause, and they were agreed,
to his satisfaction.
He continued diligently to attend the meetings of this
people ; where, in silent worship, his heart was frequently
tendered and broken, and at times, likewise, under a pow
erful living ministry. Some years after he had joined
Friends, he himself received a gift in the ministry ; and he
devoted much of the remainder of his life to travelling in
the service of the gospel, on both sides of the Atlantic.
Few of his contemporaries were more diligent, or more es
teemed for their gospel labors ; and the meetings which he
visited were frequently attended by a numerous concourse
of people of other professions.

1692.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 305
He gave up his profession as an attorney, perceiving that
the practice of the law, and being continually mixed up in
the frequent suits and contests of worldly men, would dis
turb the peace and serenity of his mind, expose him to
many temptations, and probably be the means of prevent
ing his advancement in religious experience, and present an
obstruction to the fulfilling of his religious duties.

CHAPTER XXXIV.
THE LABORS OF JOSEPH PIKE AND OTHERS IN IRELAND,
FOR A REFORMATION FROM THE SPIRIT AND HABITS
OF THE WORLD.
THE well known testimony of the Society of Friends to
Christian simplicity, arose not from any desire for sin
gularity or distinction from the rest of mankind ; but was
the necess.ary result of a clear view of the self-denial and
redemption from the fashions and customs of a vain world,
required of the followers of Christ. The most serious re
ligious people, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries,
had from conscientious motives discarded the frivolous
ornaments of attire which were very generally indulged
in, and had adopted a plain, simple and useful style of
dress. From among these, the Society of Friends in the
beginning was chiefly gathered ; and for a considerable
time, it would appear that they were not greatly distin
guished from them by their apparel. But their principles
restrained them from following the changeable fashions
of the world ; and as others varied from time to time, their
own continued adherence to the simple mode of dress into
which they had been led, produced, in process of time, a
26*

306 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1692.
marked distinction between Friends and the rest of the
community. Thus this Christian testimony arose into a
more prominent point of view than, from the above circum
stances, it had held when the members were recently gath
ered ; though George Fox had at an early date declared
against indulging in gay attire, and encouraged his friends
to faithfulness in this respect.
This testimony to Christian simplicity was not confined
to personal attire alone, but extended to the furniture of
houses, and the general life and conversation ; and for
many years after the rise of the Society, a remarkable con
sistency of conduct was apparent among the members gen
erally. Isaac Penington once challenged the production of
a single instance among Friends, of one who was taken
captive by the spirit of the world, and thereby led under
the power of covetousness. But alas ! this beautiful exam
ple of a whole society of people bearing with one accord in
their bodies the marks of the dying of the Lord Jesus, of a
crucifixion to the world and a deaf ear to its false allure
ments, gradually became clouded over. Temporal prosper
ity was the portion of many Friends, whose children, grow
ing up in ease and affluence, began to despise the cross
which their parents had faithfully borne. Little by little,
things crept in among families, which the pure word of
truth could not sanction ; there was an eager pursuit of
business, bringing great encumbrance upon the minds of
some who might otherwise have been eminently serviceable
in the church ; and a luxurious tasty spirit got afloat,
which craved to have household furniture, and even per
sonal clothing, more delicate and showy than what pure
Christian simplicity would have led into. Some faithful
men and women in various places saw the inroads which
the enemy was thus silently making in a camp, which
had nobly withstood all the powers of persecution, and had
held up, through evil report, a banner for the truth of God.

1692.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 307
In Ireland particularly about the year 1692 was a standard
raised against these inroads, and some advances were made
towards a reformation. That eminent instrument for the
gathering and preservation of the Society in this island,
William Edmundson, with Joseph Pike and Samuel Ran
dall, felt deeply concerned for the revival of ancient sim
plicity, and began to arouse their brethren to the necessity
of a united effort for this very desirable object. They had,
however, great difficulties to encounter. Many had gone
out into extravagant furniture and apparel, to gratify the
natural mind in things which the Divine Spirit in the be
ginning had led Friends to put away. Some from wearing
dresses of plain colors, had got lighter ones ; and others
seeing these, had themselves gone a degree further, adding
a small or a larger figure ; until at length such vain fash
ionable colors and patterns were indulged in, and so ex
cessively fine and superfluous furniture, that many could
scarcely be recognized as belonging to the Society.
At length the attention of the Half-yearly Meeting in
Dublin was called to the subject ; and under a pressure of
spirit it issued advice to the members, counselling them
against these hurtful things, and exhorting to a faithful
uniting together for solemn waiting in spirit on the Lord ;
to the right education of the children in godliness, indus
try, humility, and self-denial ; and to a solid grave deport
ment, on all occasions, becoming the Christian. It was
also recommended, that every Quarterly Meeting appoint
clean-handed and faithful Friends, who had a true concern
for a reformation, to inspect and visit every particular
meeting, family, and person; and to advise, exhort, and
admonish Friends to a compliance with the advices, as they
found occasion.
Joseph Pike had returned to Cork from* England, under
a strong apprehension of duty to join hand and heart in
the work of reformation. Being a young man, he had

308 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1692.
felt much diffidence of his own fitness for undertaking such
a work ; it was very trying to him to have to appear as
one of the foremost ; and he often said in his heart, " Oh,
that I could shelter myself under some worthy elders!
then would I heartily assist them in spirit, and, as under
their wing, do what little I could." But being appointed
by his meeting with other Friends, to this weighty and
arduous work, he heartily joined his brethren in first search
ing their own houses, and clearing themselves from marks
of superfluity or luxury; so that they might with clean
hands go to exhort their fellow-members to greater sim
plicity, and accordance with their holy profession. In
doing this, they had to part with many things which the
world esteemed lawful, but which they believed were stand
ing in the way of entire conformity to the will of Him,
who seeketh a people crucified to the spirit of the world
and the gratifications of the carnal mind. Not that they
placed religion barely in outward conformity and plain
ness. Far otherwise — they were well aware that though
we may outwardly conform in everything to which the
Holy Scriptures direct us, or that may have been practised
or advised by the worthy men who were instrumental in
raising up this people in the beginning ; yet if our hearts
are not right in the sight of God; and we do not wit
ness a grafting into the true Vine, and a growth in the
holy Truth, all the external conformity and plainness in
the world, though good in itself, will avail us nothing as to
divine acceptance, but be as sounding brass and a tinkling
cymbal. Yet they were equally convinced that true re
ligion leads into a deep searching of heart and of the secret
springs of action, and allows not of the fostering of those
natural propensities which have a life in show and parade,
in delicacy and superfluity ; but leads us to deny ourselves,
and by a holy and circumspect walking, to redeem the time,
and to testify our heartfelt conviction, that "we have hero

1692.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 309
no continuing city," no permanent abiding-place, but that
" we seek one to come," as the chief and all-absorbing good.
And though some might frivolously argue, "Where is the
standard of plainness and simplicity; and what is the
exact rule by which we are to square ourselves ; or who are
the proper judges of what is our duty in these respects,
but ourselves?" these would nevertheless find, if they were
really willing to obey, without reserve, the inspeaking Word
in the deep recesses of the heart, that the Spirit of Truth
is sufficient to guide in these as in all other things, and
that it will so guide those who sincerely desire to be made
conformable to Christ's death, into a holy consistency, and
a certain degree of uniformity, by which they shall be
known to be one another's brethren in that which changeth
not ; and will produce a tenderness and caution to be pre
served from even edging or tending towards the side of a
luxurious world, in copying after its vain and foolish
fashions. They would see also that the church has au
thority, under its blessed Head, to claim the consistent
walking of all its professed members, with their high and
holy calling.
The committee thus appointed, after first searching their
own houses, and clearing their hearts to each other in great
freedom, proceeded in the work with a deep concern for the
prosperity of truth, and the welfare of the members. They
visited every family of Friends, and those who attended the
meetings of Friends in the city of Cork, sitting down in
quietness together with them ; and as they found a concern
to come upon their minds, giving them advice and counsel
suitable to their respective states ; particularly exhorting
them to keep close to the witness for God, the gift and
measure of His Holy Spirit in their souls, whereby they
might come to experience a growth in His holy truth ; and
the inside being thus made clean, the outside would be
clean also. The Lord owned them in their service, break-

310 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1692.
ing in upon the spirits of those visited as well as the vis
itors, by his living and powerful presence, to the bowing of
many hearts into tenderness ; so that some would acknowl
edge their deficiencies, and in brokenness of heart desire to
be found more faithful. No opposition appeared in any of
the families visited, but a general condescension to put
away superfluities ; so that in a short time there was a
pretty thorough reformation in that city, as to things that
Were contrary to truth and the rules of the Society.
After this, Joseph Pike and other Friends visited the
province of Munster generally, more than once, and found
a general disposition to accede to the concern and counsel
of the committee. And similar visits were performed by
committees in the other provinces, with the same blessed
result.

CHAPTER XXXV.
THE APOSTASY OF GEORGE KEITH.
THE unsound and dangerous notion, that a man once
under the powerful influence of the Grace of God can
not fall therefrom, received a signal contradiction in the
melancholy instance of George Keith ; whose history is an
instructive warning to those who may have tasted largely
" of the good word of life, and the powers of the world to
come ; " lest wandering from the place of watchfulness, and
giving way to a spirit of self-exaltation, they become vainly
puffed up by their supposed attainments, and fall into the
snares ever laid for the feet of the unwary.
George Keith had been an eminent instrument in the

16Q2.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. oil
pi the ring of the people called Quakers from the barren
mountains of empty profession, to the green pastures and
still waters of pure and life-giving Christianity. He was
a native of Scotland, and had received a liberal education
in the university of Aberdeen; and having joined the So
ciety of Friends, was called into the ministry, and suffered
imprisonment for his testimony to the truth, so early as
1664. The next year, believing: it required of him to enter
the steeple-house at Aberdeen with a gospel message, he
was there violently assaulted and beaten to the ground by
the bell-ringer. Shortly after this, the bell-ringer going
up the steeple to toll the bell, fell through a hole above
four stories high, and was instantly killed by the fall, upon
the very same spot of pavement where he had beaten down
George Keith.
George was afterwards, for several years, involved with
numbers of his Friends in confiscations and long imprison
ments for the cause of a pure conscience ; and also exerted
himself, both in verbal disputations and on many occasions
in print, in defence of the principles he had embraced.
Indeed for nearly thirty years he fully participated in the
concerns and sufferings of the Society, and was in unity
with its most esteemed members. But alas ! in a time of
unwatchfulness, the enemy found an entrance into his heart;
he became wavering in mind and impatient under suffer
ings : and was shaken from, his steadfastness in the faith.
That inward turning of the soul constantly towards the
Lord with humble breathings for preservation, in which
alone is true safety, gave way to self-sufficiency and empty
speculations ; and he began to indulge himself in curious,
uncertain, and unprofitable questions, the fanciful notions
of one Van Hehmont, concerning the transmigration of
souls, the resurrection, and other matters calculated to sub
vert the mind, and carry it away from the right object of
its meditation and its love. But finding no room amongst

312 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1692.
his Friends for the propagation of these airy notions, he
let in secret jealousy and contempt, which afterwards broke
out in open opposition and. contention; first with individ
uals, and then with the body at large.
Becoming meanwhile more and more impatient under
the sufferings to which Friends were then subjected, he de
clared that as nothing but persecution was to be met with
in England, he would seek an asylum in a land of liberty ;
and accordingly sailed for America. He had not yet placed
himself in an attitude of open opposition to Friends, and
r-till retained a place in their esteem ; and on his arrival in
Philadelphia he was chosen by Friends to superintend a
school there, with a comfortable remuneration. But his
restless spirit was not satisfied. He aimed at having pre
eminence in the church ; and George Fox having died in
the year 1690, symptoms began to appear in George
Keith's conduct, which led to a conjecture that he was
aiming to succeed that eminent servant of the Lord, at
least in America, in that esteem and influence which he
had so rightly and disinterestedly held in the minds of his
Friends. He even came forward in several instances to
vindicate with his pen before the world, the principles of
the Society, particularly against Cotton Mather, and the
New England Presbyterians. But many of his friends be
came increasingly uneasy with his restless aspiring spirit,
and some were concerned in brotherly love and solicitude
to communicate to him their apprehensions ; and he, find
ing that he could not obtain that pre-eminence which he
coveted, nor carry things in all cases as he pleased in the
church, at length allowed his secret disgust and disappoint
ment to break out into open dissension. He began with
objecting to the discipline which the Society in America
had established ; from this he went to captious remarks
and bitter sarcasms on the general conduct of Friends,
their manner of preaching, &c, and soon raised a contest

1692.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 313
with two of his fellow-members. He also undertook to
deny the doctrine which he had before faithfully defended,
that the universal love and grace of God in Christ Jesus is
sufficient, if abode in, to procure salvation, without the
outward knowledge of Christ's death and resurrection.
Friends in England were made acquainted with the
discord which he was thus sowing in America; where
upon George Whitehead, Patrick Livingston and some
others wrote an affectionate epistle to their brethren in
Pennsylvania, earnestly pressing them to " keep the unity
of the Spirit in the bond of peace." and warning them
against disputations on subjects not tending to edification.
But this was not sufficient to stop the efforts which George
was making to obtain a party in his favor. Being baffled
in his principal aim, of taking the lead in the Society, he
let loose his malicious disposition without bounds, and
vented his passionate resentment in illiberal reproaches, in
violation even of decency and common sense. He railed
against Thomas Lloyd, the deputy governor, from whom he
had received many favors, calling him " an impudent man
and pitiful governor," tauntingly asking him why he did
not send him to jail, and otherwise endeavoring to draw
him and other magistrates into some measure which he
might represent as persecution for religion. But the men
he had to deal with were of a different cast, being re
strained by their religious principles from returning railing
for railing ; they bore his reproaches with patience, and ex
erted their endeavors in the spirit of meekness to recover
and pacify him, and prevent an open breach ; but without
success. At length, after quarrelling with various individ
uals, and applying opprobrious epithets freely, as his pas-
sion dictated, he went a step further, and brought a re
proachful charge against a reputable part of the body at
large, accusing a meeting of ministers with coming together
"to cloak heresies and deceit;" and declaring that there
27

314 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1692.
were more heresies and erroneous doctrines among the
Quakers than among any profession of Protestants ; in di
rect contradiction to what he had himself advanced, when
opposing Cotton Mather, within a year from that time.
Hitherto Friends had treated with him in a private way
in much meekness and patience ; but it was now thought
that this public reproach demanded public reparation;
which George contemptuously refusing to make, the
Monthly Meeting of Philadelphia proceeded to disown
him. This they did by a testimony addressed to the sev
eral Monthly and Quarterly Meetings, containing a plain
narration of his offensive conduct, and of the reasons of
their procedure.
George having succeeded in drawing around him a num
ber of discontented spirits like himself, now set up a sepa
rate meeting, which assumed the title of " Christian Qua
kers -and Friends," and made nearly its whole business, the
vilifying of those among whom they had formerly walked
in harmony and fellowship. George had gained over to
his party one William Bradford, the only printer at that
time in Philadelphia, and by his means readily published
his malicious invectives.
His old friends at Aberdeen were much distressed at
hearing of his defection ; and wrote to him and his wife a
tender, expostulatory letter, beseeching them to return into
the unity of the body. It was addressed to " our ancient
Friends George and Elizabeth Keith;" whom they ten
derly reminded how useful they (particularly George) had
been in building up the Lord's church and people in Scot
land ; and after reminding George of his former labor in
demonstrating the free unmerited love of God to all man
kind, and referring him to two of his own treatises, they
added, " How glad should our hearts have been to have
found thee, George, going on, as moved thereunto, to im
prove thy talents, which the Lord hath liberally given

1694.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 315
thee, for further spreading the beauty, fame, excellency,
and loveliness of this precious inward plant of renown;
and so edifying, comforting, and strengthening the flock of
Christ, as in pastures of love, that the beauty of the love
of brethren in unity might flow as sweet ointment, to make
the lamp of truth shine with lustre throughout the world, —
as in due time we believe it shall." — " O George! bear with
us in love, for we can say it is in tender breakings of heart
we utter it, and in tender breathings for thee, that if that
sweet, healing, meek, self-denying spirit of lowly Jesus had
been kept and abode in, your breaches thereaway would
have been handled after another manner ; and such a sad
occasion to amuse the world, sadden the hearts of God's
children, and rejoice the enemies of Zion's peace and pros
perity, had never been told in Gath, nor published in As-
kelon." Here they appeared to allude to some of his pub
lications pretending to set forth his grievances, which it is
probable he had sent to Aberdeen ; and with other affec
tionate judicious counsel, they thus 'concluded: "So, our
dear and ancient Friends, we earnestly desire you to re
ceive in a right mind our innocent freedom and love : and
in the cool of the day, go forth again with your brethren
into the ancient green pastures of love, and to the healing
springs of life ; giving up to fire and sword that which is
for it ; so the first and the last works shall be precious to
gether; then 'righteousness and peace shall kiss each other.'
And we can say, appealing to the Lord our God, the
searcher of hearts, our joy shall be great, to hear that the
sweet, healing and uniting life hath or shall make up all
those breaches in Israel's camp, by all of us submitting to
it, and the true judgment thereof in His church. And in
this sweet, ancient spring of our Father's love, wherein we
have often been sweetly refreshed together, many years ago,
shall we truly rejoice to hear from you, and also to see
your faces, who remain your friends and well-wishers."

316 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1694.
But neither did the tender entreaties of these his early
fellow-laborers avail to stop his angry career. In the
spring of 1694, he returned to England, in hopes appar
ently of gaining upon the good will of Friends there. But
after a patient investigation of his case, which occupied
nearly ten days, the Yearly Meeting of London came to
the conclusion that the fault lay at George Keith's door ;
and charged him to retract his accusations, call in those
malicious books of his by which the Society had been tra
duced, and sincerely use his best endeavors to terminate
the separation. He rejected, however, this advice of the
Yearly Meeting, and endeavored to rend the Society in
England ; but his rude and intemperate conduct frustrated
his intentions, and he gained but few adherents. The next
Yearly Meeting, seeing that he went on still in his dis
orderly course, confirmed the judgment of Friends of
Philadelphia, by issuing themselves a testimony against
him. He was now totally separated from the Society, and set
up in London a separate meeting at Turner's Hall, con
tinuing to write against Friends ; who, however, found an
able advocate in Thomas Ellwood. George having for
some time endeavored to court the favor of the Episcopal
clergy, and raised their hopes of his bringing over to their
communion, many of his late fellow-members, was after a
time ordained a priest by the bishop of London, and re
ceived employment as a curate. His party in America
dwindled away; and when, in 1701, he was sent over
thither as a missionary, he met with little success, and was
looked on with disdain. Returning in about a year to
England, he received the benefice of Edberton in Sussex.
But his restless spirit involved him in contention with his
parishioners about the tithes : for displaying an unusually
extortionate disposition, and extending his claim to the very
utmost, even to the tenth of the eggs of a single fowl, and

1714.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 317
of the garden roots of the poorest inhabitant, he lost the
affections of his hearers, who were quite disgusted with his
meanness and avarice. He fell into general disrepute, and
many of his neighbors were accustomed to say, they should
be glad if the Quakers would take him back again, so that
they might be rid of so turbulent a spirit.
There is ground to hope, that near his latter end, he had
some hours of serious reflection, wherein he was sensible of
the peaceful state he had once enjoyed in fellowship with
Friends, and felt remorse for its loss ; for, paying a visit to
Hurst-pierpoint, and a conversation arising concerning the
Quakers, he owned before several persons, " that since he
had left them, he had lost one qualification they had
amongst them, that in their religious meetings they could
stop all thoughts which hindered their devotions, which he
very much admired he could never attain to since." And
near the close of his life, a Friend paid him a visit ; which
he appeared to receive kindly, amongst other remarks ex
pressing himself to this effect : " I wish I had died when I
was a Quaker, for then I am sure it would have been well
with my soul." His decease is supposed to have occurred
about the year 1714.
This case of George Keith is one of deep instruction. A
neglect of inward watchfulness and daily self-denial had
left his mind exposed to the darkening cloud of specula
tive error ; and the pride of a deceived heart prevented
his accepting in meekness the labors of love extended for
his recovery. " Let him that thinketh he standeth, take
heed lest he fall." But the downfall of individuals is not
the downfall of the church. This is founded on a rock,
and the Lord can still " send the rod of his strength out of
Zion, and rule in the midst of his enemies." Let there
fore, the humble, careful traveller be encouraged to look
to the great Head of the church, and endeavor to stand
faitnful to His cause, watching over his own heart, lest at
27*

318 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1694.
any time the cares of this world, and the deceitfulness of
riches, and the lusts of other things, entering in, choke the
word, and it become unfruitful;" — "looking diligently,
lest any man fail of the grace of God ; lest any root of
bitterness springing up, trouble " the church, " and thereby
many be defiled."

CHAPTER XXXVI.
peter Gardiner's journey to Scotland, and death.
IN the year 1694, Peter Gardiner, a Friend who lived in
Essex, England, had a religious concern to visit Scot
land ; but being low in circumstances, and having a wife
and several children, was under discouragement about it.
The Lord in mercy condescended to remove his doubts, by
letting him know He would be with him ; and though he
had no horse to ride, and was but a weakly man, yet that
He would give him strength to perform the journey, and
sustain him so that he should not want for what was suf
ficient. Having faith in the Divine promise, he laid his
concern before the Monthly Meeting to which he belonged,
with innocent weight; and Friends concurring with him
therein, he took his journey along the east side of the
nation, through Norfolk, Lincolnshire, and Yorkshire;
and coming to a meeting in Bridlington, where John Rich
ardson then resided, he lodged at his house. In the even
ing, the doors being shut, Peter asked him " if any Friend
lived that way," pointing with his finger. John told him
he pointed towards the sea, which was not far distant.
Peter said he believed he must go and see somebody that

1694.J THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 319
way in the morning. John asking him if he should go
with hirn^ he replied that he believed it would not be best,
and so went to bed.
In the morning, when John's wife had prepared break
fast, their guest not appearing, he thought he would go to
his chamber and see if the Friend were well ; but to his
surprise, he found that he was gone. Soon afterwards
Peter came in ; to whom John said, " Thou hast taken a
morning walk ; come to breakfast." Before they had done
eating, a Friend from the harbor, which lay in the direc
tion to which Peter Gardiner had pointed overnight, came
in, and said, "I wonder at thee, John, to send this man
with such a message to my house ; " and related as follows,
viz. : " That he came to him as he was standing at the fish-
market-place, looking on the sea to observe the wind, and
he asked him if he would walk into his house ? To which
Peter answered, that he came for that purpose. This was
in the twilight of the morning. When he went into the
house, Peter inquired whether his wife were well ; to which
the man answered, that she was sick in bed, and invited
him to go in and see her. He said, he came so to do.
Being conducted into the chamber, he sat down by the
sick woman; and after a short time told her, that the
resignation of her mind was accepted instead of the deed,
and that she was excused from the journey which had been
before her mind, and should die in peace with God and
man. Then turning to her husband, he said, 'Thy wife
had a concern to visit the churches beyond the sea ; but
thou would'st not give her leave; so she shall be taken
from thee ; ' adding, ' Thy wife will be happy ; but behold,
the Lord's hand is against thee, and thou shalt be blasted
in whatsoever thou doest, and reduced to want thy bread.' "
The man seemed angry with John Richardson, who said to
him, " Be still, and weigh the matter ; for I knew not of
the Friend's going to thy house, but thought he was in

320 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1694.
bed ; and did not inform him about thee nor thy wife ; "
at which he went away.
Peter pursued his journey towards Scotland, John Rich
ardson and another Friend going with him to Scarborough,
on horseback, for he would not let them go on foot with
him. He kept before them as fast as they chose to ride ;
and when they had gone about halfway, he gained on
them, and John was filled with admiration, for he seemed
to go with more lightness and ease than ever he had seen
any man before. Riding fast to overtake him, he re
marked, " thou dost travel very fast ; " to which Peter re
plied, " My Master told me, before I left home, that He
would give me hind's feet, and he hath performed his
promise to me."
When they came in sight of Scarborough, Peter said,
" Do take me to some Friend's house — a Friend's indeed
— for I am greatly distressed." John replied, " I will
take thee to the place where I lodge, and if thou art not
easy there, I will go until we find a place, if it may be."
And just as they entered the door, they heard some one
go up stairs ; and the woman of the house coming down,
invited them to be seated. In a little while, Peter ap
peared very uneasy, and said to John, " I cannot stay in
this house: here is light and darkness — good and bad."
After the woman had got them some refreshment, she came
and asked John, "Who hast thou brought here?" — "A
man of God," he replied; whereupon they went away.
Peter had a meeting at Scarborough the next day, and had
good service. He also went to several Friends' houses, and
frequently spoke his sense of the state of the families ; but
as they were about entering one house, he stopped and said
to John, " My Master is not there — I will not go in ; " so
they turned away. When John was about leaving him to
return home, Peter asked him " if the small-pox was in
any town on his way?" John replied, "Why? Peter,

1694.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 321
what hast thou to do with that ? " To which he answered,
" I am satisfied I shall die of that distemper ; and my
Master told me to make speed in this visit, for I had but
a short time to do it in." John Richardson was much
affected; and wishing to facilitate Peter's journey, who,
he saw, bore the appearance of a poor man, asked him
how he was prepared in money ; telling him it was expen
sive travelling in Scotland, Friends were thinly scattered,
and the journey was long. Peter answered, " I have
enough : my Master told me I should not want ; and now
a bit of bread or some water from a brook, refreshes me
as much as a set meal at a table." John, however, insist
ing to see how much money he had, found it was but two
half-crowns ; and feeling an immediate impulse to tender
him some money, he took from his pocket a number of
small pieces. Peter modestly refused them, saying he
doubted not his Master's provision; but John forced him
to take it, telling him the Lord had put it into his heart ;
and so they parted.
In about two weeks afterwards, the man's wife at the
sea-shore, before mentioned, died, as Peter had foretold.
At that time, this man had three ships at sea ; his oldest
son was master of one, his second son was on board an
other ; and in their voyages they were all wrecked or
foundered, their cargoes chiefly lost, and his two sons and
several of the hands were drowned. So that, from consider
able affluence, he was soon after reduced so low as to be main
tained by Friends. The woman at whose house Peter was
so uneasy at Scarborough, had put her husband to bed in
a state of intoxication ; which John Richardson had not
before known him to be guilty of.
Peter proceeded into Scotland, and paid a very accept
able visit among Friends of that nation. In the Eleventh
month, he was at Aberdeen, Ury, Montrose, &c, where a
rei-iarkable out-pouring of the gift of the gospel ministry

322 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1694.
attended his labors. Robert Barclay, Jun'r, David, Chris
tian, and Catharine Barclay, Robert Gerard, and Marga
ret Jaffray, among the young, and John Forbes and Jane
Molleson, among the older members, had their mouths
opened to declare of the Lord's goodness, and invite others
to partake of it.
His visit to the neighborhood of Ury was remarkable.
Robert Barclay, the Apologist, as we have seen, was de
ceased, but his widow still resided there, with her seven
children. On. the death of her eminently gifted husband,
George Fox had addressed to his bereaved widow, an epis
tle of affectionate sympathy ; in which, after setting forth
the consolations which flow from a union and communion
with the Lord, the Husband and Father of His people, he
endeavored to encourage her to do her day's work, to put
on strength in the divine name, and to hope for a blessing
on her faithful discharge of duty, as a spiritual nursing-
mother over her household. And further, he subjoined
his fervent prayer, that her children might be established
upon the Rock, Christ Jesus, and thus be favored of the
Most High, through the fervent exercise of their surviving
parent. She was indeed a faithful mother, and lived to
see some of the blessed fruit of her religious care. John
Grattan, who passed several days under her roof about
this time, relates that, " when her children were up in the
morning, she sat down with them before breakfast, and in
a religious manner waited upon the Lord — which pious
care doubtless had its desired effect upon them ; for as they
grew in years, they also grew in the knowledge of the
blessed Truth ; and since that time," he adds, " some of
them are become public preachers thereof." Thus cher
ished and watered, did Peter Gardiner find this group of
young " olive plants," when he entered their abode. His
visit is thus described by some who were present.
"When he came to Ury, he had a meeting there on

1694.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 323
Fourth-aay. From thence he went to Stonehaven on
Fifth-day, being accompanied by most of them of Ury ;
and there he and Andrew Jaffray [who had accompanied
him from Aberdeen] had a good opportunity among the
^people. Thence, we came that night to Springhall ; [a
house on the estate of Ury ;] and had there a good meeting,
only he said, he felt the life stopped in some there, who would
not give up to the Lord's requirings. The same night,
after supper, he had a blessed opportunity with Robert,
David, and Patience Barclay, John Gellie, David Wallace,
and Robert Gerard ; — and Robert Barclay [aged 22 years]
was opened in a few living words of exhortation to the
young people then present, which reached and melted our
hearts in a wonderful manner. He said, it was himself,
who had occasioned the life to be stopped in the foregoing
meeting, by not giving up to the Lord's requirings ; and he
concluded in a few living words of prayer. - — Next day, we
had a blessed meeting among the children ; where Chris
tian Barclay, the younger [aged 14 years], had her mouth
opened in prayer, to the refreshment of us all. That same
day, we had a more general meeting at Ury ; — and on
Seventh-day, we had another blessed meeting among the
children ; and the First-day of the week following, we had
a good meeting, where there were more people than usual ;
and Robert Barclay bore a living testimony among them.
Life so went along with him in it, that it reached the
hearts of many of them, and astonished others. In that
meeting was also his aunt Jane Molleson's mouth opened
in a few words of testimony. That same night, we had a
blessed meeting at Springhall; where David, [aged 12
years,] Catharine, [aged 16 years,] and Christian Barclay,
Jun'r, bore, each of them, a testimony to the Truth. Yet,
notwithstanding all this, our Friend Peter Gardiner could
not obtain ease, but felt the IAfe stopped in one there, and
at last named the person, and desired him to clear himself.

324 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1694.
And so, John Chalmers, their teacher, [aged about 19
years, afterwards an acceptable minister in Dublin,] stood
up, and said a few words by way of testimony. Then
Peter ended the meeting in prayer, and came away easy.
— Next morning, he had his farewell meeting at Ury : and
so he, together with Robert and David Barclay, took his
journey. But as we were parting at the end of the garden,
Robert Barclay had some living words to those who accom
panied us there.
" We came to Montrose that night, where, after we had
rested a while, we had a little meeting. Next morning we
had a meeting among ourselves. About the middle of the
day, we had a meeting of all the Friends of the town ; and
some other people came in : both Peter and Robert Bar
clay preached on that occasion. We had also another
meeting that night, where Peter fully relieved his mind.
Robert and David Barclay both declared the Truth among
them, also John Gellie had some words of prayer. The
substance of the testimonies borne in the meeting, was
much to this purpose: — That none should sit down in
Zion at their ease, but that they should travail for the
prosperity of the Truth in themselves and others ; that none
should love the world or the things of it too much, nor be
covered with any other covering but the Spirit of Truth ;
and that a profession of the Truth would not do, till per
sons came to the life, and possession of it. Next morning,
we had a blessed farewell meeting ; and so parted from
each other in much tenderness of heart. Peter Gardiner,
David Wallace, and their companion went towards Edin
burgh. " After they were gone, Robert and David Barclay, John
Gellie, and Robert Geiard, returned to Ury that night;
and next day, we all had a blessed meeting among the
children. The day following, we had a glorious meeting,
where Patience Barclay, [aged 19 years,] was opened both

1695.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 325
in testimony and in prayer, to the refreshing of all our
hearts. " And so, the Lord God, as he hath begun a good work,
will carry it on, if we be but faithful to him, over all that
the enemy or his instruments can do to hinder it."
Peter Gardiner having proceeded on his journey through
the other meetings of Friends in Scotland, arrived at Car
lisle on his way homeward : whence, as it is supposed, he
wrote an epistle to Friends of Aberdeen, in which he spoke
of the success which had attended his labors also in the
west of Scotland — where the Lord was pouring out of his
Spirit in a glorious manner — and besought them "in the
eternal love of God," not to " despise the day of small
things, in themselves or others."
Having faithfully accomplished his extraordinary mis
sion, it now pleased his Divine Master to take him to his
everlasting reward. In accordance with what he had ex
pressed to John Richardson in the early part of his jour
ney, he here fell sick of the small-pox, and " made a very
sweet and heavenly end." John Bowstead, a Friend of
Carlisle, coming into the room where he lay sick, asked
him how it was with him ; to which he replied, "Ah, John !
I am sick in body, but the Lord reigns gloriously in Zion."
He expressed a sense he had of an awful day to come upon
the nation of Scotland : and after a time of silence, John
Bowstead being moved to prayer, Peter after him prayed
very powerfully, — "That the Lord would preserve his
people together in unity, and would spare and overshadow
them with the wing of His power, until the storm be passed
over." And the power of the Almighty being felt over all,
they that were in the room were melted and broken into
tenderness ; and some who had fallen from the Truth being
present, were also tendered, and made to confess that the
Lord was with him. As he lay quietly for a little time,
there came into the room one that was not a Friend, but
28

326 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1696.
under convictions in his heart. Peter was so full of the
small-pox that he could not see ; but asked who that was,
who came into the room. Being told by some one in mis
take, that it was a Friend; "Ah !" said he, " it is no Friend ;
is it not such a one f " (which it was ;) and called him near.
He then spoke to the young man, saying, " Thou hast no
peace in thy lying down, nor in thy uprising ; therefore, I
charge and warn thee in the name of the Lord my God,
that thou speedily return, and draw near unto the Lord,
whilst thou hast a day afforded thee ; for now is the day of
thy visitation. — I tell thee, thou wouldst be heir of two
kingdoms, but wilt never obtain them both." He uttered
many other weighty expressions to particular individuals ;
and dictating a last message to Friends of his own country
and elsewhere, he declared, " I have sweet peace with Him,
that is the Redeemer of Israel, and am now waiting for my
Pilot to conduct me to my long home."
This Heavenly Pilot at length arrived, and his spirit
was conducted to the haven of eternal rest and peace.

CHAPTER XXXVII.
SAMUEL BOWNAS COMES FORTH IN THE MINISTRY — AC
COUNT OF HIS EARLY LIFE.  FRIENDS' PEACEABLE
TESTIMONY MAINTAINED DURING THE INDIAN WARS
IN NEW ENGLAND.
ABOUT the year 1696, Samuel Bownas came forth as a
minister of the gospel ; who was afterwards an emi
nently serviceable (instrument in confirming the churches,
both in England and America. He was born in West
moreland, about the year 1676, and received a religious

1696.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 327
education, his parents being upright and zealous Friends,
who suffered much for their faithfulness to their Maker.
When a child, his mother often took opportunities of ad
monishing him to a holy life, and to the fear of God, as
the only way of obtaining His favor and blessing : and oc
casionally she would relate to him some circumstances of
his father's sufferings in times of persecution, who had been
removed by death before his son Samuel was a month old.
And when she took him to meetings, where she frequently
had a testimony to bear in public to the Lord's power and
goodness, he would particularly notice, even when very
young, the tenderness and brokenheartedness that pre
vailed over those present, and would inquire of her, why
they wept so much, and why she wept.
But when placed out as an apprentice, though with an
honest sincere-hearted Friend, he grew up with very little
consideration about religion, or any taste for it, addicting
himself to the pleasures of the times. And when at meet
ing, for want of a proper engagement of mind, he often
shamefully spent those precious opportunities of religious
improvement in sleep ; for preaching, of which there was
much, he took slight account of. Thus passed two or
three years of his apprenticeship, with very little inward
sense of God or religion. He was indeed considered a
witty and sensible young man ; (for he took much liberty
in conversation ;) but often on his bed he ruminated on his
way of life with sorrowful reflection, and yet he fell into
the same course again and again. No one could charge
him with any gross vice ; but what he gave way to most,
was jesting and foolish talking, and turns of wit to pro
mote mirth, which the apostle tells us are not convenient ;
(Ephes. v. 4 ;) and Samuel often found it so after it was
over, and that the end of that mirth was heaviness of heart.
However, the Lord, who is plenteous in mercy, even to the
rebellious, gave him a remarkable visitation, which doubt-

328 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1696.
less he remembered with gratitude through life, as it ap
pears to have been the means of awakening him to a sense
of his condition, and impressing him with a deep convic
tion of the necessity of a change of heart and life. Being
one First-day at meeting, Anne Wilson, a young woman,
was present and preached. She was very zealous, and Sam
uel looking upon her, she with great energy pointed her
finger at him, uttering these words with much power: "A
traditional Quaker, thou comest to meeting as thou went-
est from it, and thou goest from it as thou earnest to it, but
art no better for thy coming; — what wilt thou do in the
end ? " This language came so home to his state at that
time, that like Saul it might be said he was smitten as it
were to the ground, being pricked to the very heart ; and
turning his mind inward, he cried in secret, " Lord, what
shall I do to help it ? " A voice spoke within him, " Look
unto me, and I will help thee." Then he found such com
fort to flow through him as made him shed tears abundantly.
From that day he experienced the Scriptural assertion to
be true, that what is to be known of God and true religion,
is manifested within : for upon this eventful circumstance
his conduct and even his countenance became much al
tered, his soul being bowed down under heavy exercise ; so
that he could for a time neither eat nor sleep as he used to
do. Yet his work never succeeded better in his hands than
it did at that time, nor was his mind ever less in it. He
longed for the next meeting-day; and when the hour of
meeting came, his mind was soon fixed and stayed upon
the One great object of worship and dependence, and he
felt therein an uncommon enjoyment and satisfaction.
Relying on the Lord for strength and salvation', who had
begun thus wonderfully to reveal His power in him, his
understanding became opened, and all his faculties so sen
sible, that he appeared to himself another man ; a divine and
spiritual sweetness abiding with him night and day for some

1696.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 329
time. The Scriptures also became wonderfully clear and
plain to his view, and the truths ofthe Gospel, there spoken
of, he readily understood and embraced. He came clearly
to see wherein he had before failed of the grace of God, in
relying on a mere education in the way of truth, and out
ward conformity therewith, being thus a mere " traditional
Quaker," instead of coming, as he now did, into an earnest
travail of soul that he might be made acquainted for him
self with the way to true peace, through Christ revealed in
his heart, and operating there as the sanctifier and enlight-
ener, and the only way to the Father. And as he gave up
his heart to the cleansing and purifying baptisms of the
Holy Ghost, and abode in deep humility and watchfulness
unto prayer, he became gradually prepared for service in
the Lord's church, and in a short time received a gift in
the ministry of the Gospel. Going one day to meeting as
usual, he had not sat long therein before his spirit was im
pressed with a very solemn weight, and a few words were
presented to his mind, accompanied with a sense of duty to
give them utterance. But giving way to his own reasoning
powers, which suggested to him that it was too early for him
to undertake so awful a service, being but an infant in re
ligion, he was not faithful to the divine call, and the bur
den of the word was taken from him. Now came a feeling
of condemnation. He was made deeply sensible of his un
faithfulness, and of the loss he had sustained, and was
much cast down in fear of being entirely given up of his
Lord and Master. But mercy and forgiveness were still
with Him, that He might be feared and obeyed. When
the next meeting-day came, Samuel went in great weakness
and fear, and sitting therein with his mind deeply exercised
towards the Lord, after a time he felt the same concern as
before. He sat under this feeling until the meeting was
almost over, and then giving up to the renewed call, he
rose upon his feet, and delivered the message wherewith he
28*

330 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1696.
felt himself intrusted. The joy and sweetness with which
he was now rewarded were inexpressible; and the next
time that he was in like manner required to stand as a
spectacle to the world, it was not quite so difficult for
him to give up to the heavenly vision. For about three
years however he did not speak frequently, nor much at a
time ; but after that his gift was enlarged ; and through
obedience he became an able minister of Christ, to the edi
fication and comfort of the church and the convincement
of many seeking minds.
The motives inducing him to undertake the office of a
preacher of the Gospel, it will be well to remember, as they
appear to have been perfectly consonant with the precepts
and practice of Christ and his apostles: viz., 1st a clear,
cogent, and convincing evidence of a Divine call, and
heavenly impulse thereto — 2d an indispensable sense of
his duty necessarily obliging him to yield obedience to that
call — and 3d the sweet returns of inward peace and divine
consolation accompanying his obedience therein ; which
greatly conduced to his confirmation and perseverance in
the way cast up for him.
To the performance of this he found himself measurably
prepared and qualified ; for his own experience of the love
of God, and of the operations of His Holy Spirit, in grad
ually purging out the corruptions of his own heart, had
excited in him a Christian love to his fellow-creatures, at
tended with an ardent zeal and desire for their conversion.
His preaching was attended with divine authority and inno
cence, which commanded the attention of the hearers ; and
his voice being clear, strong, and distinct, was capable of
conveying his exhortations, replete as they were with sound
judgment and doctrine, to the ears and understandings of
a very numerous auditory. He stood much upon his
guard, as his gift enlarged, lest through self-love and con
ceit, he should depart from that humility, which is the or
nament of every gospel minister.

1704.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 331
The importance of a faithful adherence to the peaceable
principles of true Christianity even in times of great ap
parent danger, was well exemplified by some circumstances
which occurred about the year 1704 to Friends in New
England. The Indian natives of the country, exasperated
by repeated wrongs inflicted on them by the white settlers,
had become very barbarous in the destruction of the Eng
lish inhabitants, scalping many, and knocking out the
brains of some ; by which the country was kept in con
tinual alarm. But, as Thomas Chalkley says, the great
Lord of all was pleased wonderfully to preserve our Friends,
especially those who kept faithful to their peaceable prin
ciples. But because Friends could not join with their
neighbors in fighting, some of them were subjected to im
prisonment; many people railing and speaking very bit
terly against them, and wishing the Quakers might be
cut off. Among, however, the many hundreds that were
slain, the same Friend, who was then travelling in New
England in the service of the gospel, remarks that he heard
but of three Friends being killed, and that their destruction
was very remarkable. One of these was a woman, and the
other two were men. The men had been accustomed to go
to their labor without any weapons, trusting to the protec
tion of the Most High in a faithful maintenance of their
testimony. But a spirit of distrust taking place in their
minds, they took weapons of war to defend themselves ;
and the Indians who had often seen them without any, and
had let them alone, saying that they were peaceable men,
and would hurt nobody, and therefore they would not hurt
them, now on the contrary seeing them have guns, and
supposing their design was to kill the Indians, shot the men
dead. The woman had remained in her habitation when many
were fleeing to fortified places. Neither could she, her son,
nor her daughter, be easy to seek their preservation and

332 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1704.
that of their little ones by such means. But after some
time, the poor woman in a time of unwatchfulness lost her
trust in the Lord's all-powerful arm, and letting in a slavish
fear, advised her children to go with her to a fort not far
from their dwelling. Her daughter Mary Doe, was one
who had confidence in that "Strong* Tower to which the
righteous flee and find safety," even the name of the Lord
Jehovah ; and her account of this sorrowful circumstance
is very instructive.
"When," she says, "the cruel Indians were suffered to
kill and destroy, it was showed me that I must stand in a
testimony for Truth, and trust in the name of the Lord. I
often desired my mother and husband to sit down, and wait
upon the Lord, and He would show us what to do. But I
could not prevail with him : he would say, it was too late
now, and was in great haste to be gone. But I could not
go with him, because I was afraid of offending the Lord.
He would say, I was deluded by the devil ; so that my
mother would often say, 'A house divided could not stand;'
and she could not tell what to do ; for although she had
most peace in staying, yet she had thoughts of moving, and
said to me, ' Child, canst thou certainly say it is revealed to
thee we should stay ? If it be, I would willingly stay, if I
was sure it was the mind of God.' But I being young, and
afraid to speak of it so high, said, ' Mother, I can say, that
when I think of staying, and trusting in the name of the
Lord, I find great peace and comfort — more than I can
utter — with a belief we shall be preserved; but when I
think of going, oh, the trouble and heaviness I feel, with a
fear some of us should fall by them ! ' My dear mother
sighed, and said she could not tell what to do. But I said
to them, ' if they would go, I should be willing to stay alone :
if they found freedom, I was very willing ; for I was afraid
of offending the Lord.'
" But still my poor husband would say, ' I took a wrong

1704.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 333
spirit for the right. — How should I know ? — if I was right,
I should be willing to condescend to him ? ' Then I said, ' in
condescension to him I would move ; but I hoped the Lord
would not lay it to my charge ; for, was it not to condescend
to him, I would not move for the world.' After I had given
away my strength, in a little time there came men from the
garrison with their guns, saying, they came for us, and
thought the Indians might be near. And then away we
went ; and my mother went in with my brother-in-law,
although I persuaded her not to do it. But oh, the fear
and trouble that I felt ! and I told my husband, it seemed
as if we were going into the mouth of the Indians.
" The next day was the First-day of the week : and our
friend Lydia Norton, coming with my dear mother, in her
testimony said, there was there that was very near to her
life, that was very near death. Oh, then I was ready to
think it would be I, because I believed we had done amiss
in moving ; and great trouble was I in, and told Lydia
thereof. But she comforted me as much as she could, say
ing, she did not think it would be myself. My mother
went again to the garrison; where she found herself not
easy ; but, as she often said, she felt herself in a beclouded
condition, and more shut from divine counsel than she had
ever been since she knew the Truth. And being uneasy,
she went to move to a Friend's house in the neighborhood :
and as she was moving, the bloody cruel Indians lay by the
way, and killed her. Oh then, how did I lament moving !
and promised, if the Lord would be pleased to spare my life,
and husband and children, and carry us home again, I
would never do so more. But oh, the fear, trouble, and
darkness that fell upon me and many more at that time !
Three or four of us kept our meeting, yet we sat under a
poor beclouded condition till we returned home again ; then
did the Lord please to lift up the light of His love upon our
poor souk Then I told my husband, although he had built

334 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1704.
a little house by the garrison, I could not move again. So he
was willing to stay the winter ; but told me he could not stay
when summer came, for then the Indians would be about ;
and that if I could not go to the garrison, I might go to
a Friend's house near it. I was willing to please him, if the
Lord was willing ; and then applied my heart to know the
mind of Truth ; but it was showed me, that if I moved again,
I should lose the sense of Truth, and should never hold up
my head again. Still he would say, it was a notion ; till
our dear friend Thomas Story came, and told him he did not
see that I could have a greater revelation than I had ; and
satisfied my husband so well, that he never more asked me
to go, but was well contented to stay all the wars. Then
things were made more easy ; and we saw abundance of the
wonderful works and mighty power of the Lord, in preserv
ing us, when the Indians were at our doors and windows,
and at other times — and how my dear children stayed at
home alone, when we went to meetings, the Lord putting
courage into them, and preserving them, so that no hurt
came upon them. If I had not feared the Lord, and felt the
comforts of His Holy Spirit, I never could have stood so
great a trial, when so many judged I was deluded ; but the
Lord was near, and gave me strength, courage, and faith to
trust in Him ; for I knew his name to be a strong tower, yea
stronger than any in the world ; for I have often fled there
for safety. Oh blessing, and honor, and everlasting high
praise be given to the Lord and to His dear Son, our Saviour
and Mediator Christ Jesus ; Amen ! "
Though the Indians were at this time frequently shooting
people as they rode along the highways, knocking them on
the head in their beds, and barbarously murdering many ;
yet Friends travelled in the country in safety, and had large
meetings, and the good presence of God was abundantly with
them. The people generally rode armed to their places of
worship ; but Friends went to their meetings without either
sword or gun, having their trust and confidence in God.

1731.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 335

CHAPTER XXXVIII.
SHIPWRECK AND REMARKABLE PRESERVATION OF SUSANNA
MORRIS. — EXAMPLES OF ZEAL AND SIMPLICITY IN
IRELAND.
SUSANNA MORRIS, a minister of North America,
about the year 1731, felt constrained in gospel love to
pay a religious visit to Friends of Great Britain and Ire
land. Having the unity of her friends, she embarked in a
vessel in which Joseph Taylor, from Raby, in England, was
returning home from a similar engagement in America.
The occurrences which befell them on this voyage were
memorable, tending to strengthen her faith in the superin
tending care of Him who had sent her forth in His name,
and are thus mentioned by herself.
" Soon after I got out to sea, I dreamed that our ship
would be lost, and there remained on my mind a solid
weight, for fear it should be so. But at times, I thought it
had been as some other dreams ; and yet I thought it safe
to dwell humble and low before the Lord. I again dreamed
the same ; and was weak as to being fixed in a belief of the
truth of it, until the Lord was pleased to favor me with
his goodness, and in one of our meetings to make it known
to me, that we should surely suffer shipwreck. And then,
for a season, I was in trouble ; but oh ! blessed forever be
the name of our God ; for I had soon a good answer returned
into my bosom, of our preservation, and that if we would be
faithful, we should have our lives for a prey. I hinted
something of my mind to the captain, who seemed somewhat
startled ; and lest he should be too much discouraged, I had
it given me to tell him, that I should see him safe on shore.

336 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1731.
It was some time before it came to pass ; and when I hinted
a little of what was made known to me, to Joseph Taylor, I
found that it seemed like idle tales to him. So I forbore to
go further in the relation of it to him ; yet I was preserved
so as not to stagger in my mind, or disregard the manifesta
tions made known to me, from Him that is true. And as I
endeavored to dwell near Him who is faithful and true, my
habitation was pleasant, until the sudden outcry was pro
claimed, and nothing appeared but the destruction of our
lives." The ship had struck upon a rock off the coast of
Ireland, near Dungannon. " Then, for a time, my outward
tabernacle greatly shook and trembled. But, blessed be the
great Lord of all our mercies, the time of trembling was
soon over, and what had been made known to me was re
newed, that the all-wise God would command the proud
waves, that they should not come at his servants to hurt
them ; as it was said, ' Touch not mine anointed, and do
my prophets no harm.' And so it was, the Great God did
preserve us, I believe, for his own name's sake. It was the
time called Christmas-eve, and very cold ; and we had for
two days, little sustenance for our bodies; and many times
our heads were under the great waves, which rolled over us
after she sunk, by reason of the strokes she got on the dread
ful rocks. Afterwards she drove, until she settled on a sand
bank. In that distress I had no help of man, or counsellor
but the Lord alone ; and thought it best for me to get to the
upper side of the vessel, and fix my seat by the shrouds,
where I was favored so that I kept my hold, when the waves
rolled over us : and we remained in that wet condition about
nine hours, in a cold time of frost and snow, before any of
us got relief. And yet I was not hurt — the Lord is pleased
to favor his heritage — though many of the ship's company
lost their lives, some perishing with the cold, and others
being drowned."
John Griffith, who speaks of Susanna Morris as "a truly

1731.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 337
evangelical minister of Jesus Christ," mentions the follow
ing additional particulars of this event, narrated to him by
Joseph Taylor. " The ship was driven on her broadside,
yet did not soon break ; but the sea, running high, broke
over her, and several of the crew were washed overboard,
and drowned. The captain, Susanna Morris, Joseph Tay
lor, and perhaps one more, scrambled up to the upper side
of the ship, and held fast to the shrouds, the sea frequently
breaking over them. Susanna never discovered the least
impatience, in word or countenance, all the time ; but Jo
seph Taylor confessed that he once, in a flutter or impa
tience, did say to this effect, 'We might as well have gone
at first, for we shall be drowned.' She looked upon
him and said nothing; but her looks were a sufficient re
buke for his impatience and distrust. After they had held
a considerable time by the shrouds, this extraordinary
woman had a sense given her, that they would not be safe
on that side of the vessel much longer ; and although it
seemed very hazardous to move and fasten to the lower
side of the ship, she urged them all to attempt it, believing
it would be the means of their preservation. She at length
prevailed, and they moved, in the best manner they could,
to the lower side of the ship ; and soon after they had fixed
themselves, there came a great swell of the sea, and threw
the vessel flat on the other side ; so that if they had not
moved, they would all have been drowned. A priest on
shore being informed there were some alive on board in
great distress, came down to the beach and charged his
people not to hurt them, but use all means to save their
lives ; which if they refused to comply with, they should
never have their sins forgiven. And through the assist
ance of a merciful Providence,' they brought them safe to
land, and treated them with great hospitality." "And
now," says S. Morris, in concluding her account of this
wonderful preservation, " I write not this relation because
29

338 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1737.
I would have any one think the better of me ; no, that is
not what I aim at ; but that the poor in spirit, or weak in
their own eyes, (if willing to serve the Lord,) may take
a little courage, to trust in the Lord, and be truly willing
to serve him in all that He may require of them."
Great was the zeal and exemplary the simplicity of many
members of the Society of Friends in Ireland in the early
part of the eighteenth century. James Gough, a minister
who went thither about the year 1737, has testified to their
holy and circumspect walking, in terms so animating that
we shall do well to ponder the example thus beautifully set
before us.
" 'God hath said, I will dwell in them, and walk in
them ; and I will be their God, and they shall be my peo
ple. Wherefore come out from among them, and be ye sepa
rate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing ; and
I will receive you, and will be a father unto you, and ye
shall be my sons and daughters, saith the Lord Almighty.'
2 Cor. vi. 16, &c. By this call were our honorable prede
cessors in the beginning separated from the spirit and ways
of the world, and incited to refuse touching the unclean
thing, or whatever sprang from an unclean source, what
persecution soever that refusal might cost them ; knowing
that He whom they obeyed and in whom they trusted,
would carry them through all opposition. This they expe
rienced, to their unspeakable joy, to be fulfilled, and testi
fied to the world, many of them, both living and dying.
In those days the meetings of Friends were more eminently
favored with divine power, as they lived more devoted to
Christ, and consequently more abounding with His love
flowing in their hearts.
"I remember when a child,* some whose very counte
nances seemed to command awe, and impress observers with
* James Gough was born in the year 1712.

1737.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 339
serious consideration; as the salt of the earth, seasoning
those amongst whom they walked, with a sense of the
Truth which lived and predominated in them. Those
happy men and women left the Lord's vineyard (through
their faithful labors with the Divine blessing upon them)
well fenced and clean, (having gathered out the stones
thereof,) and abounding with the excellent fruits of the
Holy Spirit of Christ.
"At my first going [to Ireland] there were yet living in
most parts of the nation, where meetings were settled, some
of the good old stock, both ministers and elders, who loved
God and mankind, and were esteemed and beloved, being
kind and open-hearted, as well as faithful and circumspect
in all branches of our Christian testimony, closely united
in tender love one with another in supporting and keeping
things in good order in the church. Their pious care here
in was like a fence about the flock, which kept them to
gether in nearer unity and greater safety, so that the young
people in most parts were generally trained up in innocence
of manners, and in plainness of habit and speech."
In another place, he relates of a friend of Kilconimore,
named John Ashton, that "he with his wife, when at liberty
[from imprisonment for conscience' sake] constantly at
tended the meeting at Birr twice a week, generally walk
ing on foot thither, being about seven English miles and a
very bad road, wading through a river both going and re
turning. In winter they sometimes had the ice to break in
crossing this river ; and John had wept to see the blood on
his wife's legs in coming through it. In those days truth
was precious to its professors, who also possessed it ; and no
difficulties or dangers could prevent them from getting to
their religious meetings, to enjoy the renewings of divine
love and life with their brethren."
The same writer, as a lively illustration of that great
truth, that "a man's life consisteth not in the abundance

340 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1776.
of the things which he possesseth," records the following
simple but instructive instance of the mode of living, de-
votedness, and hospitality of some of the early Friends ;
showing that a man may live on little of this world's goods,
if his mind be kept in humility, and his appetites subjected
to the cross of Christ. "John Goodwin, of Escargogh in
Monmouthshire, lived and maintained his family on a farm
of four pounds a year ; but at length had purchased and
improved it, so that he reckoned it worth six pounds a
year. The first journey he travelled in the ministry,
which was to visit Friends through Wales, he had then got
of clear money about forty shillings in all ; and he was
free to spend it, if there were occasion, in the Lord's ser
vice, knowing that He could give him, or enable him to
get more. The first time he began to entertain travelling
Friends, (most of that meeting being gone to Pennsylvania,)
he had but one bed, which he left to them, he and his wife
taking up their lodging in the stable."

CHAPTER XXXIX.
THE TRIALS TO WHICH FRIENDS WERE SUBJECTED DURING
THE AMERICAN REVOLUTIONARY WAR.
fpHE breaking out of hostilities between the British
J. American colonies and the mother country, about the
year 1775, which resulted in the acknowledged indepen
dence of the United States of America, was a signal to the
Society of Friends, to flee to the strong-hold of faith for
safety during the storm. Many experienced brethren fore
saw that in this time of contention, those who stood firm to

1776.] THE SOCIETY OF FEIENDS. 341
their peaceable principles, and imitated the example of the
ancient Christians in resolutely refusing to unite in war,
would be subjected to great trials : and they earnestly en
deavored to strengthen and confirm their fellow-members
in bearing a noble and unflinching testimony to the peace
ful nature of Christianity, even when property, liberty, and
life itself were at stake. Some superficial individuals, nev
ertheless, in various places, were caught by the prevailing
martial spirit, or induced by fear to relinquish their faith,
and to trust in the arm of flesh ; but generally the Society
stood firm through all that was permitted to assail it.
Many of its members were exceedingly persecuted by one
party or the other ; but it may be truly said that the Lord
of hosts encamped round about his poor afflicted people in
their time of deep distress ; and even during the greatest
commotion, a remnant felt the sweetness of His love, and
the calming influence of that voice which said to the waves
formerly, " Peace ! be still ! "
Even the outward circumstances of many who stood
faithful appeared to be eminently preserved from serious
harm; whilst a different result attended some who lost
their confidence in the God of Truth. One instance in
New York was remarkable. A family descended from the
worthy Isaac Penington resided in the city of New York ;
and while many of their fellow-members and neighbors
were thinking of removing to Long Island and other places
around, the female head of this family could feel no peace
in contemplating such a step. Accordingly they with some
others remained in the city when the British troops took
possession of it ; and while those who had retired found
themselves more perplexed than before by the scouting
parties of the troops, which lay all around the neighbor
hoods to which they had retreated, these families who re
mained, were preserved from injury. A great part of the
city was on one occasion consumed by fire, which sur-
29*

342 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1777.
rounded the dwelling of the family above mentioned ; yet
their house was preserved unhurt by the flames.
The next year, as the conflict became more close and
doubtful, the enmity increased against Friends, who could
not conscientiously take up arms in any cause ; and many
of whom felt restrained from using the paper money put in
circulation in order to carry on the war. Heavy penalties
were ordered for refusing this money. On the first night
of the year 1777, Thomas Watson, of Buckingham, Pennsyl
vania, was taken from his home and family by a number of
armed men, who conveyed him to Newtown, and detained
him forty-eight hours in heavy irons, and three nights with
out a bed to rest upon. Mark Miller and Thomas Redman,
of New Jersey, were imprisoned soon afterwards for reading
in their respective meetings an epistle issued by the Meet
ing for Sufferings of Philadelphia, in which the members
of the Society were exhorted to stand fast to their ancient
faith, and not to let the fear of suffering prevail with them
to unite in any warlike operations. These Friends were
confined eight weeks in Gloucester jail ; and several others
were imprisoned the same year on a similar account.
On the second day of the Ninth month, John Pemberton,
a minister among Friends, and clerk of the Meeting for
Sufferings, which had, as above mentioned, thought it their
duty to exhort their fellow-members to faithfulness to their
principles, was arrested in his house by three officers with
a guard of ten men, his desk broken open and rifled of the
papers of the Meeting for Sufferings, and other documents,
and himself dragged through the streets to the Masons'
Lodge. His brothers, Israel and James Pemberton, John
Hunt, also a minister, Henry Drinker, Samuel Pleasants,
Edward Penington, and sixteen other Friends, were also
arrested, and confined without any examination, notwith
standing their demand of a hearing from the Council and
Congress, under whose authority their liberty was taken

1777.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 343
from them. A few days after their arrest, an order of
Council appeared, for the banishment of these Friends into
Virginia, and they were desired to prepare for their re
moval. On the ninth of the month they were conveyed
from the city in wagons towards Reading; and although
they had obtained writs of habeas corpus from the chief jus
tice, the assembly overruled them, and these innocent men
were conveyed over the Susquehanna, and through Mary
land to Winchester in Virginia, where they arrived in
about three weeks. Here they were often treated with
great harshness, and at times were much cast down ; but
possessing their souls in patience, and relying on the help
and preservation of their Divine Master, they frequently
had to acknowledge the comforting virtue of His presence
whose favor is better than life, were made sensible that
" the power of the Highest is able to stay the wrath of man,
and preserve his dependent people," and were at times en
abled to bless and praise his holy name. They held their
meetings for divine worship regularly in their prison, which
was a private house, guarded by soldiery ; and were often
refreshed in sympathy with each other. For a time they
were allowed to ride or walk to a short distance from their
place of confinement ; though afterwards this was rescinded,
and they were kept closely confined, sometimes with guards
stationed at the front and back doors of their quarters.
During the time of comparative liberty, John Pemberton
attended the neighboring Monthly Meeting of Hopewell,
where a deep concern had been felt on account of the man
ner in which the lands in that part had come into posses
sion of the white inhabitants, and a fear that the Indian
natives who formerly owned them had not been fully remu
nerated for giving them up. A committee had been ap
pointed on this important subject, which now proposed the
raising of a fund to be applied for the benefit of the de
scendants of the natives formerly resident there, or any

S44 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1777.
others where it might be truly useful. The meeting ap
proved of the measure, thus affording a striking contrast
with the unprincipled conduct which was prevalent in the
community at large. Two months after this, he again
attended Hopewell Monthly Meeting, in company with
his fellow-sufferer, John Hunt, who had to speak of the
judgments of the Lord upon the country, mentioning that
he had heard, with his inward ear, a voice proclaiming
mourning, lamentation, and woe, unless the people repented
and sought the Lord ; and contrasting the balls, revelling,
and dancing, now prevalent among the people, with that
humiliation of heart which ought to be experienced. He
mentioned also an apprehension that he should not have
the like opportunity again among Friends there, though he
wished to leave the event to Divine Providence. A short
time after this, John Hunt was taken very ill. In one of
the solemn interviews which John Pemberton had with
him during his sickness, his spirit was much contrited and
broken into tenderness, and he expressed a thankful sense
of the continued regard of the Most High : but added that
he " had a prospect that an exceedingly trying time would
attend Friends as a people, more deeply exercising than
they had ever experienced ; and that our deepest sufferings
would be from some of the same family ; that many would
make submission to this and the other : but that the poor
and some weak ones would be established ; " and he desired
it might be noticed. He intimated that having in this
time of great exercise made a narrow search, and desired
the Lord to manifest if in any particular, he had done
wrong, he could not find anything laid to his charge ; but
felt sensible " there was need of becoming still more pure
and holy, and inwardly refined throughout." Some days
after this he seemed better ; and expressed to Israel and
John Pemberton, that he had thought much of some ex
pressions of John Woolman's, in a time of great affliction,

1778.] * THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 345
respecting true prayer: that it was deep, and the place
thereof was a precious habitation ; that it was not to be
truly come at in the commotions of the mind, but in pure
stillness; adding that he thought he could at times say,
"Not my will, O Lord, but thine be done." About a
month subsequently, after passing through much bodily
suffering, and submitting to the amputation of his leg, he
quietly departed this life, after a banishment of about six
months from his house and near friends, being the second
of the prisoners who had died during their captivity.
At length, on the 18th of Fourth month, 1778, an order
came from Congress for their restoration to the Pennsyl
vania authorities ; and returning from Virginia, they were
at Pottsgrove discharged from custody, and reached their
homes in safety. The arbitrary nature of this transaction
will be at once perceived from the fact that these innocent
men were subjected to a banishment and imprisonment of
nearly eight months, without ever being permitted even
the form of a trial, or being able to discover who were
their accusers, or of what crime they were supposed to be
guilty. Many were the instances of hardship and oppression ex
ercised against Friends during the whole time of the war.
A Friend in Virginia suffered greatly for his testimony.
Being drafted to stand guard over part of the army of
General Burgoyne, prisoners in Virginia, he declined hav
ing anything to do with military, proceedings. He was
accordingly tried by a court-martial, and sentenced to be
flogged with thirty-nine lashes. Forty stripes, however,
were heavily laid on him in the presence of several hun
dred spectators, with a nine-corded whip ; but the Friend,
though much lacerated, was supported in faithfulness ; and
both threats and persuasions were afterwards tried in vain,
to move him from his constancy. His faithfulness, under
this severe suffering, was thought to have been instrumental

346 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF " [1778.
in spreading the testimony of truth ; the procedure gave
great disgust ; and one officer laid down his commission,
declaring that if innocent, conscientious men were thus
treated, he would serve in the army no longer.
In Carolina, about ten Friends were dragged along by
soldiers when about to engage in battle, in order to force
them to fight ; and when the two hostile armies approached
near each other, with their guns presented, ready for firing,
these Friends still refusing to bear arms, were placed in
front in order to receive the discharge. But Divine Provi
dence preserved them in this extreme peril ; for falling
down flat upon their faces at the moment the firing com
menced, the discharge passed over them ; and though many
were slain close by them, and the party who had brought
them thither were entirely routed, yet they escaped unhurt.
About this time Moses Roberts and John Hughes were
on the same account cruelly detained in confinement at
Lancaster, Pennsylvania, more than eleven months, without
form of trial.
The case of an officer of the American army is worthy
of commemoration. A part of the forces lay near the
Gunpowder Falls meeting-house; but Friends were not
thereby deterred from holding their usual meetings for
worship. Among these troops was a colonel of dragoons,
whose resentment against Friends was raised to such a
pitch of malice, that one day, when traversing the country,
he came to the most extraordinary and cruel resolution, of
putting to the sword the Friends who were then collected at
their place of worship ; considering them as no better than
a company of traitors, merely because they steadfastly
refused to take any part in war. Drawing up his mei.
accordingly, near to the spot, he ordered them to halt, in
order to make arrangements for the execution of his dread
ful purpose. But at this moment, an awful silent pause
took place, in which he felt his mind so. powerfully smitten

1781.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 347
with conviction, that he not only drew off his men, but
conceived very favorable sentiments of the Society ; and
continuing to yield to the convictions which were from
time to time impressed on his mind, he after a while actu
ally joined in communion with Friends, and continued
faithful to the principles of Truth professed by them.
A remarkable incident occurred to David Sands, an es
teemed minister among Friends, furnishing incontestable
evidence of divine communication to the mind of this ser
vant of Christ. A detachment of the American army,
comprising about five hundred men, was stationed near
his dwelling a few miles above the city of New York. A
secret uneasiness pressed upon David's mind, and his wife
felt a presentiment that some trial was approaching them.
One night, after they had retired to bed, she was alarmed
by a noise about the house, which her husband thought
might be the rustling of the wind among the neighboring
trees. In a few minutes, however, they heard some one near
their room say, " Some of the family are awake — we will
shoot them ! " Their sleeping-room being on the first floor,
David and his wife easily escaped by the window ; but in
passing through it they were discovered, and a pistol was
discharged at them, the ball of which grazed David's fore
head. Having on but a scanty supply of clothing, and
the night being cold, they suffered severely before morn
ing. After the day dawned, they returned to their dwell
ing, which they found plundered of all the cash, about
fifty pounds, most of their bedding, and even some of the
furniture. A domestic and two children, who were sleep
ing in a different part of the house, were not disturbed.
David soon felt that it would be right for him to go to
the encampment. On his arrival, he found several officers
conversing together, who thus accosted him : " Mr. Sands,
we have heard of the depredation committed at your house,
and desire to know what you think can be done, to discover

348 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1781.
the offenders." David, after a time of solid consideration,
informed them that he believed, if the men were drawn up
in rank and file of fifty in a company, he should be able,
by following divine direction, to detect those concerned in
the robbery. The officers wondered at this, thinking it
impossible that with no outward knowledge of their per
sons, he should be able to point them out. Nevertheless,
they ordered out the troops, and David commenced his re
view. As he passed down the first rank, he made a short
pause near the bottom, and then went on to the next
company. Here he soon paused before one of the men,
and looking him in the face, said, " Where wast thou last
night ? " He replied, " Keeping guard, sir ; and a very
cold night it was." " Didst thou find it so when at my
house ? " asked David. At this, the man trembled so
much, and discovered such evident marks of guilt, that
he was immediately ordered out of the ranks, and placed
under arrest. In like manner four others of the men
were discovered. David then went to a young officer, and
asked him how he came to aid and accompany his men to
pillage his house ? He denied the charge. David placed
his hand on the officer's breast, saying, " Let me feel thy
heart, and see if that do not accuse thee ; " and finding
the heart throbbing so that it could be felt even up to the
neck, he called the other officers to draw near, and see for
themselves how his own heart had become his accuser.
There had been eight concerned in the robbery, two of
whom belonged to the company near the foot of which
David first stopped, and should have been at that very
spot ; but they had deserted before the search commenced.
The greater part of his furniture, and about one-half of the
money, was returned ; the rest was reported as lost. The
offenders were brought to trial before a civil tribunal,
where David not appearing against them, they were dis
charged ; but the officers informed him that by martial law

1781.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 349
they had forfeited their lives. They were brought bound
to his house, and he was told that he should determine
their sentence. Upon this he administered suitable advice
to them, forgave them the injury they had done to him,
and perceiving them to be weary, ordered suitable refresh
ment. Whilst thus returning good for evil, David's wife
said to one of the men, "Thou art he that shot at us."
Her husband added, "he has been told of that before."
The staff officers seemed to think that the young officer at
least must suffer death, because he should have been an ex
ample to the men ; but on David's earnest entreaty, they
suffered him to desert. The men received some corporal
punishment, to deter others from similar practices, and
were then restored to the ranks.
Several years after this occurrence, David Sands being
from home on a religious visit, a man came up to him, beg
ging his pardon, and would have gone down on his knees
if he had not been prevented. He confessed himself to
have been one of the two above alluded to, who had de
serted, to avoid detection. He declared he had never been
easy in his mind since, and expressed a hope that David
would forgive him. David Sands replied, that it was out
of his power to forgive sins, but he hoped the Almighty
would forgive him, as he himself had long since forgiven
all those concerned in the robbery. The other individual
of the two then came up. He also acknowledged that he
had not had true peace since he committed the crime. He
appeared to be a reformed character, had comfortably mar
ried, and had applied to be received as a member of the
Society of Friends. He desired that David, in token of
forgiveness, would go with him, and partake of the hos
pitalities of his house ; which he did, and doubtless had
much more satisfaction than if, pursuing him at law, he
had avenged the injury received by prosecuting the offender.
30

350 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1671.

CHAPTER XL.
RISE AND PROGRESS OF THE SOCIETY'S TESTIMONY AGAINST
SLAVERY.
AT the time when the Society of Friends arose, great
numbers of slaves were held in bondage in various
parts of the world, particularly in the West Indies, Vir
ginia, and the Carolinas. Some of their owners were
among the early converts to our Society in those lands, and
Friends who emigrated thither from England, inadvertently
fell also into the custom, and purchased slaves.
But there were not wanting, even at that time, faithful
men among them, whose souls yearned for the greater
prevalence of the spirit of the gospel, in the intercourse
between man and his fellow-man, and who, though their
attention had not been drawn to this subject so closely as it
has been in the present age, yet felt that the immutable
principles of justice and equity were for the whole race of
mankind, and that the divine injunction of the Saviour of
men, " whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do
ye even so to them," was not limited by any varieties in
the form of features or the color of the skin.
George Fox earnestly exhorted Friends that had slaves,
to treat them with Christian care and humanity, and to
prepare them for freedom. In addressing Friends in Bar
badoes in 1671, he desired them "to endeavor to train them
up in the fear of God, that all might come to the knowledge
of the Lord ; that so with Joshua, every master of a family
might say, 'as for me and my house, we will serve the
Lord.' " He desired also, "that they would cause their
overseers to deal mildly and gently with their negroes, and

1688.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 351
not use cruelty towards them, as the manner of some hath
been and is ; and that after certain years of servitude they
should make them free." And in a public discourse spoken
to the people of that island, he used this remarkable lan
guage: "Let me tell you, it will doubtless be very accept
able to the Lord, if masters of families here would deal
so with their servants, the negroes and blacks, as to let
them go free after they have served faithfully a consider
able term of years, be it thirty years, more or less ; and
when they go and are made free, let them not go away
empty-handed." William Edmundson, who visited Barbadoes in company
with George Fox, united with him in his labors on behalf
of the slaves. He also addressed an Epistle to Friends of
Maryland, Virginia, and other parts of America, in which
he reminded them that God made all men of one mould,
and that our blessed Saviour shed his blood for all without
distinction — that God is no respecter of persons, and Christ
hath taken away the partition-wall of enmity between one
people and another ; and reviving the command of Christ,
to do unto others as we would have them do unto us, he
asks, "which of you all would have the blacks or others to
make you their slaves, without hope of liberty? Would
not this be an aggravation upon your minds, that would
out-balance all other comforts ? So make their conditions
your own ; for a good conscience void of offence, is of more
worth than all the world, and Truth must regulate all
wrongs." From this time forward, many bore a faithful testimony
against the sin of slaveholding. The attention of the
Yearly Meeting of Pennsylvania and New Jersey, was,
by a cogent appeal from Friends of Germantown, near
Philadelphia, drawn to the subject in 1688; but this
assembly at that time felt diffident of coming to a positive
judgment in a matter which concerned the whole body of

352 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1717.
Friends. The first official step of the Society on the sub
ject appears to have been taken by that Yearly Meeting
in 1696, when in its collective capacity it sent down advice
to its members, "that Friends be careful not to encourage
the bringing in of any more negroes ; and that such as
have negroes, be careful of them, bring them to meetings,
and restrain them from loose and lewd living, as much as
in them lies, and from rambling abroad on First-days or
other times."
William Penn felt and mourned over the state of the
slaves ; but his attempts to improve their condition by legal
enactments were defeated in the House of Assembly of
Pennsylvania. In the year 1700, he laid before the
Monthly Meeting of Philadelphia the deep concern of his
mind, respecting these poor people and the Indian natives,
desiring that Friends should carefully discharge a good
conscience towards them in all things for their good ;
whereupon that meeting concluded to appoint a meeting
for worship to be held, monthly for the negroes, and advised
their masters to endeavor to be present with them.
The advice of the Yearly Meeting of 1 696 was repeated
in 1711, at the instigation of Chester Quarterly Meeting,
which then comprised the whole southern branch of the
Yearly Meeting, as far as Hopewell, in Virginia ; and the
following year, the Yearly Meeting still feeling the subject
to be of general interest to Friends in various parts, drew
to it the attention of their brethren in England, requesting
them, as they corresponded with the other Yearly Meet
ings, where the slaves were more numerous than in Penn
sylvania, to express to them their sense and judgment on
this important subject.
About the year 1717, the Yearly Meeting of Rhode
Island had the subject brought before it by some Friends,
who had felt much concern on account of the importation
and keeping of slaves ; but no decisive minute was then
made.

1758.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 353
In 1729, the faithful Friends of Chester queried of the
Yearly Meeting of Pennsylvania, whether, as the members
were restricted by former advices from importing slaves, it
were not equally reasonable that they should be prohibited
from purchasing them when imported ; and the Yearly
Meeting, uniting in this view, issued advice accordingly.
This advice was repeated in 1735, and annually renewed
afterwards, with one exception, till 1743 ; and frequent la
bor was from this time forward extended by the Monthly
Meetings, to induce those members who were in the way of
buying or selling slaves, to cease from the unchristian prac
tice. In this year, a query as to the clearness of Friends
from importing or buying negroes, was added to those here
tofore annually answered by the Monthly Meetings.
The Yearly Meeting of London, in its printed epistle of
1758, " fervently warned all in profession with us, carefully
to avoid being in any way concerned in reaping the un
righteous profits of that iniquitous practice of dealing in
slaves, whereby one man selleth another as he does the
beast that perisheth, without any better pretension to a
property in him than that of superior force." This advice
was adopted by the Rhode Island Yearly Meeting as a part
of their discipline ; and a query was also adopted the same
year, whether Friends were clear of importing or buying
slaves, and whether, when possessed of any by inheritance
or otherwise, they used them well, and endeavored to train
them up in the principles of religion.
While the Society as a body was thus clearing itself of
importing, buying, or selling slaves, the concern was
spreading among the members on account of slavery itself;
and Friends in various parts felt more and more deeply its
utter repugnance to the spirit of the gospel. Among the
foremost of these were John Woolman and Anthony Ben-
ezet ; the former of whom, in 1754, published his " Consid
erations on the Keeping of Negroes," which was widely and
30*

354 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1776.
usefully circulated among Friends. And in the same year,
the Yearly Meeting of Pennsylvania issued an excellent
epistle on the subject, the substance of which was sent up
from Philadelphia Monthly Meeting, and is believed to
have been from the pen of Anthony Benezet. In this epis
tle, Friends are earnestly reasoned with, and entreated " in
gospel love, seriously to weigh the cause of detaining them
in bondage;" and in 1758, the Yearly Meeting again ear
nestly pressed upon Friends who had any slaves, " to set
them at liberty, making a Christian provision for them,
according to their ages, &c. ; " and appointed a committee,
consisting of John Woolman and others, to visit all such
Friends as held slaves, and endeavor to persuade them to
set them free. Slaveholders were now also declared inca
pable of being employed in the service of the Society.
For several years the subordinate meetings were ex
horted to labor in Christian love and meekness with those
who still continued this practice ; and from 1767, regular
statements of this labor, and of the success which at
tended it, were forwarded to the Yearly Meeting. It
does not appear that many were disowned for purchasing
or selling slaves. The earnestness of the labor, coupled
with forbearance, had the happier effect of inducing the
greater number to abstain from doing either ; and by the
year 1774, this Yearly Meeting may be said to have
cleared its members from dealing in slaves. A further
step was taken this year, by the Yearly Meeting, direct
ing that the cases of such as still persisted, notwithstand
ing the labor of their Friends, to retain their fellow-
men in bondage, should be brought up the next year for
further consideration and adjudication by the body. The
practice of hiring slaves, on wages to be paid to their mas
ters, was also declared against, as promoting the unright
eous system.
The Yearly Meeting of 1776 repeated the injunctions of

1776.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 355
former years, to earnest and continued labor with the of
fenders on this subject ; and declared its sense that those
who could not be induced to desist from the practice of
holding slaves should, after such patient, persevering, and
ineffectual labor, be testified against as no longer members
of the Society. The subordinate meetings, on receipt of
the minute, appointed committees to carry out the views
of the Yearly Meeting ; but through the divine blessing
which had rested on the endeavors of Friends, the principal
portion of the labor had been already accomplished, and
the greater part of the slaves held by the members of this
Yearly Meeting had been set free. It does not appear that
many were disowned on this account; and it is believed
that by the year 1782, the Yearly Meeting had cleared its
hands entirely of this unrighteous practice.
The Yearly Meeting of Rhode Island, in 1769, appointed
a large committee to visit such Friends as were concerned
in keeping slaves, and endeavor to dissuade them from the
practice ; and the next year, enjoined that all should be set
at liberty that were of age, capacity, and ability suitable
for freedom, and the rest should be well treated, educated,
and encouraged in a religious and virtuous life. And in
1773, they further declared, "that Truth not only requires
the young of capacity and ability, but likewise the aged and
impotent, and all in a state of infancy and non-age among
Friends, to be set free from a state of slavery, that we do
no more claim property in the human race, as we do in the
brutes that perish." Four years after this noble testimony,
a committee was appointed to aid the meetings in laboring
with individuals for effecting the discharge of all who were
held in bondage ; which reported the next year, that most
of the slaves were manumitted in their presence, and en
couragement was given to hope that the rest would all be
set at liberty.
In 1782, this Yearly Meeting recorded, doubtless with a

356 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1787.
feeling of thankfulness to the Author of all good : " We
know not but all the members of this meeting are clear of
that iniquitous practice of holding or dealing with mankind
as slaves."
The Yearly Meeting of New York, previous to 1759,
had manifested its disapprobation of the slave-trade; and
in 1767 the question was sent up for its judgment from Pur
chase Quarterly Meeting, whether the holding of our fel
low-men in slavery were any more consistent with the
Christian spirit, than the buying or selling of them. But
it does not appear what notice was taken of this question.
Four years after this, however, a communication from
Philadelphia Yearly Meeting on the subject of keeping
slaves was read, and copies sent to the Quarterly Meetings;
and a committee was appointed " to visit them that have
slaves, and see if there can a freedom be obtained for them
that are suitable for it ; and such as are not set free, suit
ably instructed and provided for." And in 1777, after
laboring for several years with those who adhered to the
practice, the Yearly Meeting directed that such as persisted
in refusing to comply with the advice of their Friends,
should be testified against. The answers to the queries
from this time, state the care exercised by meetings in these
respects, and few slaves appear now to have been left
among Friends. A solitary one was reported in 1784 and
1785 ; and in 1787 it was recorded that no Friends of that
Yearly Meeting were concerned in negroes, as slaves.
The first step taken in this concern by the Yearly Meet
ing of Virginia, was the adoption of a query, in 1757, de
signed to forbid the traffic in slaves, and to enjoin the
religious care of those already in possession of their mem
bers. But their minds, like those of their brethren in
other parts, were gradually enlightened to a full view of
the inconsistency of slavery itself with the benign precepts
of the gospel. The subject at various times engaged the

1784.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 357
attention of the body, until in 1773, the Yearly Meeting
earnestly recommended all their members who had slaves
to give them their liberty when of mature age, declaring
that they believed " the time is come when every member
of our religious Society who continues to support or counte
nance this crying evil, either by continuing their fellow-
creatures in bondage, or hiring such who may be kept in
that state, should be admonished and advised to discon
tinue such practices." The members were also tenderly
reminded that a proper sense of their religious duty to
these poor people would lead them "to advise and assist
them on all occasions, particularly in promoting their in
struction in the principles of the Christian religion, and
the pious education of their children ; also to advise
them in their worldly concerns, as occasions offer," — "it
being the solid sense of this meeting, that we of the pres
ent generation are under strong obligations to express our
love and concern for the offspring of those people, who, by
their labors, have greatly contributed towards the cultiva
tion of these colonies, under the afflictive disadvantage of
enduring a hard bondage ; and many amongst us are en
joying the benefit of their toil."
A deep concern prevailed in the Yearly Meetings of
1782 and 1783 on this subject ; and in 1784, as some indi
viduals still declined to comply with the advice of their
Friends, the Monthly Meetings were directed to extend
such further care and labor, as they apprehended would be
useful ; and where these endeavors proved ineffectual, were
authorized to disown the offenders. Three years after this,
as it appeared that some still continued unfaithful, the
Monthly Meetings were again exhorted to enforce the dis
cipline ; and thus, by patient and continued exertion they
cleared their hands of this stain on any Christian com
munity. We have thus seen the calm, cautious, and Christian.-

358 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1784.
like manner in which this great subject was approached
by the Society, and the success which crowned their perse
vering efforts to free every slave within their borders. But
they did not stop here. As the Society dwelt under the
religious exercise which had been brought over it by the
participation of its members in this grievous sin, a concern
spread for making reparation to the slaves themselves for
their labor, and for promoting the religious welfare of
them and their descendants. Committees were appointed,
and funds provided to assist the free people of color with
their advice, and to secure the education and religious in
struction of their children.. Religious meetings were fre
quently appointed for them, which were held to good satis
faction ; religious visits were in some places paid to their
families, and many instances occurred in which the negroes
were remunerated in money for the services which they or
their parents had rendered whilst in a state of slavery.
By Rhode Island Yearly Meeting, committees were di
rected to be appointed in the Quarterly Meetings, to labor
for an equitable settlement for their past services, and
where any persisted in refusing to comply with the advice
of the committees in this respect, they were to be dealt
with as " disorderly walkers." Although disownment was
thus authorized, the object was gained without resorting
to it in any case; so that in 1787 the effecting of a satis
factory settlement for the past services of those who had
been held in slavery in that Yearly Meeting, was happily
brought to a close. Something similar to this took place
within the Yearly Meeting of New York, and probably
also in the other parts of the Society.
It was not till all these duties were performed, and this
debt of justice had been paid, that the Society felt itself
called upon to plead the cause of the slave before the
world at large, and to remonstrate with the rulers and the
people against the iniquity of the slave-trade and the

1720.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 359
wickedness of slaveholding ; the first memorial to the
general government having been presented by the Yearly
Meeting of Pennsylvania, about two years after the ex
tinction of slavery within its own limits. From that
period the Society has continued to labor with diligence
and perseverance in this righteous cause ; endeavoring to
enlighten the public mind respecting the enormities of the
slave-trade and slavery ; to prepare the way for the ex
tinction of these foul blots upon the Christian name, and
to ameliorate the condition of the free people of color.

CHAPTER XLI.
ACCOUNT OF JOHN WOOLMAN.
WE have seen that John Woolman was one of the most
useful instruments in clearing the Society of Friends
from any participation in holding their fellow-men in
bondage. He was born at Northampton, Burlington county, New
Jersey, in the year 1720 ; and before he was seven years
old, he was favored with an experience of the operations
of Divine love, tendering his mind, and producing a love
of retirement and religious thoughtfulness beyond most
children of his years. When his school-fellows were en
gaged in play, he delighted more in sitting in some re
tired spot, and there perusing the Holy Scriptures, in
reading which his mind was sweetly attracted to seek
after the state of purity, which he was led to believe the
Almighty designed his servants to be found in.
He was from early youth remarkable for his tender feel-

360 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1737.
ings and sympathy for the distressed, whether of his fellow-
men or the irrational animals. During his childhood,
going once to a neighbor's house, he saw a robin near the
road, sitting on her nest and cherishing a brood of young
ones. As he drew near, she fluttered about, and betrayed
her anxiety for the safety of her little flock. But John,
in his childish sport, and without much thought of the
consequence, threw a stone at her, which struck the poor
bird, and she fell down dead. He was almost immediately
seized with horror, on contemplating the effects of his wan
ton act. He beheld the bird lying dead, and thought of
the helpless little ones for which she had been so careful,
and which must now perish for want of their parent to
nourish them. After some painful feelings, he climbed the
tree, and taking the young ones from the nest, destroyed
them all, thinking that better than to leave them to pine
away and miserably die of starvation. He was reminded
of the Scripture truth, " The tender mercies of the wicked
are cruel ; '' and for some time was greatly distressed, and
could think of little else than the cruelties he had com
mitted. As he grew towards the seventeenth year of his age, his
youthful nature indulged in a love of company, which be
came a snare to his better feelings, and made work for bit
ter repentance. He was led away into some gayeties, and
though he did not commit things commonly reputed re
proachful, and still retained a love for pious people, par
ticularly for his religiously concerned parents, yet he yielded
to the temptations of the enemy of his happiness, in many
things which afterwards produced great remorse. About
the age of eighteen, the judgments of the Almighty fol
lowed him very closely, and he was, in looking over his
conduct, often made sad, and longed to be delivered from
those vanities in which he had become entangled. At
times however, his heart, being strongly inclined towards

1739.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 361
them, turned again to folly ; then sorrow and confusion re-
newedly seized him, and he resolved to forsake these vani
ties. But there remained in his heart a secret reserve —
his will was not fully subjected to the Divine will — and
consequently his resolutions of reformation were not effect
ual. At length however, through the merciful continuance
of heavenly visitations, he was made to bow down in spirit
before the Lord ; and looking seriously at the means by
which he had been drawn away from the pure truth, he
learned that if he would live in the life which the faithful
servants of the Most High lived in, he must not henceforth
go into company as he had done, in his own will ; but all
the inclinations of his natural mind must be governed by
the manifestations of the Divine Spirit.
Keeping to these convictions, living under the cross of
Christ, and simpty following the openings of His Spirit
from day to day, his mind became more enlightened ; his
heart was often contrited before the Lord ; an unspeakable
change was wrought in him from the unregenerate nature ;
and universal love to his fellow-creatures, attending the
true love and fear of his Creator, became more and more
the clothing of his spirit. He still found himself often en
compassed with great weakness and liability to temptation ;
and therefore frequently withdrawing into private places,
he besought the Lord with tears, to enable him to overcome
temptation ; and His gracious ear was open fo his cry.
After a while, his former acquaintance ceased to expect
him as one of their company, and he began to be known to
some whose conversation was helpful to him. The tender
ness of his spirit increased, and his mind became still more
strongly engaged for the good of his fellow-creatures. He
went to religious meetings in an awful frame of mind, and
endeavored when there to obtain an inward acquaintance
with the language of the true Shepherd. One day, under
a strong exercise of spirit, he ventured to stand up in a
31

362 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1742.
meeting and express a few words ; but not keeping to the
divins opening, he said more than was required of him ;
and soon becoming sensible of his error, it was a source of
great affliction to him for several weeks. He was however
at length favored with a sense of forgiveness ; - and some
time afterwards, again feeling called upon to say a few
words, in the spring of Divine love, he was faithful to the
requisition, kept to his Guide, and found peace. And
being now humbled and disciplined under the cross, his
understanding became more enlightened to distinguish the
promptings of the pure Spirit in the heart, which some
times taught him to wait in silence for many weeks to
gether, until he felt that to arise, which prepares the crea
ture "to stand like a trumpet," through which the Lord
speaks to his flock. He was thus taught to watch the pure
opening of the spring of Gospel ministry ; and also to take
heed, lest, while he was standing to speak, his own will
should get uppermost, and cause him to utter words from
worldly wisdom, without the right authority. He was then
about twenty-two years of age.
In the management of his outward affairs, he found this
inward monitor a true support and source of safety; and
he felt renewed solicitude that he might in all things act
from an inward principle of virtue, and pursue worldly
business no further than Truth opened his way therein.
His employer had a negro slave ; and selling her, desired
John to write a bill of sale. The thing was sudden, as the
man who bought her was waiting ; and though the thought
of it felt uneasy to him, yet considering that he was hired,
and that the purchaser was also a member of the Society
of Friends, through weakness he gave way, and wrote the
deed. But at the executing of it, he became so much dis
tressed, that he told the parties, he believed slave-keeping
was a practice inconsistent with the Christian religion.
Some time after this, another Friend asked him to write a

1742.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS 863
deed of conveyance of a slave. But he now attended to
his scruples, and told the person, he was not easy to write
it ; for though many kept slaves, he still believed the prac
tice was not right.
From this time, his views appear to have been very
clear, respecting the entire inconsistency of slaveholding
with the pure religion of Christ; and he was often led,
under the constraining love of the Father of all, to plead
with those of his fellow-members, and of other communi
ties also, whose attention had not at that time been suffi
ciently directed to the subject, to enable them to see its
iniquity. And laboring as he did in great tenderness, and
under true religious concern, his efforts were blessed, and
many were convinced of the sin of slavery, and set their
captives free.
But his mind was not so fully engrossed with this im
portant subject as to divert his attention from his other re
ligious duties. He was a zealous advocate for true ancient
simplicity. His mind, through the power of Truth, being
much weaned from the desire of outward greatness, he
learned to be content with real conveniences, that were
not costly ; so that a way of life free from much entangle
ment, appeared to him to be the best, though the income
might be small. He had several offers of business that ap
peared profitable ; but did not see his way clear to accept
of them, believing the business proposed would be attended
with more care and cumber than it was best for him to
engage in. He saw that an humble man, with the Lord's
blessing, might live on little ; and that where the heart
was set on greatness, success, in business did not satisfy the
craving ; but that commonly with an increase of wealth,
the desire for wealth increased. He was solicitous so to
pass his time, that nothing might hinder him from the most
steady attention to the voice of the true Shepherd.
He was often engaged from home as a minister of the

364 historical memoirs of [1762.
gospel, to the edification and comfort ofthe churches where
he travelled ; and was greatly concerned to exhort his fel
low professors to a self-denying life, and an inward acquaint
ance with the Most High. The preservation of the members
of the Society of Friends in this great feature of true
Christianity, was a constant subject of his solicitude, and
he took care that his own life and conversation should not
prove a stumbling-block in this respect to the most tender
seeker after truth.
In the year 1754, as we have seen, he published the first
part of his " Considerations on the Keeping of Negroes ;
recommended to the professors of Christianity of every
denomination." In this essay he commences by stating
the great position, that religion is the ground of universal
brotherhood, removing that spirit which would say, in a
consciousness of superior advantages, "Stand by thyself,
come not near me ; for I am holier than thou." He pro
ceeds to show that the love of the Father of all is universal,
and that the heart influenced thereby, becomes enlarged to
wards all mankind — that in humbly applying to God for
wisdom, our judgment may be enabled to discern the dif
ference between right and wrong — that the golden rule
" whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye
even so to them," is applicable to all men — that the pur
chase of a man who has never forfeited his right to liberty
does not by any means deprive him of this natural right —
and that if we cherish motives of self-interest at variance
with the general welfare of the great brotherhood of man
kind, we shall be unable to answer the Almighty, when He
ariseth " to make inquisition for blood." The second part
was published in 1762 ; in which he dilates on some argu
ments briefly noticed in the former essay, combats the in
ferences deduced by some from the instances of a kind of
servitude existing among the Hebrews — gives some ac
count of the horrors of the slave-trade — and shows that if

1762.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 365
we claim any right of possession in these people as the chil
dren of slaves, we build on the foundation laid by those
who made slaves of their ancestors, and thus sanction
this grievous and crying wickedness. He admits that
there may be difficulties met with in emancipating the
negroes; but inasmuch as we are greatly indebted to
them for their unrequited services, we must patiently sub
mit to some inconvenience, and while the evil-doer might
be restrained or punished, we must not forget the right
of the innocent to his liberty: and he thus beautifully
draws towards a conclusion, with religion the end, as it was
the beginning and foundation of his argument. " There is
a principle, which is pure, placed in the human mind,
which hath had different names — it is however pure and
proceeds from God. It is deep and inward, confined to no
forms of religion, nor excluded from any, where the heart
stands in perfect sincerity. In whomsoever this takes root
and grows, of what nation soever, they become brethren, in
the best sense ofthe expression."— "Whoever attains to
perfect goodness and remains under the melting influence
of it, finds a path unknown to many, and sees the necessity
to lean upon the arm of Divine strength, and dwell alone,
or with a few in the right, committing their cause to Him
who is a refuge for his people in all their troubles." —
" Negroes are our fellow-creatures, and their present condi
tion amongst us demands our serious consideration. We
know not when those scales in which mountains are
weighed may turn. The Parent of mankind is gracious —
his care is over his smallest creatures — and a multitude of
men escape not his notice." — "He seeth their affliction,
and looketh upon the exaltation of the oppressor. He
turns the channels of power, humbles the most haughty
people, and gives deliverance to the oppressed, at such
periods as are consistent with his infinite justice and
goodness." 31*

366 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1759.
For several years he was much engaged, both as an indi
vidual, and as a member of various committees appointed
by the church, in exhorting his fellow-members to clear their
hands of this crying evil ; and his labors were blessed with
much success. In company with John Churchman he vis
ited many slaveholders in Philadelphia and its neighbor
hood, in 1759 ; which service he describes as " a time of
deep exercise, looking often to the Lord for his assistance;
who, in unspeakable kindness, favored us with the influence
of that spirit, which crucifies to the greatness and splendor
of this world, and enabled us to go through some heavy
labors, in which we found peace — and with thankfulness to
our Heavenly Father, I may say that Divine love, and a true
sympathizing tenderness of heart, prevailed at times in this
service." In this acknowledgment we see the true temper
of mind described, in which our efforts in promoting this
righteous cause should ever be carried on ; not with the
heated zeal of man's natural will— thinking with Saul that
we may be "doing God service" — but in the peaceable
and gentle spirit of the Lamb, seeking the welfare and con
vincement of all, and stepping forward according to the
pure pointings of the heavenly finger.
His manner of proceeding in these visits may be still
further elucidated by the following description of an exer
cise which came over him in Rhode Island. " The Yearly
Meeting," says he, " being now over, there remained on my
mind a secret, though heavy exercise, in regard to some
leading active members about Newport, being in the prac
tice of slave-keeping. This I mentioned to two ancient
Friends who came out of the country, and proposed to
them, if way opened, to have some conversation with those
Friends : and thereupon, one of those country Friends and
myself consulted one of the most noted elders who had
slaves ; and he, in a respectful manner, encouraged me to
proceed to clear myself of what lay upon me. I had had,

1763.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 367
near the beginning of the Yearly Meeting, a private con
ference with this elder and his wife, concerning theirs ; so
that the way seemed clear to me, to advise with him about
the manner of proceeding. I told him, I was free to have
a conference with them all together in a private house ; or
if he thought they would take it unkind to be asked to
come together, and to be spoken with in the hearing of
each other, I was free to spend some time among them, and
visit them all in their own houses. He expressed his liking
to the first proposal, not doubting their willingness to come
together ; and as I proposed a visit to ministers, elders, and
overseers only, he named some others, who he desired might
be present also. As a careful messenger was wanted to ac
quaint them in a proper manner, he offered to go to all
their houses to open the matter to them ; and did so.
About the eighth hour next morning, we met in the meet
ing-house chamber — when, after a short time of retirement,
I acquainted them with the steps I had taken in procuring
that meeting, opened the concern I was under, and we pro
ceeded to a free conference on the subject. My exercise
was heavy, and I was deeply bowed in spirit before the
Lord; who was pleased to favor with the seasoning virtue
of Truth, which wrought a tenderness amongst us ; and the
subject was mutually handled in a calm and peaceable
spirit. At length, feeling my mind released from the bur
den which I had been under, I took my leave of them in
a good degree of satisfaction."
In 1763, under gospel solicitude for the welfare of the
Indian natives of Pennsylvania, he paid a religious visit to
the Indians residing about Wyoming and Wehaloosing on
the Susquehanna River, nearly two hundred miles from
the city of Philadelphia ; in which visit he was drawn into
near sympathy with these poor people, and qualified at
times by his divine Master, to impart counsel, and direct
them fo that unerring Guide in the secret of the heart,

368 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1763.
which would lead all men, without distinction of color, to
a saving knowledge of the Lord, their Maker and their
Redeemer. He often spoke to them through interpreters ;
but on one occasion, feeling his mind covered with the
spirit of prayer, he expressed his willingness for them to
omit interpreting. The meeting ended with feelings of so
lemnity ; and before the people went away, one of the In
dians who had been zealously laboring for a reformation
among them, remarked to the interpreter, " I love to feel
where words come from ; " thus manifesting that though the
language was foreign, yet there was a savor accompany
ing this heaven-prompted prayer, which had met a sym
pathetic feeling in the mind of this simple child of the
forest. Another Christian concern which came upon him this
year, was occasioned by a juggler coming to Mount Holly,
the place of his residence, and attracting many of the in
habitants to a certain public house to see his foolish tricks.
He says, " I heard of it the next day, and understanding
that the show was to be continued, and the people to meet
about sunset, I felt an exercise on that account. So I went
to the public house in the evening, and told the man of
the house that I had an inclination to spend part of the
evening there ; with which he signified that he was content.
Then sitting down by the door, I spoke to the people as
they came together, concerning this show ; and more com
ing and sitting down with us, the seats at the door were
mostly filled ; and I had conversation with them in the
fear of the Lord, and labored to convince them that thus
assembling to see those tricks, or sleights of hand, and be
stowing their money to support men who in that capacity
were of no use in the world, was contrary to the nature of
the Christian religion. There was one of the company,
who, for a time, endeavored by arguments to show the
reasonableness of their proceedings ; but after considering

1772.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 369
some texts of Scripture, and calmly debating the matter,
he gave up the point. Having spent about an hour amongst
them, and feeling my mind easy, I departed."
In the year 1770, John Woolman was brought very low
by a severe attack of pleurisy ; during which dispensation
his mind was kept calm, and favored with some openings
into the excellency of heavenly wisdom. One day he dic
tated the following instructive remarks on prayer :
" The place of prayer is a precious habitation ; for I now
saw that the prayers of the saints were precious incense :
and a trumpet was given me, that I might sound forth this
language, that the children might hear it, and be invited
to gather to this precious habitation, where the prayers of
the saints, as precious incense, arise up before the throne
of God and the Lamb. I saw this habitation to be safe ;
to be inwardly quiet, when there were great stirrings and
commotions in the world. Prayer at this day, in pure
resignation, is a precious place : the trumpet is sounded —
the call goes forth to the church — that she gather to the
place of pure inward prayer ; and her habitation is safe."
He had for some time had an impression on his mind
that he should be called to labor in the gospel beyond the
sea ; and this concern ripening, he sailed with the unity of
his friends for England in 1772, in company with Samuel
Emlen. In travelling up and down in England, he was
greatly affected in observing the splendor and delicacy in
which many indulged themselves, while multitudes of their
fellow-creatures were not able to obtain the necessary com
forts of life ; and he labored faithfully to encourage those
of his own Society to simplicity and purity of life, in
accordance with their self-denying profession. The last
sentence in his journal on this journey is worthy of preser
vation. " In this journey a labor hath attended my mind, that
the ministers amongst us may be preserved in the meek,

370 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1772.
feeling life of Truth, where we may have no desire, but to
follow Christ and be with him ; — that when He is under
suffering, we may suffer with Him — and never desire to
rise up in dominion, but as He by the virtue of his own
Spirit may raise us."
A few days after writing this, he came to the city of
York, where he was soon taken ill of the small-pox. Dur
ing his illness, he uttered many heavenly expressions;
ejaculating on one occasion in the following manner : " In
the depths of misery, O Lord ! I remembered that thou
art omnipotent,— that I had called thee Father — and I
felt that I loved thee — and I was made quiet in thy will
— and I waited for deliverance from thee. Thou hadst
pity upon me when no man could help me. I saw that
meekness under suffering was showed to us in the most
affecting example of thy Son, and thou taughtest me to
follow Him — and I said, thy will, O Father, be done ! "
On another occasion, he said, " I feel the disorder making
its progress, but my mind is mercifully preserved in still
ness and peace." Again, "My mind enjoys a perfect
calm." In the night he exclaimed with great earnestness,
" O my Father ! my Father ! how comfortable art thou to
my soul in this trying season ! " And being invited to
take a little nourishment, he remarked, " I seem nearly
arrived where my soul shall have rest from all its troubles."
A day or two afterwards, he broke forth in supplication
in this manner : " 0 Lord, it was thy power that enabled
me to forsake sin in my youth ; and I have felt thy bruises
for disobedience ; but as I bowed under them thou healedst
me, continuing a father and a friend. I feel thy power now ;
and I beg that in the approaching trying moment, thou
wilt keep my heart steadfast unto thee." Perceiving a
Friend to weep, he said, " I would rather thou wouldst
guard against weeping for me, my sister. I sorrow not,
though I have had some painful conflicts ; bvt niw they

1775] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 371
seem over, and matters well settled, and I look at the face
of my dear Redeemer, for sweet is his voice and his counte
nance is comely." Some time after, he said to his medical
attendant, " My dependence is on the Lord Jesus, who I
trust will forgive my sins, which is all I hope for." Thus
humbly, yet confidently, did this devoted servant of Christ
look to the mercy of his Lord : who took him to Himself
in sweet peace, without sigh, groan, or struggle, in the fifty-
second year of his age.

CHAPTER XLII.
ACCOUNT OF JOHN CHURCHMAN.
IN the year 1775, died John Churchman, one of John
Woolman's fellow-laborers in the gospel of peace, and
in the cause of his afflicted brethren of the African race.
He was born in the county of Chester, Pennsylvania, in
the year 1705, and was tenderly educated by his parents in
the profession of the Society of Friends, and early habit
uated to a diligent attendance of religious meetings. He
felt the reproofs of the Lord's Holy Spirit for evil words
and actions at a very early period of his life ; but knew
not whence they came, until he was about eight years
of age ; when sitting one day in a small meeting, the Lord
by his heavenly love and goodness overcame and tendered
his heart, and by his glorious Light, discovered to him a
knowledge of Himself. He was enabled to see where he
was in the Divine sight, even in a state of vanity and
estrangement from his Heavenly Father ; and was merci
fully made to feel also, that the forgiveness of his sins

372 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1775.
would follow his obedience to the discoveries of this Divine
Light of Christ in his soul, reproving for sin and restrain
ing from it ; so that he might witness a dying indeed to
sin, and a being raised by the power of God, into newness
of life in Christ Jesus, no longer to live to himself, to fulfil
the inclinations of the flesh, but to live unto Him who died
to take away sin.
It was his practice, when a child, on going to rest for the
night, to examine how he had spent the past day, and en
deavor to feel the presence of the Lord near. This practice
he found greatly helpful in enabling him to sleep with a
sweet and easy mind. But notwithstanding he had been
thus favored, when quite young, and enlightened to behold
the beauty of true religion, yet as he advanced in years,
through un watchfulness he lost in degree this tender state
of mind, and began to take pleasure in many things which
he had formerly been convinced were wrong. He indulged
a fondness for small musical instruments, and an aptness
for jesting and witty turns in conversation, and neglected
the right improvement of his mind. The condemnation
which afterwards was his portion Sn account of his light
ness and fbrgetfulness of God, was not to be expressed.
He was followed by that merciful Hand which waited to
pluck his feet out of the mire and clay into which he had
fallen ; and was visited by deep convictions of the sinful
ness of his course. He became afraid even to be looked at
in the face by virtuous persons, lest they should discern the
wickedness of his heart. In this miserable condition he
arrived at the nineteenth year of his age ; when as he was
one day walking to meeting, thinking on his forlorn con
dition, and remembering the heavenly bread of which he
had partaken when he was a dutiful child ; but of which
he had now, by straying from the heavenly Father's house,
been eight years in grievous want ; he inwardly cried unto
the Most High, "If thou art pleased again to visit me I

1775.] . THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 373
beseech thee, O Lord, visit my body with sickness, or pain,
or whatever thou mayst please, so that the will of the 'old
man' may be slain, and everything in me that thy contro
versy is against ; that I may be made a sanctified vessel by
thy power. Spare only my life, until my redemption is
wrought, and my peace made with thee ! " After this, he
remained for several months in the same disconsolate con
dition ; but when he had attained the age of twenty years,
it pleased the Lord to remember him in judgments mixed
with mercy, and make way for his deliverance. He was
visited with a severe fit of sickness ; which in a few days
fully awakened him. His mis-spent time and all his trans
gressions were brought to his remembrance with heavy con
demnation. In great distress he cried to the Lord for pity
and deliverance from sin ; his heart was made exceedingly
tender under an awful sense of his condition; he wept
much ; and threw himself on the mercy of Him whose
compassions fail not ; and the Lord heard his cry, looked
down from His holy habitation, and gave him a willing
heart to bear those chastisements which were needful to
cleanse and purify hiii, and create him anew in Christ
Jesus unto good works. It pleased the Almighty to restore
him after a while to health ; and he was frequently hum
bled under a sense of the tender dealings of Him whose
goodness and owning love he felt to be very near. From
this time he loved retirement, wherein he could feel after
the incomes of this love and goodness, which he felt to be
his life; and was often fearful lest he should again fall
away. It was soon manifested to him, that if he continued
faithful, he would be called to the work of the ministry.
He loved to attend religious meetings, both for divine wor
ship and for the discipline of the church ; and it was shown
to him, that all those who attend these meetings for disci
pline should wait in great awfulness, to know the immediate
presence of Christ, the Head of the church, to give them
32

374 HISTORICAL MEMOIES OF [1775
an understanding what their several services are, and for
ability to answer his requirings ; for none should presume
to speak or act without the motion and direction of His
light and Spirit. It was accordingly in great fear, that he
attempted to speak in these meetings ; but as he kept low,
with an eye single to the honor of Truth, his peace and
inward strength were increased from time to time.
This was a time of growing in the root of life. He
rarely passed a day without feeling the incomes of divine
life and love ; though afterwards he was left for many days
together without inward refreshment, and was taught not
only how to abound, but also to suffer need, and to abide
faithful under the withdrawings of the beloved of his soul.
About the twenty-sixth year of his age, he was appointed
with some other Friends to perform a religious visit to the
families of the meeting where he resided. During this visit
he first felt the motion of the Holy Spirit prompting to the
exercise of gospel ministry ; but through diffidence he put
it away, and did not yield himself up to the requiring.
The consequence of this unfaithfulness was a sense of de
sertion. After the visits were over, he kept much at home,
and had work enough to watch against a lukewarm, indo
lent spirit, which would come over him when endeavoring
to wait upon God. For though he came to meeting in a
lively engagement of mind, he found the warfare against
lukewarmness, sleepiness, and a roving imagination, must
be steadily maintained ; and that if none of these hin
drances were given way to, the Lord, when he had proved
his children, would arise for their help, scatter their ene
mies, and enable them to worship Him.
In the year 1731, he was appointed to the station of el
der, though not yet twenty-seven years of age; and two
years afterwards, was again united with other Friends in a
family visit. He now began to think he had been under
a delusion, in entertaining a belief that he should be called

1775.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 375
to the work of the ministry ; but one First-day going to
Kennet meeting, toward the close, something was impressed
on his mind to offer to those assembled. Fearful and
diffident, he had nearly forborne ; but remembering what
he had before suffered for disobedience, he stood up, and
spoke a few sentences in fear and brokenness of spirit ; and
had satisfaction and peace in the dedication. On finishing
the family visit, he returned home, and shortly after had
again to open his mouth in the awful work of the ministry.
He was gradually enabled clearly to discern between the
promptings of warmth of affection for the people, which
would lead to " offering strange fire " that would have no
efficacy in it, and the pure motions of the Lord's Spirit,
with a necessity laid upon the poor servant, and a " woe, if
thou preach not the gospel." From this time he grew
steadily in the gift, and was often engaged in travelling in
the service of his good Master, to the comfort and edifica
tion of the churches. In 1750, he embarked for Europe,
and spent four years in visiting Great Britain, Ireland,
and Holland ; and through the course of a long life spent
in the promotion of righteousness, he proved himself "a
workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing
the word of truth."
In the seventieth year of his age, it pleased his divine
Master to say of all his labors in His cause, "it is enough,"
and to call him to his everlasting reward. During his
sickness, he frequently expressed his resignation to the will
of the Almighty, and especially toward the latter part of it,
he frequently broke forth in heavenly melody, and aspira
tion of soul in praise to Him who had been pleased to
shine forth in brightness, after many days of poverty and
deep baptism, which had been the means of still further
purifying from the dregs of nature. Being asked by a
Friend, how he was, he replied, " I am yet in the body ; and
when I go out of it, I hope there is nothing but peace ; "

376 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1775.
and soon after added, "I have seen that all the bustles and
noises that are now in the world, will end in confusion ;
and our young men who know not an establishment in the
Truth, and the Lord's fear for a ballast, will be caught in
a trying moment." At another time he said, "I feel
nothing but peace, having endeavored honestly to discharge
myself in public, and privately to individuals, as I appre
hended was required."
With reference to the Society of which he was a member,
he thus expressed himself : "I love Friends who abide in
the Truth, as much as ever I did ; and I feel earnest
breathings to the Lord, that there may be those raised up
in the church who may go forth in humility, sweetness, and
life, clear of all superfluity in expressions and otherwise,
standing for the testimony, that they may be useful to the
church." And again, about three days before his death,
several ¦> Friends being in his room, he said: "Friends in
the beginning, if they had health and liberty, were not
easily diverted from paying their tribute of worship to the
Almighty on week-days as well as First-days. But after a
while, when outward sufferings ceased, life and zeal decay
ing, ease and the spirit of the world took place with many,
and thus it became customary for one or two out of a fam
ily to attend meetings, and to leave their children much at
home. Parents also, if worldly concerns were in the way,
could neglect their week-day meetings sometimes, yet be
willing to hold the name, and plead excuse because of a
busy time, or the like. But I believe that such a depar
ture from primitive integrity ever did, and ever will, occa
sion a withering from the life of true religion."
On the 24th day of the Seventh month, he sat up for a
considerable time, and appeared lively and sensible, though
very weak; and thus expressed himself: "I am much re
freshed with my Master's sweet air — I feel more life, more
light, more love and sweetness than ever before;" — and

1798.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 377
often mentioned the Divine refreshment and comfort he
felt, flowing like a pure stream to his inward man. In the
evening he remarked again, "the sweetness that I feel."
Soon afterwards the difficulty of breathing increased, and
at his own request he was placed in a chair; in which he
peacefully expired, leaving the savor on the spirits of those
who knew his character, of " an Israelite indeed, in whom
is no guile."

CHAPTER XLIII.
THE SUFFERINGS OF FRIENDS IN IRELAND, FOR THEIR
FAITHFUL ADHERENCE TO THE PRINCIPLES OF PEACE,
DURING THE REBELLION OF 1798.
IN the latter part of the eighteenth century, divers pro
phetic warnings had shadowed forth the coming of a
storm over Ireland, not only in the political atmosphere,
but also within the peaceful precincts of the Society of
Friends. John Pemberton, who travelled with John
Churchman in Ireland, so far back as 1752, remarks, on
one occasion, that " Friends were exhorted to be more in
ward, and to seek to get into the valley ; for the faith of
some would be tried, and the church also would suffer a
trial ; and it seemed as though the Lord would dry up the
torrents on the mountains, and would restrain the clouds,
[spiritually,] and would scorch these high places, and they
should be barren ; therefore there was need for all to sink
low, and get into the valley of true humility, that they
might have something to refresh them, when the Lord is
pleased to cause a famine of the word to come. It was
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378 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1798.
also testified, that He would likewise prove in an outward
manner, though it was not to be declared in the will of
man, nor the time to be limited ; for ' a thousand years
with the Lord are as one day, and one day as a thousand
years.' Yet if it did not happen in their time, it might in
that of their offspring," &c. Whether these expressions
were uttered by himself, or by John Churchman, does not
appear ; though most probably by the latter. And about
thirty-two years afterwards, William Matthews, travelling
also with John Pemberton in that island, is mentioned by
the latter, as having spoken in a meeting for worship in
the province of Ulster, " of a day of trial, that in some way
or manner would overtake, wherein the professors of the
truth would be deeply proved ; and therefore Friends were
exhorted to be prepared for it." John Pemberton was also
present at a meeting in Dublin, at the conclusion of the
National Half-year's Meeting, in 1783, wherein Mary
Ridgway spoke prophetically " of a day approaching that
would try the foundations of the professors of Truth."
And a few days afterwards, "our dear friend Samuel
Neale had to express, in a lively, feeling manner, his sense
of a day approaching, which would prove the faith and try
the foundations of the professors of the Truth. He had
not only at that time, but at divers others, been made
deeply sensible thereof — whether by pestilence, or other
means, he could not tell — but he exhorted Friends to
prepare for trials."
The deeds to be narrated in the few succeeding pages,
developing in some degree, the scenes of insurrectionary
violence and rapine which brought Ireland into anarchy
and distress towards the close of that century; and the
closely following deep trials which had well nigh over
whelmed the Society of Friends in Ireland, in perils from
false brethren, will naturally lead to the conclusion, that
the Most High still continues to favor his faithful servants

1798.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 379
with a true sense of the state and dangers of the church,
and even, at times, with a prophetic insight into the
counsels of his holy will.
About the year 1798, this beautiful island became the
scene of all the horrors of civil war. It is not needful here
to detail the causes which led to this rebellion ; which was
a struggle against the government, by a party incongru
ously composed of two classes : the one crying out for civil
license, and the other for Popish superstition ; under the
respective names of liberty, and of religious uniformity.
In their attempts to accomplish their object, the insurgents
defied all order and government, and committed most
dreadful ravages in various parts of the country. The
Society of Friends was a numerous body, particularly in
the eastern portion of the island ; and as it could neither
unite on the one hand with the insurgents, nor concur on
the other with the warlike measures of the government to
suppress them, it was not to be supposed that either party
would feel very friendly towards its members. There was
therefore a gloomy prospect for those who were disposed to
look forward with the eye of human reason, rather than
with that of faith in the protecting arm of Him who never
forsakes his flock.
Friends saw the gathering storm, and endeavored to
strengthen each other for the trials which might await
them. Before the rebellion broke out into actual blood
shed, both parties in the struggle successively made search
in private houses for arms. The Quarterly Meetings had
in 1795-6 recommended to all their members, that those
who had guns or other weapons in their houses, should de
stroy them, in order " to prevent their being made use of to
the destruction of any of our fellow-creatures, and more
fully and clearly to support our peaceable and Christian
testimony in these perilous times." Committees had been

380 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1798.
appointed by the several Monthly Meetings, to go round to
the members, and see that this recommendation was at
tended to ; whose labors met with considerable success ; so
that when the government ordered all arms to be given up
to the magistrates, it was a source of satisfaction, that the
members generally were found without any such thing in
their possession. They were also much relieved from the
midnight depredations of the insurgents, to which most of
their neighbors were exposed, in the lawless search for
weapons; as it was now known that none were kept in
their houses.
A Friend residing at Ferns, being appointed on one
of these committees, and feeling the necessity of first
clearing his own hands, took his fowling-piece and broke
it in pieces in the street before his door, bearing a testi
mony to his neighbors, of his resolution that nothing of
his should be made use of to the destruction of human
life. Some of the magistrates, with the priest of the
parish, came to his house to expostulate with him on
having destroyed his gun, instead of delivering it up to the
government, to assist in opposing the insurgents, and de
fending himself and his family ; though the priest, as it
were involuntarily, acknowledged that he believed the
Friend put his confidence in a higher power. Shortly
afterwards the town of Enniscorthy was burned, this priest
was murdered, and his body, with many others, was ex
posed several days in the streets, until a few Friends ven
tured to bury what the swine had left of their remains.
One of the magistrates was also murdered, and his house
burned over his body.
This Friend had afterwards opportunities, by standing
firmly to his principles, of alternately saving individuals
of both parties from the cruelties of war. He was how
ever subjected to much danger, on an occasion when the
military were preparing to hang some suspected persons,

1798.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 381
and fasten pitch caps on the heads of others. He foresaw
the probability of his being applied to for ropes, which he
had for sale in his way of business, and the risk which he
might incur, in a time of martial law prevailing, if he re
fused to sell them. But he could not be easy to sell his
goods for a purpose so repugnant to his principles ; and when
the soldiers came to purchase ropes for halters, and linen for
the pitched caps, he nobly refused to sell them, or, when
they were forcibly taken from his shop, to receive any pay
for them. This took place before the general rising in that
part, and becoming known to his neighbors, he had reason
to believe that, under the direction of Divine Providence,
it contributed to the preservation of himself and his family
at that juncture. For very soon after this occurrence,
when the whole town was in consternation and tumult, and
the Protestant inhabitants in continual terror, a man sup
posed to be of the party called " United Irishmen," entered
his house early in the morning, declaring, " Let who may
be killed, the Quakers will be spared." That morning,
houses and grain-stacks were to be seen in flames in all
directions ; the Protestants were fleeing for safety into the
towns and villages, some wounded and bringing dismal news
of others slain ; and every one's concern seemed to be to
escape with his life. The next day the scene was changed.
The military and Protestant inhabitants had left the town
of Ferns, which soon became filled with an ungovernable
mob of many thousand insurgents, following the steps of
the military, and occupied in demolishing the houses and
property of the loyalists. His house was soon filled with
them ; when to his astonishment and humbling admiration,
instead of the massacre which he and his family had ap
prehended, they were met with caresses and protestations
of friendship, and demands of nothing but something to
eat. It happened that the day before, the Friend had pre
pared large quantities of food for the distressed people, who

382 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1798.
had then fled into the town in a destitute condition ; but
this had not been eaten, and now furnished a supply for
the hungry multitude of insurgents who had crowded into
his house. After this, they departed, and in a short time
columns of smoke ascending into the air from a distance of
six miles, gave the melancholy tidings that the whole town
of Enniscorthy was in possession of the insurgents, who
fixed their camp on Vinegar Hill.
The houses of Friends now became asylums for the re
lief of the suffering and the destitute, and often places of
hospitable entertainment, without distinction of party ; so
that it was wonderful how their provisions and means held
out. And though they often appeared in great danger
from each party, on account of their houses being filled
with the adherents of the opposite one, yet preservation
was experienced in a marvellous manner throughout.
The above-mentioned Friend at Ferns was threatened
one morning that his house would be burned that day, for
his refusal to turn out some Protestant women who had
sought refuge with him. He meekly replied, that he could
not but keep his house open to succor the distressed ; and
if they burned it, he must turn out along with his guests,
and share in their affliction. That day being the day on
which the Monthly Meeting was to be held, about a mile
from Ferns, notwithstanding this alarming denunciation,
he believed it his duty to attend the meeting, and took his
family with him, expecting that before the next day he
should be without a habitation or the means of present
support. But his faith was strong in the preserving power
of the Lord ; who saw the sincerity of his obedience, and
caused even the hearts of his enemies to change towards
him, so that they not only refrained from fulfilling their
threats, but never afterwards made a like demand from
him. Soon afterwards, standing at the door of his house while

1793.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 383
the army was entering the town in pursuit of the flying in
surgents, a soldier stepping up, presented his gun at his
breast, and was on the point of drawing the trigger, when
the Friend desired him to "desist from murder." The
soldier was struck with amazement, and immediately let
his gun fall from his shoulder. The commanding officer
afterwards desired, in relation to some suspected persons
made prisoners, who pleaded their innocence, that if there
were any Quakers in the town, these persons would get
certificates of good behavior from them ; and this same
Friend was applied to by several, and had the satisfaction of
procuring their liberation from prison, and perhaps from
death. Friends were now subjected to great danger throughout
the country, but were not willing to relinquish their duty
of assembling together for the public worship of the Al
mighty ; though it was often necessary for them to go many
miles to their meetings, through parts infested with armed
and violent men, and to leave their homes, in all human
probability, a prey to pillage or fire during their absence.
In the county of Wexford, some Friends having been ob
served thus to persevere in attending their place of wor
ship, were apprised by the insurgents, that if they persisted
in it, they should be dragged to the altar of a Popish
chapel near which they passed, and suffer the penalty of
their obstinacy. One family, in particular, received notice,
that unless they gave up the attendance of meetings, and
united in the papal . forms of worship, they should all be
put to death, and their house should be burned. The next
day was meeting-day, and the heads of the family feeling
the solemn responsibility of their situation, were brought
under deep mental exercise, accompanied with fervent
prayers that they might be enabled to come to a right de
termination in this awful crisis. Collecting their family
together into solemn retirement, they laid the matter before

384 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1798.
their children. The noble and Christian language of the
eldest son, then a very young man, was, " Father, rejoice
that we are found worthy to suffer ! " His parents were
much affected, and their minds strengthened to conclude
to attend their meeting as usual. In the morning, accord
ingly, they proceeded to their place of worship along the
public road, not being easy to go privately through the
fields ; and their enemies were prevented from carrying
their threats into execution, by the sudden arrival, un
known to these Friends, of the royal army in that part of
the country. Thus they were preserved from harm, and
had the satisfaction of not having flinched from their duty,
under so great a trial of faith.
A neighboring family of Friends, containing several
daughters, was similarly threatened ; but the young women
faithfully maintained their testimony to the duty of assem
bling to worship the Almighty in that way which He had
pointed out ; and as their parents, being advanced in years,
and having had their horses taken away, were unable to
go so far as the meeting-house, which was about four miles
distant, they sometimes had to walk the whole distance
without any male attendant, in the very height of the com
motions. And though they went by the usual public road,
not being easy to seek a more private way, and thus had
to pass through the midst of the very people who had
threatened them, yet they were preserved from injury. On
one occasion, after being more than usually threatened, the
protection afforded them seemed very remarkable ; for they
were escorted, voluntarily, for several miles, by a dog with
which they were entirely unacquainted, and which left
them on seeing them safe at their own home.
Friends generally of this meeting were threatened with
the flames ; their meeting-house was to be converted into a
Popish chapel; and a blunderbuss was presented at one
Friend, in order to deter him from attending the meeting ;

1798.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 385
but Friends remained firm ; very few were deterred from
the fulfilment of this duty ; and on the very evening before
the meeting-day when so many were to be devoted to destruc
tion, and their houses to the flames, the power of the in
surgents was broken by a decisive battle on Vinegar Hill ;
and during the meeting the next morning, many of these mis
guided people, instead of coming to destroy, actually sought
the meeting-house as an asylum of safety to themselves.
The Friends of Cooladine and Enniscorthy were menaced
in like manner with those of Forrest ; but though some of
them had to lament the loss of their property, and even
the destruction of their houses, yet the threats of personal
violence to them were found to be impotent, and their lives
were providentially preserved.
At the time of the Monthly Meeting at Enniscorthy, the
house was put in preparation to be fired, and some of these
malicious persons were actually in the galleries at the time
when Friends assembled ; but after a while they went away
without doing injury. At the Leinster Quarterly Meeting
also, held at the same place, many Friends assembled from
distant parts ; though at the time it seemed almost impos
sible to accomplish it, and several of them had to pass
through heaps of slain on the road, and were obliged to
remove the dead bodies out of the way, that they might
not trample upon them ; a great slaughter having occurred
at the battle of Vinegar Hill, a day or two before.
An aged Friend had his house entered by the insurgents,
who required him to undergo the Popish ceremony of water
baptism ; and on his refusal, threatened him with certain
death. On their afterwards returning and repeating the
demand, he still firmly refused. A third time, they de
manded his compliance, and he still refusing to sacrifice his
peace by complying with their desires, they told him that
they were now resolved to hang him before they left the
house, if he did not comply. They accordingly fastened a
33

386 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1798.
rope around his neck, took him to an out-house on his
premises, and were in the act of fastening the rope to a
joist for the completion of their wicked design, when a
sudden alarm of the approach of soldiery scattered them,
and his life was preserved.
Friends in the county of Westmeath witnessed many
heart-rending scenes, some of them living in solitary places,
surrounded by the insurgents, and not feeling themselves at
liberty to follow the example and persuasions of their Prot
estant neighbors, in fleeing from their habitations to the
garrison-towns. But being favored with faith and patience
to abide in their lots, and conscientiously adhering to their
principles, they experienced the name of the Lord to be
a strong tower, in which they found safety.
Friends residing in the county of Kildare, though they
were often in danger, escaped personal injury from either
party. The country people generally spoke well of them,
appearing to be sensible that though they would not join
them, neither would they on the other hand take part
against them. When the military came to quell the insur
rection, the Popish priest ran to borrow a Friend's coat, to
disguise himself, and thus save his life. Many respectable
persons of the county of Wexford, on the evening of the
battle of Ross, apprehending themselves not secure in their
own houses, flocked with their families into those of Friends ;
and some of these belonging to an armed association, and
cbjd in military garb, readily acquiesced in the remon
strances of the peaceful proprietors, and assumed a dress in
this time of fear, of a more peaceable appearance. Thus
was protection often witnessed in a wonderful manner to
the Society of Friends, as had been foretold by several
of their ministers some years before, and the prediction of
one in particular was literally fulfilled, who was heard to
declare in gospel authority, that "in a time of trial
which was approaching, if Friends kept their places, many

1798.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 387
would be glad to take shelter under the skirts of their gar
ments." A Protestant minister near Enniscorthy, seeing the dan
ger approaching, requested that the clothes of a Friend
might be given to him, hoping that in such a dress he
might be preserved, or might effect his escape. But it was
remarked, that such a disguise could be of no advantage ;
and he hid himself by the river-side, where he was soon
afterwards found and murdered.
Some circumstances connected with the battle of Antrim
are worthy of record. The regular army was not able to
make a stand against their opponents ; and when it was
found that the latter were likely to enter the town, the in
habitants were directed to close their doors and windows,
and a general dismay spread itself among them. There
was a family of Friends residing in the town, consisting of
a very young man and his sisters, whose father was then
travelling in America in the service of the gospel. At the
time of his preparing to leave Ireland for that purpose, a
fellow-minister was led into public supplication, in the
Quarterly Meeting, for his preservation and safe return,
and expressed a belief that during his absence the sword
would be near his house, and the dead bodies lying in the
streets, but no harm should befall his family, for the Lord
would encamp about them, and preserve them as in the
hollow of His hand. This was now literally accomplished.
At the time of the battle, the family designed staying in
their house ; but when they found that the action had com
menced, and that the cannon was placed directly opposite
their door, thus exposing the house to imminent danger,
they thought of taking refuge in the fields. This however
they found was impracticable, from the dense crowd of
people around their house, as the heat of the action was in
that spot. In a very short time, the insurgents became
masters of the town, cutting off about one-third of the sol-

388 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1798.
diery opposed to them ; but their victory was of short
duration ; for a reinforcement arriving, they were dispersed,
and the town retaken. This family during the battle had
taken in a poor wounded man of the insurrectionary party,
and afforded him what assistance was in their power; but
when the firing had almost ceased, they urged the propriety
of his endeavoring to escape, both for his own safety and
theirs. He had scarcely quitted the premises, when a body
of soldiers knocked furiously at the door, demanded imme
diate entrance, and insisted on knowing whether any stran
gers were in the house. Some were for going up-stairs to
search ; but one ofthe officers observed, that "the Quakers
were people that would not tell a lie — that their word
might be taken — and if any strangers were there, it would
not be denied." The behavior of the soldiers now became
civil, and, they brought in a fatally wounded man of their
own party, to receive their kind attentions, and promised
them protection. After the battle, the town presented an
awful spectacle — dead bodies of men and horses lying in
the blood-stained streets — and the people here and there
saluting their neighbors, as those who had survived a pes
tilence or an earthquake. For several days the inhabitants
were kept in constant alarm, and the part of the town
where this family resided, being a suspected district, was
ordered by the soldiery to be burned. But while the com
manding officer was riding up the street to give the orders,
one of the sisters ventured through the crowd towards him,
and simply asked him if their house was to share the same
dismal fate. He gave her an assurance of protection to
them, and without their knowledge, a yeoman was placed
as a guard at their door, while the work of destruction was
going on. They were afterwards also remarkably saved
from the common fate of the inhabitants, of being plun
dered by the soldiery.
It was not known that during the whole of this gloomy

1798.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 389
season of anarchy and destruction, the Society of Friends
lost more than one of its members by the violence of war.
And this was a young man who had deviated from their
principles, in a faithful adherence to which, his brethren in
profession were so wonderfully preserved. This youth, ap
prehending that he could find no safety for his life but by
outward means of defence, resolved to put on a military
uniform, and to associate with armed men. Telling his
connections that they would all be murdered, if they re
mained in the country in so defenceless a state, he fled to a
neighboring garrison-town. But this very place was at
tacked and taken ; the door of the house where he had been
firing from a window, was forced open by the enraged en
emy ; and though, in terror for his life, he sought conceal
ment in the chimney of an upper chamber, he was discov
ered and put to death ; furnishing an awful example of the
sad result of casting away confidence in the protecting arm
of the Almighty, and bartering the pure principles of
Christianity for a reliance on the arm of flesh.
But the follower of a crucified Lord must not expect
always to escape from suffering, nor make his allegiance
depend on a hope of security in this life. He may be re
quired at times even to offer up his natural life, as a seal
to his testimony for a good conscience. At Kilbroney, in
the county of Wexford, were two brothers, named John and
Samuel Jones : neither of whom was ever in membership
with Friends, but the latter had attended their meetings, and
was attached to their principles. The following affecting
circumstances will scarcely be denied to entitle them (par
ticularly the younger) to the name of Christian martyrs.
Samuel was of a meek and gentle spirit, and remarked
for the benevolence of his disposition. He had of late be
come increasingly serious, and expressed on different occa
sions an apprehension of being shortly taken away. The
two brothers were taken prisoners by the insurgents, con-
33*

390 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1798.
veyed to Scullabogue, and confined in a house close to a
barn, in which a few days afterwards, a large number of
their fellow-creatures, men, women, and children, were hor
ribly burnt to death. Upwards of two hundred were mas
sacred in this way, and by shooting them in the adjacent
lawn. John Jones, the elder brother, was now brought
into a close searching of heart, and found cause to lament
that in time past he had not sought after a preparation for
death ; but was encouraged by his brother to faithfulness.
Samuel's wife was permitted to accompany them to their
prison ; and on the morning of the day when the barn was
burnt, as they were reading the New Testament, she in
quired of one of the guards, the cause of the peculiar smell,
which she perceived, like burning animal matter. He
coolly told her, it was some beefsteaks preparing for break
fast! To a further inquiry, "What was meant by the
firing of guns ? " he replied, " that it was some criminals
they were shooting." About five minutes after this, the
three were taken from the prison into the lawn, and Sam
uel was required to turn to the Romish religion. He
replied, "Where shall I turn, but where my God is?"
And being urged to have his children undergo the cere
mony of water-baptism, he said, "My children are innocent ;
and I will leave them so." Some person now saying that
these prisoners " were Quakers," it was replied that if they
could make it appear that they were so, they should not be
put to death. But as they were neither of them really mem
bers, this could not be done. Some of them now took Sam
uel aside, and offered him his life on certain conditions ; but
finding these to conflict with his sense of religious duty, he
firmly rejected them; and when the "holy water," as they
termed it, was brought to them, he turned his back upon
it, in testimony against their bigotry.
He encouraged his brother John to faithfulness to the
last, fearing lest his steadfastness might give way ; and re-

1799.J THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 391
minded him of the words of our blessed Saviour; "Whoso
ever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before
my Father which is in heaven;" and "he that findeth his
life shall lose it ; and he that loseth his life for my sake,
shall find it." John was then shot by the insurgents.
Samuel desired his love to be given to certain Friends,
whom he named ; but the party endeavored to work upon
his feelings, by falsely asserting that they had already for
feited their lives at the camp. To this however he meekly
replied, "then they died innocent." He now took an af
fectionate leave of his wife, who with admirable fortitude
stood by him and held his hand, until he was shot by the
side of his brother. His last words were those with which
he had endeavored to encourage his brother, and which
now afforded inexpressible support to himself; "He that
loseth his life for My sake, shall find it."

CHAPTER XLIV.
THE SEPARATION IN IRELAND, IN 1799, ETC.
ALTHOUGH many were thus faithful in maintaining
their testimony to the peaceable nature of the Gos
pel, during a season of sore trial, yet there were at this
time in various parts of the nation, those under our name
who had imbibed more or less of a sceptical and self-right
eous spirit. These deluding themselves and others by false
pretensions to spirituality, and greater light on religious
subjects than their brethren in that or former ages, began
to promulgate many wild and unsound notions relative to
certain important doctrines of the Christian religion. In-

392 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1799.
flated by a fond conceit of their own attainments, and by
the presumptuous idea that they possessed the plenary in
spiration of the Spirit, and therefore needed not the fainter
light of external evidence, they boldly rejected a large por
tion of the sacred volume, renounced the epithet " Holy,"
as applied to the Scriptures, and set up in their stead the
wild vagaries of their own feverish imaginations. They
strenuously advocated the propriety of bringing every sub
ject to the test of reason ; and deciding on its credibility,
by its accordance with their ideas of what such a Being as
they chose to consider the Creator, ought to require of his
rational creatures. But while they were high in profession
of "rational belief," they adopted and openly professed
many absurd and extravagant notions.
Discontented and restless in themselves, and conscious
that they were professing to be what the Searcher of hearts
knew they were not, they seemed ready to catch at any
novelty, either in faith or practice, which promised to
make them conspicuous as reformers of the Society, or, by
occupying their attention, to divert them from a sense of
their own corruptions, and their great need of a change
of heart. Renouncing the faith of their fathers, and dis
daining the pure and simple doctrines of Christianity, they
struck out for themselves a new system ; a primary feature
of which was, a denial of the truths recorded in the Bible,
under the specious pretence, that the " light within," as
they irreverently termed what was nothing more than their
own fallen reason, or the workings of a morbid imagina
tion, had enabled them to see beyond all outward evidence.
Hence they rejected as untrue, the doctrine of the " eternal
power and godhead " of our Lord Jesus Christ, his pro
pitiatory sacrifice on the cross for the sins of mankind, his
mediation, and his intercession ; regarding him in no
higher point of view, than as a blessed example and holy
pattern. Indeed, with the confidence which they had

1799.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 393
in their own righteousness, it was impossible that they
should believe in a necessity of His atonement for their
sins. Not satisfied with the clear and sublime account
written by Moses, of the creation of the world, they de
clared it an allegory : they mysticized the description of
the garden of Eden into a mere metaphorical account cf
the human heart and its propensities, asserting that it was
never intended to be construed literally : and by the same
method they evaded the force of other parts of the Bible,
which.did not comport with their own notions.
Conceiving that no act connected with religion was ob
ligatory upon them without a special and immediate im
pulse of duty, they declined the salutary practice of ob
serving the First-day of the week as a day of rest and
religious exercises, pursued their usual avocations, and
refused to assemble at stated times for the purpose of
Divine worship ; only attending when they considered
themselves particularly moved thereto, which would some
times happen to be at the time the assembly were about
to separate.
Against the consistent members of the Society of Friends,
they inveighed with much acrimony and zeal, as formal,
traditional, and lapsed professors, resting in the command
ments of their fathers, and adding thereto the superstitions
and corruptions of other religious societies. The excellent
code of discipline which for many years had proved a
means of preservation and strength to the church, they
became dissatisfied with, wishing to remove all restraints,
and leave every man at liberty to "do that which was
right in his own eyes."
About this time, Hannah Barnard, of Hudson in the
state of New York, who occupied the station of a minister,
opened to her Monthly Meeting a desire to visit Great
Britain and Ireland. Friends of that place, though prob
ably in some degree influenced by affectionate feelings in

394 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1799
her behalf, yet appear to have felt unusual hesitation on
the subject ; the matter being referred to a committee, in
whose hands it remained about nine months, before they
could report in favor of granting the usual credentials.
They were however at length, partly by earnest appeals to
the affections of the young and inexperienced members, in
duced to set her at liberty, in the latter part of the Eighth
month, 1797, and she sailed for Europe.
Travelling in Ireland, her discourses public and private,
though artfully disguised for a time, were calculated to
foster this spirit of insubordination, and even eventually
of unbelief; and she was eagerly followed by those who
were already more or less under its influence.
At the next Yearly Meeting in Dublin, this sorrowful
subject claimed the serious attention of the body; which
directed the Monthly Meetings timely to labor in Christian
love and tenderness, for the restoration of these deluded
persons ; and where they could not be reclaimed, they were,
with the advice of the Quarterly Meetings, to be testified
against, as out of the unity of Friends. The Yearly Meet
ing also appointed a committee to visit the Quarterly,
Monthly, and other Meetings, to assist them with advice
and counsel in the trying circumstances under which many
of them were placed. The appointment of this committee
struck dismay into the ranks of the dissentients, as they saw
that it rendered their prospect of carrying their own meas
ures entirely hopeless.
David Sands, a valuable minister from the state of New
York, before mentioned, who had arrived in Great Britain
in 1795, had been drawn in the love of Christ to visit Ire
land ; and being led into very plain dealing among them,
in imparting the whole counsel of his Divine Master, he
became a principal mark for their enmity. Many of them
refused to acknowledge his ministry by uniting in the usual
orderly practice of standing up and taking off the hat,

1799.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 395
while he was engaged in meetings for worship in the solemn
act of addressing the Most High.
Richard Jordan also, of North Carolina, a fellow-laborer
in the same glorious gospel, was moved at that juncture to
visit the afflicted Society in Ireland ; and is believed to
have been eminently useful in strengthening the weak
hands of those who were faithfully opposing this spirit of
unbelief and disorder, and in confirming the feeble faith
of some, who were ready to falter under the plausible ap
pearances which were presented. He bore a solemn and
powerful testimony against the dangerous tendency of this
delusion ; he labored with undaunted zeal to expose its
fallacies ; he warned both young and old against suffering
themselves to be entangled therein ; and under the influ
ence of a prophetic spirit, he foretold the sorrowful conse
quences which these errors, if persisted in, would inevitably
produce. But notwithstanding the earnest labors of many deeply
concerned Friends, the leaders of this secession continued
their course, until many lost their membership in the So
ciety. In the province of Ulster, all the elders were dis
placed from their station ; and a considerable number of
ministers and elders in various parts were disowned from
membership. Hannah Barnard, notwithstanding the pri
vate labor which had been abundantly bestowed upon her,
at length so openly avowed her unbelief in the divinity
and atonement of the blessed Saviour, and the authenticity
of the Holy Scriptures, that on her leaving Ireland, in
the spring of 1800, she was called to account before the
Yearly Meeting of Ministers and Elders in London, for her
unsound doctrines, discouraged from continuing to travel
as a minister, and advised to return home.
The committee of the Yearly meeting of Dublin to visit
and aid the subordinate meetings, was reappointed each
year until 1802, when the painful duty of separating from

396 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF 1801.
the body those who persisted in adhesion to this heresy,
appeared to be nearly completed, and the Society clear
from responsibility for their errors. The hand of Divine
Providence seemed to be turned in an awful manner against
these deniers of the Divinity of the Lord Jesus ; so that
the predictions of Richard Jordan and others were re
markably verified. Some of them who had lived in afflu
ence, experienced a sad reverse in their condition ; many
not only lost their religious reputation, but even suffered
in their moral character, and became an astonishment
to their former acquaintances. Others, however, awak
ened by timely warning, abandoned their errors, and
through the mercy of a gracious Redeemer, came to ex
perience repentance and forgiveness; these embraced the
Christian religion in renewed faith and sincerity, and were
restored into the fellowship of the church.
Hannah Barnard, not complying with the admonitions
of the Yearly Meeting of Ministers and Elders in Lon
don, her case was brought into the Monthly Meeting of
Devonshire House in that city, which also, after exami
nation, advised her to return home. She was not willing
to take this advice, and finally appealed to the Yearly
Meeting in 1801 ; which, after a patient investigation of
the case, confirmed the advice of the Monthly Meeting.
On her return, her own Monthly Meeting being apprised
of her unsoundness, she was, after ineffectual attempts to
reclaim her, at length disowned by Friends, and sunk into
obscurity.

1802.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 897

CHAPTER XLV.
THOMAS SHILLITOE's EARLY LIFE AND CONVINCEMENT —
HIS REMARKABLE GOSPEL LABORS IN IRELAND, ETC.
ONE of the most remarkable men who joined the Society
in modern days, was Thomas Shillitoe. He was born
in London, in the year 1754, and educated according to the
views of the Episcopal society, of which his parents were
zealous members. From about the twelfth year of his age,
he was exposed to many temptations. His father taking
charge of a large tavern at Islington, in the suburbs of
that great city, Thomas, whose disposition was naturally
volatile, was exposed to the contamination of evil exam
ples in almost every kind of vice. He was afterwards
placed as apprentice with a person much given to liquor
and unprofitable company ; so that his situation continued
to be one of great danger. But, though thus exposed,
adorable mercy awakened in his mind a degree of serious
thoughtfulness, which no doubt preserved him from many
gross evils. Growing up towards manhood, he occasion
ally attended the meetings of Friends with a young rela
tive ; but this was not from a pure motive, and did not ap
pear to be productive at that time of much effect on his
mind. He generally spent the afternoon of the First-day
of the week in idleness and rambling about for pleasure,
giving greater latitude than ever to his natural inclina
tions. But the retrospect of this, in times of serious reflec
tion, was not productive of that comfort which he had once
known, when this day of the week had been differently
occupied. He was, however, mercifully again visited by
the reproofs of the Holy Spirit, and his attention arrested,
34

398 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1772.
to consider the misery into which the road he was now
travelling must eventually lead him, if he continued to
pursue it. He found he must now attend meetings for
worship from a sense of religious obligation, and that too
both morning and afternoon ; and as he faithfully gave up
to this duty, his desires increased after an acquaintance
with the Almighty, and a knowledge of His law. Earnest
were his prayers, that in this day of the Lord's powerful
visitation, in mercy renewed to his soul, the Father of all
grace would not leave him to become a prey to his soul's
enemy — that His hand would not spare, nor his eye pity,
until an entire willingness was brought about in him, to
cast himself down at the Lord's holy footstool. As resig
nation was thus produced in him, to yield to the purifying
operation of the Holy Ghost and fire, that the fan of God's
Word and power should separate between the precious and
the vile, corresponding fruits were brought forth, and mani
fested in his outward conduct.
His father showed great displeasure at his attending the
meetings of Friends, and endeavored to dissuade him
therefrom, representing the Society in as unfavorable and
ridiculous a point of view as he could ; but without effect.
Thomas soon felt that it would be right for him to use the
pure language of thou and thee, instead of you, to a single
person, and to refuse to conform to the vain compliments
of the world. During the mental exercises which he passed
through on this account, he fell under much discourage
ment ; especially when his father told him that he must
quit his paternal abode, and go among those with whom he
had associated in religious profession. But in this season
of close trial, he was not deserted by Him who cares even
for the sparrows. A situation was procured for him as
clerk in a banking-house. Here he entertained a hope of
being out of the way of much temptation ; but alas ! he
soon found his mistake; and that no situation was safe,

1775.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 399
without maintaining the daily, unremitted watch. Very
few of his new companions were acquainted with that in
ward work of religion which he so greatly desired, many
of them being much given up to the world and its delusive
pleasures. For want of keeping steadily on the watch, he
had nearly made shipwreck of faith. But the mercy of
God snatched him again as a brand out of the burning.
and pointed out to him the need of increasing circum
spection. The business of his employers required him at times to
purchase lottery tickets for country correspondents, and to
attend to some other matters which he felt a scruple
against ; and this brought him under fresh trial, desiring
to retain a situation in which he was making a respectable
livelihood, and yet not feeling easy to continue in the prac
tice of that which was manifested to him to be wrong.
But submissively seeking divine direction, he was enabled
clearly to see that he must settle down to that manner of
obtaining his livelihood, which Truth would point out to
him. And crying unto the Lord, in earnest prayer, that
He would be pleased to direct him, the Most High in
mercy heard his cries, and answered his supplications,
pointing out to him the humble business of a shoemaker,
as the means by which he should hereafter gain a living
more consistently with his religious scruples. This intima
tion at first involved him in great distress of mind ; partly
from the fear lest he should not soon be able to earn
enough to supply himself with what was necessary for his
sustenance, as he had saved but little from his present
salary. But leaving his employers, he engaged with a
person to teach him the business, and trusted to the Lord
for preservation. Great were the trials to which for a
time he was subjected ; his little stock of money wasted
fast; and his earnings over what he had to pay his in
structor, were so very small as not to allow him for the

400 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1778.
first twelve months, more than bread, cheese, and water,
and sometimes bread only, to keep clear of debt ; and this
he carefully avoided.
After he had acquired sufficient knowledge of the busi
ness, he commenced on his own account, with a capital of
a few shillings. His prospects brightened; his business
prospered ; and in 1778 he entered into the married state,
under the sanction and guidance, as he believed, of Him
who had thus far mercifully cared for him.
For some time his mind had been exercised with a be
lief, that if he continued faithful to divine requirings, a
gift in the ministry of the gospel would be committed to
his charge. Earnest were his secret cries for the Lord's
preservation, under the prospect of this awful work — to
be kept, on the one hand, from running before he was sent,
and on the other, from overstaying the right time, when the
command should be distinctly heard, " Go forth."
About the 24th year of his age, he first opened his mouth
as a minister of the gospel, and was favored with great
peace for this act of dedication. But he soon found, to
his sorrow, that Satan can transform himself into an angel
of light ; and when he cannot effect his evil purpose, by
causing us to lag behind, he will then strive to hurry us on
before our good Guide, and thus in one way or the other
endeavor to mar the Lord's work. From this snare, how
ever, he was favored to recover himself; and as he humbly
followed the puttings forth of the heavenly finger, looking
neither to the right hand nor to the left, he grew in his
gift, and increased in understanding of the things of God ;
and for many years was employed by his divine Master, in
strengthening and confirming the churches, in various
places, at a distance from his own abode.
Before undertaking some of these religious engagements,
he was at times much discouraged, from fears lest his out
ward concerns should suffer during his absence ; as he had

1793.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 401
no experienced person under whose superintendence to
leave them. On one occasion these discouragements were
presented, if possible, with double force ; but as he yielded
to the influence of divine help, the power of the Almighty
was mercifully manifested, his mind was tendered under
its influence, and he heard in the secret of his soul, intelli
gibly addressed to his mental ear, the following language :
" I will be more than bolts and bars to thy outward habi
tation — more than a master to thy servants — more than a
husband to thy wife, and a parent to thy infant children."
Thus was his faith confirmed ; he no longer dared to hesi
tate, but proceeded on his Master's mission ; and on return
ing home, he found his outward concerns in as good order
as if he had himself had the management of them during
the interim.
In the year 1793, he apprehended it to be his duty to
pay a religious visit to King George the Third. The inter
view proved satisfactory, and that which he communicated,
appeared to be well received. The king stood in a solid
manner during its delivery, and was so much affected that
the tears trickled down his cheeks.
About the year 1805, having been so far favored with
success in trade, as to have saved an income of about one
hundred pounds a year, he was not easy to go on accumu
lating ; but under a sense of duty, relinquished his busi
ness, and devoted himself more fully to the work to which
he had been called of God, for the benefit of his fellow-
men. He often felt himself constrained to address those
in power, on the great prevalence of vice and irreligion
among the people ; and some of .these addresses were very
close and striking. It also pleased his Divine Master to lay
upon him the duty of visiting the most depraved and aban
doned of the human family, and of warning and pleading
with those who were either encouraging or conniving at
their evil practices.
34*

402 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1808.
In his travels, especially in Ireland, he beheld with sorrow
the great number of places where ardent spirits were sold, the
crowds of persons who frequented them, and the degrading
and brutalizing effects produced by this pernicious article,
particularly on the lower classes ; subverting every thing
like a sense of religion, destroying the physical and mental
powers, and involving its victims in squalid wretchedness
and poverty. He had not long witnessed the misery pro
duced by these drinking-houses, before he felt constrained
to visit the keepers of them in certain parts, and to plead
personally with them and their visitors against their evil
practices ; notwithstanding the prospect, at times realized,
of meeting with insult and abuse.
The first visit of this kind was in the town of Waterford,
in company with Elizabeth Ridgway, a Friend who had a
similar religious concern. Their service was not confined
to the keepers of the houses, but frequently extended to
the company sitting in them to drink; who mostly behaved
respectfully, and heard quietly what they had to offer.
Yet they met with a few instances of the contrary, and
some of the remarks made, as well as the crowd that fol
lowed them from house to house, were very humiliating.
But as they endeavored to keep near in spirit to their
Holy Helper, they were strengthened in an admirable man
ner, to go through the service, and to deliver " all the
counsel of God" among those dark spirits, settled down ap
parently in gross superstition and ignorance. Even among
these, they often found a door of entrance for the gospel
message, and returned home at length, with hearts truly
contrited, under a fresh sense that all things are possible
with the Most High.
Soon afterwards he felt it his duty to visit the drinking-
houses at Carrick-on-Suir, and Ross, in company with the
same female friend. On entering Carrick, they became
the subjects of much remark. They generally found both

1810.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 403
houses and hearts open to receive them and what they had
to communicate. They were followed from house to house
by crowds of people. Thomas's account states, that " al
though the houses would be so filled, that there did not ap
pear to be room for another to squeeze in, yet quietness
soon prevailed, and was in a remarkable manner preserved,
especially whilst we were engaged in delivering our mes
sage. Truly we may say this was the Lord's doing ; and
that we were able to attain to any quiet in ourselves is
marvellous in our eyes. By endeavoring to keep in the pa
tience, and to have our minds clothed with that love which
would have all gathered, taking quietly such insults as
were offered, and any opposition to what we had to com
municate, the veil of prejudice would generally give way :
love would beget love, and make way for free and open
communication." " Sometimes, on entering a house, we
found persons in a state of intoxication. Their compan
ions, aware of our errand, boasted they would have liquor,
calling out for large quantities. But on our appearing not
to notice them, but to take our seats quietly amongst them,
others would take pains to keep them still, and in time, all
has been hushed into silence, as much so as I have known
in our own meetings."
In 1810, he again felt it his duty to visit Ireland. Soon
after arriving there, he engaged in visiting the drinking-
houses at Clonmel and several other towns. A few ex
tracts from his own account of these visits, will furnish
some idea of their trying character, as well as of the mar
vellous manner in which he was helped to perform them.
In speaking of the visit at Clonmel, he says : " My com
panion used often to say, it seemed as if the Good Master
went into the houses before us to prepare the way. Such
were the feelings of solemnity we met with on entering the
houses, and when sitting with the keepers of them, and
their customers, that at times it seemed much like paying
a family visit among Friends.

404 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1810,
" At Callen, the crowd that gathered around us was very
interrupting, and they behaved in an uncivilized manner ;
yet my mind was preserved quiet, feeling the necessity of
letting them see that my dependence was placed on the
Supreme All-powerful Preserver of the universe." In
some of the towns, whose inhabitants were principally
Papists, bigotry and superstition prevailed to a very great
extent ; and the priests had endeavored to prejudice the
people against them. After concluding the visits to the
drinking-houses, it was his practice to visit either the mag-.
istrates, or the bishops and priests ; and sometimes he did
not feel clear until he had faithfully spoken to all.
The following account of one of these interviews, will
furnish an example of the uncompromising manner in
which he spoke what he believed was required of him.
" On our arrival at the house, we were ordered up stairs,
where the bishop received us with great civility, ushered
us into a room, brought me a chair, placing it opposite to
a sofa, on which he took his seat. My companions taking
seats also, we dropped into silence ; which I broke by say
ing, a visit had been paid to the drinking-houses in Kil
kenny, which I supposed he had been acquainted with : to
which he replied, ' Well.' I observed, that in performing
this visit, my fears, and the various reports I had heard,
were fully confirmed ; that the ' laity ' profess to believe the
'clergy' have full power to forgive their sins; adding, the
people may be so deceived as to believe the priest has this
power, but I did not believe it possible the ' clergy ' could
believe it themselves. And therefore, as their superior, to
whom the people were taught to look up for counsel, I de
sired he would look to the Almighty for help, and, as he
valued his own precious soul, as ability was afforded him,
endeavor to turn the minds of the people from man unto
God and Christ Jesus, who only can forgive sins: otherwise
he would incur a load of condemnation too heavy for him

1810.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 405
to bear in the great day of account, when the deceiver and
the deceived would be all one in the sight of God, whether
actively or passively deceiving the people. That at times,
when considering the subject, it was my belief that if the
Almighty had one vial of wrath more powerful than an
other, it would be poured out upon those who thus deceived
the people. Here I closed for the present. He manifested
great confusion, shutting his eyes, as not being able to look
me in the face. A pause ensued. After a while, he began
by saying, it was very indecorous and unchristian in me to
come to his house, a stranger to him, and from another
land, and address him in such a manner ; charging him, a
man of so much experience in the church of God, with be
ing a deceiver ; saying, surely I must be mistaken. I told
him, it was in love to his soul, and under an apprehension
of religious duty. He called upon me to produce my au
thority for my mission. I told him, my authority was in
my own breast. I queried with him: 'Are not the people
thus deceived? Do they not believe the 'clergy' have
power to forgive their sins ? Art thou endeavoring to un
deceive them? For the 'clergy' cannot be so deceived as
to believe this power is vested in them' — exhorting him to
be willing to co-operate with that Divine help, which, if
rightly sought after by him, would be extended ; whereby
ability would be received to undeceive the people ; again
reminding him, that the deceiver and deceived were all one
in the sight of God ; and that it continued my firm belief,
if the Almighty had one vial of His wrath more powerful
than another, it would be poured out on those who thus de
ceived the people, whether actively or passively engaged
therein. He said he believed I meant well, and that he
commended my principles, but he could not say he thanked
me for my visit. I expected at times he would turn me
out of the room. We rose from our seats to take our
leave ; when the bishop clasped my hand, and holding it,

406 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1811.
paused, saying, ' I believe I may say, I feel thankful for it'
(the visit). Requesting us to take some refreshments, he
kindly conducted us to the stairs again, and we parted,
never more to meet on this side of eternity."
In the year 1811, Thomas Shillitoe was again engaged,
still more extensively, in visiting the drinking-houses in
some of those cities and towns in Ireland, which had before
been omitted. In these, as at other times, he was con
cerned, not only to set before them the evil consequences
of taking strong drink, but also to point out to them the
sure way of life and salvation ; with the absolute need
there was of ceasing from all dependence on man, and of
depending simply on the Lord alone for salvation. Many
insults and reproaches were offered to him ; but having an
evidence in his own mind, that he was fulfilling a duty laid
upon him by his Divine Master, he was carried through
them all. He had indeed frequently the satisfaction of be
lieving that the opportunities were signally owned ; great
seriousness and solemnity being obviously produced in
minds often qf the most abandoned persons.
A description of one of the six hundred visits he paid
to the drinking-houses in the city of Dublin, will show the
humiliating nature ofthe service, and the manner in which
he was enabled to warn and exhort those whom he met
with in those sinks of dissipation and vice. He says :
" We proceeded to Barrack-street. The first house we en
tered made a deplorable appearance. It was very early in
the morning ; yet we found, on descending the steps into
the drinking-room, which resembled a cellar, the window-
frames and glass broken, and several young women, without
shoes, stockings, or caps, dancing to the fiddle. We made
towards the room set apart for the keepers of the house ;
where we met with the mistress. Requesting, if she had a
husband, to have his company, he soon made his appear
ance. I endeavored to lay before them what arose, although

1811.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 407
I found it difficult to get fairly relieved. The fiddle, and
at times the screaming of the dancers, was a great interrup
tion. The man remained quiet for a short time, and then
left us, the woman appearing to have the management of
the house. What I had to say brought her to tears. On
inquiry, I found she had children ; I therefore requested
her seriously to consider what would be her conclusion re
specting the conduct of any person who should harbor her
children, and suffer them to go on in such wicked practices
as she was now encouraging the young girls in under her
roof, who might be without parents or friends to take
charge of them ; saying, I did not wish for a hasty reply.
She confessed she should think they acted a cruel part. I
therefore entreated her to attend to that Divine Monitor in
her own breast, which she confessed she at times witnessed
to be near ; which would clearly make known to her the
necessity to rid her house of such company as she now har
bored ; which would be one way whereby she might hope
for the Divine blessing on honest endeavors for the support
of herself and family ; otherwise she must look for a blast
following them every way. She continued tender, and at
our parting, in a feeling manner expressed her desire, that
what had been communicated might be profitably remem
bered by her. After receiving her warm expressions of
gratitude, we proceeded to leave the house ; but on reach
ing the step of the entrance, my attention was again ar
rested, and I found I must be willing to return into the
apartment where the dancing was going forward, and qui
etly submit to any insults that might be the result of my
being found in the way of my duty. On my companion
being informed hereof, he appeared tried as well as myself;
but I found it would not bring peace to our minds to hesi
tate. We therefore turned back ; which the woman of the
house observing, came and stood by us, I supposed to pre
vent any rude behavior that might be offered. I requested

408 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF [1811.
the man who had the fiddle to cease playing and take his
seat ; which he complied with ; and those who were dancing
to do the like, which each one yielded to. The scene ex
hibited in different parts of this large room, if it were pos
sible fully to describe, would produce a picture of as great
human depravity and misery, as well can be conceived. On
a bench near us lay young girls, overcome with their night's
revelling and drunkenness, past being roused by anything
that occurred around them ; others, from the same causes,
reclining on the tables, barely able to raise their heads and
open their eyes, and altogether incapable of comprehending
what was going forward. Companies of men and women, in
boxes, were in other parts of the room drinking. Strength
was received to utter what was given me ; and after I had
been some time engaged in addressing this band of human
misery, I think I shall not, whilst favored with mental
powers, wholly lose sight of the distress and horror portrayed
in the countenances of those young women who had ceased
their dancing. Feeling my mind relieved, and being about
to depart, such of the company as were equal to it, arose
from their seats, acknowledging their gratitude for the
labor that had been extended, and their desire that what
had been said might not be lost upon them, and that a
blessing might attend us. My back was towards the door,
and not hearing a footstep of those who came in while we
were engaged, when we turned to go out, I was surprised
at the addition made to our company. My companion re
marked, that it appeared as if something brought an awe
over their minds on entering, and they quietly took their
seats, and when the seats were full, others sat on the
ground." At the conclusion of these labors, he felt it required of
him to visit the mayor, sheriff, and police magistrates, as
well as the Romish and Protestant bishops, endeavoring to
lay before the Romish bishop in particular, the great re-

1812.] THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 409
sponsibility that rested on him, from the implicit depend
ence which the people placed on the priesthood, and the
sorrowful account those will have to give in a future day,
who are encouraging the people in this reliance on them
selves, instead of turning their attention to Christ within,
the hope of glory.
In 1812, Thomas believed it required of him to unite
with a female minister, in paying a religious visit to an
organized company of desperate characters, who for nearly
fifty years had infested the neighborhood of Kingswood, in
England ; who lived by plundering, robbing, horse-stealing,
and other evil practices ; and were so great a terror to the
neighborhood, that it was considered dangerous to travel
on the roads infested by them. In the prosecution of this
trying service, which extended not only to "the Gang," as
these robbers were called, but also to the families of miners
and colliers living in that section of country, Thomas
and his companion were often obliged to travel by night ;
but they were mercifully raised above apprehensions of
danger, through faith in the protecting care of Him, who,
they believed, had called them forth. They were favored
from time to time, with memorable evidences of the suffi
ciency of His almighty power to subdue the strong wills,
and soften the hard hearts of wicked men. While plead
ing with these abandoned characters respecting their evil
practices, they were often made sensible that the Divine
Witness in their hearts was reached; their hearers ac
knowledged the truth of what they had to say, and ex
pressed their obligations for the counsel given.
35

410 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF

CONCLUSION.
"iyrO attempt has been made to embody the whole history
-Li of the Society of Friends in these few pages. Many
volumes would be requisite to describe even a small por
tion of the gracious dealings of the Lord with his depend
ent children, and the wonderful instances of divine support
vouchsafed to them in the hour of need. But in the view
which we have briefly taken of the principal events char
acterizing the rise and progress of this people, the reader
may have observed, that though exceedingly various were
the natural dispositions and conditions of the individuals
successively brought into the service of the Truth, yet the
work of the Holy Spirit has been one and the same. In
every instance, the operation of divine grace has been ac
companied by a great abasement of self, a deep sense of
the fallen and corrupt state of man, and a looking to the
Lord alone for help and strength to overcome the evil
propensities of the unregenerate nature. There has been
a conviction that no half work would be accepted, but that
the whole heart was to be cleansed and renewed, and the
whole mind and will made submissive to the manifestations
of the light q£ Christ Jesus in the soul.
We have seen the faithfulness of many of these servants
of the Lord, and observed that their devoted lives fur
nished conclusive evidence that they knew and felt the
force of the apostolic precept: "Ye are not your own, for
ye are bought with a price ; therefore glorify God in your
bodies and in your spirits, which are God's." We have
also remarked the marvellous manner in which they were
preserved and supported in the hour of trial, and the fu
tility of all attempts to suppress the growth of the plant of
the Lord's planting, by the most severe and sanguinary

THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. 411
persecution. We have likewise, on the other hand, had
sorrowful evidence that this Society has not been without
its troubles from false brethren, by whom, under various
specious disguises, the great enemy of Truth has striven to
divide and scatter the flock.
In this day of outward ease, that cunning adversary has
changed his mode of attack ; the spirit of the world, in its
various transformations, is now the chief snare laid for the
feet of the unwary ; and many have fallen a prey to its
entanglements. But it is surely not arrogating too much,
to encourage the belief that the same Hand which brought
this vine out of Egypt and planted it, will still watch over
His own seed, will water it with the dew of heaven, and
preserve its fruits to his own praise.
It ought to be borne in mind, that the enlightened men
and women who were employed of the Lord in gathering
our religious Society in the beginning, were fully persuaded
that they were not collecting together a mere sect or divis
ion of the Christian church ; but that the principles which
they advocated, being no other than those of ancient pure
Christianity, were designed by the Almighty, in a time to
come, to extend over the whole earth. This was unques
tionably their belief, and this belief animated them
through all discouragements, to press forward in their
endeavors to spread the glorious gospel in its own sim
plicity and purity. Several of the testimonies held forth
by ancient Friends, have since their day found a remark
able place in the estimation of serious individuals of vari
ous names ; and it remains to be seen, whether the faithful
ness of a future generation shall not be made use of in the
divine Hand, to spread the knowledge of the truth over the
lands as the waters cover the sea.
Should this be happily the case through the medium of
this highly favored people, it is scarcely needful to say,
that it must be by an uncompromising adherence to the

412 HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF FRIENDS.
ancient principles of the church, and a practical exemplifi
cation of their efficacy, in life and conduct. Divine truth
is the same in the present day, as it was when the apostles
went forth in the power of the Spirit of their Divine Mas
ter ; and as it was when George Fox and his fellow-labor
ers, in a measure of the same spirit, boldly testified against
spiritual wickedness in high places. And the same neces
sity exists, as ever did, for the faithful maintenance of
their testimony to pure and spiritual religion, in the face
of a world lying in wickedness, or lulled in the lap of error,
disguised under the plausible appearance of truth.
Let then the inheritors of these precious principles ex
amine well their position, and see that they fall not back
from that holy vocation wherewith their fathers were
called. Let them not desire to dwell in their ceiled
houses, while the house of God lies waste : but with holy
magnanimity and true devotedness of heart, and in the pure
Christian zeal of the Lord's own begetting, individually
seek to know their calling, and therein abide.

THE END.

NOTICE TO THE READER.
The author, in preparing this work for a second
edition, has believed it best to close the volume with
the beginning of the present century; leaving to the
pen of future history the delineation of the important
events connected with the two great manifestations of
defection from the faith of our forefathers, which have
occurred in our own day. (413)

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