Annals of the early Friends : a series of biographical sketches

914 BUDGE (F. A.) Annals of the Early
Friends, cr. 8vo, cloth, 1 /6. 1891

ANNALS OF THE EARLY FRIENDS.

ANNALS Lmay»uw

EARLY FRIENDS

Series of ^SiogrctpfncctC JiRefc^es.

FRANCES ANN BUDGE.

[Reprinted from the Friends' Quarterly Examiner.]
With Preface by EDWARD BACKHOUSE.

" WE ARE NOTHING, CHRIST IS ALL."— George Fox.

second EDITION.

London :

EDWARD HICKS, Jun., 14, BISHOPSGATE WITHOUT.
1891.

Digitized by

the Internet Archive

in 2015

https://archive.org/details/annalsofearlyfriOObudg

CONTENTS.

PAGE

William Caton - 1

John Audland and his Friends 29

Edward Borrodgh - - 55

Elizabeth Stirredge - 75

William Dewsbury ; and his words of Counsel and

Consolation 97

John Crook Ill

Stephen Crisp and his Sermons 129

John Banks - 147

Humphry Smith and his Works ----- 169

Mary Fisher and her Friends- ----- 197

The Martyrs of Boston and their Friends - - - 221

Passages in the Life of John Gratton - - - - 25

James Dickenson and his Friends ----- 267

William Edmundson 303

William Ellis and his Friends 335

Richard Claridge and his Friends ----- 367

Thomas Story 393

Gilbert Latey and his Friends ----- 423

George Whitehead 451

PREFACE.

The Memoirs and Sketches of the lives of Friends
of the Seventeenth Century, which have, from time to
time, appeared in the pages of the Friends' Quarterly
Examiner are, in this volume, presented as a whole, in the
hope of thus obtaining for them a more extended circu-
lation. They contain an account of the religious prin-
ciples of the Early Friends, as well as narratives of the
sufferings they underwent in maintaining the testimo-
nies committed to them by the Lord Jesus Christ ; and
it is hoped that their example may influence us, their
successors, with boldness to maintain the Truth as it is
in Jesus, and keep unfurled before the Churches the
same holy banner that He has given to us also, " to be
displayed because of the Truth."

As a contribution towards the modern literature of
the Society of Friends, these memoirs are designed to
revive the memory of those who were valiants in their
day ; and to inform such as may not be conversant
with the history of Friends two centuries ago ; for they
remind us of the costly price our forefathers paid — in
blood, in loss of liberty, and of this world's treasure — to
procure for us the religious freedom we enjoy*

* For more complete details of the foundation and progress of the
Society of Friends we would refer to William Sewel's History,
which is doubtless to be found in most of the libraries attached to
our meeting-houses ; to George Fox's Journal ; Besse's " Sufferings
of Friends," &c.

vi

PREFACE.

Many are little aware of the faith, patience, and
intrepidity, with which the Friends of the first genera-
tion not only endured insults and injuries, but perse-
vered in their Christian course triumphing over every
difficulty, notwithstanding the virulence with which the
opponents of vital religion persecuted them, in many
cases even unto death. From the year 1662 to 1697
(inclusive) — namely in the reigns of Charles II., James
II., and William and Mary — John Field informs ua
that thirteen thousand five hundred and sixty-two
Friends suffered imprisonment in England ; while if we
add the persecutions of the Commonwealth, under
Oliver and Eichard Cromwell, and of New England and
those of Ireland and Scotland, from 1650 to 1697, we
find the aggregate of these sufferers for conscience' sake
numbers more than twenty-three thousands : and that
the total of those who died in gaol, or were executed, is
three hundred and eighty-eight.

The volumes published by Joseph Besse containing
the account of the " Sufferings of Friends," show the
terrible trials they underwent in those days ; when,
locked out of their meeting-houses, or their meeting-
houses having been destroyed and razed to the ground,
Friends held their assemblies for worship in the streets,
or upon the ruins, notwithstanding the furious attacks
of the soldiery, who broke their swords and muskets
upon their heads, sometimes leaving fifty on the street
most shamefully wounded and streaming with blood.
Four were hanged in New England by the bigoted
professors of religion there : one was squeezed for hours
in a torture-hole in the rock in Chester Gaol, called
" Little Ease," in consequence of which he died ; while

PREFACE.

vii

let it not be forgotten that many honourable and
educated women (among them Elizabeth Horton, the
first Quaker minister of her sex), were stripped naked
to the waist, by order of Governor Endicott and the
Council of Massachusetts, and mercilessly flogged
through three towns in succession. Endicott and his
fellows raged against the life of religion manifested by
the Friends ; though they only came into their juris-
diction to preach the Gospel, and specially to demand
the repeal of their unrighteous laws, which made it
penal for a Friend to enter the Colony. For this four
Friends suffered death ; for the Governor and Court of
Assistants at Boston, who professed to have left Old
England for the sake of liberty to worship according
to their consciences, " knew not what spirit they
were of."

Thus our forefathers bought the Truth ; and, having
bought it, sold it not : for amid all their afflictions, they
held that nothing in the whole world could compare
with the glorious inheritance they had obtained. That
inheritance was a heavenly one ; even the kingdom of
heaven, into which they had entered ; and they valued
its holiness and rest beyond the price of rubies or gold,
or the treasures of this world, or liberty, or life itself.

Well might they prefer the heavenly country of which
they had even upon earth become citizens to anything the
world could offer. William Dewsbury testifies to his
own experience, and says, " My garments are washed
and made white in the blood of the Lamb, who hath
led me through the gates . . . into the New Jerusalem
. . . where my soul now feeds upon the Tree of Life
. . . that stands in the Paradise of God." Again and

viii

PREFACE.

again the Early Friends record their faith in the cleans-
ing blood of the Lord Jesns, and their own blessed
experience of its power; testifying that Christ had
become their personal Saviour from the power of sin,
and that eternal life was theirs. " Yea," says Francis
Howgill, " I am entered into the true rest, and lie down
■with the lambs in the fold of God, where all the sons [of
God] do shout for joy, and all His saints keep holyday."

Their exalted views as to the perfection of Chris-
tianity (bringing full salvation to every one that will
receive it) caused them to express themselves in glowing
language worthy of the theme they dwelt upon ; but
not more so than the glory of the Gospel of Christ
manifested to His saints deserves. George Fox in his
Journal says, "Now was I come up in spirit through
the flaming sword, into the Paradise of Crod ; all things
were [become] new . . . being renewed into the image
of God by Christ Jesus."

Ann Dewsbury, too, near her close, could say, " I
have no guilt upon my spirit. In the covenant of light
and life, sealed with the blood of Jesus, I am at eternal
peace with the Lord." Stephen Hubbersty — encouraging
Friends at a time when they were undergoing deep
suffering from the violence of persecution — says, " It
is the enjoyment of the sweet presence of God will
encourage you to stand ; ... for we are come, blessed
be God ! to the primitive Spirit, the Spirit of Christ
which was in the primitive worshippers. . . . The Lord
arm you with patience and boldness ; and let all these
things drive you nearer and nearer to your Beloved.
The Lord sanctify you to Himself, that you may be like
the Holy Apostles, who, when charged to speak no

PREFACE.

ix

more in Christ's name, would not obey, but chose rather
to obey God. Let this be your choice : and ages and

generations to come will bless God for you The

Wonderful Counsellor preserve you single-hearted, and
keep you over all. storms : a calm will come again ; and
the joy of the Lord, which is as the joy of harvest, fill
your souls with joy and peace in believing."

John Audland desires that Friends " may be grounded
rooted, builded, established ; and in the everlasting
covenant of life, find peace ; where you may rest in
the City of God, whose walls are salvation, and whose
gates, praise." Ambrose Rigge, also, after ten years'
incarceration in Horsham Gaol, could say, " I have been
made both able and willing to bear all, for the testimony
of Jesus and the word of God ; not counting my life
dear unto me, that I might finish my testimony with
joy ; being counted worthy not only to believe, but also
to suffer for that ancient doctrine, faith, and practice,
for which the ancient Christians suffered the loss of
their liberties, and, many of them, of their lives."

Their expositions of Scripture truth, and their appli-
cation of the types and figures to their own experience,
as well as to that of the Church, are also extremely
interesting. They frequently quote from the Book of
Revelation (as well as from all parts of the Old and
New Testaments) ; but, as regards the Apocalypse,
George Fox observes, that too many religious people
view it as a sealed book ; whereas it contains very
precious truths, and vividly sets forth many things
which it is most important for us to appreciate. He
tell us respecting the New Jerusalem, " I saw the

X

PREFACE.

beauty and glory of it, the length, the breadth, and the
height thereof, all in complete proportion. I saw that
all who are within . . . the grace and truth and power
of God, which are the walls of the City, are within the
City, . . and have right to eat of the Tree of Life, which
yields her fruit every month, and whose leaves are for
the healing of the nations." This cannot be gainsaid ;
because the New Jerusalem, we are told by the Apostle
in describing his vision of it, is " the Bride, the Lamb's
wife ; " that is to say, is the Church of the Redeemed ;
which Church is one, whether on earth or in heaven.
Thus George Fox held that all converted persons who
attend to and dwell within the limitations of the grace
and truth of God, and live in the power of the Holy
Ghost, are in the Church, and belong to the family and
household of God while here below.

Would that we (who are the successors of the Early
Friends) might understand from living experience, as
they did, the blessedness of being at rest in the kingdom
of heaven : and, like them, know for ourselves that
Paradise is regained. Our first parents were driven out
of Eden (after they had sinned) lest they should put
forth their hands, " and take also of the Tree of Life, and
eat, and live for ever." We also, if born again, are
entered into the Paradise of God : and like the Early
Friends may eat of the glorious Tree of Life ; for the
Tree of Life is Christ.

They entered into rest : we too may enjoy the rest of
the everlasting Sabbath, of which the Jewish Sabbath
was but a symbol. This is the true rest ; and whether
on earth or in heaven it is one. The saints on earth

PREFACE.

xi

and the saints in heaven, are at rest in Christ ; and
drink of the River of the Water of Life ; which glorious
River is the one Holy Spirit, into which all the redeemed
of the Lord drink.

We think there is a blessed future for the Society of
Friends : if only our souls were possessed of a holy
ambition to do the will of God on earth, as it is done
in heaven : and to work in the Lord's vineyard. That
was the ambition which possessed the whole soul of
the Early Friends. Edward Borrough was " a son of
thunder and consolation," who (to his friend, Francis
Howgill's knowledge) " scarcely spent one week to him-
self in ten years ; " while Ames and Caton, and a host
of others, would gladly have spread the " Gospel net "
over all. Such was the zeal which clothed their spirits,
that they were men " who married as though they
married not, and possessed as though they possessed
not." They stood in dominion over the world, the flesh,
and the Devil. The language of William Dewsbury
is, " I can never forget the day of His [the Lord's]
power, and blessed appearance, when He first sent me
to preach His everlasting Gospel. . . . for this I can
say, I never since played the coward, but joyfully
entered prisons as palaces, telling mine enemies to hold
me there as long as they could : and in the Prison
House I sang praises to my God, and esteemed the
bolts and locks put upon me as jewels ! . . . And this
I have further to signify, that my departure draweth
nigh : blessed be my God, I am prepared, I have
nothing to do but to die, and put off this mortal taber-
nacle, this flesh that has so many infirmities ; but the

xii

PREFACE.

life that dwells in it transcends above all ; out of the
reach of death, hell, and the grave ; and immortality,
eternal life, is my crown for ever and ever. Therefore
you that are left behind, fear not, nor be discouraged,
but go on in the name and power of the Lord, and
bear a faithful and living testimony for Him in your
day ; and the Lord will prosper His work in your hand
and cause His Truth to flourish and spread abroad, for
it shall have the victory. No weapon formed against
it shall prosper ; the Lord hath determined it shall
possess the gates of its enemies, and the glory and the
light thereof shall shine, more and more, until the per-
fect day.

Would that we, the successors of these " Valiants
for the Truth," may do our parts towards the fulfilment
of William Dewsbury's prophecy !

Edward Backhouse.

Sunderland.

WILLIAJVI CATOJN.

B

" Faith is the one condition on which the Divine power can enter
into man and work through him. It is the susceptibility of the
unseen ; man's will yielded up to, and moulded by, the will of God.
. . . ' Because of your unbelief ' was, for all time, the Master's
explanation and reproof of impotence and failure in His Church."

"The School op Prayer," by Andrew Murray.

Bnnals of the )£arl£ tfrienos.

WILLIAM CATON.

" I know that no visible created thing can satisfy that which
longeth to be refreshed with the living streams which issue out from
the fountain which watereth and refresheth the whole city of God.
. . . A living fountain hath the Lord set open for Judah and
Jerusalem ; and all that are bathed and washed in it come to enter
into the holy city." — W. Catox.

It was on a winter day, early in 1652, that unex-
pectedly, and for the first time, George Fox arrived
at Swarthmoor Hall, near Ulverston, the beautifully
situated residence of Judge Fell, who was then absent
on his circuit. This visit proved a very eventful one
to not a few of the members of that large house-
hold.

William Caton was then in his sixteenth year, and
had for some time resided at the Hall, sharing the
educational advantages of the Judge's only son, who
was taught by a clergyman, a relative of the Catons ;
he soon became a favourite of the whole family, so
that difference in social position was lost sight of.
He shared George Fell's chamber, and was his com-
panion in field-sports and fishing, as well as in study.
From early childhood he had at times been the sub-
ject of serious impressions, and had been very carefully
brought up by his parents. The sudden change in
his style of living had by no means the unfavourable

4

"WILLIAM CATOX.

effect which might have heen feared, for he says that
his heart was softened while thus living in " much
pleasure, ease, and fulness, . . . forasmuch as Providence
had cast me into such a noble family, where there were
such sweet children, with whose company I was more
than a little affected. In those days there remained an
integrity in my heart towards God, and often did I call
upon His name."

In order to be alone whilst engaged in prayer he
would of a mornimr linger in the bedroom until his
companion had gone downstairs. He was much ex-
posed to temptation during a few months spent by
George Fell and himself at a country school ; but, he
writes, " The Lord was wonderfully gracious to me, and
many times, when I have deserved nothing but stripes
from Him, hath He broken and overcome my heart with
His Divine love." At times his soul ardently longed
for communion with God, and he found that he could
not satisfy its cravings by taking notes of sermons or
writing paraphrases of them, though such efforts were
commended by the family at the Hall.

Much did he marvel at the unfashionable dress and
simple manners of their guest from Fenny Drayton,
•' Yet something in me," he writes, " did love him and
own his testimony. And I began to find the truth of
what he spoke in myself ; for his doctrine tended very
much to the bringing of us to the light, with which
Christ Jesus had enlightened us withal, which shined
in our hearts and convinced us of sin and evil ; and
into love with that and obedience to that he sought to
bring us, that thereby, through the Son, we might be
brought into unity and covenant with the Lord."

WILLIAM CATON.

5

Deep, also, and lasting, was the effect of George
Fox's ministry on the hearts of the mistress of
Swarthmoor Hall (a descendant of the martyr, Anne
Askew), her young daughters and their governess, as
well as on the steward, Thomas Salthouse, the house-
keeper, and most of the servants ; and when Judge
Fell was crossing the sands of Leven, on his homeward
journey, he was told that his family were all bewitched.
His son, too, we find, was " somewhat touched with
the same power," which helped to smooth the path of
William Caton, who was experiencing in his own soul
the power of the truths which they had heard, though
he confesses that they often " extinguished the good "
in themselves ; " but," he adds, " such was the love of
God to me in those days, that I was as surely pursued
with judgment as I was overtaken with folly." At
times he would retire to some solitary spot that he
might seek for spiritual refreshment by drawing near to
God.

After awhile his mental conflicts unfitted him for
hard study, and Margaret Fell (the Judge's wife), with
Christian sympathy and womanly penetration, divined
the cause of his inability to write themes and make
Latin verses ; she therefore suggested that he should
leave school and occupy himself in teaching her
daughters and acting as her secretary. Her strength-
ening and soothing influence must have been very
helpful to him, for he describes this period as a happy
time : he found congenial employment in writing for
her of " precious and wholesome things pertaining to the
Truth : whereby," he continues, " I came to have good
opportunities to be conversant with Friends, in whom

6

WILLIAM CATOX.

the life of righteousness began to bud and spring forth,
and who grew in love and unity, with which my soul was
exceedingly affected ; and I desired very much to be one
with them in it."' Meanwhile the good work which his
Saviour had begun in his soul was carried on more
rapidly perhaps than he was himself aware of.

" When I was about seventeen years of age," he writes,
" the power of the Lord God did work mightily and etfec-
tually in me to the cleansing, purging, and sanctifying of
me. . . . And then I began to be broken, melted, and over-
come with the love of God which sprang in my heart, and
the Divine and precious promises that were confirmed to my
soul. Oh ! the preciousness and excellency of that day !
Oh ! the glory and the blessedness of that day ! how or
wherewith shall I demonstrate it, that they that are yet un-
born might understand it, and give glory unto the Lord
Jehovah ? "

This most merciful visitation was shared by many
others of the household, and very closely were their
hearts drawn together ; whilst such was their desire to
worship unitedly Him who had done such great things
for them that they frequently met for this purpose in
the latter part of the evening, when other members of
the family had retired to rest. Great was William
Caton's disappointment when, in consequence of George
Fell's wish to keep early hours — or, it may be, to avoid
late meetings — he had to accompany him to his cham-
ber, whilst his heart remained with the little company
below; for, he says, the refreshment and benefit of these
seasons was indescribable. " If," he adds, " we had
suffered loss in the day-time when we had been abroad
about our business or the like, then we came in a great
measure thus to be restored again, through the love,

WILLIAM CATON.

7

power, and mercy of our God, which abounded very
much unto us."

The young heir of Swarthmoor Hall had become
indifferent to such matters, and William Caton was not
sorry when, in consequence of his being sent to another
school, they were separated. It was true that this
might stand in the way of Caton's worldly preferment,
but we cannot wonder that this seemed of little moment
to ore who could say, "I was often overcome with the
love of my Father, which did exceedingly break and
ravish my heart, and so I know it was with others of
that family ; and of the overflowings thereof did we
communicate one to another to the comforting and
refreshing one of another ; and truly willing were we to
sympathise and bear one with another, and in true and
tender love to watch one over another. And oh ! the
love, mercy, and power of God, which abounded to us,
through us, and amoDg us, who shall declare it ? "
Many Friends at a distance, hearing how remarkably
the Lord's power was manifested in this family, visited
Swarthmoor Hall, so that occasionally visitors from five
or six counties would stay at the house at one time.
This gave especial satisfaction to William Caton, who,
in consequence of frequently writing for Margaret Fell,
had much intercourse with them. George Fox he re-
garded as a tender-hearted father, who, not content with
" having begotten him through the Gospel," endeavoured
to lead him onwards in the path of the just ; whilst his
" entirely beloved friend, Margaret Fell," cared for him
as if he had been her own child.

These peaceful days at Swarthmoor were but the
preparation for his life labours ; freely had he re-

8

WILLIAM CATON.

ceived of the grace of God, and freely was he to
share it with others. George Fox says, " He was one
like unto Timothy, who was an example in innocence,
simplicity, and purity in his life and conversation,
after he was converted ; for that did preach, as well
as his doctrine, in the churches of Christ." William
Caton himself thus describes his call to the ministry :
" Seeing the darkness and ignorance so great in which
people were involved, my spirit was stirred within me,
and my earthen vessel came to be filled with love to
their souls, and with zeal for God and His Truth.
And about that time I began to know the motion of
His power and the command of His Spirit ; by which
I came to be moved to go to the places of public
worship." Although, at that period, it was not a rare
event for laymen to address a congregation at the con-
clusion of the usual service, it can be no matter of
surprise that a youth of seventeen should shrink from
thus publicly testifying against the sins of preachers
as well as of hearers. But he had given his heart to
his Redeemer, and henceforth there was but one way
for him to walk in — narrow it might be, and yet an
indescribably blessed one. " Wherefore when I saw
it must be so," he says, " I put on courage in the
name of the Lord ; and having faith in Him which
stood in His power I gave up to His will." Then he
realised the fulfilment of Christ's promise that He
would be with him : harassing doubts and the fear of
man were alike taken from him, and power was given
him — stripling though he was — to speak as " one
having authority." Some were willing to hear him ;
others, " as brute beasts," fell upon him ; but the Lord

WILLIAM CATON.

9

preserved him from evil, and filled his heart with
peace.

In market places, too, he often preached, seldom
knowing what he should say until he reached the
spot, yet never lacking words wherewith to clothe his
Master's message. " His word," he writes, " did often
powerfully pass through me, and never did I go about
any service for the Lord in which I was faithful but I
always had my reward with me." Blows and beat-
ings, stocks and stonings, he gave little heed to, for he
found in the enjoyment of God's love that which made
more than full amends for all ; and whenever he was
most deeply tried, the tenderness of the Lord's love
was most clearly manifested. He alludes also to the
great help afforded him from the consciousness of the
warm attachment of his fellow-believers.

In the intervals of his ministerial service he indus-
triously employed himself at Swarthmoor, still finding
true spiritual refreshment with the household there, as
they "spake often one to another and the Lord hearkened
and heard." But soon he found that notwithstanding
" the glorious days there," the time was at hand when
he must bid his friends farewell, and go forth at his
Saviour's bidding to work in more distant vineyards.
Judge Fell was very unwilling for him to leave his
house, but his wife, with truer affection, overcame her
first feelings of regret, and freely gave him up. And yet,
although they knew that they could still be near one
another in spirit, it was amidst the freely -flowing tears, as
well as the fervent prayers of the family, that the parting
took place, on a winter day, when he was about eighteen.

He travelled chiefly on foot and — bearing this in

10

WILLIAM CATON.

mind — his diligence in his holy calling was wonderful.
When twelve months had elapsed he had visited, in
addition to many English counties, some parts of Scot-
land, Calais, Eotterdam and other Dutch cities. In
London he found several ministering brethren from the
north, and, together, they laboured night and day.
" The word of the Lord grew mightily," he says, " and
many were added to the faith." Here he met with
John Stubbs, who soon became one of his dearest friends.
In the previous year Stubbs had left the army in
consecpuence of the effect produced on his mind by the
preaching of George Fox ; a holier warfare lay before
him in many parts of Europe, in Egypt and America :
he was well skilled in the classics, and a remarkable
Oriental scholar. Like William Caton he greatly loved
and esteemed Margaret Fell. In one of his letters to
her he says, " How often in my distress hath the Lord
raised one up to minister in season to me, both by word
and by writing. . . . Truly He hath made thee, even
thee, as His angel and messenger these two times to
publish peace unto me."

Whilst William Caton and John Stubbs were hold-
ing meetings in Kent, they were brought before the
magistrates at Dover, who decided that a penalty should
be inflicted on any one who gave them lodging : they
were therefore turned out from the apartments which
they had occupied at the inn. In this time of need
they were befriended by a shoemaker, named Luke
Howard, who having been told on the previous Sunday
that a Quaker was preaching in the churchyard, at once
went there, and found a sermon even in William Caton's
countenance and demeanour ; he protected him from

WILLIAM CATON.

1 I

abuse and insult, and carefully noticed the house which
he entered, in order that he might visit him when the
darkness of the winter evening should screen him from
observation. But he soon grew bolder, for when the
innkeeper no longer dared to entertain the young-
preachers, Luke Howard said to them, " Go home to my
house, for I care not for the rulers nor mayor either ; "
and he refused to give them up when asked to do so by
the constables.

Two meetings were held in his house, of which the
latter was regarded by him as the turning-point of his
life. When his guests left the town he walked two or
three miles with them, and gave them the names of some
places on the coast, and also of some persons who might
render them assistance : so much did he feel at parting
with them that, even after returning to Dover, he found
it difficult to keep back his tears. Deep inward trials
were for a time his portion, but the Saviour to whom
he had fled for refuge suffered not his faith to fail, and
when almost ready to despair these words came as a
heavenly message to his soul, — " I will cleave the rocks
and mountains that the redeemed of the Lord may
come to Zion." Casting all his care upon Christ,
henceforth hope was the anchor of his soul though
tempest after tempest might befall him. Thus, when
describing his sixteen months' confinement in Dover
Castle for attendance of meetings, he writes : " I had
perfect peace, joy, and content in it all ; and the Lord
made it good unto me both within and without." *

* Luke Howard gives the following beautiful description of the
consolation afforded him one night during this, or another imprison-

V2

WILLIAM CATON.

Before leaving Dover John Stubbs and William Caton
had remarked in a letter to Francis Howoill and Edward

o

Burrough, " A fire is kindled among them which can-
not be easily quenched." Nor were they mistaken in
this belief, for Dover was one of the first places in Kent
where, in accordance with their advice, a meeting was
established by those who were convinced of the truths
which they preached. During some years this meeting
was held in silence, unless visited by a travelling
minister ; but Luke Howard, at whose house the Friends
at first assembled, says that the Lord was their Teacher,
and manifested His power and presence in their midst.

Whilst at Lydd, William Caton and his companion
were kindly entertained at the house of Samuel Fisher, a
very eminent Baptist minister, to whom they had been
directed by Luke Howard. In his earlier life he had
been a clergyman, but had resigned his living from con-
scientious motives. At first he did not fully acknow-
ledge the influence which the ministry of his guests
had on him ; but when, after visiting some neighbouring
places, they had returned to Lydd, and another Baptist

ment :— " On the Third-day of the Eighth Month, 1661, in the night-
watch, upon my bed of straw and chaff, in the common gaol of Dover
Castle, as I lay in a comfortable sleep and rest, the hand of my God
fell upon me, and His sweet and comforting presence awakened me,
and so continued with me unto the morning-watch ; in which time
the living presence of my God was with me and the comfortable
presence of His Holy Spirit accompanied me ; so that my soul was
filled with His living presence as with a mighty river, which did over-
flow the banks, so that nothing appeared but joy and gladness, and
the streams of His everlasting virtue ran through me exceeding
swift. . . This is my God ; I have waited for Him, and His appear-
ance to me is as the morning without clouds, and His beauty hath
taken my heart, and His comeliness hath ravished my soul, and with
His exceeding riches hath He adorned my inward man, and His
everlasting strength is my salvation, even the Son of His love."

AVILLIAM CATON.

13

minister publicly preached against them and their
doctrine, Samuel Fisher arose and said, " Dear brother,
you are very near and dear to me, but the Truth is
nearer and dearer : this is the everlasting Truth and
Gospel ! " To the preacher's exclamation, " Our brother
Fisher is also bewitched," he made no reply ; in the
course of that year he joined the Society of Friends.
For ten years he diligently laboured as a minister at
home and abroad, and also as an author, often suffering
severe persecution for the cause which was dearer to
him than life. He died in the White Lion gaol, in
Southwark, after a long imprisonment.

So grateful were some of the open-hearted Kentish
people to William Caton and John Stubbs, who had
been enabled to labour very powerfully amongst them
that they urged them to receive gold, which was
declined, with the reply that it was not theirs but them,
they sought. But at Maidstone a different reception
awaited them ; they were sent to the House of Correc-
tion, deprived of their Bible, money, etc., then stripped,
and, with their necks and arms placed in stocks, bar-
barously whipped until bystanders wept at the sight.
After irons and large clogs of wood had been laid on
them, they were ordered to work, and because they did
not were kept without food for some days. The women
who lived in the house showed their pity by privately
offering them refreshment, which they did not think it
well to accept. Before they were set at liberty a few
things were restored to them ; but they were dismissed
from the town in contrary directions, each accompanied
by constables, to whom (so states an old MS. of Friends
of East Kent) " their heavenly images and sober lives

14

WILLIAM CATON.

and words preached so much that they finally suffered
them to travel alone whither they pleased."

Neither knew where the other had gone, and great
was their pleasure at meeting in London ; but soon
they felt hound to return to Maidstone and, though
fearing the consequences of so hold a measure, their
faith did not fail, and they were preserved from further
persecution. On re-visiting other towns in Kent they
were cheered by the belief that their patient suffering
had tended to confirm the faith of those to whom their *
ministry had been an effectual message. From Dover
William Caton crossed to Calais, where he had what he
styles " a very gallant opportunity " at a mansion with
some of the chief inhabitants, a Scotch nobleman acting
as his interpreter. Soon afterwards he accompanied
John Stubbs to Holland. They meant to sail from
Yarmouth, whither they had walked from Dover, often
travelling many miles a day — no hardship perhaps but
for the fact that, in order to avoid expense, they sadly
stinted themselves in food. Yet William Caton says
that their reward was with them in all places and con-
ditions.

After a delay of three weeks they went on board a
vessel, but, to their great disappointment, the captain
refused to take them. As it seemed unlikely that
they would obtain a passage from that port, they thought
it best to go northward. William Caton longed to visit
his beloved friends at Swarthmoor, and a suitable
opportunity for doing so occurred, to his extreme
refreshment of body and soul. Before sailing some
meetings were held in Durham, which were of great
service.

WILLIAM CATON.

15

On returning from Holland, where very rough treat-
ment was encountered, he again spent a short time at
Swarthmoor Hall ; he writes, " A very precious time we
had together, whereby my very life was much revived ;
and therefore did my soul magnify the Lord, with the
rest of His lambs and babes in that place." Soon he
started for Scotland with JohnStubbs; many were their
sufferings within and without, but the Lord sustained
them through all, and their exceeding affection for each
other was a continual source of comfort. In the following
winter, in company with another Friend, William Caton
visited Lancashire, Cheshire, etc., and says that time
would fail him to relate " the extraordinary good service "
which they had. He also attended a large General
Meeting in Leicestershire, which was a very blessed
time ; George Fox, whom he had much wished to meet
again, was present. A little later, whilst on his way to
Scotland, he visited Ambleside, in which place courage
and power were given him to address a congregation in
a chapel, though the people first attacked him as if they
had been wild beasts. At Edinburgh and Leith many
large meetings were held, sometimes in the streets, and
much power in the ministry was granted to William
Caton and the Friend who was with him.

About this time we find the former ill from the effect
of " sore travel " from place to place. On their return
to Cumberland they held meetings, which William
Caton describes as being very large and precious, and
lie adds, " Friends were strengthened and confirmed in
the precious truth which in those days did flourish and
prosper very much ; and the Lord's power and presence
was with us, through which we were carried on in His

16

WILLIAM CA.TON.

work and service, in which our souls delighted to be
exercised. There being such an effectual door open
abroad in the country I was constrained, through the
love of God which dwelt richly in my heart, to labour so
much the more diligently, for I knew it was good work-
ing whilst it was day ; and indeed a glorious and precious
time we had, to make known unto the people the way
of salvation, and what the Lord had done for our souls ;
many believed and were converted, and brought to serve
and worship the Lord in spirit and in truth."

Many of these meetings were held around Swarth-
moor j soon afterwards he bade farewell to his friends
there, and bent his steps southward. He was greatly
cheered by his intercourse with Friends at Bristol, and
with the " large and gallant meetings " held in that
city and neighbourhood, and says that he was enabled
to " communicate to them of the overflowing of the
life and power dwelling " in him. Then we find him
travelling westward, usually alone and on foot, to visit
George Fox and other Friends in Launceston gaol.
Their intercourse was " in the fulness of endeared love,"
and though William Caton's chief aim might be to carry
comfort to the prisoners, his own cup was filled to the
brim.

When at Totnes he was brought before the mayor,
who threatened him with a whipping ; but the other
magistrates thought more moderate measures might
suffice. When they examined him a clergyman was
present, and an excellent opportunity was afforded Caton
to uphold the truth as it is in Jesus, for in that very
hour, he says, the Lord was much witli him. After
spending the night in prison he was sent on with a pass

WILLIAM CATON.

17

from place to place ; an arrangement which had by no
means the intended effect, for it soon became known,
in one town after another, that William Caton was no
pauper, but a Quaker, and as people came out of their
houses to see him, he addressed them freely on the
truths dear to his soul.

After attending a General Meeting in Wiltshire, and
some other services, he re-visited Kent. He was but
twenty years of age, yet his Saviour's grace and power
were so manifestly granted him that he shared in the
wonder felt by others at the abundance given for the
multitudes who came to hear him. When he turned
his thoughts to his own weakness he was ready to faint ;
but when he placed his confidence in Christ alone, he
became strong. Often he did not know what he should
say when he entered a meeting, and yet so much was
given him to communicate that he would speak for two,
three, or, occasionally, four hours. " Not unto me, not
unto me, be the praise," he writes, " but unto the Lord
alone. I can truly say that which I received from
Him I delivered unto His people. . . . An exceeding
glorious day I had of it, and did much rejoice in the
Lord, notwithstanding my great travails and sufferings ;
neither were they much to me, with all the perils
and dangers I went through, both by sea and land,
in comparison of the power and presence of the
Almighty."

In the summer of the same year he again sailed for
Holland, this time alone — though he longed for a com-
panion— and in poor health from the effect of exposure
to heat and cold during his almost incessant journeys.
He met with scoffing and abuse from some fellow- ,

0

18

WILLIAM CATON.

voyagers, who were, nevertheless, ready to give heed to
his words when he addressed them in their dismay,
during a dangerous storm, which had filled them with
terror. Deep trials were his portion during this visit,
which were increased when he became aware of the
evils wrought by the extreme views promulgated by
some who had joined the Society. At Middleburgh,
William Caton and his interpreter were imprisoned for
some days, and then conveyed in a waggon to the coast.
They were accompanied by several soldiers to protect
them from the violence of the citizens ; but, as William
Caton says, the Lord was their chief keeper. Great were
their sufferings during the following fortnight, whilst
prisoners on board a man-of-war, in which they were
carried to England. Though the weather was very
cold and stormy, they were obliged to lie on the bare
planks, and were not even allowed the covering of a
piece of sail-cloth. But God had not forgotten to be
gracious. Whilst undergoing this treatment, William
Caton's health and strength were, in a great measure,
restored, though for a time he suffered severe pain in
the feet, the result of keeping on shoes and stockings
during so long a period of exposure to the cold.

Soon afterwards he paid an extremely satisfactory
visit to Sussex. At one place where a meeting was
held, a rude crowd marched up to the house with a
drum, seeming ready in their violence to pull down the
building on the heads of those assembled. William
Caton went out to them and asked what they wanted.
" Quakers ! " was the reply. " I am one," he said, and
then power was given him to address them in such a
manner as to make them withdraw in shame and fear.

WILLIAM CATOX.

19

He met with a somewhat similar deliverance during his
next visit to the Netherlands, where he spent more than
a year engaged in ministerial service and authorship.
On his return he was comforted by the blessed meetings
held in London, where many were added to the Church ;
and he speaks of how God bestowed exceeding power
and wisdom from above on His servants and handmaids,
who, in Christ's name preached the Word of Life, not
in meetings only, but in churches, markets, streets, and
highways, indeed wherever their Saviour led, and when-
ever He constrained them. They gave themselves
wholly to God, and marvellous was the result.

" I made it my sole work to be found doing the work
of God, unto which He had called me," writes William
Caton, after describing meetings held in the north of
England, where, as in many other parts of the country>
the labours of Friends were producing extraordinary
effect. Now and then he enjoyed extreme refreshment
by intercourse with the family at Swarthmoor, " whom,"
he says, " he found in the same love, life, and power in
which he left them." The very remembrance of these
days was sweet to him in after years, and the more so
from the continued consciousness of the love of Christ,
by whose realised presence those seasons had been
hallowed. It was this, also, which had often made
his weary journeyings and arduous labours a source of
delight.

Early in 1659 he attended a meeting of ministers
from various parts of the kingdom, held at the Bull and
Mouth Meeting-house in London, which he writes of as
being " very large and exceedingly precious." In the
latter part of the day a meeting was held at Horsely-

20

WILLIAM CATON.

down, where a great concourse seemed much impressed
with the truths they heard. William Caton says : —
" Great was our rejoicing and comfort which we had in
the work and service of the Lord, in which we were
abundantly refreshed together. And in that great
assembly did our souls, even with one accord, praise and
magnify the God of our salvation." A visit to Holland
in the same year, with its perilous return voyage, was
soon followed by one to Scotland. He set out on the
latter expedition from Swarthmoor, and after his friends
and himself had, as they thought, fully taken leave of
each other, they felt that they could not yet part, and
several hours were spent in waiting on the Lord, and in
pouring out their souls in prayer. Whilst in Scotland
he endeavoured to obtain an interview with General
Monk, but, being unable to do so, he wrote an address
to him and his army.

A meeting which he attended at Warrington the
following winter was broken up by some rough soldiers,
who violently forced the worshippers out of the town ;
but they re-assembled on the road-side, and had, we
find, a " sweet and precious meeting." Before long the
soldiers again interrupted them, and whilst William
Caton was preaching, seized him, and to the great dis-
tress of his friends, beat him with their muskets and
spears ; then, having given vent to their fury, they
allowed him to return to the meeting, where, he says,
" The Lord's power and presence did exceedingly appear
amongst us ; for, as our suffering at that time was
greater than ordinary, even so was our refreshment in
the Lord." About this time he records the death of
his " dear mother " whilst he was paying her a visit.

WILLIAM CATON.

21

When in London, in 1660, he alludes in a letter to
full and peaceful meetings on the previous Sunday;
and, after stating that the common topic of conversa-
tion was the expected coming of the King, he adds,
" But blessed be the Lord for ever, in whose power we
can testify that our King is come who reigns in power
and great glory." Nor can we wonder at these words
from one who drew the strength and joy of his life from
the knowledge that his citizenship was in heaven ; who
might have said in the words of another, " When I die
I shall change my place but not my company ! " *
Redeemed by the precious blood of Christ, to Him
William Caton freely dedicated his life, and the Lord,
who loveth a cheerful giver, suffered not his faith to fail
— to whatever extent it might be tried, " I have often
observed," he says, " that, by how much the more I felt
the weight of the service of the meeting before I went
into it, by so much the more was my service in it, and
my reward accordingly. Blessed and magnified be the
Lord for ever."

Before sailing for Holland, in the latter part of the
year, he writes from Dover to George Fox. After
mentioning the death of a Friend, of Staplehurst —
probably a minister — who would be greatly missed in
that neighbourhood, he adds, " I believe there will now
be more necessity for Friends visiting them pretty often
than there was before ; I desire that thou wouldst be
mindful of them .... Dearly beloved of my soul," he

* " Have you a glimpse of Christ now that you are dying ? " was
the question asked of an old Scottish saint, who, raising himself,
made the emphatic reply, " I'll hae none o' your glimpses now that
I am dying, since that I have had a full look at Christ these forty
years gane ! "

22

WILLIAM CATON.

writes, " let thy prayers be for me that I may be kept in
the power, life, and wisdom of our God, to His praise
and to the comfort and consolation of the brethren,
with whom I can rest in the Lord, even in the heat of
the day; glory be to the Lord for ever." And, during
the voyage, we find that he was " exceedingly filled
with the Lord's love, and with the power of His might."
One of his fellow-passengers, a Roman Catholic, not-
withstanding William Caton's habitually courteous
manners, openly avowed his hatred of him and his
religion : but before they parted there was a complete
change in his behaviour. Well did George Fox say,
" Love, patience, and wisdom will wear out all which is
not of God."

In a letter of sympathy written from Amstersdam
to English Friends, William Caton remarks that he
believes those amongst them who were not yet cast into
prison were in no greater danger from persecution than
were their brethren resident in that city, where it was
said that fifty men had conspired to break up their
meeting, and pull down the meeting-house. It was
about this time that he published a volume with the
lengthy title, " An Abridgment or Compendious Com-
memoration of the Eemarkablest Chronologies which
are contained in that celebrated Ecclesiastical History
of Eusebius." In 1661 William Caton visited Germany
with William Ames ; at Heidelberg they had interviews
with the Prince, and laid before him the sufferings of
the Friends in his dominions on account of their con-
scientious objection to the payment of tithes : he gave
them a courteous reception, and made them dine with
him. When next at Heidelberg William Caton had the

WILLIAM CATON.

23

unexpected pleasure of meeting with his friend John
Stnbbs who, with another Friend, was on the homeward
route from Egypt. When the Prince heard they were
at William Caton's lodgings, he sent his secretary to
ask them to come to the Castle to see him, where, in
the presence of his nobles, he conversed very freely
with them about their mission, and, after what William
Caton calls " a very gallant opportunity," he took an
affectionate leave of them. •

The enjoyment of William Caton in the society of
his brethren was soon shadowed by tidings from
Amsterdam of the death of a beloved friend of his,
Niesie Dirrix, a faithful labourer for her Lord in her
native land ; his sorrow was great until he was com-
forted by the conviction that her mantle would fall on
her sister Anneken and some others. On his return
to Holland, some months later, he made proposals of
marriage to Anneken Dirrix. Warm and enthusiastic

O

as his disposition was, he took extreme care to act
rightly in this matter : lie wished her first to consider
whether she " felt something in it as from the Lord,"
and asked for no reply until she had deliberately
weighed three things : — First the difference in their
outward circumstances and how little he had to offer
her ; secondly, the liberty — more to him than the trea-
sures of Egypt— which he should still need to travel
in the service of the Lord : and, thirdly, the possibility
that their union might be disapproved of by magistrates,
by her relatives or others, and might thus bring trouble
upon her. Her reply was to the following effect : — As
to the first, it was not means that she looked to but
virtue. As to the second, when the Lord needed him

24

WILLIAM GATON.

for any service she should not be the woman that would
hinder him. As to the last, if they " were perfectly
clear of the thing before the Lord, she hoped to bear
what people without should say, for that would be one
of the least crosses ! " Still they did not think it right
for a time to bind themselves by promise. William
Caton thus describes his own feelings during an in-
terview which they had after several months had
elapsed : — " Waiting awhile exceeding steadfastly in
the light of the Lord, the life began to arise, and the
Word of the Lord testified unto me thus, saying,
' She is the gift of the Lord to thee.' Then was my
heart also broken, and in the fulness of love and unity
in the everlasting covenant did I receive her as the
Lord's gift unto me."

About three months after his marriage he embarked
for England. Whilst in London he received much
spiritual refreshment from a visit to Edward Burrough
[of whom there is a sketch in this volume], then a
prisoner in Newgate, where he died a week or two
later. Their separation was not a long one : each was
early called to the ministry ; each accomplished the
labour of a long lifetime in ten or a dozen years. Like
their Divine Master " clad with zeal as a cloak,"
" through faith they wrought righteousness, obtained
promises, . . . out of weakness were made strong,
waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of
the aliens." On his next visit to England — for his
home was now in Holland — William Caton was accom-
panied by his wife, who greatly longed to become
acquainted with the Friends there, of whom she had
no doubt often heard ; and with a similar desire some

WILLIAM CATON.

25

other Dutch members of the Society sailed with
them.

The London Friends rejoiced, William Caton says,
" to see people of another nation, and of a strange
language, brought into the same living truth in which
they were established, and to bear the same image
which they bore, — and to be comprehended in the same
Love." At a General Meeting at Kingston he acted
as interpreter for one of his Dutch sisters. His wife
and the other Friends from Holland returned some
time before his mission was accomplished, but in the
autumn of 1G63 he also set sail. When about ten
leagues off Yarmouth, William Caton, who felt sure that
a storm was at hand, unavailingly urged the captain to
put back. That night a tempest overtook them, and
at its height the helm became useless, and, as the
vessel was very leaky, she was in extreme peril ; the
sailors, wet to the skin and utterly wearied by toiling
at the pumps and with the sails, were almost ready
to despair. William Caton, who had been aiding them
in their arduous work, now wrestled in prayer for their
deliverance if in accordance with God's will ; " though,
as for my own part," he says, whilst with deep gratitude
recording their remarkable preservation, " I found myself
exceeding freely given up to becpieath my soul into
His bosom of everlasting love, and my body to be
buried in that great deep."

But soon storms of a different character had to be
encountered. Whilst waiting at Yarmouth for a change
in the wind he attended the meeting there, and, in
company with seven other Friends, also strangers, was
carried before the magistrates of the town. Because

26

WILLIAM CATON.

they declined to take the Oath of Allegiance they were
committed to the common gaol, where they were con-
fined for more than six months ; when it was tendered
to William Caton he said that he had never uttered an
oath but once, in his boyhood, and having then incurred
the displeasure of the Almighty he dared not swear
again. So fully had the magistrates anticipated this
steadfast adherence of the Friends to their conscientious
convictions, that they made out their mittimus before
putting them to the test.

In a letter, written a few days later, William Caton
alludes to the cruelty of their oppressors, which some-
times made it no easy matter to obtain their bread and
water ; but says that the only wonder was that he had
not earlier found himself in bonds, " unto which," he
adds, " I have long been freely given up in the will of
God where my soul is in peace with the Lord." And
again he writes of how " one day in prison, with the
Lord, was better than a thousand elsewhere without the
enjoyment of His presence, in whose love his soul
solaced itself night and day." Some friends of the
prisoners, thinking to beguile the long hours of their
confinement, wished to give them a spinning-wheel, but
were not allowed to do so.

It was in the early part of 1664 that the Friends
were liberated, after meeting with kind consideration
from the judge who presided over the sessions, and from
a justice of the peace. Five of William Caton's fellow-
sufferers belonged to a vessel which had come to
Yarmouth for herrings, and as, during this period, she
was seized by the Turks, their English captivity was
the means of saving them from Asiatic slavery.

WILLIAM CATON.

27

In the following winter William Caton wrote an
epistle from Rotterdam to his friends in England.
After referring to his powerlessness to express the
fervency of his love, and of his prayerful longings for
them, he adds, " Yet herein can I satisfy myself, in that
we come to read and feel one another in that which is
immortal." He says that, although his heart is often
saddened hy the many hindrances to the extension of
the Redeemer's kingdom in Holland, he is supported by
the " wonted goodness and tender mercy of the Most
High, still perfectly continued to him." William Caton
died in the latter part of the following year, at the age
of nine-and-twenty. His wife did not long survive
him.

It has been remarked that " No truth or goodness
realised by man ever dies, or can die ; " and surely such
a life, though lived two centuries ago, has not ceased to
convey a lesson. As we look around us we find no
warrant for believing that the world no longer needs to
be reminded of that Cross to which every helpless soul
may cling, and of such truths as Christ's Headship of
His Church, the Spirituality of the Gospel dispensation,
and the reality of the teaching and guidance of the
Holy Spirit.

The fields are white unto harvest still ; still the Lord
of the harvest has need of labourers ; of labourers who,
with the knowledge that they are bought with a price,
and that " voluntary obedience is liberty " — wholly
yield themselves to Him to be trained for, and guided
in, any service which He sees meet to assign to them,
be it of what kind it may, for " all service is not work,
and all work is not service ; " consecrating to Him, as

28

WILLIAM CATON.

occasion may arise, every talent whether natural or
acquired —

" Ever by a mighty hope
Pressing on and bearing up."

" Do not," it has been said, " let Satan have all the
benefit of ambition in his kingdom." Excelsior is no
unworthy device for the banner of Christian warriors
who are learning that they "are nothing, Christ is all." *
" Behold, the Lord's hand is not shortened that it
cannot save ; neither His ear heavy that it cannot hear."
He can " restore judges as at the first, and counsellors
as at the beginning." May no unbelief on our part
hinder the performance of " mighty works " on His.

* " So long," writes the author of The Patience of Hope, " as we
are resting on anything within ourselves — be it even in a work of
grace — there remains, at least to honest hearts, a ground for con-
tinual restlessness and continual disappointment. To know that
we have nothing, are nothing, out of Christ, is to know the truth
which makes us free."

JOHN AUDLAND AND
f RIEJ^D£

No harp was ever strung capable of yielding such music as
of man attuned to righteous obedience." — MuNGEB.

31

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FKIENDS.

" In the Church of God there is no irrevocable golden age in

the past In God's battles leaders cannot fail." — Author

of " The Sckdriberg-Cotta Family."

When John Audland was about twenty-two years
of age he was a very popular minister amongst the
Independents. Sewel describes him as " a young man
of a comely countenance, and very lovely qualities, very
religious, and having a good understanding." One
Sunday morning, in 1652, he preach at Firbank Chapel,
in Westmoreland. Before noon George Fox arrived at
this place ; it was soon rumoured that he would preach
there that day, and whilst some people went away for a
time to dine, a large number remained.

George Fox, having quenched his thirst at a stream,
seated himself on the summit of a rock near the chapel,
and from this elevation he, in the afternoon, addressed
the vast multitude gathered around him. In this con-
gregation were several preachers, including John Aud-
land, who had brought his wife, a young lady of good
family, with him. Probably as their thirsty souls drank
in the words which fell with heavenly power from the
stranger's lips, they were hardly conscious that he con-
tinued speaking for about three hours, directing all to
the Spirit of God in themselves. Glorious was the
heritage he pourtrayed as the present portion of believers
in Christ; that they "might know their bodies to be
prepared, sanctified, and made fit temples for God and

32

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS.

Christ to dwell in." He strove to turn the thoughts of
his hearers away from all figures and shadows to Christ
the Substance ; " Christ was come," he said, " who ended
both the temple and its worship, and the priests and
their tithes ; and all now should hearken unto Him."

Effectual as was George Fox's message to many that
day, it was more so to none than John and Anne Audland,
and it was to their house that he adjourned when the
meeting was over. Both were " chosen vessels unto the
Lord to declare His name," and the life-long ministry of
each began in the following year. Deep was John
Audland's distress when his eyes were opened to see
that his high profession of religion was valueless. " It
is a Saviour that I long for," was now his cry, — " it is
He that my soul pants after, Oh, that I may be gathered
into his life, and overshadowed with His glory, sanctified
throughout by His word, and raised up by His eternal
power ? "

The answer to his continued prayers was not long
delayed ; the Lord, in accordance with His promise, ful-
filled his desire, heard his cry and saved him.

" Oh, how wonderful His ways !
All in love begin and end ;
Whom His mercy means to raise ;
First His justice bids descend."

Thus baptised into Christ John Audland was, ere
long, qualified to preach the word with extraordinary
power. The remuneration which he had previously
received for his services as an eloquent Independent
minister he now returned to the parish of Colton.

Anne Audland was the daughter of a gentleman of
the name of Newby, who also became a Friend about

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS.

33

this time ; she had been well educated, and during a
seven years' residence with an aunt in London had often
associated with Puritans. Before her marriage, when
at her home at Kendal, she chose the most serious people
of that town for her friends, uniting with some who
often met together to wait on God in silence, or for
religious conference and fervent prayer. Perhaps on the
day of George Fox's memorable visit to Firbank she was
already " not far from the kingdom."

Two years later we find her, at the age of twenty-
seven, preaching at Auckland, in Durham, on a market-
day, in consequence of which she was confined for some
hours in the town gaol, through the window of which
she continued to address a not unmoved audience, one
of whom, a gentleman named Langs taff, who was much
respected in the neighbourhood, was so impressed by
her ministry that he accompanied her to prison, and
afterwards took her to his house ; here, however, she
declined remaining when she observed bis wife's annoy-
ance at the arrival of a Quaker guest, and went out into
the fields to seek for some sheltered spot where she
might spend the night. But Antony Pearson, a justice
of the peace, who had lately become a Friend, had been
told by George Fox, who was staying at his house, of
Anne Audland's arrival in the town, and came with a
horse and pillion to escort her to his residence.

During the following winter, whilst travelling with
Mabel Camm (the wife of John Camm), she was com-
mitted to prison by the Mayor of Banbury, who had
induced two witnesses to swear that she had spoken
blasphemy : but after some days, two residents in the
town gave bond for her appearance at the assizes, and

D

34

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS.

thus an opportunity for holding a series of meetings was
afforded her.

A remarkable blessing rested on these labours ; several
hundreds, including the two " bondsmen," were effectu-
ally led to Christ ; many were added to the Society, and
not only was a large meeting formed in Banbury, but
several others were established in the neighbourhood.
These things of course kindled the wrath of her enemies,
who threatened that she should be burned. Her hus-
band and other Friends were present at the trial, when
the indictment drawn up against her was that she had
said God did not live, because, when speaking of a
clergyman at Banbury, she had remarked that " True
words may be a lie in the mouth of some who speak
them," quoting Jer. v. 2. When the judge had ques-
tioned her he soon discovered the falseness of the
evidence adduced, nor did he fail to observe the innocent
fearlessness of her deportment. Some gentlemen on the
bench, being afraid that the case would fall to the
ground, followed the jury and induced them to bring in
a verdict of " Guilty of misdemeanour." It is satis-
factory to find that these gentlemen were told by one of
their coadjutors that he would not sit with them until
they had more regard for justice, and other officers in
the Court strongly manifested their censure.

On her refusal to give bond for " good behaviour,"
she was sent to prison again, although the judge was
heard to say that she ought to be discharged. For seven
or eight months she was confined in a filthy dungeon, by
the side of which was a sewer which received much of
the drainage of the town ; she had a companion in Jane
Waugh, who was also a minister, and had been impri-

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS.

35

soned for no other offence than that of visiting Anne
Audland. Here, unprotected from cold, and damp, and
noxious gases, with frogs and toads crawling around
them — kept by the peace of God — they abode, we are
told, as in a palace, for they could say : —

" Thy presence makes my paradise,
And where Thou art, is Heaven."

After her release Anne Audland and her husband had
the joy of meeting each other at Bristol, and after some
religious service they returned to their home in West-
moreland. Frequent journeys for the advancement of
Christ's cause were undertaken by both, unitedly and
separately, to most parts of the kingdom. During John
Audland's absence on one of these missions she thus
writes: —

" Dear Husband, — Thou art dearer to me than ever : my
love flows out to thee, even the same love that I am loved
withal of my Father. . . 0, how I am refreshed to hear from
thee of thy faithfulness and boldness in the work of the Lord.

0 ! dear heart, I cannot utter the joy I have concerning
thee ; thy presence I have continually in spirit, therewith am

1 filled with joy? all glory and honour be to our God forever.
. . . Surely the Lord hath found thee faithful in little and
therefore He hath committed much unto thee ; go on in the
name and power of our Lord Jesus Christ, whence all strength
cometh, to whom be all glory and honour for ever. O ! dear
heart, go on conquering and to conquer, knowing this that
thy crown is sure. So, dear heart, now is the time of the
Lord's work, and few are willing to go forth into it. The
whole world lieth in wickedness doing their own work ; but
blessed be the Lord for ever, who hath called us from doing
our own work into His great work. ... I am full of love
towards thee, never such love as this ; the mighty power of
the Lord go along with thee, and keep thee faithful and

36

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS.

valiant, and bold in His pure counsel, to stand single out of
all the world. ... A joyful word it was to me, to hear that
thou wast moved to go to Bristol. 0 ! my own heart, my
own life, in that which now stands, act and obey, that thou
mayst stand upon thy alone guard : so, dear heart, let thy
prayers be forme that I may be kept pure, out of all tempta-
tions, singly to dwell in the life. So farewell! — Anne
Audland."

A series of meetings were held in 1654 by John
Audland and his friend John Camrn, near Bristol, in
a field called Earl's Mead, and were very largely atten-
ded. In a letter to George Fox, Camm says, " We have
here, in Bristol, most commonly 3,000 to 4,000 at a
meeting. The priests and magistrates of the city begin
to rage, but the soldiers (of the Commonwealth) keep
them down ; for the Governor of the Castle is not
against us, and the Captain of the Boyal Fort is abso-
lutely convinced, and his wife loves us dearly. And
many captains and great ones of the city are convinced,
and do believe in us, and that we are of God ; and all
within ten miles of the city round about the people is
very much desirous after Truth. . . . Yea at any point

we come we can have 400 or 500, or even 1,000

And ive hit some every day we shoot, for ' our bow abides
in strength. ' " Edward Burrough and Francis How-
grill were their fellow-labourers for a short time. These
meetings were continued during three or four months,
and Charles Marshall describes this period as " the
glorious morning of the day of visitation of the love of
God, in particular to the city of Bristol." He was then
about seventeen, and an earnest seeker after God ;
having been unable, as he says, to " find the living
among the dead professions," he had spent much time

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS.

37

alone in fields and woods, where " strong, great, and
many," were his cries unto the Lord.

Charles Marshall, before the arrival of John Audland,
had been in the habit of meeting with a few others on
one day of the week which they kept in fasting and
prayer ; they assembled early in the morning, and some-
times sat down in silence, but if any felt it right to
engage in prayer vocally they did so, and even chil-
dren occasionally uttered brief petitions. To one of
these meetings John Audland and John Camm came.
" They spake," writes Charles Marshall, " the power-
ful word of life in the dread of His name who lives
for ever, and we were seized on and smitten even to
the heart ; and that day, and the visitation of it
overtook us, which we had longed and waited for, and
from darkness to the marvellous light of the Lord were
we turned."

On a Sunday morning Charles Marshall went with
the ministers about a mile and-a-half into the country,
to a little spring of water, by the side of which he had
spent many solitary hours ; here they sat down for a
considerable time, and then Charles Marshall observed
that the minds of his companions were greatly exercised,
and soon John Audland said, " Let us be going into
the city." When they reached Broadmead Street
they found several people who were inquiring for the
strangers ; Audland asked if any of them had an interest
in a field, in which they might assemble, and an old
man answered that he had one pretty near. Thither
the company repaired, increasing in number whilst
passing through the streets. John Audland is described
by Charles Marshall as " of a sweet and amiable coun-

38

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS.

tenance, and cheerful spirit, one of the wise in heart,
filled with the excellent, bright, glorious power of the
Lord God."

After John Cainm had spoken tenderly and fervently,
John Audland arose, and to Charles Marshall it seemed
that his face shone as, with a voice of thunder, he
uttered the message of his Lord. " I proclaim spiritual
war," he began, " with the inhabitants of the earth who
are in the fall and separation from God." And the
word of the Lord had free course and was glorified : so
intense was the emotion of some present that they fell
on the ground, whilst others cried out as the preacher
laid bare their inward states ; many were effectually
turned from darkness to light. " Indeed it was a
notable day," writes Charles Marshall, " worthy to be
left on record, that our children may read and tell to
their children, and theirs to another generation, that the
worthy, noble acts of the arm of God's salvation may
be remembered."

After this day the meetings became larger and larger,
so that it was necessary to hold them in the open air,
even in frost and snow, and the ministers laboured
unweariedly to lead their hearers " to look from dead
ways and worships unto Christ Jesus, the Fountain of
Life ;" and many of these sought eagerly night and day
to obtain salvation through Him, giving up their hearts
wholly to His government, and walking in the way of
self-denial — for we read that " This visitation of God's
holy and blessed day was signal and inexpressible."
Some, in their eagerness to obtain an opportunity for
private conversation with the ministers, called on them
before they arose in the morning, so that their labours

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS. 39

be^an at six a.m., and did not end until eleven or even
one o'clock at night. They were, indeed, so sought after
that " every day was like one long meeting." Soon
persecution arose, causing a tumult in the city ; the
houses of Friends were broken into by the mob, under
the pretence of preventing conspiracy, and they were
themselves often treated with brutal violence, whilst
the law afforded them no protection, and the clergy
stimulated the rage of the rioters.

One day, as John Camm and John Audland were
crossing a bridge on their way to a village where a
meeting had been appointed, they found themselves
surrounded by a rabble, by some of whom they were
beaten and kicked, whilst others shouted, " Knock
them down, kill them, hang them ! " — so that they
narrowly escaped with their lives.

Charles Marshall was one of those who found in John
Audland " a dear friend and father in Christ Jesus," and
he afterwards became a very powerful preacher, the
deep conflicts through which he had himself passed,
the better enabling him to draw out his soul to the
hungry, and satisfy the afflicted soul. William Penn
writes that " he was one that waited for the feeling of
God's living and heavenly power to carry him forth in
his ministerial exercises," by which, we find, many were
turned to righteousness, and some induced to covet
earnestly the best gifts. George Whitehead — who says
that he " truly loved him for love's sake " — remarks,
that " his sincere love and regard to Christ's ministers
and messengers appeared to be a good and necessary
preparation for him to be a witness and partaker of the
same ministry." Uis faith was strong ; and, unhindered

40

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FKIENDS.

by the heat of persecution, he visited the various meet-
ings throughout the land, his labours being attended by
an abundant blessing. When, in 1670, at the age of
thirty-two, God called him to the ministry, and laid
this work before him, he said in his soul, " How shall I
visit Thy people in these times, when the rod of the
wicked is upon their backs ?" Then this reply seemed
to be given him, " Go, / will prosper thy way ; and this
present exercise, which is over my people, shall be as a
morning cloud, and I will be to them as the tender dew
through the land of thy nativity."

Although during the next two years Charles Marshall
visited every county in England, no hand was laid on
him, nor did "he know of any one who lost five pounds
on account of attending his meetings. When describing
subsequent labours, he says that he believed thousands
received the word of life ; and in some places, which
had never before been visited by a Friend, meetings
were established. " Oh," he writes, " the tenderness
which mine eye has seen in many places through the
land : the watering showers that descended on the
Lord's plantation is beyond description." But long-
continued painful labours were also allotted to him in
consequence of the spirit of dissension which prevailed
in some counties where John Story, John Wilkinson,
and their party had obtained a footing. Yet he tells
us that God was with him in this day of deep exercise,
making his bow strong, and daily replenishing his quiver
with arrows, even though his soul was, as it were
baptised for the dead.

In one of his pamphlets, "The Way of Life Ee-
vealed," etc., he writes : —

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS.

41

" The travail in spirit of the messengers and servants of
the Most High in ages past, was the same as now it is, viz.,
To turn people from darkness unto light, and from the power
of Satan to the power of the living God ; thereby in nowise
invalidating Christ Jesus, His manifestation in that bodily
appearance, neither His sufferings, death, resurrection, nor
ascension ; but brings all people guided thereby unto that
which will open the eyes of their understanding, whereby
they all come unto such a condition and spiritual under-
standing, as to see and know their benefit by the appearance
of the Saviour of the world ; for this we testify, all are
perfected by that One Offering that are sanctified."

And again he says : —

" As there is a faithful abiding in inward watchfulness,
and continual obedience to this heavenly light, there will be
a growing from strength to strength over sin and the nature
thereof, until thou seest all the rule and authority of the
enemy to be subdued under the feet of the Lord's anointed,
and the government in the soul upon His shoulders, whose
right it is to rule over all. And here salvation, redemption,
and restoration, is effectually enjoyed through faith, and the
effectual working of the Almighty power and arm of God,
unto whom be the glory of His own work for ever ? And so
here will be a growing and increasing, until there is a coming
into that precious state and image in which man was before
he fell."

By profession Charles Marshall was a physician ; he
was remarkable for his kindness and generosity to the
poor, and when on his death-bed he urged this duty on
others. In the year 1682, he was prosecuted by a clergy-
man for the non-payment of tithes, in consequence of
which he was committed by the Barons of the Exchequer
to the Fleet Prison. After he had been confined there
for two years, the clergyman's conscience was so much
troubled that he came in person to release him. Charles
Marshall then settled with his family near London,

42

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS.

where, during many years, lie diligently worked for his
Lord. He died in 1698, at the age of sixty-one." *

Another of the converts of Audland and Camm during
this extraordinary visit to Bristol was a lady named
Barbara Bhmgdon, who had been seriously inclined
from childhood ; she became a minister, and suffered
much from persecution : once, when coming out from a
private house at Bristol, where a meeting had been
held, a man in the street stabbed her very severely,
though no vital part was reached. After her release
from a six weeks' imprisonment at Marlborough, she
had some conversation with the gentleman who had
committed her, in consequence of which he never again
persecuted Friends, but behaved with much kindness
to them, even giving them his aid when able to. do so.
He once called at Barbara Blaugdon's house at Bristol,
and confessed to her that he was convinced of the truth
of the views which she held, although he said that he
could not himself walk in the way of self-denial.

During a visit to Devon, where she was thrice
imprisoned, she called at the residence of the Earl of
Bath — where she had formerly often been received as
a visitor — with the intention of speaking to his family
on the vanity of the pursuits in which she had once
joined them. When she inquired for the Countess, a
servant, who recognised her, asked her to go to the

* Charles Marshall's wife was the daughter of Mary Prince, who
was another seal to the ministry of John Camm and John Audland,
when at Bristol, in 1654. Two years later she visited New England
as a minister, and, in 16G0, travelled extensively on the European
Continent with Mary Fisher. She was three times committed to
prison in her native city of Bristol, during the severe persecution
there in 16G3 and 1664.

JOHN" AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS.

43

back-door through which he said his lady would soon
so into the garden. But when she reached the back
premises a very fierce mastiff was unchained, in order
that he might attack her ; but before he reached her his
ferocity seemed to be altogether subdued, for he suddenly
turned and went away whining. Soon the Countess
came to her, and after listening to her counsel, thanked
her for it.

When Barbara Blaugdon was at Great Torrington
she was sent for by the mayor, who was not inclined
to treat her with harshness ; but a clergyman, who was
very anxious that she should be whipped as a vagabond,
succeeded in persuading him to send her to Exeter
Prison, where she was confined for some time, not being-
brought to trial when the assizes were held. One day
the sheriff came and took her to another apartment,
where a beadle, who had accompanied him, whipped
her until the blood ran down her back; meanwhile
such joy was granted her at being counted worthy to
suffer for Christ as to cause her to sing His praise.
" Do ye sing ? I will make you cry, by-and-by ! " ex-
claimed the beadle, whilst increasing the severity of
the strokes ; but so graciously and wonderfully was she
upheld, that she afterwards said that even had she been
whipped to death, in the state she then was, she should
not have been terrified nor dismayed.

The sheriff, finding how unavailing their cruelty was,,
at length bade the beadle cease striking her. He had
thought that he had only a woman to deal with in her
weakness, but found that he was fighting against God.
On the following day she was liberated. The Mayor
of Bideford, before whom she was brought, was much

44

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FHIENDS.

impressed by some serious conversation which she had
with him, and was so eager to resume it, that, when she
left the town, he followed her on horseback, and rode
three or four miles with her ; before parting she knelt
down and prayed for him. Apparently her influence
was blessed to him ; once, after leaving the county, she
wrote him a letter, which he received not long before
his death.

In the winter of the following year, 1655, Barbara
Blaugdon crossed to Ireland. The vessel in which she
sailed was in great peril from a tremendous storm, which
the superstitious sailors attributed to the presence of a
Friend, and conspired to throw her overboard. When
she became aware of their design, she successfully
appealed to the captain for protection, saying that, if he
permitted such a deed, her blood would be required at
his hands. The tempest continued, and as the chaplain
was too much terrified to hold the usual service, Barbara
Blaugdon went on deck, feeling that it was her duty to
address the crew and pray for them. They were very
grave and quiet, and afterwards remarked that they
were " more beholden " to her than to their chaplain.

On landing at Dublin she went to the house of the
Viceroy, but was told that it would be useless to seek
for an interview with him, as only on the previous day
he had banished Edward Burrough and Francis Howgill
from the island ; but after a while she was shown into
a drawing-room, and a gentleman came to her from the
Deputy's chamber, before whom those who accompanied
him stood uncovered. Notwithstanding this artifice she
was convinced that he was not the Deputy but a clergy-
man ; and, when asked by those present why she did not

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS.

45

speak to their lord, replied, " When I see your lord, then
I shall give my message to him." Ere long the Viceroy
made his appearance, and after he had seated himself
on a couch she addressed him, bidding him beware lest
he should be fighting against God by opposing His
cause and persecuting the innocent ; at the same time
expressing her belief that he was not so much in fault as
were those who instigated him to this conduct. He was
evidently impressed by her solemn words ; and when
she spoke of how the teachers of the people caused
them to err, he said to the clergyman, " There's for you,
Mr. Harrison ! " and afterwards asked him what reply
he could make her. " It is all very true and very good,"
he said, " and I have nothing to say against it if she
speaks as she means." Barbara Blaugdon answered that
the Spirit of God was true and spoke as He meant, but
men of corrupt minds perverted the Scriptures by put-
ting their own construction on them and deceiving those
they taught ; but the Scriptures were of no private in-
terpretation, being written by holy men of God as they
were inspired by the Holy Ghost. She was told that
the Viceroy was so much impressed that after she left
him he declined joining in bowls or any similar pastime.

From Dublin she went to Cork, where some of her
relatives and acquaintances dwelt ; frequent were her
imprisonments, though whenever she preached there
were some who willingly received her message, whilst
many of her former friends trembled at her words of
warning. Once, when she was addressing the people
in a market-place, a butcher swore he would cleave her
head ; but whilst lifting his cleaver to do so a woman
seized his arms, and presently some soldiers came to the

46

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS.

rescue. On her next voyage to Ireland the ship foun-
dered near Dungarvan, and she had a most narrow escape
of her life, but was providentially saved by the bravery
of the captain and one of the sailors.

In Dublin she suffered much in a filthy prison, having
given great offence by a religious exhortation to the
judges in a court of justice. After a while she was
arraigned at the bar, and when requested to plead Guilty
or Not Guilty, answered that there was no guilt upon
anyone's conscience for what was done in obedience to
God. But as this was not considered a satisfactory
answer she was sent back to prison. Here she was
visited by some of her friends, Sir William King,
Colonel Fare, and Lady Brown, who afterwards went to
the judge to try to obtain her release ; they laughed
when he told them, in allusion to Barbara Blaugdon,
that he was afraid of his life— saying they had known
her from childhood, and were so strenuous in their
efforts for her liberation that they at last secured it.

After she was set free she spoke very solemnly to
the judge, who died the same night. A short time pre-
viously he had condemned six persons to death on a
charge of murder, five of whom were apparently in-
nocent ; for the only witness against them, when accused
by Barbara Blaugdon, who shared the same prison, con-
fessed, while trembling exceedingly, that his evidence
was altogether false ; and he once made the same
admission to the judge, to whom Barbara Blaugdon
wrote, begging him to take care that he did not condemn
the guiltless, also telling him that the day of his death
was at hand, and reminding him that he would have
to render an account of his actions. But he took no

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS.

47

notice of this remonstrance. At Limerick, also, Barbara
Blaugdon found imprisonment awaiting her; on her
homeward voyage she was robbed of all she had by the
crew of a privateer, but reached England in safety at
last.

The latest allusion made to her by the historian Sewel
is in reference to her being amongst the one hundred
and fifteen Friends who were imprisoned at Bristol in
1682, whilst, in the face of threats and persecution, the
meetings in that city were kept up by the children with
wonderful faith and courage. During John Audland
and John Cramm's remarkable visit there (twenty-eight
years earlier), we find that George Bishop and Josiah
Coale were also amongst those who "received their
testimony."

In 1664, George Bishop published the following brief
address which was delivered to Charles II. and his
Parliament : —

" To the King and both Houses of Parliament ; thus saith
the Lord :

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

" Written, in obedience to the Lord, by his servant,

" George Bishop.
"Bristol, 25th of Ninth Month, 1664.

It will be remembered that the Great Plague visited
London in the following year. Whilst the pestilence
was at its height the Friends were less frequently
banished than before ; from his prison in Bristol
George Bishop sent them a letter exhorting them to
stand fast in the Lord, and assuring them that if they

48

JOHN AUDLAXD AND HIS FRIENDS.

were exiled God would protect them whilst they were
faithful to Him, — that " none should root them out,
but .that they should be planted and built up." At
an earlier date he wrote a book oivinc; an account of
the cruel persecution of the Friends in New England,
in which he quoted Major-General Denison's words to
those who ventured to remonstrate with him, — " This
year ye will go to complain to the Parliament, and
the next year they will send to see how it is ; and the
third year the Government will be changed ! " When
this passage was read to the King he was much struck
by it, and calling some of his courtiers to hear it he
exclaimed, " So ! these are some of my good subjects
of New England, but I will put a stop to them ! " And
when, after William Ledra's execution at Boston,
Edward Burrough besought him to put an end to
such proceedings by sending a mandamus thither, he
yielded to his request.

Josiah Coale was about twenty-one when the power-
ful ministry of Audland and Camm proved an effectual
message to his soul. " I saw," he says, " that my heart
was polluted, and that there was no habitation for God,
which caused me to mourn in desolation, and to wander
in solitary places, until I was ready to faint ; and I said
in my heart, Never man's sorrow was like my sorrow.
... If Thou, 0 God," was now his cry, " wilt help me
thoroughly, then will I teach transgressors Thy ways,
and sinners shall be converted unto Thee." This was
no vain vow ; it became his " life and joy " to declare
the Gospel, and, with lips touched as with a live coal,
he laboured valiantly for his Lord, at home and
abroad ; on one occasion travelling with two other

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS.

49

Friends from Virginia to New England through vast
wildernesses and dense forests which had been thought
impenetrable to all but the Indians, who treated the
white strangers most kindly, although they had pre-
viously been greatly exasperated by Europeans. Yet
their lives were often endangered by the neighbourhood
of beasts of prey and serpents, by the marshes which in-
tercepted their path, and the effects of hunger and cold.

Amongst some of the aboriginal tribes of Massa-
chusetts, especially, Joshua Coale discovered true
yearnings after God. "Through the goodness of the
Lord," he writes, " we found these Indians more sober
and Christian-like towards us than the Christians so-
called." After his release from Sandwich gaol, the
youthful minister laboured amongst the Algonquins,
whose king said to him, " The Englishmen do not
love the Quakers, but the Quakers are honest men,
and do no harm ; and this is no Englishman's sea or
land, and Quakers shall come here and welcome."

Two or three years later, when imprisoned in Lon-
don, he writes : — " Though great suffering and afflic-
tions attended, as yet my heart praised be the Lord
is not troubled, neither has fear seized me, because
I see the intent of the Lord in it. . . . For the sake
of the residue of the seed which is yet ungathered is
my life freely sacrificed into the hand of the Lord.
... So let your prayer unto God be for me that I
may be kept unto the end, and finish my course with
joy, and in all things bring glory and honour to the
name of the Lord." He died at the age of thirty-
five, cheerfully laying down his life, we are told,
" With perfect understanding, and in an extraordinary

E

50

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS.

enjoyment of the Lord's life, majesty, and presence."
Amongst the many hundreds who attended his funeral
was Sewel, the historian, who, young as he then was,
greatly loved and revered Josiah Coale, and highly
appreciated his kindness ; always availing himself of
opportunities to attend meetings where it was said that
he would be present.

In 1656, two years after they had held the memor-
able succession of meetings at Bristol, John Camm,
and John Audland revisited that city. They were
devoted friends, and had in the meantime often travelled
together, whilst much blessing rested on their labours
for their Lord* In consequence of the delicacy of
John Camm's health his son Thomas often accompanied
him. The strain on the voice and chest in large meetings,
especially when held out of doors, were greater than
John Camm's consumptive constitution could withstand,
and he did not long survive his second visit to Bristol.
As his strength slowly ebbed away he told his friends
that his "inward man revived and mounted upward
towards its habitation in the heavens."

On the day of his death, at the age of fifty-two, after
addressing his family, he seemed to be in a sweet sleep,
from which they thought he would never awake. But,
hearing their loud lamentations, he said, " Dear hearts
ye have wronged me, for I was at sweet rest ; ye should
not so passionately sorrow for my departure ; this
house of earth and clay must go to its place ; and this
soul and spirit is to be gathered up to the Lord to live

* Elizabeth Stirrpdge, of whom there is a sketch in this volume,
was another on whose mind an indelible impression was made by
the ministry of John Audland.

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS.

51

with Him for ever, where we shall meet with ever-
lasting joy." Then, once more taking leave, he lay
down and soon expired. His birthplace was Camsgill,
Westmoreland, the ancestral seat of his family. From
childhood he had been seriously inclined, and, like
Audland, had eagerly received the truths taught by
George Fox, when he visited their native county in
1652. At that time, we learn from his son, " the world
seemed to smile upon him, and the riches and glory of
it had exceeding increased and were then likely to
increase more." But he willingly counted all things
loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ
Jesus his Lord. He was a powerful minister, and was
one of the Friends who visited London in 1654, and
published the doctrines of our Society there.

John Audland keenly felt his death, though he found
comfort in the companionship of Thomas Camm, who was
often his associate in Gospel service. John Audland
died at the age of thirty-four, his life being doubtless
shortened by the hardships and persecution which he
had endured ; for, in addition to close imprisonments,
we find allusions to " great perils, sore beatings, and cruel
mockings — both of the rabble and also of the bitter-
spirited professors." He was very patient during his
illness, and often said, " Ah ! those great meetings in the
orchard at Bristol, I may not forget ! I would so gladly
have spread my net over all, and have gathered all, that
I forgot myself, never considering the weakness of my
body.* But it's well. My reward is with me, and I am

* In a letter written by Francis Howgill to Edward Burrough,
when in London in 1G5G, he says : — " From Bristol we have received
letters from our dear brethren John Audland and John Camm ; the

52

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS.

content to give up and be with the Lord ; for that my
soul values above all things."

Notwithstanding his weakness, marvellous power
was granted him to make the friends who visited him
in some measure sharers of his joy and overwhelming
sense of the love of God, with whose praise his heart
was filled. As his strength failed he asked to be raised
up in order to kneel, and then fervently besought the
Lord that His whole heritage might be preserved in the
Truth, out of the evil of the world. Though tenderly
sympathising with his beloved wife he said to her, " My
will is in true subjection to the will of the Lord, whether
life or death ; and therefore give me up freely to His
disposing." And she, we read, " how dear soever he
was to her, did so." Ten days after his death she became
the mother of a little boy.

In reference to her loss she writes : — " The Eternal
God revealed His Son Christ in us, and gave us faith to
believe in Him, the eternal Word of Life, by which our
souls came to be quickened and made alive. . . . Our
hearts were knit together in the unspeakable love of
Truth, which was our life, joy, and delight, and made
our days together exceeding comfortable. The dolour

mighty power of the Lord is that way : this is a precious city and a
gallant people ; their net is like to break with fishes, they have
caught so much there, and all the coast thereabout. Mighty is His
work and power in this His day ! Shout for joy all ye holy ones !
for the Lord rides on in power to get Himself a name." Another
letter, with a similar signature, contains a reference to the same
Friends : — " Our hearts were broken in separating one from another,
for our lives are bound up in one, and we partake of one another's
sufferings and of one another's joy." Like John Audland, Francis
Howgill had been an eager recipient of George Fox's message at
Firbank Chapel, and had found that the seed then sown in his soul
was destined to bring forth a hundredfold.

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS.

53

of my heart my tongue or pen is not able to declare ;
yet in this I contented myself that it was the will of the
Lord." Anne Audland afterwards became the wife of
Thomas Camra, and for forty years, "in the utmost
harmony and nearness of affection," they mutually served
their Lord and suffered for His sake. Once he was
imprisoned at Appleby for six years, and again at Kendal
for three. But trials seemed only to fan the flame of
devotion in the heart of his wife, who was greatly gifted
as a minister : she spent much time alone in fervent
prayer, and in reading the Scriptures and religious
books. Humble and retiring herself, she was always
ready to encourage the weakest of the flock. During
a very severe illness she spoke of how she had enjoyed
unspeakable peace here, as well as the full assurance of
everlasting joy.

In the autumn of 1705, when in her seventy-ninth
year, in a farewell sermon at a Monthly Meeting at
Kendal, she implored her friends to be diligent in the
service of God. The following day she was attacked by
the illness which ended her life. After begging her hus-
band to give her up freely, she added, " I have loved
thee with my soul and God has blessed us, and will bless
thee and be with thee, and make up all thy losses. . . .
I am full of assurance of eternal salvation and a crown
of glory, through my dear Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ."

She spoke of how much she had desired to send a
farewell epistle to Friends at Bristol and Banbury,
" tenderly to advise professors of Truth to keep under
the power of the Cross of Christ, by which they will be
more and more crucified to the world, and baptised into
Christ, and put Him on, the new and heavenly man, in

54

JOHN AUDLAND AND HIS FRIENDS.

whom they will become new creatures and be enabled to
serve God in spirit/' As she grew worse, her husband
suggested sending for one or two of her relatives, but
she answered, " Be not careful in the matter ; the Lord
my God is near me and I have thy company, and it is
enough. . . . The Lord gave us to each other ; let us
bless His name, if He now take us from each other in
the outward, that is all, for our joining in spirit remains
for ever."

One of the earnest messages she left was for her
" prodigal son," asking his stepfather still to labour and
pray for his return. Some of her last words were, " My
hope is only in Thee, my dear Lord."

When, more than fifty years earlier, George Fox was
enabled to sow the good seed of faith at Firbank Chapel
did he forsee the marvellous results which would
directly or indirectly arise therefrom !

Though the rough blasts of persecution in that age
caused Quakerism to take deeper root, can there be any
need that it should droop and wither in the sunshine
of this ?

" New to the world at every hour,
New runners find new races,"

yet are the conditions of discipleship the same as ever
they were. From one source, and one alone, must
vitality ever spring, and Jesus Christ is the same, yester-
day, to-day, and for ever ; a Saviour who can inspire
the heart with " a love so deep as to make obedience a
delight."

EDWARD BU^F^OUQH.

" Consecrating the whole manhood, and not merely a few facul-
ties' thereof, to God." — Charles Kingsley.

EDWARD BURROUGH.

" There is no created force in the universe greater than a feeble
human soul that in simple faith yields up itself wholly to its Saviour
as the mere instrument of His mighty power."

" I have loved Thee from my cradle — from my
youth unto this day ; and have served Thee faithfully
in my generation," were the words of that devoted
follower of his crucified Lord, Edward Burrough, when
at the age of twenty-eight he laid down his life in
Newgate, a victim to the frightfully pestilential air
of the gaol, where in one room nearly one hundred
Friends were confined with a large number of felons.
A fuller record of his inner life, pourtraying more
plainly the hidden source of the wonderful outward
one, would have been of deep interest, but he seems
to have written comparatively little of himself in any
way. Edward Burrough's ministry began at the age
of eighteen, and, young as he was, it is evident that
he had in all reality learnt by heart the lessons which
it was his Lord's design that he should be instrumental,
in no common measure, in impressing on others. The
messenger whose own soul dwells in the subject of
his message cannot but speak with force of the things
which, with the eye and ear of faith, he has seen
and heard.

Edward Burrough was born at Underbarrow, in
Westmoreland, in 1634; his parents, who were mem-

58

EDWARD BURRO UGH.

bers of the Church of England, gave him a good
education. He writes concerning his early life : —

" When I grew up towards twelve years of age something
stirred in me, and showed me that there was a higher religion
than that I was exercised in. ... I got to be a Presby-
terian, and followed the highest of the priests and professors
of that form, and grew in favour with them. Then I left
some little of my vanity and lightness, and pride grew up in
me. When I was about seventeen it pleased God to show
Himself a little to me, and something struck me with terror.

At this time I was much separated from

the vain ways of the world and from worldly people. The
preaching of those whom I had formerly much delighted in
was withered and decayed. Yet it pleased the Lord to show
Himself in love to me, and I had sweet refreshment coming
in from Him to my soul, and had joy and peace in abundance,
and openings of the living truth in me which the world
knew not of. The mystery of the Scriptures was something
opened, and I saw many glorious things which lie hid under
the letter. ... I was brought out of the land of darkness,
and could say I was in the light. But not knowing the
cross of Christ I ran forth in my wisdom comprehending the
mysteries of God. . . . Pride grew more than ever, and
my delight was much in discoursing where I gave holy
things unto dogs, and cast pearls before swine. . . . The
earthly spirit ruled. I had left the Lord my Maker, who
had so graciously made Himself manifest to me. I could
tell of experiences, but they were dead to me, and something
within began to question how it was with me ; for I saw
myself to be ignorant more than formerly, and I saw that I
knew nothing."

He greatly longed for the peace which had once been
his portion, for he found that it was in vain to try to
comfort himself, as he would fain have done, with
the doctrine — very prevalent amongst the Calvinistic
Puritans — " Whom God loves once, He loves for ever."
He saw the shallowness of much of the religion pro-

EDWARD BURROUGH.

59

fessed by those around him, and felt that something
of a very different nature would be needed to satisfy
the cravings of his soul. It was at this crisis, and
when he was about eighteen years old, that George
Fox came to Underbarrow, and the young student con-
fessed that this faithful servant of the Lord " spoke the
language which he knew not, notwithstanding all his
high talking ; " yet, unwilling to " endure the sound
doctrine, he at first turned away his ears from the
truth," endeavouring to refute it by skilful arguments.
But these half-unconscious efforts to fight against God
were unavailing. He soon saw the agreement of
George Fox's teaching with the Scriptures, and the
Holy Spirit showed him the state of his own heart ;
this sight was followed by a time of weeping, mourning,
and misery. " One vial of wrath after another," he
writes, " was poured out, and then I separated from all
the glory of the world and betook myself to the com-
pany of a poor, despised, and condemned people called
Quakers. . . . But praised, praised be the Lord for
evermore, who made me partaker of His love, in
whom my soul hath full satisfaction, joy, and content."
In Christ he had peace, and therefore could be of good
cheer whilst in the world he had tribulation.

His parents were so incensed at his joining the
Friends that they forbade his remaining in the family,
and even refused his request to work for them as a
servant. Unchristian and cruel as this conduct was
at best, one must not forget that to them Quakerism
seemed a dangerous heresy, and they knew that its
upholders were in that day despised and condemned
not only by members of the Church of England but

60

EDWARD BURROUGH.

oy Dissenters also. Almost at once Edward Burrough
felt that he was called of God to the ministry of the
Gospel. Writing of his friends and himself he says : —

" We tried all sorts of teachers, as many do at this day,
and remain not gathered to the Lord. Such we were that
sought the Lord and desired the knowledge of His ways more
than anything beside. For one I may speak, who from a
child, even a few years old, set his face to seek and find the
Saviour. After our long seeking the Lord appeared to us,
and revealed His glory in us, and gave us of His Spirit. . . .
We found this light to be a sufficient teacher to lead us to
Christ, from whom it came ; and it gave us to receive Christ,
and to witness Him to dwell in us. . . . We harkened to the
voice of the Lord, and felt His word in our hearts to burn
up and to heat down all that was contrary to God. Whilst
waiting upon the Lord in silence, which we often did for
many hours together, with our hearts towards Him, . . .
we often received the pouring down of His Spirit upon us,
and our hearts were made glad, and our tongues loosened.
Things unutterable were made manifest, and the glory of the
Father was revealed. Then we began to sing praises to the
Lord God Almighty, and to the Lamb who had redeemed us
to God."

What was this hut a realisation of the prophet's words
" Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse that there
may he meat in mine house, and prove me now here-
with, said the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the
windows of heaven and pour you out a blessing that
there shall not be room enough to receive it " ?

In company with others who had, like himself, been
deeply reached by the ministry of George Fox, and had
willingly given up the world for Christ, Edward Borrough
visited the Northern counties of England and some
parts of Scotland. In that " day of good tidings " how
could they hold their peace, though their onward path
led them through perils and prisons, and brought " beat-

EDWARD BURROUGH.

61

ings and bruisings " upon them ? It was not possible
that such labour should be in vain in the Lord ; and
there were many who showed the reality of the change
wrought in their hearts, by willingness to join a people
who met with persecution on every side. Places of
public worship, markets, and streets, alike witnessed
the ministerial work of Edward Burrough, who was
enabled very strikingly to discern the spiritual state of
those to whom his words were directed. "Whilst in prison
he prepared a paper called " A Warning from the Lord,''
at the end of which he thus addressed his suffering
brethren : " Be glad and rejoice in the Lord, for you
hath He chosen to shine as lights in the world, and to
be a burdensome stone to the nations."

In the spring of 1654, Edward Burrough came to
London. One of the first Friends who had visited this
city was Gervaise Benson, a justice of the peace, who in
the previous year told George Fox, in a letter, that he
had been brought there by the love of God, and was
kept there waiting on the Lord, to do whatever He
might require of him. A little before this time some
works written by Friends had been published in the
Metropolis, printed, we learn, " For Giles Calvert, and
sold at his shop at the Black Spread Eagle, at the West
end of Paul's." Many persons who had heard of the
rise and growth of the Society of Friends in the North
of England wished to know more about them, and to
such Gervaise Benson's attention was turned. Soon
afterwards, Isabel Buttery came from the North to dis-
tribute in London a paper by George Fox, on " The
Kingdom of Heaven." Whilst engaged in this work one
Sunday evening in St. Paul's Churchyard, she was

62

EDWAKD BURIiOUGII.

brought before the Lord Mayor, and committed by him
to Bridewell for the offence of Sabbath-breaking ! There
she and a maid-servant who had been with her were
lodged in the common gaol, where only those of the
lowest character were usually confined. At this period
the first meetings of Friends were held in London, in the
houses of two brothers named Dring, and were often
times of silent waiting on the Lord, though occasionally
a little was said by Isabel Buttery.

It was with Francis Howgill (who was about sixteen
years older than himself) that Edward Burrough entered
London. So greatly was his ministry blessed that many
hundreds were effectually brought to the knowledge of
the Lord. Having experienced much of Christ's teaching
in his own soul, he was made skilful in speaking the
word in season to others, Thomas Ellwood describes
him as " bold in his Master's quarrels, yet open and free
to every thirsty lamb ; " and he has been styled a Son of
Thunder, yet withal a Son of Consolation. His eloquence
and his powerful voice, like all else, were consecrated to
his Saviour's cause, and from Francis Howgill we learn
that, " Ofttimes buffetted, and sometimes knocked down,
loaded with lies, bearing an exceeding weight of service,
he made the work of the Lord his whole business," not
spending even one week for himself during the ten years
which lay between his conversion and his early death.

The "subtle spirit of the Londoners " was at first dis-
heartening to these preachers from the Northern dales ;
but it could prove no insurmountable obstacle, for they
came " in the name of the Lord of Hosts," who so gave
the increase, that ere long they could say, " Hundreds
are convinced and thousands wait to see the issue ; very

EDWARD BURROUGH.

63

many societies we have visited are now able to stand."
One incident is so characteristic of the age and of this
young champion of the Cross, that even in this short
sketch we cannot pass it by.

At London, Sewell tells us, it was usual in the sum-
mer evenings for many young men, on leaving work, to
meet in the fields to show their strength in wrestling,
to a crowd of eager onlookers ; passing near the ring at
Moorfields, Edward Burrough, then about twenty years
of age, stood still and saw how a strong and skilful
youth, who had already thrown three combatants, vainly
challenged others, none of whom would venture to enter
the lists. At this crisis Edward Burrough stepped for-
ward, whilst with bated breath the bystanders watched
the issue, not knowing that " it was quite another fight
he aimed at."

Little was the successful wrestler prepared for such
an adversary as now opposed him, and he quailed under
the steadfast gaze and crushing words of one whose
strength had been sharply tested in the conflict with
spiritual wickedness. Presently his powerful voice, a
fitting medium for the overwhelming words of his
message from on high, was heard driving home to the
hearts of the wondering and spell-bound multitude the
reality of the " good fight of faith," as "he reasoned of
righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come."
Seemingly the seed was sown in stony ground, yet none
cared to continue the sports, and the crowd separated ;
some to confess afterwards that this season had been the
turning-point in their lives.

Whilst Edward Burrough and Francis Howgill were
still in London they were thus addressed in a letter

64

EDWARD BURKOUGH.

from George Fox : — " Stir abroad whilst the door is-
open, and the light shineth. The Lord give you an
understanding in all things, and His arm go along with
you that ye may be to His glory. Dear Francis and
Edward, in the life of God wait, that ye may with it be
led, . . . that as good plow-men and good thresher-men
ye may be able to bring out the wheat."

How well Edward Burrough heeded this counsel we
may learn from the Autobiography of William Crouch,
who, although six years his senior, says that the
spiritual relation in which he stood to him was that
of a child to a father. " He was a man — though but
young — of undaunted courage." William Crouch writes,
" The Lord set him above the fear of his enemies, and
I have beheld him filled with power by the Spirit of
the Lord. For instance, at the Bull and Mouth, when
the room, which was very large, hath been filled with
people many of whom have been in uproars, contending
one with another, some exclaiming against the Quakers,
accusing and charging them with heresy, blasphemy,
sedition, and what not ; that they were deceivers and
deluded the people ; that they denied the Holy Scrip-
tures, and the resurrection : others endeavouring to
vindicate them, and speaking of them more favourably.
In the midst of all which noise and contention, this
servant of the Lord hath stood upon a bench, with a
Bible in his hand, for he generally carried one about
him, speaking to the people with great authority. . . .
And so suitable to the present debate among them, that
the whole multitude was overcome thereby, and became
exceeding calm and attentive, and departed peaceably
and with seeming satisfaction."

EDWARD BURROUGH.

65

Two distinct kinds of meetings were then held in
London. In one of these the Friends gathered quietly-
together in the name of Christ the great Head of the
Church, to worship the Father in Spirit and in truth,
that the strength which was ofttimes severely strained
might be renewed, that their sinking souls might
mount up as on eagles' wings, and that, with hearts
enlarged by the more conscious indwelling of the Com-
forter, they might run and not be weary, and walk
— though through much tribulation — and not faint.
In this time of our outward ease have we, their
successors, less need than they for putting on the
inward armour ?

The other class of meetings were " for all sorts and
all sects," and were often very large ; the service resting,
as George Fox suggested, " on three, or four, or six
Friends who were grown up and strong in the Truth."
With such workmen, —the secret language of whose
souls was, " We have no might, neither know we what
to do, but our eyes are upon Thcc ; " willing to wait,
whilst willing also at their Master's bidding to go
forward in faith ; " steadfast, unmovable, always abound-
ing in the work of the Lord," because in Him their life
was hid, — it was no marvel that many should be added
to the Church.* " When we see such multitudes,"
writes Francis Howgill, " we are often put to a stand
where one might get bread to satisfy so many ; but the
wisdom and power of God has been with us." Very
many eagerly drank in the words of these earnest
Gospel ministers, who spoke in demonstration of the

* Twenty-five years later there were 10,000 Friends in London alone.

F

66

EDWARD BURROUGH.

Spirit and of power; for their doctrine was no new
thing, but the uplifting of Christ as the Light of the
World, as being made unto man " wisdom and righte-
ousness, sanctification and redemption ; " as bearing
" our sins in His own body on the tree, that we, being
dead to sins, should live unto righteousness."

In the summer of 1654 Edward Burrough and Francis
Howgill went to Bristol, where persecution was already
threatened. A meeting held in the Castle was attended
by several hundreds. When it was over they went for
rest to the country house of a captain in the army,
whither they were followed by so many anxious to
converse with them that the house was filled. Meetings
were held daily in and around the city, which were
largely attended, and on which the Divine blessing mani-
festly rested. The following Sunday morning they were
in the city in the dwelling of a military officer ; but his
house proving quite too small to hold all who came, they
went in the afternoon to the Fort, where about 2,000
persons assembled, including many of the chief people
of the place. The company was a very quiet one ; but when
leaving the spot Edward Burrough and Francis Howgill
were so pressed by the awakened crowd as to be glad to
turn aside into a private room. The following day they
were summoned before the mayor, aldermen, justices of
the peace, and clergy. Many officers and other gentle-
men, whose hearts had been touched by their ministry,
accompanied them, but were not allowed to be present
during their examination. When asked why they came
to the city, they answered, " By the command of the
Lord, to whose name we have to bear witness, and to
declare the Gospel committed unto us." On being

EDWARD BURROUGH.

67

ordered to quit the town, they said, " We are freeborn
Englishmen, and have served the commonwealth in
faithfulness, being free in the presence of God from
the transgression of any law. To your command we
cannot be obedient ; but if by violence you put us out of
the city, and have power to do it, we cannot resist."

For a while longer they laboured in Bristol, and
apparently without further interference. During this
time some Baptists, from a town in Wiltshire, who had
challenged them to a public dispute, were obliged to lay
down arms, and were cowardly enough on their return
home to report that the Friends denied Christ and the
Scriptures. When, therefore, the two Friends visited
this town, its inhabitants, in their indignation, had but
a rough reception for them, though granting them leave
for a meeting in the market-place to clear themselves.
With a deep sense of their own helplessness, they drew
near the large assembly, silently seeking for strength
from Him whose promise is, " Call upon me in the day
of trouble ; I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me."
Then for two hours they spoke with irresistible authority.
That evening the mayor called on them, confessing that
they had spoken the truth, and that if he did not witness
to it his conscience would witness against him ; and a
justice of the peace asked them to his house, and was,
we learn, with his wife, " convinced of the Truth."
This meeting was the means of opening a door for
them in the county.

After a few weeks of earnest work in London, Edward
Burrough and his friend again visited the country. A
very large meeting was held in the Isle of Ely, to which
Colonel Eussell (whose son married a daughter of Oliver

68

EDWARD BURROUGH.

Cromwell) sent two ministers, who reported to him that
the Quakers were " far before " them. This led the
Colonel to invite them to his house, where, in a reli-
gious family gathering, some hearts seemed to be
touched, and the Colonel's wife shed many tears.

In the spring of 1655, Edward Burrough believed
that he was called to preach the Gospel in Ireland.
On the day of receiving this summons from on high,
whilst committing himself wholly into the hands of
God, a promise was granted him that his life should be
preserved. Unknown to him, Francis Howgill was
guided to the same field of labour, and with a convic-
tion that Edward Burrough would be his companion in
it. From Dublin, the latter — who, notwithstanding
his incessant active avocations, was a great writer —
addressed a general epistle to his brethren, whom he
styles " The camp of the Lord in England."

Of himself, in a letter to Margaret Fell, he re-
marks : " As in suffering with Christ I do abound, so
my joy by Him and consolation in Him are increased
also. . . . We have not spared to wound on the right
hand and on the left ; and ' Victory, Victory,' hath been
our word of watch." Of this visit he elsewhere writes :
" Truly great service for the Lord we had ; . . . there
is a precious work begun and seed sown, which shall
never die."

At the end of the year the two friends were placed
by force on board a vessel bound for Chester. After
travelling in the northern counties, Edward Burrough
went to London, where he was soon joined by Francis
Howgill, and, holding about twenty meetings a week,
it is not to be wondered at that he was " almost spent; "

EDWARD BURROUGH.

69

especially as much mental suffering was endured by
himself and his companion in contending with the evil
around them. In the following year, sometimes with a
prison for his study, he still freely used his pen : it is
interesting to read his unequivocal reply to Bunyan's
charge that the Friends said that " salvation was not
fully and completely wrought out for sinners by that
man Christ Jesus." He answers: "This accusation is
clearly false, and wickedly cast upon us ; for there is
not salvation in any other, nor is it wrought by any
other, but by Jesus Christ. It is hilly and completely
brought forth by Him unto everyone who believes and
receives the testimony of it in themselves." His simple
definition of faith is as follows : " Faith is an act of God
in the Creature. ... It gives the Creature to believe
God in all that He hath promised."

In an epistle of encouragement to " Such as are found
worthy to suffer," this passage is found : " Be ye more
watchful, and faithful, and valiant for the Truth upon
the earth unto the end ; that you may . . . receive the
fulfilling of the promise of God, and may witness God
within you, the Emanuel, the Saviour, God with us.
All that know this need not yo forth to the right hand nor
to the left, lat salvation is come unto us. He takes away
sin, and saves from it and from condemnation. . . .
Believe not that spirit which draws back into the world,
into its lusts and liberty and fashions, which pass away.
That Spirit forgets God." He repeatedly wrote addresses
of remonstrance to Oliver Cromwell, and in lti59 pub-
lished a very remarkable prediction of the persecutions
that awaited the persecutors of the Friends, and which
was fully verified when, in the following year, Charles

70

EDWARD BURROUGH.

II. was made king. In it he says that whilst in War-
wickshire he was one day meditating on the woful
wrongs of his people, when a cry went through him,
" The Lord will he avenged ! The Lord will be avenged
upon His enemies ! He will avenge the cause of His
people ; " accompanied with the command, " Write unto
the rulers, and yet once more warn them."

Soon after this Edward Burrough went with Samuel
Fisher to Dunkirk (which was then possessed by the
English), their object being to visit Jesuits, Friars, and
Priests. After conversation with the Capuchin Friars,
Edward Burrough sent them some queries in Latin :
" Is it an outward abstinence," he asks, " by the force
of locks, and doors, and bolts, or self-separated and
secret places, that subdues the world's nature in men
and women ? Is it by such means that Christ gives
victory over sin and overcomes it in His people ? Or
is it not by the power of God in the heart only ? "
Many meetings were held here, and opportunities were
found for satisfactory service in the army, leading Edward
Burrough to remark that he " must commend the spirit
of our Englishmen for moderation more than the men
of any other nation."

Later in the year he published a long document,
styled, "A message to the present Kulers of England,"
containing the following prophetic words : "Your estates
shall not be spared from the spoiler, nor your necks
from the axe ; your enemies shall charge treason
upon you, and if you seek to stop the Lord's work you
shall not cumber the earth very long." When in 1661,
a committee was appointed by the House of Commons
to prepare and bring in a bill to prevent any injury to

EDWAKD BU1IK0UGH.

71

the Government from Quakers, etc., refusing to take
oaths, and unlawfully convening together, Edward
Burrough, George Whitehead, and Richard Hubberthorne
obtained an interview with its members. Characteris-
tically, the last thing said to them by Edward Burrough
was that should this measure be passed, " so far from
yielding conformity thereunto, he should, through the
strength of Christ, meet among the people of God to
worship Him ; and not only so, but should make it his
business to exhort all God's people everywhere to meet
together for the worship of God, notwithstanding the
law and all its penalties ; and that he desired this might
be reported to the House " ! Well might Francis How-
gill say that " he was of a manly spirit in the things of
God."

A little later he had an audience with the king on
account of the persecuted Friends in New England, one
of whom had already been put to death ; telling the
monarch that a vein of innocent blood had been opened
in his dominions which, if it were not stopped, would
overrun all. " But I will stop that vein," was the reply.
Owing to Edward Burrough's diligence in following up
the matter, a mandamus was sent to Boston, compelling
the cruel rulers to release their innocent victims.

After labouring in the neighbourhood of his birth-
place, and visiting Thomas Ellwood who had been
deeply impressed by his ministry, and was then ill of
small-pox, in Oxfordshire, we find Edward Burrough
once more in London. Then follows a visit to the
Friends at Bristol ; both in meetings and in private he
exhorted them to " faithfulness and steadfastness to that
wherein they had found rest unto their souls," and

72

EDWARD BUKKOUGH.

solemnly bade them farewell. " I am going to the city
of London again," he said, " to lay down my life for the
Gospel, and suffer amongst Friends in that place."
Soon after his arrival he was violently arrested, whilst
preaching at the Bull and Mouth Meeting-house, and
committed by Alderman Brown to Newgate, in which
filthy and frightfully crowded gaol his friend, Bichard
Hubberthorne — of whom he wrote a memorial — died,
not long afterwards, in great peace ; " That faith which
hath wrought my salvation," he said, " I well know.
. . . Out of this straightness I must go, for I am wound
into largeness, and am to be lifted up on high, far above
all ! "

Whilst confined amongst the vilest felons, Edward
Burrough, in a letter to some of his friends in the
country, says that it would be "too large to relate, and too
piercing to their hearts to hear, the violence and cruelty
which Friends had suffered : " he begs them to be ready
also to die rather than deny Christ before men, or cease
from the free exercise of their consciences. Slightly
alluding to the extreme sufferings of his companions
and himself— easy to read of, hard to realise — he adds,
" but the Lord supports ! " King Charles, who greatly
respected him, sent an order for his release, which
Alderman Brown and others managed to evade.

It soon became manifest that neither his youth nor
strong constitution could withstand the pestilential air.
Calmly and patiently he awaited the close, night and
day praying exceedingly for himself and his people
whilst not forgetting his enemies, " Father, forgive them,
for they know not what they do." Almost his last
words were, " Though this body of clay must return to

EDWAKD burkougii.

73

the dust, yet I have a testimony that I have served God
in ray generation ; and that Spirit which has acted and
ruled in me shall yet break forth in thousands.''

Truly, those who rejoiced at his death — in the belief
that the cause which he had advocated would have been
injured or destroyed thereby — made, as Sewel says, " a
wrong reckoning." " Shall days, or months, or years,"
writes his friend Francis Howgill, " wear out thy name
as though thou hadst no being ? Oh, nay ! ... The
children that are yet unborn shall have thee in their
mouths, and thy works shall testify of thee in genera-
tions who have not yet a being and shall count thee
blessed. . . . Oh, Edward Burrough ! I cannot but
mourn for thee, yet not as one without hope or faith.
... I am distressed for thee, my brother; very pleasant
hast thou been to me, and my love to thee was won-
derful, passing the love of women."

When George Fox heard of the death of this " valiant
warrior, more than a conqueror," so he calls him, —
" being sensible how great a grief and exercise it would
be to Friends to part with him," he wrote a few lines
counselling them, in his deep spirituality, so to dwell
in Christ as to " feel dear Edward Burrough among
them," that they might thus " enjoy him in the life that
doth not change, which is invisible."

It is difficult to bear in mind that the vast and varied
labours of which this imperfect outline is given, were
accomplished between the age of eighteeu and of twenty-
eight. Without any doubt whatever, Edward Burrough
was endowed with a powerful intellect, a large amount
of energy of character, and the good gift of physical
strength : yet it would be in vain to attribute to these

74

EDWARD BURROUGH.

what Sewel speaks of as " his very glorious success."
Surely it rather lay in this : — called and chosen, and
faithful ; — conscious that, without Christ we can do
nothing, and being well aware that " There can be
nothing servile in the entire resignation of ourselves to
be taught of Him, for He is the absolute truth — nothing
unmanly in the yielding of our whole being to be wholly
moulded by Him " * — he placed himself and his all at
the disposal of his Lord.

In the words of his faithful friend, Francis Howgill,
" his very strength was bended after God."

* Archbishop Trench.

ELIZABETH $TIF(F(EDQE.

" God's love so walls us round about,
How is it possible to doubt ? " — Anon.

77

ELIZABETH STIRREDGE.

She " had a Guide, and in His steps

When travellers have trod,
Whether beneath was flinty rock

Or yielding grassy sod,
They cared not, but with force unspent,
Unmoved by pain, they onward went,
Unstayed by pleasures still they bent
Their zealous course to God."

T. T. Lynch.

" I can truly say," remarks Elizabeth Stirredge, when
describing the earlier years of her life — " That I never
coveted heaven's glory, nor to be made a partaker of the
riches, glory, and everlasting well-being for ever, more
than I desired to walk in the way that leads thereunto.
And I did as truly believe that the Lord would redeem
a people out of the world and its ways." She was born
in 1634, at Thornbury, in Gloucestershire, and was the
child of God-fearing parents, Puritans, by whom she
was very carefully brought up. The consistent life of
her father, and his fervent prayers in his family, were
long remembered by her. " There is a day coming,"
he would say, " wherein Truth will gloriously break
forth ; more glorious than ever since the apostles' days ;
but I shall not live to see it." In spite of many advan-
tages the childhood of Eliza,beth Stirredge — whose
maiden name we do not know — was far from being a
happy one. Naturally timid and pensive as she was, it
does not seem unlikely that the training which might
have suited a more vigorous mental constitution was

78

ELIZABETH STIRREDGE.

scarcely adapted to her sensitive nature. She however
gives no intimation of this herself, and probably when
looking back at her early troubles she could thankfully
set her seal to the truth of the blessed declaration, that
all things shall work together for good to them that love
God.

When only ten years old she felt that she could take
no delight in the pleasures which the world offers. As
she grew older she found satisfaction in intercourse with
some religious people, and it was very delightful to her
to listen to their conversation ; but soon her sadness
returned with the conviction that she was not living as
the people of God did in former times. Unable to find
relief in prayer, or comfort in reading the sacred Scrip-
tures, she mourned because she had not lived in the
days when the Lord spoke with Moses, in order that she
might thus have known His will, or in the days when
Christ was personally on earth, that she might have
followed Him and sat at His feet ; all unconscious that,
even in the midst of her trials, He who had loved her
with an everlasting love was drawing her into closer
fellowship with Himself than any outward one could
be. In reference to Satan's subtle snares she says : —

"The enemy will befool as many as he can, therefore look
unto the Lord, and pray unto Him in the inward of your
minds, though you cannot utter one word : know it assuredly
that He is near to help His afflicted children at all times. Oh
that I had known this in my young and tender years when
the Lord was near me, and at work in my heart, and I knew
it not ! . . . I had many times a concern upon my mind
which brought great heaviness over my spirit ; but I knew
not what it was, and I little thought it was the Lord who
was ever good and gracious, kind, merciful, and slow to
anger. I little thought He looked so narrowly to my ways. . .

ELIZABETH STIRREDGE.

79

Hf. took me bij the hand and led me when I knew not of it ;
and if I had not hearkened unto the enemy all would have
been well."

When Elizabeth Stirredge was twenty years of age,
she attended a meeting held by John Audland and
John Camm. The ministry of the former sank to
the bottom of her heart ; and, leaving her companions,
she walked home alone, the cry of her soul being,
" What shall I do to be saved ? I would do anything
for the assurance of everlasting life." Her earnest
aspirations for a new heart could but be answered by
Him who had redeemed her with His precious blood.
To her children, in after years, she writes that they may
" know the way to heaven's glory and to the enjoyment
of true peace and satisfaction, because it is a straight
and narrow way ; " and she begs them to keep their
hearts with all diligence, in order that they may be
brought nearer and nearer unto the Lord and "row in
fellowship with Him. " My very aim," she adds, " is
to make you a little acquainted with the work of the
Lord in my heart, and also with the subtle devices of
the enemy ; . . . his way is to set baits according unto
people's nature, for therein he is most likely to prevail.
And because I was of a sad heart and very subject to
be cast down, therefore did he with all his might
endeavour to cast me down into despair ; . . . many
things he cast before me that seemed too hard for me
to go through." The precious consciousness of the
comforting and sustaining presence of her Saviour
which had for a while been her joy was withdrawn ; and
Satan insinuated that the sorrow which she felt at the
loss of this sweet fellowship was most sinful, and

80

ELIZABETH STIKREDGE.

that the fate of the murmurer was to fall in the
wilderness.

Just at this time William Dewsbury [of whom there
is a sketch in this volume] visited Gloucestershire. His
soul was especially drawn out in sympathy for those
who were passing through such sorrow as had at one
time well-nigh overwhelmed himself. After hearing
his comforting language in meeting, Elizabeth Stirredge
felt a great longing to open her heart a little to him :
and yet imagining that, stranger though he was, an
insight would be given him of her spiritual state, she
feared that he would speak to her about the hardness of
her heart, and that such an additional affliction as this
would be more than she could bear. She was not mis-
taken in supposing that he would understand her case-
Before she had reached the spot where he stood the
word in season was spoken. " Dear lamb ! " he said,
"judge all thoughts and believe, for blessed are they
that believe and see not. They were blessed that saw
and believed, but more blessed are they that believe and
see not." " Oh," she writes, " he was one that had good
tidings for me in that day, and great power was with his
testimony ; for the hardness was taken away, and my
heart was opened by that ancient power that opened the
heart of Lydia : everlasting praises be given unto Him
that sits upon the throne for ever."

She seems simply to have accepted the truth that
" emotion is not faith ; " that when feeling is at its
lowest ebb, faith — even from the fact of this great strain
on it — may grow the stronger. " I can only say," she
remarks, "that my heart and soul delighted in judg-
ments. The Lord's end in chastening His children is

ELIZABETH STIKREDGE.

81

to make them fit for His service." Not long afterwards
Elizabeth Stirredge met with Miles Halhead, another
minister in the newly-formed Society of Friends. Look-
ing at her, he said, " Dear child, if thou continue in
Truth, thou wilt make an honourable woman for the
Lord ; for the Lord God will honour thee with His
blessed testimony." Ten years later, and soon after she
felt called on to speak in meetings, he was again the
bearer of a message to her soul. " My love and life is
with thee," he said, "and that for the blessed work's
sake that is at work in thee. The Lord keep thee faith-
ful, for He will require hard things of thee that thou
art not aware of : the Lord give thee strength to perform
it ; my prayers shall be for thee as often as I remember
thee."

The cruel persecution to which the Friends were
exposed had no terror for her on her own account, for
her heart, she says, " was given up to serve the Lord,
come what would come ; " and she found that He in
whom she trusted not only supported her under grievous
trials, but so sanctified them as to cause her to rejoice
that she was counted worthy to suffer for His sake.

In the year 1670 she was for a while deeply dis-
tressed ; it seemed to be her duty to write an address to
King Charles II., and to present it to him in person.
Such a service seemed to her strange and wonderful,
and, having a very low estimate of her own spiritual
and mental gifts, she tried to think that Satan was
endeavouring to ensnare her into something better
suited to a wise and good man, and prayed that a more
simple task might be assigned to her. But such sore
sorrow followed this unwillingness that she was led to

G

82

ELIZABETH STIRREDGE.

cry, " Lord, if Thou hast found me worthy, make my
way plain before me, and I will follow Thee ; for, Lord,
Thou knowest that I would not willingly offend Thee."
Yet, being now a wife and mother, most naturally, her
heart yearned for her little children, and shrank from
the thought that she might not perhaps be allowed to
return to her family alive. But He who

" Never yet forsook at need

The soul that trusted Him indeed,"

comforted her with this assurance, If thou canst believe,
thou shalt see all things accomplished, and thou shale
return in peace, and thy reward shall be with thee. The
address was a very brief one, a solemn warning of what
would be the consequences of the bloodshed and perse-
cution of the righteous. This she placed in the King's
hands whilst saying, " Hear, 0 King, and fear the Lord
God of heaven and earth." He turned pale, but only
answered in a sorrowful tone, "I thank you, good woman."
On coming back to her family she found them well.
" The Lord," she writes, afforded me His living presence
to accompany me, which is the greatest comfort that
can be enjoyed, and my coming home was with joy and
peace in my bosom."

Not long afterwards a constable and other officers
entered the shop of her husband, James Stirredge, to
exact a fine from him for the attendance of himself and
his wife at the meetings of Friends. This he declined
to pay, at the same time saying that had he owed the
King anything he would surely have repaid him. The
constable leant his head on his hand, and remarked that
it would be against his conscience to take their goods

ELIZABKTH STIRREDGE.

83

from them. Elizabeth Stirredge, on hearing this, said,
" John, have a care of wronging thy conscience; for
what could the Lord do more for thee than to place His
good Spirit in thy heart to teach thee what thou shouldst
do and what thou shouldst leave undone ? " He
answered that he knew not how to act ; for, although
he might take their goods once, the matter would not
end there whilst they continued to go to meetings, as
never had there been such laws. She replied, " John,
when thou hast wronged thy conscience and brought a
burden on thy spirit, it is not the rulers can remove it
from thee. If thou shouldst say, I have done that
which was against my conscience to do ; they may
say, as the rulers did to Judas, ' What is that to us ?
see thou to that.' " The officers, however, who were
with him seized some of the goods, but with trem-
bling hands, and compelled a poor man to carry
them. " You force me," he said, " to do that which you
cannot do yourselves, neither can I." When, a little
later, a meeting was held to appraise the goods which
had been taken from Friends, Elizabeth Stirredge felt,
as she sat at work in her husband's shop, that it would
be right for her to go to the room where the justices
and others were assembled. She did not at all know
why this was required of her, but the impression of duty
became stronger while she hesitated. On entering the
apartment she silently took a seat just within the door:
some of those present repeatedly said that they could
not go on with the business whilst she was with them,
and ordered the owner of the house to turn her out; but
he replied that he could not lay hands on her, which
made one of the justices leave the room in a violent

84

ELIZABETH STIRREDGE.

passion. On his return, " The power of the Lord," she
writes, " fell on me with a very dreadful warning
amongst them." A short time after this, two of the
company died suddenly in the midst of the joviality of
a feast.

In the year 1670 the persecution reached such a
height, that it was at the risk of life itself that the
Friends held their meetings. Grievous, indeed, was the
outward suffering of those days, yet to Elizabeth
Stirredge and many others this caused far less sorrow
than did the unfaithfulness of a few of their brethren.
As the door of the meeting-house was nailed up, the
iisual attenders felt it right to assemble outside : a bailiff
and other officers, followed by an angry crowd, came
with clubs to disperse the quiet congregation. But One
was in their midst whose name is a strong tower ; and
Elizabeth Stirredge and another Friend were enabled to
speak words of encouragement to the company, and to
praise Him who had given them a banner to display
because of the truth. The power of the Lord so percep-
tibly prevailed that their cruel adversaries were awed,
though at length they exacted a fine of twenty shillings
from each of the attenders, most of whom, however,
left the spot with rejoicing hearts. John Story, an
influential member of the meeting, was much displeased
when he found that he could not induce his friends to
save themselves by privately assembling for worship ;
but, cost what it might, they felt they must confess their
Lord before men. Then a second minister sent a mes-
sage, suggesting the advantages that would arise from
waiting on God in a quiet room instead of in the street.
Can we wonder when we Jearn that some united in this

ELIZABETH STIRREDGE.

85

view ? But there were many in those sifting times,
men, weak women and even children, who, with a
heaven-taught fortitude, delighted in the thought that

" Love would have his children brave ! "

Looking steadfastly at the strength of their Almighty
leader, they —

" Said not, 'Who ami?' but rather
' Whose am I, that I should fear?' "

Century after century, in testing times such as these,
has a simple trust in Christ, and an entire surrender of
the soul to Him, triumphed gloriously, overcoming the
world. How should we have acted had we lived in
those stormy days 1 Yet surely such holy confidence is
needed for the conflict with evil in every age. Very
varied are the forms in which it confronts us. And is
there less danger in passing over the treacherous marsh
than in crossing the foaming torrent ; or less cause now
for closely cleaving to Christ with the confiding prayer,
" Hold Thou me up, and I shall be safe," — than at a
time when the path of the pilgrim to the Celestial City
did not at least lead him through the perils of out-
ward prosperity ?

Very earnest were the prayers of Elizabeth Stirredge
by night and day that she might be enabled to hold out
to the end, and that the Lord would " strengthen His
weak ones, and make the little ones as strong as David."
" And," she writes, " according to the day was our
strength renewed ; blessed be that Hand that never
failed us, nor any that put their trust in Him." Above
all she desired to know and to do her Lord's will.
" Search my heart," was her prayer, " for I love to be

86

ELIZABETH STIRREDGE.

searched and tried." She knew that God was calling
her to be His messenger, to proclaim a warning in the
ears of those who, whilst calling themselves His children,
were denying Him before men ; " which," she says,
" made me tremble before the Lord, crying, ' Oh Lord !
why wilt Thou require such hard things of me ? Lord,
look upon my afflictions and lay no more upon me than
I am able to bear. They will not hear me that am a
contemptible instrument. And seeing they despise the
service of women so much, 0 Lord ! make use of them
that are more worthy.' . . . The answer I received was,
'They shall be made worthy that dwell low in My
fear.'"

About this time Elizabeth Stirredge paid a religious
visit to the Friends in Wiltshire, where John Story, to
whom allusion has been made, was causing much trouble,
especially by his efforts to persuade others to save them-
selves by the use of what he found it convenient to call
" Christian prudence." The distress of Elizabeth Stir-
redge was great; and she dreaded attending meetings
for fear of what might be given her to express. Miles
Halhead, whose words had twice before sunk deeply
into her heart, came to see her.

"He was," she writes, "wonderfully endowed with the
power of the Lord, and with great discerning ; he said, ' My
love runs unto thee, and that for the work's sake that is in
thee ; for God will require hard things of thee ; thou little
thinkest what is at work in thy heart. The Lord God of
my life keep thee faithful ; my prayers shall be for thee as
often as I have thee in remembrance. Thou art as my own
life, and sealed in my bosom ; I cannot forget thee, so, dear
child, fare thee well. The Lord my God hath sent me forth
once more, and when I return home He will cut the thread
of my life in two ! ' And so it was. But, oh ! the good-

ELIZABETH STIUREDGE.

87

ness of the Lord with that salutation overflowed my whole
heart and melted me into tenderness."

A little later she went to Bristol, where John Story-
was much disturbing the meetings by his long and life-
less sermons. Her suffering became deeper and deeper.

" Many a time " she writes, " have I lain down in my
sorrow and watered my pillow with tears. ... I said, ' Oh
Lord ! if Thou wilt open my heart to declare of Thy good-
ness, and what Thou hast done for Thy people, and to tell
of Thy noble acts, and Thy manifold mercies, how ready
should I be to do it ; but these are hard things, who can bear
them V . . . I knew what the Lord required of me as well
as I knew my right hand from my left, and would not obey
Him. I thought that if any one had borne a testimony before
me, I could the better have borne it ; but to be one of the
first — I thought I could not do it. But what mercy did not
do, judgment did ; for the Lord was pleased to lay His hand
heavily upon me, and with His correcting rod chastised me.
And I did feel more of the displeasure of the Lord for my
backwardness to His requirings than ever I did for my former
transgression."

It was needful that the Lord should choose His own
messenger, and also that the lesson of trustful submission
should be learnt at any cost, till there should be a
willingness to say —

" My soul the untried seas would dare,
Or sands of every way mark bare,
Should but Thy voice distinctly say, — ■
' Go forward, soul, there lies thy way.' "

But the Master whom Elizabeth Stirredge served is
one who delighteth in mercy — who maketh sore that
He may bind up, and woundeth that He may make
whole. In her intense longing to be consciously
restored to His favour, she now asked Him to exact
from her whatever service He pleased, even if it should

88

ELIZABETH STIRREDGE.

cause her to be hated of all men. It was on a Sunday
morning that strength was given her to deliver a most
solemn warning to those who, whilst still having the
form of godliness, denied its power. Then a minister
arose, beginning a sermon, remarkable for the heavenly-
power which accompanied it, with these words : " A
living testimony is the God of heaven and earth raising
up among the poor and contemptible ones, that shall
stand over your heads for evermore." It would seem
that the Holy Head of the Church saw fit on that occa-
sion, in an unusual degree, to " take to Him His great
power, and reign " manifestly over the assembly. " Oh !
glory be to His everlasting name for evermore," writes
Elizabeth Stirredge, " for His blessed appearance to us
that day, who returned me a hundredfold into my bosom
after all my unworthy consulting against the motions
of the Spirit of so merciful and compassionate a Father,
who, after He had corrected me, received me into favour
again. Oh ! the peace and comfort and consolation that
I received from the Lord, was more to me than all the
world and the friendship of it." She saw that it was in
order to train her for His own service that the Lord had
" tried her as silver is tried."

"There is no hearing of His gracious voice," she writes,
"but by humbling under His mighty power, and subjecting
the mind unto His will ; then doth He make known His
mind and will, and then blessed are they that hear His word
and obey it. Oh ! blessed be His eternal name for ever and
for evermore, for all His mercies, and favours, and blessings,
and good gifts, and tokens of His gracious love that He hath
bestowed upon me ever since I have had a remembrance."

It is interesting to notice the frequency of passages
of thanksgiving and praise in her journal. Doubtless

ELIZABETH STIRREDGE.

89

she felt it was well worth while to endure the chasten-
ing which afterward yielded the peaceable fruits of
righteousness ; and in the very midst of her sorrows
there were seasons when to her hungry soul hitter
things were sweet ; for she remarks : " I can truly say
that my heart and soul delighted in judgment, though
one woe was poured out after another."

In 1683 Elizabeth Stirredge found a cruel persecutor
in Eobert Cross, the clergyman of the parish of Chew
Magna, Somerset, where her family had for some time
resided. He was particularly enraged against her
because, when visiting a neighbour who was ill, she had
felt that a message from on high had been given her
" to declare a day of mortality " to some who were in
the room, which, she adds, accordingly fell out in two
or three weeks' time. His anger increased when he
found that she had spoken at the funeral of a young-
Friend when many of his congregation had been present.
The following week another burial took place, and some
officers were sent with a warrant to arrest any one who
should venture to preach to the large company assembled.
But no human authority could hinder the accomplish-
ment of His will who has chosen the weak things to
confound the mighty, and it was with a " spirit greatly
enlarged by the power of the Lord, and drawn forth in
love towards the people," that Elizabeth Stirredge
addressed them ; many faces were wet with tears, and
not a few promised to amend their lives. By her side
meanwhile was the officer with his warrant, which he
unfolded with such trembling hands as to endanger
tearing it. As he opened it he exclaimed, " Oh ! that T
had been twenty miles from my habitation, that I had

90

ELIZABETH STIRREDGE.

not a hand in this work this day." When she was
brought before the justices, one of them said : "You are
an old prophetess ; I know you of old." He had been
present when, ten years earlier, she had been led to give
an awful warning in their midst. To his violent threats
she answered that she was not so much afraid of a prison
as he imagined, though, if by sending her there he
shortened her days, he would bring innocent blood upon
his head. When he asked if she would keep the King's
laws for the time to come, she said : " I do not know
whether ever the Lord may open my mouth again, but
if He do, I shall not keep silent." To the question
whether a conventicle had not been held at the house
of the deceased Friend, she made no reply until the
justice said : " Why do you not answer ? I knew she
would be dumb." Then she told him that she was no
informer, as Judas was when he betrayed his Master.
The indignant justice, addressing the officer who had
arrested her, said : " You silly fellow, you have let all
the men go and have brought a troublesome woman
here ; you should have brought two or three rich men
to have paid for all the conventicle." This officer, when
asked what Elizabeth Stirredge had said at the burial
ground, repeated some of her words, confessing that they
had made his heart tremble, and that he had had no
power to touch her until she had said all that she had in
her heart to say. On hearing this another justice said:
" Pray, neighbour Stirredge, go home about your busi-
ness." She remarks that the honest confession of the
man who had arrested her did her more good than
her release. The clergyman, finding that few of his
friends were willing to unite in his plans, sent to

ELIZABETH STlIiREDGE.

91

Bristol for John Hellier, who was celebrated as a perse-
cutor.

On a Sunday morning he and some others rushed into
the quiet meeting at Chew Magna ; they arrested those
present in the King's name, set a guard over them, and
then went to dine at the clergyman's house. During
their two hours' absence, Elizabeth Stirredge says,
" We had our solemn meeting peaceably, wherein we
enjoyed the presence of the Lord to our souls' comfort,
who never failed His children in a needful hour, but
always gave them strength suitable to the day — ever-
lasting honour be given to His holy name." Hellier
and his companions returned from their feastings with
faggots of wood, hatchet and axe, declaring that they
were going to blow up the house and burn the Quakers ;
they especially threatened the children, though the
treatment of others present was violent and brutal, and
a mittimus was made committing them to Ilchester
Gaol. When the clergyman was told that his work had
been well done, he said that it would add years to his
life. But very soon some of James Stirredge's neigh-
bours entered his shop, exclaiming, " Now you may
abide at home, for Mr. Cross is fallen down dead in
the churchyard." Although apparently dead he slightly
rallied for a few days, but reason did not return.

However there were others ready to carry out his
schemes, and several Friends were confined in the com-
mon gaol with three felons who were under sentence of
death. Some fellow-sufferers in the next room gave
them, through the grating, two blankets, some chaff
pillows, and a little straw. The weather was intensely
cold, they had not even a stone to sit on, and the ground

92

ELIZABETH STIRREDGE.

was damp. Here it was that most of the captives "took
their rest very sweetly." The black walls around them
could not shut out Him in whose presence is fulness of
joy, and they could say, as Richard Baxter did —

" Heaven is ray roof, earth is my floor ;
Thy love can keep me dry and warm ;
Christ and Thy bounty are my store ;
Thy angels guard me from all harm.

" No walls or bars can keep Thee out ;
None can confine a holy soul ;
The streets of heaven it walks about,
None can its liberty control."

As Elizabeth Stirredge lay down in the prison she
earnestly prayed that He, for whose sake they were
suffering, would comfort them by the consciousness of
His own presence. So abundantly did her Lord satisfy
her soul with His goodness, that it was only the sight
of her sleeping companions that prevented her from
praising Him aloud. Several people gathered around
the prison door when morning came to learn how many
of the inmates were dead, and when they found that
all were alive and well they exclaimed, " Surely they
are the people of God if there are any ! " * A meeting
was held in the prison. " The good presence of the
Lord," writes Elizabeth Stirredge, " was with us, and
filled our hearts with joy and gladness, insomuch that
I was constrained to testify, in the hearing of many
people, that we were so far from repenting our coming
there, that we had great cause to give glory, honour, and
praise to the Lord ; for His powerful presence was with

* The winter of 1683-4 was one of exceptional severity, when
*' Frost Pair " was held on the Thames.

ELIZABETH STIRREDGE.

93

us, and sanctified our afflictions, and made the prison
like a palace unto us." How long this imprisonment
lasted we are not told. To Elizabeth Stirredge it
appeared that even through these sufferings the Lord
was honouring His steadfast servants by weaning them
more and more from the world.

" Amongst all the blessed seasons of His love," she says,
" this was the greatest of mercies unto me, for the God of
heaven and earth was with us at our downlying and uprising.
. . . It seemed to me as if I had no habitation but the
prison ; then was the time for the Lord to reveal His secrets
unto His children that He had tried and proved ; ... for I
cannot believe that he that is not true to a little will ever
be made ruler over much. ... A great concern came upon
me for many careless ones that had deprived themselves of
that blessed benefit that our souls enjoyed with the Lord."

Most fervent were her prayers for such as these, as
well as for the deliverance of her persecuted people ; and
whilst still with her husband in llchester Gaol, an assur-
ance was afforded her that God would speedily proclaim
liberty to the captives, who should declare His wondrous
works that many might " hear and fear, and return unto
Him." Night and day did she rejoice in her inmost
soul at these glad tidings ; and whilst wondering at the
condescending goodness of God, she besought Him to
preserve her in His fear for ever.

When the Friends were tried at the sessions of Brow-
ton, she fully believed that the time for their release
was at hand, although a second jury had been called,
whom the persecutors hoped would suit their purpose.
When they returned to the court, the foreman was so
much agitated that he could scarcely give the verdict,
" Guilty of not going to church, but not guilty of a riot."

94

ELIZABETH STIRREDGE.

" Of not going to church," repeated the Bishop ; " that
is not the matter in hand. Guilty of a riot you mean."
But other members of the jury said, " No, my lord ;
guilty of not going to church, but not guilty of a riot."
Whilst the justices were dining, Elizabeth Stirredge says
a great concern fell upon her to follow them. When the
meal was over she addressed them, vindicating the inno-
cency of the downtrodden Friends, and adding : " There
is not a man here, nor any that draws breath in the open
air, that shall escape the tribunal seat of God's divine
justice," etc.

When, on the following morning, the prisoners were
called into the court, they found that the Bishop had
absented himself, and the behaviour of the judge was
altogether changed. More than eighty persons were
that day set free. " Men would ruin you, but God will
not suffer them so to do," were the words of the Crier,
who took an affectionate leave of the Friends whilst
begging their forgiveness for the part he had to act in
the court.

Elizabeth Stirredge spent the last fourteen years of
her life at Hempstead, in Hertford. As her strength
lessened, her labours of love were pretty nearly limited
to that county, and were highly valued. When earnestly
exhorting all to faithful dedication, she delighted to
dwell on the wonders which " the great God of heaven
and earth, that brought up the children of Israel out of
Egypt's bondage," had wrought amongst her people as
they put their trust in Him. To her children she
writes : " Oh ! what shall I say in the behalf of all the
Lord's wondrous works that mine eyes have seen ; but
more especially the inward work of regeneration ! Oh !

ELIZABETH STIRREDGE.

95

my tongue is not able to demonstrate the tenth part of
it that He hath been pleased to bring me through ! "
She died in 1706, at the age of seventy-two.

Whilst pondering such lives as hers, shall we not
remember that we have the same unwearied enemy to
withstand, though now he may wield his weapons in a
different way ; and that still the only victory that over-
cometh the world is faith — that faith which can alone
be exercised by the faithful follower of Christ ? There-
fore may it be the aim of each to give his whole heart
to the Lord who died for him. The righteous in all ages
could do no more than this, and why should any be
content without steadfastly striving to do as much ?

»

WILLI AJVl DEW^BUFJY: and h 13
WOF^D£ OF COUNSEL AND
CON^OLATIOjN.

[i

" Thy gifts are like Thyself
Whom none divideth ;
Thy gifts are like Thy love
Which evermore ahideth ;
Thou givest all Thyself to him
Who in Thy word confideth.

" Thy gifts are like Thyself ;
In round unending,
The river from Thy throne
Back to Thy throne is tending ;
And the Spirit that draws nigh Thee
Is the Spirit of Thy sending."

R. H. Cooke.

99

WILLIAM DEWSBURY; AND HIS WORDS OF
COUNSEL AND CONSOLATION.

" A King shall reign and prosper ; . . . and this is His name
whereby He shall be called, The Lobd our righteousness." —
Jer. xxiii. 5. 0.

" Whatsoever thou hungerest and thirstest for in His life, thou art
the heir of it, and the Lord will satisfy thy hunger witli His refresh-
ings for His name's sake." — W. Dewsbury.

The early years of William Dewsbury's life were
spent as a shepherd's boy at Allerthorpe, in Yorkshire.
His father died when he was eight years old (probably
about the year 1630), and whilst giving vent to his
sorrow in tears, he seemed to hear a voice saying,
" Weep for thyself, for thy father is well." Exceedingly
powerful was the impression then made on his mind.
" Deep sorrow seized on me," he says, " and I knew not
what to do to get acquaintance with the God of my
life." When about thirteen, having heard of some
Puritans living near Leeds, his anxiety was great to
meet with them, and he begged his friends to find him
some employment in that neighbourhood, quite indif-
ferent as to what it might be, if it only brought him
amongst those who feared the living God, that he might
" thus become acquainted with the God of his life."
But disappointment awaited him ; he found none who
could tell him " what God had done for their souls in
redeeming them from the body of sin. The flaming
sword, the righteous law of God," he adds, " cried in

100

WILLIAM DKWSBURY.

me for a perfect fulfilling of the law, so that I could
find no peace in that worship of God the world had set
up." His health suffered from these spiritual conflicts,
and he found it hard to carry out the requirements of
the cloth-weaver to whom he was apprenticed, though
doing his utmost to fulfil them.

When about twenty years of age he entered the
parliamentary army. His biographer imagines that he
had been led to believe that by this step he " would be
going up to the help of the Lord against the mighty,"
and that " he was willing to give his body unto death,
if by such a measure it had been possible to have freed
his soul from sin. Failing to find the associates he
longed for in the army, he visited Edinburgh, where, he
tells us, that he only found formality ; nor did his inter-
course with Independents and Anabaptists bring light
to his soul.

" Then," he says, " the Lord discovered to me that His
love could not be attained to by anything I could do in any
outward observances, and in all these turnings of my carnal
wisdom, while seeking the kingdom of God without, thither
the flaming sword turned to keep the way of the tree of life
and fenced me from it. . . . Then my mind was turned
within by the power of the Lord. . . . And the word of the
Lord came unto me and said, ' Put up thy sword into its
scabbard ; if my kingdom wer e of this world then would My
servants tight ; knowest thou not that, if I needed, I could
have twelve legions of angels from my Father?' 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."

William Dewsbury now resumed his old occupation
as a cloth-weaver, and whilst his hands weiJe thus dili-
gently employed, Iris mind was frequently engaged in

WILLIAM DEWSBURY.

101

waiting on the Lord. Carnal weapons were laid down,
but spiritual weapons were wielded in a conflict more
severe than any outward one ; but being wielded in that
faith, the trial of which is more precious than of gold
that perisheth, he found that they were mighty through
God to the pulling down of strongholds : —

" He saw his sad estate, condemn'd to die;

Then terror seized his heart, and dark despair ;
But when to Calvary he turned his eye,

He saw the cross and read forgiveness there."

It was about this time that William Dewsbury
married a young woman who, like himself, had passed
through many inward conflicts. A few days after this
event — when returning from a trial concerning some
property, which had been unjustly decided against him
— he was tempted with doubts about the propriety of
his marriage, as it seemed likely that his wife might be
brought to poverty. But having, through long and
bitter experience, learnt how utterly powerless he was
to overcome temptation in his own strength, he turned
away from it to his Almighty Helper, with the prayer
that the Lord " would make him content to be what He
would have him to be." Immediately he felt in an
overwhelming manner the presence of his Lord ; so
exceeding was the weight of glory that he thought that
his mortal frame could not long endure it, and he heard
as it were a voice saying, " Thou art mine ; all in heaven
and in earth is mine, and it is thine in Me ; what I see
good I will give unto thee, and unto thy wife and
children."

It was at Synderhill Green, in Yorkshire, that William
Dewsbury and George Fox first met. The latter writes

102

WILLIAM DKWSBURY.

in his Journal that, " At an evening meeting there,
William Dewsbury and his wife came and heard me
declare the Truth. And after the meeting, it being a
moonlight night, I walked out into the field : and
William Dewsbury and his wife came to me into the
field, and confessed to the Truth and received it ; and
after some time he did testify to it." Sewel says :—
" He was one who had already been immediately con-
vinced, as George Fox himself was ; who coming to him
found himself in unity with him."

In the year 1652, ''The Word of the Lord," writes
William Dewsbury, " came unto me, saying, ' The leaders
of my people cause them to err, in drawing them from
the light in their consciences (which leads to the anoint-
ing within, which the Father hath sent to be their
Teacher, and would lead them into all Truth) to seek
the kingdom of God in observances where it is not to
be found. . . . Freely thou hast received, freely give
and minister ; and what I have made known unto thee
in secret, declare thou openly." Six years earlier he
had felt a strong inclination, as a public preacher of the
Gospel, to invite others to come to the Saviour so pre-
cious to his own soul; but he was taught by the Holy
Spirit that the time for this was not yet come, and that
if he waited until a future year there would be a greater
openness in the minds of the people to receive his
message. Knowing the voice, and following his
Shepherd, he quietly pursued his trade, holding meet-
ings for worship in his own house and neighbourhood.
But the " tongue of fire, when it came, made up abun-
dantly for all delays."

This time of waiting was one of the most momentous

WILLIAM DEWSBUUY.

103

in his history ; a time in which he learned what has
been called " one of the hardest lessons we ever learn in
our lives — that having Christ, we have salvation also ;
. . . having the fountain we have its issuing streams."*
Like the Great Apostle he was led to cry, "Oh, wretched
man that I am ! who shall deliver me from the body of
this death ? " " As I was crying to the Lord," he says,
" to free me from the burden I groaned under, the word
of the Lord came to me, saying, ' My grace is sufficient
for thee, I will deliver thee.' And by the power of this
Word I was armed with patience to wait in His counsel ;
groaning under the body of sin in the day and hour of
temptation, until it pleased the Lord to manifest His
power to free me, which was in the year 1651." From
his own sore and unavailing struggles with sin he was
taught that the only victory which overcometh is faith
in Him who " bare our sins in His own body on the
tree, that we, being dead to sins, should live unto
righteousness ; " who is ever ready to take hold of shield
and buckler, and stand up for our help. Knowing that
neither height nor depth was able to separate him from
the love of God, he did not fear to abandon himself fully,
and trust himself wholly to His keeping' neither
wishing nor daring to limit the Holy One of Israel in
what He should do with him, exact from him, or bestoiv
upon him. He believed that God " is able to do exceed-
ing abundantly above all that we ask or think, according
to the power that worketh in us," and according to his
faith was it unto him. " Through the righteous law of
the Spirit of Life in Christ Jesus," he writes, " I was

* Dr. Boardman.

104

"WILLIAM DEWSBURY.

and am made free from the body of sin and death ; and
through these great tribulations my garments are
washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb, who
hath led me through the gates of the city into the New
Jerusalem, . . . where my soul now feeds upon the
tree of life, which I had so long hungered and thirsted
after, that stands in the paradise of God."

When on his death-bed, alluding to this period of his
life, he said that he never afterwards "played the coward,
but as joyfully entered prisons as palaces, telling his
enemies to hold him there as long as they could ; and in
prison he sang praises to his God, and esteemed the
bolts and locks put upon him as jewels."

" Who that one moment hath the least descried Him,
Dimly and faintly, hidden and afar,
Doth not despise all excellence beside Him, —
Pleasures and powers that are not and that are ? "

It is not the object of this brief sketch to give the
details of the numerous hardships, sufferings, and long
imprisonments which William Dewsbury willingly
endured in the service of his Lord. Once he was con-
fined in Warwick gaol for nearly eight years ; and at a
later period for six years more, when his little grand-
daughter, Mary Samm, though only twelve years old,
left her father's home in Bedfordshire, that she might
comfort him in his captivity ; but a violent fever, most
easily accounted for by the horrible state of the prison,
soon ended her life. She appears to have been a child
of remarkable character, and to have partaken of the
religious fervour for which this era was specially distin-
guished. To her aunt, Joan Dewsbury, she said, " Not
any one knows my exercise, but the Lord alone, that

WILLIAM DEWSBURY.

105

I have gone through since I came to Warwick ; " and
the next day she remarked, " If this distemper do
not abate, I must die : . . . 0 Lord, if it be Thy will
take me to Thyself. . . . Oh ! praises, praises be to Thy
holy name for ever, in Thy will being done with me, to
take me to Thyself, where I shall be in heavenly joy,
yea, in heavenly joy for ever and for evermore." To
her grandfather she said, " I do believe it is better for
me to die than to live. . . . Dear grandfather, I do
believe that thou wilt not stay long behind me when I
am gone." "Dear granddaughter," he answered, " I shall
come as fast as the Lord orders my way." To her
mother she said, " My grandfather and I have lived here
so comfortably together that I am fully satisfied as to my
coming to him. . . . And, dear mother, I would have
thee remember my love to my dear sisters, relations,
and friends; and now I have nothing to do, I have nothing
to do." ''After which," William Dewsbury writes, "she
asked what time of day it was. It being the latter
part of the day, I said, ' The chimes are going four.' She
said, ' I thought it had been more ; I will see if I can
have a little rest and sleep before I die.' And so she
lay still, and had sweet rest and sleep ; then she awoke
without any murmuring, and in a quiet, peaceable frame
of spirit, laid down her life in peace when the clock
struck the fifth hour."

In 1657, when visiting Devon, William Dewsbury
had a strong impression that a storm of persecution
awaited him, and, at Torrington, he shortly afterwards
had to encounter it. He was arrested, and brought
before the mayor and other officers, some of whom he
says, " were very cruel and wicked against the truth of

106

WILLIAM PEWSBURY.

God, and did deal very rudely with me." But when,
in reply to their questions, he " was free in the Lord to
declare to them how he came to be a minister of Christ,"
one of the justices could not refrain from tears, and the
clerk said, " If thou hadst spoken thus much before,
there had not been this to be done." Yet he was sent
back to lie on the bare floor of his prison. When next
brought before them he tells us, "My God had pleaded
my cause ; . . . the man that said I should see his face
no more until I was before the judge at Exeter, pulled
the mittimus in pieces before my face, and said to me,
' Thou art free.' So did my God set me free."

The ministry of William Dewsbury is thus described
in a little book by " that ancient servant of God, Thomas
Thompson " : — " 0 ! how was my soul refreshed and the
witness of God reached in my heart. I cannot express
it with pen ; I had never heard or felt the like before,
. . . so that if all the world said Nay, I could have
given my testimony that it was the everlasting truth
of God."

It was said by one who intimately knew him, that "to
the tender he was exceedingly tender," which those who
have read his epistles can well believe. " Beloved are
you," he writes, " that hunger and thirst after righteous-
ness ; for you are the children of the kingdom of my
Father. With you my life is bound up." One of theL-e
pastoral letters has this superscription : " Let this go
abroad amongst all the afflicted and wounded in spirit."
The following passages are taken from it : —

" Oh, thou child of the morning, of the pure eternal day
of the God of Israel, hearken no longer to the enemy who
saith there hath none travelled where thou art travelling,

WILLIAM DKWSBURY. 107

neither drunk of the cup that thou art drinking. ... In
the word of the Lord God I declare unto thee, I drank the
same cup, with my faithful friends, who are born of the
royal seed ; every one in their measure have travelled in the
same path, and have endured the same temptations. . . .
The Lord God, He will throw down the enemy of thy peace.
... So in the power of His might, stay thy heart ; and
tread upon all doubts, fears, despairing thoughts, question-
ings, reasonings, musings, imaginations, and consultings.
Arise over them all in the light of Christ. He will lead thee
into the banqueting-house of the pleasure of our God. . . .
And this shall be the portion of thy cup, if thou diligently
hearken to the counsel of the Lord which calls thee to trust
in Him. He will embrace thee in the arm of His love, and
thou shalt praise His name for ever ! God Almighty, in His
light and life, raise up thy soul, . . . steadfastly to wait for
His power to lead thee in the cross out of all unbelief."

At another time he writes : —

" Watch over one another, . . . opening your hearts in
the free Spirit of God to them that are in need, that you
may bear the image of your Heavenly Father, who relieveth
the hungry, and easeth the burdened, and maketh glad in
refreshing His, in the time of need. Even so be it with you
in the name of the Lord."

Again, as an ambassador for Christ, constrained by
His love, he writes : —

" Oh, come away, come away, out of all your thoughts,
desires, doubts and unbelief, which would turn you aside from
the enjoyment of the love of God in Christ Jesus. Let none
stand afar off because of your littleness, lameness, blindness,
weakness or infirmities, who cannot live at peace until you
be healed by the blood of the Lamb. . . . Give up to the
drawing spirit of life in the light of Jesus Christ. He will
carry thee that canst not go, in the arms of His compassions ;
He will cause the lame to walk ; and thou who art sensible
of thy blindness to recover thy sight ; yea, He will heal thee
of all thy infirmities, who waitest in the light, to be ordered
and guided as a little child by the washing and sanctifying

108

WILLIAM DEWSBURY.

Spirit of the Lord Jesus. . . . Oh ! what shall I say of the
unspeakable love of God in Christ Jesus, the husband of the
bride. Oh ! ye sons of the glorious day, read and feel in the
deep tastes of the unsearchable love, and you handmaids of
glory, drink of the inexhaustible ocean which in the light
flows over all opposition. This is the Son of the Father's
love, . . . wounded for our transgressions ! . . . Let all
crowns be thrown down before Him, He alone shall have the
glory. . . . Whatever the natural man most inclines to,
when the temptations beset you . . . look up to the Lord
and resist the devil with boldness in the first assault, and the
Lord God will give you dominion over them, . . . that in
the perfect freedom every particular individual may reign in
the measure of the light, over every thought and desire that
is contrary to the will of God. . . . You shall break down
Satan under your feet, . . . and shall overcome through the
blood of the Lamb ; . . . and continually drink of the rivers
of pleasure, the presence of the Lord Jesus, our Light, Life
and Righteousness for ever. . . . Thou who lovest the light
and bathest thy soul in the ocean of His inexpressible mercies,
.shall never more want the fresh springs of life. The Lord
will keep thee in the safety of His power."

Early in 1688, William Dewsbury visited London.
Very striking was a long sermon preached by him in
Gracechurch Street Meeting, a few weeks before his
death. He says : — " . . . Become as a little child,
humbled and slain as to thine own will. . . . Thou
wilt not question, ' Shall I live a holy life ? ' but will
give all that life thou hadst for that life which is hid
with Christ in God. 0 ! there is none come so far
that ever miss of eternal life."

Some friends having met together in his room, about
a week before his death (which took place at Warwick),
he, notwithstanding his weakness, rose from his bed to
address them. " Fear not, nor be discouraged," were
ome of his concluding words, " but go on in the name

WILLIAM DEWSBURY.

109

and power of the Lord ; and bear a faithful and living
testimony for Him in your day ; and the Lord will
prosper His work in your hand, and cause His Truth
to flourish and spread abroad."

Of this faithful servant of God, may we not say that
he, being dead, yet speaketh ? Jesus Christ is the
same yesterday, to-day and for ever. What William
Dewsbury and other of the devoted early Friends were
they were by the grace of God alone. And His promise
to those who " chose the things that please Him, and
take hold of His covenant,'" can be no less sure now
than it was two centuries ago — " Even unto them will
I give, in mine house and within my walls, a place and
a name better than of sons and of daughters : I will
give them an everlasting name, that shall not be cut
off."

JOHJN CF^OOK.

•• I had long seriously thought with myself that besides a full
and undoubted assent to the objects of faith, a vivifying savoury
taste and relish of them was also necessary, that with stronger
force and more powerful energy they might penetrate into the
most inward centre of my heart, and there being most deeply fixed
and rooted, govern my life." — John Howe.

113

JOHN CROOK.

"The longer I was in finding whom I sought,
The more earnestly I beheld Him being found."

Beda.

" I will not serve thee, 0 Satan, but I will serve the
Lord God of heaven and earth whatsoever I suffer, or
becometh of me therefor." Such were the words vehe-
mently spoken by John Crook, when a little lad of some
nine or ten years. Although so young he was no stranger
to spiritual conflict, and it was when on the point of
yielding to a violent assault of the enemy that be became
aware of a mightier power within him, strengthening
him boldly to resist the temptation. But a child's
heart is small for so sore a combat, and he soon felt
frightened and bewildered at the " opposite strivings "
in his soul ; yet he at last thought that his deliverer
could be no other than the Lord Himself. After this
memorable hour he would, oftener than before, seek for
some secret place to pray for help in the time of trial.
Many were the tears shed at such seasons as he thought
over his sins ; for when alone he says that he was " sure
to hear of his doings." Yet he found himself unable to
keep the promises of amendment which he made, and
his soul was often weighed down with sorrow.

When he saw the natural and healthy delight which
other children took in play, he thought that they must
be better than he, and that it was in anger that God

I

114

JOHX CROOK.

was correcting him. Indeed, it would be strange if at
so early an age he could have conceived that at times —

" The sharpest discipline
On best-loved child is laid."

His home, he tells us, was in the " North country,"
where he was bom in 1618. At the age of ten or eleven
he was sent to London and attended several schools
there until he was about seventeen. He states that
the family with whom he was " scoffed at all strictness,"
so he spent his spare time in solitude and prayer,
weeping much from the sense given him of his sinful-
ness. During these years he did not — to quote his
own words — "mind hearing of sermons, being little
acquainted with any that frequented such exercises."
However, when afterwards apprenticed in another
London parish he often heard a Puritan minister ; he
read the Bible much, and other good books, and so
earnestly poured out his soul in his prayers, that he
afterwards found the family with whom he lived secretly
listened to him.

" I remember," he writes, " when I was most fervent in my
devotion, something in me would be still pulling me hack, as
it were, as if I would not wholly yet leave those evils I
knew myself guilty of, but would gladly have them pardoned
and forgiven, and yet would I continue in them, which at
last made me conclude I was but a hypocrite. ... I con-
tinued professing, and praying, and hearing, and reading, and
yet I could not perceive any amendment in myself; hut the
same youthful vanities drew away my mind as before."

Working hard by day, and shortening his hours of
rest, John Crook was often allowed by his master to
attend religious lectures and meetings. Whilst listening
to different sermons he felt himself " tossed up and

JOHN CROOK.

115

down from hope to despair." He did not dare to tell
any minister of his distress, lest he should be driven to
despondency if another judged as hardly of his condition
as he himself did. With his mind in this state one
cannot greatly wonder at the singular determination he
one day came to, nor doubt that the delivering hand of
the Lord was then outstretched to help him.

" I resolved," he says, " one First-day afternoon, being
full of trouble, to go that time which way I should be
moved or inclined in spirit, whether it was up street or
down street, east or west, north or south, without any
predetermination or forecast, but only as I should be led."
Wandering on in this strange manner he at length
entered a church, where a young clergyman preached
from the text, " He that walketh in darkness and hath
no light, let him trust in the name of the Lord and stay
upon his God," describing the state of one who, though
fearing the Lord, yet walked in darkness, as if he had
clearly known John Crook's distress, and was speaking
to him only. Greatly was he comforted, and it was
even with a rejoicing heart that he left the place ; but
this consolation did not last long, for he writes of
trouble overtaking him " through some negligence and
coldness which gendered to distrust and unbelief." He
thus experienced that if the soul consciously withholds
any allegiance from Christ it cannot at the same time
exercise unwavering faith in His all-availing aid. When
his misery was inexpressible, as he was one day sitting
alone, he says : —

" On a sudden there arose in me a voice audible to the
spiritual ear, ' Fear not, O thou tossed as with a tempest
and not comforted, I will help thee ; and although I have

116

JOHN CROOK.

hid ruy face from thee for a moment, yet with everlasting
loving kindness will I visit thee, and thou shalt be mine.'
... I was tilled with peace and joy like one overcome, and
there shone such a light within me that, for the space of
seven or eight days' time, I walked as one taken from the
earth. I was so taken up in my mind as if I walked above
the world, not taking notice (as it seemed to me) of any
persons or things as I walked up and down London streets,
I was so gathered up in the marvellous light of the Lord,
and filled with a joyful dominion over all things in this
world ; in which time I saw plainly, and to my great comfort
and satisfaction, that whatever the Lord would communicate
and make known of Himself and the mysteries of His
kingdom, He would do it in a way of purity and holiness.
I saw then such a brightness in holiness, and such a beauty
in an upright and pure righteous conversation and close
circumspect walking with God in a holy life, . . that it
sprang freely in me, that all religion and all profession with-
out it were as nothing in comparison with this communion.
For I remember, while I abode and walked in that light and
glory which shone so clearly on my mind and spirit, there
was not a wrong thought appearing or stirring in me but it
vanished presently, finding no entertainment ; my whole
mind and soul was taken up with, and swallowed up of, that
glorious light and satisfactory presence of the Lord thus
manifested in me."

Long after, in a very beautiful letter of sympathy to
Isaac Penington, John Crook says : —

" Be thou still in thy mind, and let the billows pass over,
and wave upon wave ; and fret not thyself because of them,
neither be cast down as if it should never be otherwise with
thee. The days of thy mourning shall be over, and the
accuser will God cast out for ever. For therefore was I
afflicted and not comforted, tempted and tried,— for this end
— that I might know how to speak a word in due season
unto those that are tempted and afflicted as I once was ; as
it was said unto me in that day when sorrow lay heavy tipon
me. By these things thou wilt come to live in the life of
God, and joy in God, and glory in tribulation ; when thou

JOHN CROOK.

117

hast learnt in all conditions to be contented ; and through
trials and deep exercises is the way to learn this lesson."

Well had he learned how to give comfort and support.
In the same letter he writes of his own sore sorrow until
his eyes were opened to see his Saviour, and his heart
to receive Him as his all in all.

" Sure I am," he says, " none can be so weary but He takes
care of them j nor none so nigh fainting but He puts His
arm under their heads ; nor none can be so beset with enemies
on every side but He will arise and scatter, because they are
His own, and His life is the price of their redemption and
His blood of their ransom. When they feel nothing stirring
after Him, He yearns after them ; so tender is the good
Shepherd of His flock ! / can tell, for I was as one that
once went astray and wandered upon the barren mountains."*

At another time he writes : —

" Your God sees and beholds, and ponders all your trials.
Leave them all with Him, and cast your care wholly upon
Him • for by all your care not one cubit can be added to
your stature. . . . He hath tempered your cups that you
may say of the bitterest of them. My God is the portion of
this also."

Two or three years after the remarkable visitation
already referred to, John Crook found that, whilst "dwell-
ing more without and less within," winter had taken
the place of spring-time in his soul, and little seemed
left him but memories of that sunny season. Many
questionings about worship and the ordinances arose in
his mind, and he thought that he should be guilty of
ingratitude to the God who had done such great things

* It is interesting to compare with this letter I. Penington'.s
own words of encouragement to others in later years. — Letters of
Isaac Penington. Nos. 3 and 73, etc.

118

JOHN CROOK.

for him, if he did not seek for the purest way of worship-
ing Him. At length he joined some persons whose
views resembled those of the Independents, and who,
like himself, hungered and thirsted after righteousness.
A blessing rested on their meeting whilst, as John
Crook says, they " were kept watchful and tender, with
minds inwardly retired, and words few and savoury ; "
in which frame of spirit, he adds, they were preserved
by communicating their experiences one to another
week by week. But, as might be feared, after some
years, this became a mere form ; questions about their
" Church state," etc., arose ; the sweet fellowship was
no longer felt, and at last they wholly gave up meeting-
together, and some of them completely cast off the yoke
of Christ.

John Crook could not go so far astray as some of his
acquaintances, and at times his unhappiness caused him
to resume religious reading and prayer. Much as he
was tempted to adopt dangerous principles, the strong
sense of his former wonderful deliverances and conso-
lations, as well as the taste he had had of joy unspeak-
able, made him sure that there was (to quote his own
words) " a far better state and condition to be known
and enjoyed in this world by walking with God in
holiness and purity, than by all licentious and volup-
tuous living, or covetous gathering of riches together, to
get a name in the earth." Neither could he doubt that
obedience to what his conscience told him was the will
of God would bring him more peace than any outward
observances could do.

It was at this crisis, and when John Crook was about
thirty-six years of age, that he was providentially led

JOHN CROOK.

119

to the spot where William Dewsbury was preaching,
thou"'li had he known that he was a Friend lie would

O

have avoided hearing him.

" His words," writes John Crook, " like spears, pierced and
wounded my very heart ; yet so as they seemed unto me as
balm also. ... I remember the very words that took the
deepest impression upon me. . . . He implied the miserable
life of such who, notwithstanding their religious duties or
performances, had not peace nor quietness in their spirits,
. . . and wanted a spiritual understanding of that which
might then have been known of God within ; which after-
ward I came to know and behold. . . . Whereby I under-
stood certainly that it is not an opinion, but Christ Jesus the
power and arm of God, who is the Saviour, — and that felt
in the heart and kept dwelling there by faith ; which differs
as much from all notions in the head and brain as the living
substance differeth from the picture or image of it. ... I
came to see what it was that had so long cried in me upon
every occasion of serious inward retiring in my own spirit ;
so that I could say of Christ, ' A greater than Solomon is
here.'"

With such wonderful power did the minister's words
sink into his inmost soul, that to him it almost seemed
as if one of the old Apostles had arisen from the dead.
He saw now that the victory could be gained over the
sinful desires which resisted what he calls those " little
stirrings and movings after the living God." In allusion
to this time he speaks of receiving the earnest of the
inheritance and seal of the covenant. The light which
now shone around him seemed to illumine the painful
path he had trodden in the past. And as he called to
mind the " sweet refreshings " granted him all along in
the midst of his sorrowful pilgrimage — his frequent
neglect of the tender wooings of his Lord, and ingra-
titude for His marvellous mercies — he was ready to

120 JOHN CROOK.

cry out, " What ! was God so near me in a place I was
not aware of? " And with a heart melted and over-
come by the great love of his Father in heaven, realising
that he was a child, an heir — even a joint-heir with
Christ — he felt that nothing less than his all would be an
offering worthy of being laid upon the altar. Now
were the mysteries of the kingdom more and more
revealed to him by the Holy Spirit, and it must be
from his own blessed experience that, long after, he
could write for the encouragement of others : —

" Lift up your heads, you that have come, through and
beyond all outward washings, unto the Lamb of God that
your robes may be washed white in His Mood; that thereby
you may overcome, and then sit down in the kingdom with
weary Abraham, thoroughly-tried Isaac, and wrestling Jacob."

" 0, the many devices," he elsewhere writes, " that the
enemy useth. . . . That now we had lain long enough in
the furnace, and nothing was left but pure gold ; but he
lied unto us. . . . We saw we must into the furnace again,
and there continue all the appointed time of the Father, till
indeed we were changed into the state of the precious sons
of Zion, truly comparable to fine gold."

Nothing had ever seemed harder to him than the
having to " lay down all weapons and crowns " at the
feet of his Lord. But when this had been done he
found that the cravings of his soul were satisfied at
last ; and that it was refreshed by " a most sweet
shower," while formerly it had only been revived by
" summer drops ushering in a greater drought after-
wards." Possessing now the riches of the glory of the
inheritance of the saints, he says that a cry often arose
in him that he might be kept poor and needy, in daily
dependence upon his Saviour.

Soon he found that he was called to publish to his

JOHN CROOK.

121

fellow-men what he " had seen, felt and handled of the
word and work of God." When he did not yield to
this conviction, sorrow was once more his portion ; and
some other who was present would now and then speak
the words which had been in his heart. But when he
simply followed the guidance of the Holy Spirit a rich
blessing followed, as he went from place to place, and
he does not scruple to say that many were converted
who lived and died in the faith.

" I found God," he adds, "always to be larger in His good-
ness than I could expect, and more abundant in pouring out
of His Holy Spirit than my faith could reach, even to the
breaking of my heart many a time before Him in secret. . .
. I was constrained to obey the Lord, taking no thought
what I should say, but cried to Him often in my spirit,
' Keep me poor and needy, believing in Thee, and then I
shall speak from Thee and for Thee.' . . From the deep sense
I had of God's majesty and purity in my heart, I spoke of
Him as I felt His requirings thereunto, and His rewards were
in my bosom as a most sweet comforting cordial, that did
lift up my spirit above all discomfortings from the enemies
within and without, although both ofttitnes sorely beset me.
... I might swell a volume with this subject, but this
is spoken to the glory of the Almighty God, that the all-
sufficiency of His Holy Spirit may be trusted in and relied
upon, as the only supplier of His ministers and people."

Strongly as his strong faith was tried, he found that
the Comforter had truly come to abide with him for
ever. " Never did the word of promise fail," — though
he was imprisoned ten times, was once tried for his life,
and also incurred the sentence of premunire in 1662.
John Crook had himself been a Justice of the Peace, and
was well aware of the illegality of the sentence undergone
by his companions and himself ; and on being remanded
to Newgate he wrote an account of the trial, calling it

122

JOHN CROOK.

" The Cry of the Innocent for Justice." This was
printed, together with the Latin indictment, in which
he pointed out many errors. One would fancy that his
judges must have been taken aback by his bold words
at the bar, and his accurate acquaintance with some
details of law. When they told him that they had
power to tender the Oath of Allegiance to any man, he
answered, " Not to me upon this occasion, for I am
brought hither as an offender already. ... I am an
Englishman, as I have said to you, and challenge the
benefit of the laws of England, for by them is a better
inheritance derived to me than that which I receive
from my parents ; for by the former the latter is pre-
served." It is not known for how long this imprison-
ment lasted.

In one of John Crook's epistles, written in Hunting-
don Gaol, " To those that are in Outward Bonds, for the
Testimony of a Good Conscience," he says : —

" Love nothing more than God, but let Him be thy whole
delight, and count it thy glory and thy praise that thou hast
anything to lose, or part withal, for His sake. Account His
chains as thy ornaments, and His bonds as thy beauty, and
His prison as thy palace. . . . You may not disparage your
descent, nor undervalue the race from whence you sprang,
for you are become companions with all that are born from
above, who walk with God, and have fellowship with Christ
through the Spirit, with all the royal race amongst the
living."

Such animating words, from one himself in captivity,
must have carried comfort to many hearts.

It is related of John Crook that, in consequence of
preaching in a meeting, he was brought, late one even-
ing, before a Justice of the Peace, who, being a kind-

JOHN CROOK.

123

hearted man, was unwilling to send him at such an
unseasonable hour to the distant prison ; so bidding
the informer to call in the morning, he offered the
offender a night's lodging, telling him, however, that,
as he had company at the time, he could only spare
him a room which one of his servants said was haunted.
But haunted chambers had no horrors for John Crook,
abiding, as he did, under the shadow of the Almighty,
and he gratefully accepted the invitation. Not only
was he courteously and hospitably treated, but oppor-
tunity was also cordially given him for religious con-
versation with the company, in which they were much
interested. The Justice kindly showed him to his room,
which was at the end of a long gallery, and he slept
soundly until about one o'clock. When he awoke, it
was with even an unusually vivid sense of that love
which passeth knowledge — of being compassed with
Good's favour as with a shield. Just then a rattling-
noise was heard in the gallery, and when, after a time,
it ceased, a shrill voice three times said, " You are
damned." Quite undismayed, John Crook answered,
" Thou art a liar, for I feel this moment the sweet
peace of my God flow through my heart." All was
again quiet, and he soon fell asleep, not waking until
his usual hour for rising. Finding that his host had
not yet come down stairs he took a walk in the garden,
where he was soon joined by a manservant who, falling
on his knees before him, said that it was he who had
tried to alarm him in the night, and that his heart had
been pierced by John Crook's words. He asked for his
forgiveness and his prayers, going on to say that for
some years past some of his fellow-servants and himself

124

JOHN CROOK.

had been in the habit of secretly robbing their master,
and, in order to facilitate their plans of concealment,
had pretended that one part of the house was haunted.
At John Crook's request he confessed his crime to the
Justice, who pardoned him, and also gave his guest a
dismission from the informer. The impression made
that night on the servant's heart was a lasting one, and
we learn that he afterwards became " an honest Friend
and a minister."

Four years after John Crook had become a Friend,
a general Yearly Meeting was held at his house in
Bedfordshire. It continued for three days, and was
attended by George Fox and so many others from most
parts of England that the inns in the neighbouring
towns were crowded. John Crook has been described
as an Apollos, eloquent and mighty in the Scriptures,
and by his ministry not a few were turned from dark-
ness to light; but no detailed record of this is left
by himself, nor does he give many particulars of the
persecutions which he suffered. He speaks of how
God has made prisons to be schools for prophets and
nurseries for divines. " He that would build high," he
remarks, " must lay the foundation deep. There is
flesh as well as spirit in us all, as the Apostle saith of
himself (Gal. v. 17). Therefore there is great need of
a strict watch to be kept ' with all keeping,' as the
margin hath it, lest we forget there is going out of the
truth by many unsuspected ways as well as goings in
by Christ, the door." Again, in his eighty-second year
he writes : —

" Perfecting holiness in the fear of the Lord is so far from
lessening or undervaluing the merits or conquests of Christ,

JOHN CROOK.

125

that it manifests Him to be able to save to the uttermost
all that come to God by Him. Not only from the guilt,
but from the filth of sin also, ... to make them whole
every whit as He did those He cured outwardly."

Writing of faith, he says : —

" By this living faith Abel saw beyond the sacrifice unto
Christ, the first-born of God, beyond the firstling of the
flock which he offered ; and therefore God had respect unto
Abel and his offering. But God rejected Cain and his offer-
ing, thougli he had faith to believe it to be his duty, yet
sticking to the form, and not flying on the wing of faith
unto Christ, the One Offering, he missed the mark. . . .
We believe that faith to be only true and saving that flies
over self-righteousness as well as filthiness into the fountain
of life in Christ, which faith hath nothing of man in it,
but is as the breath of life by which the soul lives : not a
bare assent to the truth of a proposition in the natural
understanding, but the soul's cleaving unto God out of a
naturalness between Christ and the soul, . . . not looking at
its doing to commend it, but God's love and bounty in Christ,
the Light, to receive it ; and yet holiness is its delight, and it
can no more live out of it than the fish upon the dry land.
This faith keeps the mind pure, the heart clean, through the
sprinkling of the heart from an evil conscience by the blood
of Jesus."

Not long before his death he writes : —

" Let not your outward concerns prevent your religious
meetings and services on the week-days, lest the earthly
spirit get up again ; but meet in the faith that you shall
meet with God, whether you hear words spoken outwardly
or not."

On another occasion his words are : —

" Watch, my dear friends, against the enemy of your souls
that you may be preserved out of all its snares. ... So will
you delight to meet together, and the joy of the Lord will
be your strength, and you thereby encouiaged to wait upon
Him. And His sweet and precious presence will be manifest

126

JOHN CROOK.

among you, unto the building up and strengthening one
another in the faith of the Gospel, unto the vanquishing of
your fears and scattering of all your enemies."

During the latter part of his life, John Crook suffered
from intense bodily pain, which he bore with the utmost
patience, though he admitted that, did he not feel the
upholding arm of his Lord, he could not live under it.
In a letter of advice to his grandchildren, he bids them
embrace afflictions as messengers of peace. He counsels
them to " wait upon God," adding — " I have had more
comfort and confirmation in the truth in my inward
retiring in silence, than from all words I have heard
from others, though I have often been refreshed by
them also." Although at so advanced an age his spiritual
strength seemed unabated ; yet he rejoiced at the thought
that he would soon be free from his suffering state.
" Many of the ancients," he would say, " are gone to
their long home ; they step away before me, and I, that
would go, cannot. Well, it will be my turn soon also ! "
About three weeks before his death he very emphati-
cally said, " Truth must prosper, Truth shall prosper ;
but a trying time must first come, and afterwards the
glory of the Lord shall more and more appear."

He died in 1699 at Hertford, which had been his
home for many years. He leaves no details of his
domestic life, but we learn from Sewel that some of
his children were a cause of sorrow. He might well
say that he had been afflicted from his youth up —
yet be also knew what it was to glory in tribulation.
Growing from one degree of grace to another, it was
granted to him to experience, by faith, that the child
of God is translated out of darkness into the kingdom

JOHN CKOOK.

127

of God's dear Son ; and the eyes of his understanding
were enlightened to know the riches of the glory of this
inheritance. Realising as he did the exceeding great-
ness of God's power to those who believe, neither perse-
cution nor pain, neither grief nor care, could debar him
from the privileges of his citizenship in the New Jeru-
salem. For — to borrow the words of George Fox —
" All that dwell within the grace, and truth, and faith,
and Spirit, which are the wall of the city, dwell within
that city," even the Zion of the Holy One of Israel.

£TEPHEJN CRI£P AND
£ER]V10N£.

I

" Purifying their hearts by faith " (Acts xv. 9.)
" Faith is the victory over that which separated man from
God ; by which faith he hath access to God. And it is faith that
sanctifies." — George Pox's Doctrinals.

131

STEPHEN CRISP AND HIS SERMONS.

Christ hath bound Himself to those that trust in Him.

Stephen Cbisp.

It was in the spring of 1655, when Stephen Crisp
was about twenty- seven years of age, that the town
of Colchester where he lived was visited by James
Parnel* (a minister of the newly-formed Society of
Friends), whose labours had already been greatly
blessed although he had not attained his twentieth
year. Night and day had Stephen Crisp been longing
that the Gospel might be preached in his native place
by one of the Quakers ; for though he knew that they
were a hated and persecuted people, he was well aware
that this had often been the lot of the faithful followers
of Christ. He had, however, heard that one of their

* James Parnel's services at Colchester, where many thousands
came to hear him, are thus described by Stephen Crisp: — "He
spent that week in preaching, praying, exhorting, turning the minds
of all sorts of professors to the light of Jesus, which did search their
hearts and show their thoughts, that they might believe therein. . . .
Many did believe, and others were hardened. . . . To one that struck
him with a great staff, saying, 'There, take that for Jesus Christ's
sake,' he returned this answer, ' Friend, I do receive it for Jesus
Christ's sake.' " He died about a year later, the victim of most cruel
treatment coupled with close confinement, in Colchester Castle.
*' Here I die innocently," he said ; " I have seen great things. Do
not hold me ; but let me go." During his captivity he writes : — " Be
willing that self shall suffer for the truth, and not the truth for self,
... all you that would follow the Lamb to the land of rest, and
through many trials you will wax strong and bold and confident in
your God; for God is not known what a God He is until the time of
trial."

132

STEPHEN CRISP AND HIS SERMONS.

tenets was, that sin might be overcome in this life,
which at first seemed to him to be a ereat mistake : for
— although from childhood he had taken a deep interest
in religion, and as he grew older had made acquaintance
with several sects, and had tried many ordinances and
many means in the hope of finding a power which
would give him this victory — " his arm," he says, " was
never so long as to reach thereunto."

Conscious of his own good abilities, his knowledge
of the sacred Scriptures, and of numerous old philo-
sophical works, Stephen Crisp thought to find an easy
task in opposing the argument of the young stranger.
He sought an opportunity for conversing with him,
and on the same day attended a meeting in which he
heard him preach the Gospel in the name and authority
of the Lord. This he at once felt that no wisdom of his
own could withstand. His reason also was convinced,
and with all its strength he was soon to uphold and
valiantly defend the views be had heretofore resisted.
Hard indeed would it be for him thus to humble
himself, but " a strong hand gave the stroke." " I was,"
he writes, " hewn down like a tall cedar. . . . The eye
that would see everything was now so blind that I
could see nothing certainly but my present undone and
miserable estate." In touching words he tries in his
journal to give some idea of the exceeding sorrow of
those days, in which all trust in his own righteousness
was swept away. In a sermon preached in after years,
he speaks of how it is God's will that " man shall be
beholden to Christ for all. . . . One would think it
should be no great matter," he adds, " for men to lay
aside their own works and duties and submit to Christ ;

STEPHEN CRISP AND HIS SERMONS. 133

but I tell you it is very hard, and I found it hard
myself." But He who has made the depths of the sea
a way for the ransomed to pass over, did not suffer His
servant to sink into utter despair. Dawn followed the
midnight darkness, and he felt a hope that this was the
forerunner of that light in which the blood of Jesus
Christ is known to cleanse from all sin. Weary of
warfare, watching and waiting, he yearned to know
how long this discipline must be borne ; yet he had to
learn that even this seemingly lawful desire must, like
all other self-will, be laid down.

"Upon a time," he writes, "being weary of my own thoughts
in the meeting of God's people, I thought none was like me,
and that it was but in vain to sit there with such a wander-
ing mind as mine was, while, though I laboured to stay it,
I yet could not as I would. At length I thought to go forth,
and as I was going the Lord thundered through me, saying,
' That which is weary must die,'' so I turned to my seat, and
waited in the belief of God for the death of that part which
was weary of the work of God. . . . And the cross was laid
upon me, and I bore it ; and as I became willing to take it
up I found it to be to me that thing which I had sought
from my childhood, even the power of God. . . . Oh ! the
secret joy that was in me in the midst of all my conflicts and
combats ; . . . manifold and daily were God's deliverances
made known to me beyond all recount or remembrance of
man. . . . And as the word of wisdom began to spring in
me, and the knowledge of God grew, so I became a counsel-
lor of them that were tempted in like manner as I had been,
yet was kept so low that I waited to receive counsel daily
from God, and from those that were over me in the Lord."

About four years after James Parnel's memorable
visit to Colchester, Stephen Crisp felt the love of God
so shed abroad in his heart as to reach to the whole
human family, with earnest desires to share with them

134

STEPHEN CRISP AND HIS SERMONS.

the unsearchable riches of Christ. He longed to be
made willing to go whithersoever the Lord should send
him, and he thought that he was so ; but when the call
came to leave wife and children, father and mother, in
order to visit the churches in Scotland, he found to his
cost that " all enemies were not slain indeed." Gladly
would he have excused himself on the easily-found
plea of unfitness, or the care of his family. and his
service in Colchester Meeting. He spoke of the subject
to some faithful ministers and elders, half hoping that
they would dissuade him from the performance of this
serious and arduous work ; but, on the contrary, they
urged him to be faithful in the carrying out of what
seemed to him to be his Master's will. This he made
up his mind to do, and, notwithstanding the sore trial
of his wife's opposition, he was kept in much patience
and quietness. As winter drew near he would fain
have put off his mission until the summer, but was
taught that the Lord's time must be his time ; he
wished to go by sea, but had also to learn that the
Lord's way must be his way, and the event proved
that there were fields for him to work in before reaching
Scotland.

His faithful obedience was rewarded ; and, as he was
more conscious of his Lord's presence than usual, his
journey became "joyful," though he was "weak, poor,
and low." He writes : " In every place my testimony
was owned, and divers were convinced of the everlasting-
Truth: then I marvelled and said, 'Lord, the glory
alone belongs to Thee ; for Thou hast wrought wonders
for Thy name's sake.' " With a heart constantly warmed
by the constraining love of Christ, he cheerfully pursued

STEPHEN CRISP AND HIS SERMONS.

135

his winter pilgrimage on foot, undaunted by many
dangers and difficulties caused by the movements of
the English and Scottisli armies.

He had indulged the hope that, this mission accom-
plished, he should be able to come back to his family
and quietly follow his calling ; but the Lord had need
of him to " be His witness unto all men of what he had
seen and heard." He was now about thirty-two years
of age, and the remaining half of his life was chiefly
spent in active and devoted labour for his Saviour ; and
probably, George Fox alone excepted, no one person
was so active in caring for the newly-formed churches
as Stephen Crisp. A few days' rest at home and a
short visit to the Friends in London were followed by
another northern journey, in describing which he alludes
to many being turned from darkness to light, and writes
of peace and joy as his portion, yet also of trials within
and without ; the latter including his imprisonment
when two hundred miles away from home. But the
Lord, to whom he looked for aid, suffered not his faith
to fail : yet, as he writes of finding the work every day
more and more weighty, can we wonder at his owning
that the hope of being freed from bearing these burdens
lived long in him ; but, simply and faithfully doing his
Master's bidding, he learnt to love the labour more and
more — until " nothing in the world seemed so desirable
to him as the spreading and publishing of His truth
through the earth ; " and a longing filled his heart to be
" as serviceable as possible in his generation, and to
keep himself clear of the blood of all men."

Fearless and forcible were his words of warning ;
several of the remarkable sermons preached by him in

136

STEPHEN CRISP AND HIS SERMONS.

London were taken down in shorthand by one of his
hearers, who was not a Friend, in one of which we read
the following passage : —

" How strangely doth the man talk, will some say, con-
cerning the Christian religion ! The Christian religion is all
England over ; go to any meeting in London and they will
tell you they are Christians. I would to God they were ;
that is the worst I wish for them all ! . . . There are many
in this city urging this very command of loving God with
all their hearts, and their neighbours as themselves, as fer-
vently as I can do, or anybody else ; and yet they will tell
you in the next breath that no man in London or in the
world can do this." At another time he says, " Is not man
God's creature, and cannot He new-make him and cast sin
out of him 1 If you say sin is rooted deeply in man, I say
so too ; yet not so deeply rooted but Christ Jesus is entered
so deeply into the root of the nature of man that He hath
received power to destroy the devil and his works, and to
recover and redeem man into his primitive nature of righteous-
ness and holiness ; or else that is false to say that He is able
to save to the uttermost all that come unto God by Him.
We must throw away the Bible if we say that it is impos-
sible for God to deliver man out of sin." And again,
" When you hear truth preached, there is an assent and
agreement with it in your minds ; but when a command comes
to be obeyed, and a cross to be taken up, and self-denial to
be shown, or some interest of trade lies in the way, let truth
go where it will, you must follow your interest."

In a sermon preached a few weeks before his death
the following remarks occur : —

" What if I live in the truth, that will not serve thee ;
and if I be a holy man, that will not sanctify thee ; thou
must hearken to truth's speaking in thyself ; thoumayst hear
it speaking it in thy own heart before thou be an hour older.
... If thou join with the truth and with that which is holy,
thou shalt have strength and ability to withstand temptation,
and overcome it ; and (I may speak with reverence) Christ
hath bound Himself to those that trust in Him."

STEPHEN CRISP AND HIS SERMONS.

137

In 1663 Stephen Crisp crossed the sea on the first

of the thirteen or fourteen visits made by him to the

Low Countries, where a large number of persons had

adopted the views of Friends ; a mission which " the

unknown land and unknown speech " did not hinder

him from accomplishing in cheerfulness and peace, and

with very satisfactory results. When, four years later,

he again felt himself called to go there, he found " a

dear companion " in Josiah Coale, who died in the

following year at the age of thirty-five — his constitution

prematurely worn out by the persecutions and hardships

which he had encountered in the service of his Lord,

x

though long borne up by a manly, dauntless spirit.
Many were the seals set to Josiah Coale's ministry,
which was of a very striking character ; and most
ardent were the longings implanted in his soul for the
prosperity of Zion. Just before his death, when George
Fox and other of his friends were around him, he said,
" Be faithful to God and have a single eye to His glory,
and seek nothing for self, . . . then will ye have the
reward of life. For my part, I have, walked in faithful-
ness with the Lord. And I have peace with Him. . . .
His majesty is with me, and His crown of life is upon
me. So, mind, my love to all friends." Soon after-
wards he said to Stephen Crisp, " Dear heart, keep low
in the holy seed of God, and that will be thy crown
for ever."

It was in this year (1688) that Stephen Crisp was
imprisoned in Ipswich Gaol, where one of his valuable
pamphlets — " The Plain Pathway Opened " — was writ-
ten. Sewel speaks of visiting him during his captivity,
which he bore with great cheerfulness and perfect

138

STEPHEN CRISP AND HIS SERMONS.

contentment. His ministry had been the means of
considerably adding to the number of Friends in Ipswich,
to whom he still preached the Gospel when they came
to see him. A heaven-taught submission to all God's
will concerning him had altogether taken away the
sting from sorrow : bearing the image and superscription
of Christ, fervent were his desires to " render unto God
the things which are God's." Thus, when he writes in
his journal of the presence and power of the Lord leading
him from country to country, he adds, " I was obedient
thereunto, not of constraint now, but of a willing mind ;
counting His service a freedom, feeling myself freed
from the cares of this life, having now learnt to cast all
my care upon Him."

In the spring of 1669 he went, at the bidding of his
Lord, from the Netherlands into Germany, apparently
at the peril of life itself while passing through lands
shrouded with the darkness of superstition. Yet he
was safely led on to Griesham, near Worms, where he
found a blessed service in speaking a word in season to
many who were weary with long years of trial for con-
science' sake : amongst these sufferers, others, whilst
hearing him, were constrained to cast in their lot. One
cause of trouble was the imposition by the Palsgrave of
an annual fine on Friends for their meetings, which
they did not feel it right to pay, and three times the
amount was taken from them, an exaction borne with
" great joy and gladness," for the sake of Him who had
suffered for them, and who now called them to display
His banner because of the truth. Stephen Crisp had an
interview with the prince, in consequence of which the
persecution was checked.

STEPHEN CRISP AND HIS SERMONS.

139

The following extracts from his sermons show the
value set by Stephen Crisp on spiritual worship and
Christ's own teaching : —

" Travail on in the faith committed to you and you will be
more than conquerors ; . . . your communion will not be in
words and doctrine and principles of faith ; but your com-
munion will be with God the Father and His Son Jesus
Christ. And so in all your meetings together the joy of the
Lord will be your strength, and the joy of His great salva-
tion your covering ; and He will manifest His gracious pre-
sence with you. . . . When a man or woman comes to
this pass, that they have nothing to rely upon but the Lord,
then they will meet together to wait upon the Lord. And
this was the first ground or motive of our setting up meetings ;
and I would to God that this was the use which all that
come to them would make of them. . . . People cry out of
the bondage of corruption and of their subjection to sin and
Satan. I would they were in earnest ! . . . Now, if there
was but a willingness in every one of us freely to give up
ourselves to that Power that created us, to obey His will, I
am sure there is never a man or woman among us shall long
be without a knowledge of it. . . . But methinks the sound
and noise of flesh and blood grows loud here : I would be
subject to God, but I would not have Him cross my interest
and deprive me of that I love and thirst after. ... If you
will become spiritual, and partake of spiritual blessings and
benefits, I would advise you to turn from all kinds of reason-
ings that come from the pit of darkness. ... As many as
are led by the Spirit of God they are the children of God.
. . . As soon as a man comes to adhere and join to the poiver
of God revealed in his soul, he sees the coming of the kingdom
of God ; he sees it at a distance : he saith within himself, ' I
will follow my Captain — I will become subject to the king-
dom of Christ.' "

Again, in relating the manner in which he and his

friends had grown in grace, he says : —

" Jesus was our great minister ; we waited upon Him and
trusted in Him, and He taught us Himself. He hath minis-

140

STEPHEN CRISP AND HIS SERMONS.

tered to us at our silent and quiet waiting upon Him those
things that were convenient for us : He hath not only given
strong meat unto men, but hath ministered of the sincere
milk of His word unto babes that lived in sincerity and self-
denial, loving God above all things. And He taught and
conducted us in our way — this way of simplicity — until our
understandings came to be opened ; until our souls came to
be prepared to receive the mysteries of His kingdom."

In a sermon preached a few days before his death he
says : —

" When a man or woman come to a meeting to worship
God and hear the word spoken outwardly, they must pray for
something that may be for their good : Lord, give me some-
thing that may support my soul, and something that may
withstand temptation. People should have their minds thus
exercised ; and they should think upon the name of the
Lord according to their particular necessity ; they should
pour out their supplication to the Lord : this is such worship
as God looks for, and such as He likes and is pleased with.
He will deliver those that thus pray to Him out of tempta-
tions, so that they shall not prevail over them. . . . There
are none of you, if you would not be lazy and idle, but you
might be delivered every day and have experience in your
own souls that, when the devil comes and tempts, the Lord
is at hand to deliver you by His grace and power."

As Stephen Crisp was now able to preach in the Dutch
language, the meetings which he had in Holland were
very large. " Some present," he says, " were overcome
by the power of Truth, and the overflowings of my cup
made many glad." A journey to the southern part of
Germany, where a great weight rested on his spirit on
account of the wickedness which abounded, was followed
by a visit to the Friends at Frederickstadt, whom he
found assembled at their week-day meeting, and with
whom he was refreshed in the " fellowship of the blessed

STEPHEN CRISP AND HIS SERMONS.

141

Gospel." Meetings especially for the public were also
held here, and were very striking ones, leaving a marked
effect on the city, which was afterwards visited by
William Penn and Thomas Green. Before leaving,
Stephen Crisp and his companion Peter Hendricks,
met with their friends early in the morning in order to
commit one another to the Lord's care ; while the final
parting, " in that love which never changeth," took place
at the river Jider, without the city.

In 1673 some six months were spent by Stephen
Crisp in London and its suburbs, where the Lord, he
says, was with him daily, to the rejoicing of thousands.
" By His mighty power were many strong oaks bowed,
and many subtle foxes prevented of their prey, and
many wandering sheep brought home who had for a
long time longed to find the fold of rest ; and whose
souls will ever live with my soul in His covenant, to
praise Him world without end."

Durin<_>- his next mission across the seas he was led
to visit " that hard-hearted city of Emblen," where a
physician named Hasbert kindly welcomed him, and
even offered his house for the holding of meetings,
which were well attended. After a while some " were
drawn in love to God " to assemble there regularly for
spiritual worship. When this became known in the
city sore persecution followed ; a few were banished
sixteen or twenty times, spoiled of their goods, stripped
of their clothing, and then driven through the streets
to the ships in which they were to sail : " all which
and much more" Stephen Crisp remarks, " by the mighty
power of the Lord, did these innocent, harmless lambs,
bear with great patience and quietness, and were not

142 STEPHEN CRISP AND HIS SERMONS.

dismayed at all these cruelties." A year or two later,
on revisiting Emblen, he found that a fine of £25 was
to be imposed on any one who should harbour a Friend
in his house; whereupon he wrote a book of " sharp and
sound judgment" to the rulers and priests, who, how-
ever, did him no harm ; for, as he says, a poiver came
over them. Nor was the labour lost, for we find that
the Friends soon had more freedom than formerly.
At other times also he successfully pleaded on behalf of
his persecuted brethren : yet throughout his constantly-
renewed Continental labours no hand was laid on him,
although, when in the Spanish Netherlands, he could
but boldly bear his testimony against the grievous
idolatry which weighed down his soul.

During an exceptional winter, chiefly spent at his
home at Colchester, he visited the neighbouring meet-
ings— a service accomplished with " much joy of spirit,"
in spite of severe bodily suffering : —

"I found," he remarks, "that though through long experi-
ence my senses were exercised in the service of God, yet I had
nothing to trust to how and after what manner to minister
to the Church of Christ, but the same that led me in the
beginning — even the immediate operation of the power
that brings forth, in the will of God, all things suitable
to their season, that the glory might be to the power,
and the praises to Him that gives it, for ever and for ever-
more."

Again, he speaks of returning to his

" place in the will of God, remaining as a servant waiting
to he ordered, and as a child waiting to be fed."

To the faithful disciples who thus wait will not
service of some sort be surely sent by the Lord of the
harvest ?

STEPHEN CRISP AND HIS SERMONS.

143

Two or three years later Stephen Crisp's life was
threatened by a severe fever. God's presence was with
him, and into His hands he confidingly committed him-
self. When he found that his days were to be prolonged
he was well content that it should be so, as the one aim
of his soul was still to spend them " in the service of
God and His dear people." Apparently no meeting of
Friends in the nation was left unvisited by him.

In 1682, a sense having been given him of the
suffering soon to befall the Friends who lived in
Norwich, we find that at harvest-time it- came into
his heart, " in the dear love of God," to go again to
that city. Whilst worshipping with his brethren there
on the day of his arrival, the assembly was violently
broken up by a justice and constables, accompanied
by a rabble who seemed ready to devour their prey.
Stephen Crisp and about a dozen other Friends were
brought before the mayor and aldermen. Strong was
their desire to get him into their hands, but the Lord,
who had hitherto helped him, taught him how to avoid
the snares carefully set for him. As his mission to the
city was still unfulfilled, it would seem that the possi-
bility of any other course than that of performing it
did not enter his mind. Such simple faith and obedi-
dience could not be exercised in vain : in the two large
meetings which were -held, the power of the Almighty
wonderfully prevailed over all. It must have been
consoling to him at this time to foresee that, though
the fiery trial of persecution was about to test the faith
of the Friends here, they would be ready for the conflict,
being clad in the impenetrable armour of God.

In the following year his beloved wife died. Although

144

STEPHEN CRISP AND HIS SERMONS.

for thirty-five years her love and sympathy and trust in
Christ had been invaluable to him, grace was given in
his time of need to murmur not, but rather to praise the
holy name of Him who had made her what she was.

His second marriage took place in 1685, and was a
most happy union, though of short duration, for he
writes : — " It proved the pleasure of the Lord to try
me, whether I could part with, as well as receive, this
great mercy: . . . She was a woman beyond many,
excelling in the virtues of the Holy Spirit with which
she was baptised." Heavy as was the stroke, it was
softened by the share which was granted him of the joy
into which she had entered.

In 1689, in spite of many bodily infirmities, Stephen
Crisp, in company with other Friends, successfully
appealed to Parliament for the suspension of those laws
which had caused sore suffering for conscience' sake.
After describing the failing of his physical power, he says :
" Yet the word of the Lord lived in my heart, to the
refreshing of my soul, and the souls of many tender
babes that lived and grew up by the milk of it." This may
be imagined by those who read the remarkable sermons
delivered by him during the last few years of his life.

" There are," he says, " many that have had some taste of
great joy, and apprehensions of heavenly things to which
they have not attained, but they know what they are waiting
upon God for ; — not that they may have a little joy which
passeth through them, but come to have that joy and tran-
quillity which will accompany them in all their doings, and
their whole conversation. . . . Let such go on and follow
that guide by whom they have been directed, and they shall
at last come — through the Divine Spirit of Grace which they
followed, and so closely cleaved to — to have an entrance
administered to them abundantly into the salvation of God."

STEPHEN CRISP AND HIS SERMONS. 145

And again : —

" If it be truth which you own, then exercise faith upon it
— and whatsoever sin or temptation assaults you, say, I shall
overcome in the name of the Lord Jehovah ; I shall bring
thee under, be what lust, passion, or corruption, soever thou
wilt ; in the name of the Lord I shall overcome thee."

In the spring of 1692 it would seem that he felt the
time of his departure was at hand. When taking what
proved to be his last farewell of Colchester (before
leaving for London), in several meetings his ministry
both to Friends and others, was of an especially power-
ful and exceedingly striking character ; he spoke of his
wish to be clear of the blood of all men, and of his
belief that he was so. In private families, also, the
Lord did indeed make manifest the savour of His know-
ledge by this good and faithful servant, whose mouth
was " as a well of life " to many a thirsty soul.

A few days before his death he preached at conside-
rable length at Devonshire House. When increasingly
ill, he was carried in a litter to Wandsworth (where in
early life he had acted as usher in the celebrated college
of Eichard Scoryer). To George Whitehead he said :
" I have a full assurance of my peace with God in
Christ Jesus.* . . . Dear George, I can live and die
with thee." When George Whitehead was parting from
him, he asked : " Dear Stephen, wouldst thou anything

* " For my part," was Stephen Crisp's strong language in one of
his sermons — " for my part, my tongue shall as soon drop out of my
mouth as oppose the doctrine of being justified by faith in Christ ;
but let me tell you this may be misapplied. ... If a man hope to
be saved by Christ, he must be ruled by Him. It is contrary to all
manner of reason that the devil should rule a man, and Christ be his
Saviour."

L

146

STEPHEN CRISP AND HIS SERMONS.

to friends ? " But his life's labour was ended now, and
he only answered : " Remember my dear love in Christ
Jesus to all friends." He died at Wandsworth, 1692,
aged sixty-four years, and was buried at the Friends'
burial-ground, Bunhill Fields.

A fitting conclusion to this short sketch of Stephen
Crisp and his Sermons will be found in his own words
in Gracechurch Street Meeting : — " I have considered
many a time that there are many brave men and women
in this aye that miyht have been eminent witnesses of God'
in this world, and borne their testimony to His truth, but
their faith has been iveak and ineffectual ; they have dis-
covered their unbelieving hearts, and have joined with
the common herd of the world, because they thought
such great things could never be done; that the kingdom
of Satan could never be pulled down and destroyed, and
the kingdom of Christ set up within us. But I would
hope better things of you, things that accompany salva-
tion ; and that He that hath begun a good work in you
will carry it on to perfection."

J 0 H JS| BAJ\|K£.

" I saw with wonderful clearness that we attain this nearness of
access, not by struggling and agonising with ourselves, . . . but
simply by ceasing to struggle and yielding the mind in trust to the
care of the living Saviour." — J. M. Washbuen.

149

JOHN BANKS.

" The soul that has made the discovery that it has nothing in
itself to hang upon, must hang upon Christ."— Dean Goulbuen.

On a winter's day in 1711 William Penn, whilst
walking, cane in hand, up and down his room, dictated
the preface to the autobiography of John Banks, whom
he had known for more than forty-four years, and had,
in the earlier days of his own religious experience, found
to be " an ordinance of strength to his soul." This
proved to be the last of Penn's literary productions.
" Friendly reader," he begins, " the labours of the
servants of God ought always to be precious in the eyes
of His people ; and for that reason the very fragments
of their services are not to be lost, but gathered up for
edification. I hope it will please God to make them
effectual to such as seriously peruse them, since we
have always found the Lord ready to second the services
of His worthies upon the spirits of their readers."

John Banks was an only child, and was born in
Cumberland, in 1637. When only fourteen, after having
made a good use of seven years' schooling, he was
employed as a schoolmaster. A year later, in order to
please his father and some others, he held a weekly
service in a chapel-of-ease near Pardshaw, where he read
the Bible and homily, sang psalms, and engaged in
prayer. One of his hearers, a highly educated but very
intemperate man, told him that he read well, and added

150

JOHN BANKS.

that he ought to use a form of prayer, offering to send
him one in a letter. No sooner had John Banks made
use of this form, than his mind was powerfully impressed
with the Apostle Paul's description of the Gospel which
he had to preach : " I neither received it of man, neither
was I taught it but by the revelation of Jesus Christ."
He knew that he had had this form from man, and,
moreover, from " one of the worst of many." The end
of the year was approaching when payment for his
services would be due to him, but he felt that he must
refuse it, and that he could not read in the chapel again.

" The dread of the Lord fell upon me," he writes, " with
which I was so struck to my very heart that I said to myself,
I shall never pray on this wise. And it opened in me, ' Go
to the meeting of people in scorn called Quakers.' It pleased
the Lord to reach my heart by His great power and pure
living Spirit, in the blessed appearance and revelation thereof,
in and through Jesus Christ ; whereby I received the know-
ledge of God, and the way of His blessed Truth, by myself
alone in the field before I ever heard any one called a Quaker
preach. But the first day I went to one of their meetings
the Lord's power so seized upon me that I was made to cry
out in the bitterness of my soul, in a true sight and sense of
my sins that appeared exceeding sinful ; and at evening, as
I was going to the meeting, I was smitten to the ground
with the weight of God's judgments for sin and iniquity,
and I was taken up by two friends. Oh ! the godly sorrow
that did take hold of me that night in the meeting."

There was very little ministry, but a Friend, who
deeply sympathised with John Banks' distress, was, as
he said, " made willing " to read a paper suitable to his
condition, and which was the means of giving him a
little comfort. He now remembered that in the midst
of his wildness and dissipation he had felt a restrain-
ing influence in his heart, but had given no heed to it.

JOHN BANKS.

151

" I did not," he continues, " only come to be convinced,
by the living appearance of the Lord Jesus, of the evil
of sin ; but by taking true heed thereunto, I came, by
one little after another, to be sensible of the work thereof
in my soul in order to tame and subject the wild nature
in me, and to cleanse me inwardly from sin that I might
be changed and converted." If the upward progress
was slow, it was also sure ; the few following years of
his life might not have been marked ones in his out-
ward history, yet doubtless they were of deep im-
portance in the sight of One who, having redeemed
him to God by His blood, had entered his tempest-tossed
heart, and with

" An unseen hand was building
For Himself a temple there."

During this time he found neither body nor mind
adapted to the "good and lawful" calling of a school-
master ; he therefore diligently employed himself in
learning his father's trade and a little husbandry, living
meanwhile with his parents, who, to his great joy,
he says, also " came to receive the Truth." Some
of his spare hours were spent alone in the woods, in
great distress from the temptation to despair. But the
enemy was not suffered to uproot the grain of faith
which had been sown in his soul ; and there were times
when, conscious of the sincerity and steadfastness of
his endeavours to follow his Saviour, he could even ask
himself, " What evil have I done since I received the
truth ? "

" So," he writes, " through faith in the power of God, and
shining of His glorious light in my heart, I overcame the
wicked one ; through a diligent waiting in the light and

152 JOHN BANKS.

keeping close unto the power of God ; in waiting upon Him
in silence among His people, in which exercise my soul
delighted. And oh ! the days and nights of comfort and
divine consolation we were made partakers of together ; and
the faithful and true in heart to God, still are ; but it was
through various trials and deep exercises."

Although he does not yet appear to have fully learnt
that lesson — which seems very hard to learn — of trust-
ing in the Lord with all the heart, he thus reveals the
secret of his steady growth in grace : " Now the way of
my prosperity in the Truth and work of God, I always
found was by being faithful to the Lord in what He in
the light manifested." After a while his mind became
more peaceful, and he began to hope that the sore
struggles with temptation were nearly ended ; aud great
was his grief when he found that, though much evil had
been overcome through the grace of God, Satan was well
able to invent new allurements when old ones failed to
ensnare. Yet, after all, victory must have been nearer
than he imagined, for he was becoming

"Confident in self-despair."

"Oh!" he says, "how was I humbled and bowed, and
laid low. Wherefore I took up a godly resolution in His
fear — '/ will rely upon the sufficiency of Thy Power, 0
Lord, for ever." So that about six years after I had received
the Truth by believing therein, I came to be settled in the
power of God, and made weighty in my spirit thereby."
Thus did he

" venture his all upon Christ,

And prove Him sufficient for all."

He refers to the conflict he passed through with
regard to his call to the ministry, but adds, " The Lord
through His power wrought me into a willing witness."

JOHN BANKS.

153

When lie was about twenty-five, he was one day attend-
ing a meeting of Friends held out of doors near Cold-
beck, when the congregation was disturbed by a justice
of the peace, who rudely rode into the group as they
sat on the ground. John Banks — who had knelt down
to pray — he violently struck with his horsewhip over
the head and face, and then ordered his man to take
him away, which he did by dragging him down the hill
by his hair. John Banks and three others, were com-
mitted to the common gaol, where they were kept for
several days without bread or water, because they could
not pay the covetous gaoler eightpence for every meal.
He told them he would see how long they could live
without food ; and as he would not allow their friends
to provide them even with straw, their only bed was the
prison window, where, on the cold stones of the thick
wall, there was room for one person to rest at a time.
Their companions are thus described by John Banks :
" A Bedlam man and four with him, for theft ; two
notorious thieves called Bedhead and Wadelad ; two
moss-troopers for stealing cattle ; and one woman for
murdering her own child." Bad enough such company
must have been at the best ; but soon these poor
creatures were freely supplied with drink by some
visitors, and began to abuse their quiet fellow-prisoners.
" In that very close, nasty place," writes John Banks,
" we were nearly stifled." Happily, the next day they
were removed to another room. The hearts of his
parents must have yearned for their only child ; but in
loving letters he begs them to be " not at all dejected or
cast down concerning him, but rather to rejoice. All I
desire is that you may come to say in truth, ' The will

154

JOHN BANKS.

of the Lord be done ! ' " He gives no details of out-
ward sufferings to add to their sorrow, but says that he
" never knew the worth of a prison so much before, to his
sweet peace and inward consolation."

About twelve months after his release he married ;
and four years later went with John Wilkinson to visit
the south and west of England, being made truly will-
ing, he says, " to leave his dear wife and sweet child,
and go forth in the power and spirit of the Lord Jesus."
They had many meetings on their way ; in Yorkshire
these were held daily, and were eagerly nocked to by
the people, who seemed to be hungering and thirsting
after righteousness. To his wife John Banks writes : —

" The further I am separated from thee, the nearer thou
art unto me, even in that which neither length of time nor
distance of place shall ever be able to wear out, or bring a
decay upon. ... I have been under weakness of body, but
nevertheless I have faith to helieve that whatsoever the Lord
is pleased to exercise me in, He will give me ability to per-
form, and nothing shall be able to hinder it ; and therefore
I am truly content whatsoever the Lord may suffer to ceme
upon me, because hitherto He has kept me, to His praise
and glory, and to my sweet peace. . . . The Truth of our
God prospers ; yea, very many are coming in to partake
thereof ; for people in many places are weary of the hireling
priests and dead formal worship, and their assemblies grow
thin."

Meanwhile his wife was brought low by a violent
fever, but writes that she is " well in mind and spirit,
and desires nothing more than that the will of the Lord
might be done in all things." The meetings held during
this journey were very large and satisfactory, and John
Banks says that to his companion and himself it had
been a sweet and precious time.

JOHN BANKS.

155

It was his desire that a brief record of what he was
enabled to do and suffer for Christ should " be kept on
record for the yood of ayes to come." Twelve times he
crossed the sea to Ireland, often in violent storms.
After he had sailed a few times from Whitehaven, the
sailors became very anxious to have him for a passenger,
saying, " You are the happiest man that ever we have
carried over sea, for we get well alon<j when we have
you."

He lived to see large results from his diligent and
protracted labours in eight meetings in his native
country, as well as in many other places. Besides perils
by sea, he tells us he had to brave " robbers by land, bad
spirits, and false brethren; . . . yet, through the strength
of the power of God was well kept and preserved in
and through all, having faith therein."

At the time of John Banks' second visit to Ireland
he thought it would be right to attend the half-year's
meeting at Dublin, so two days before it began he
went to Whitehaven, from which port he wished to
sail. Finding that the wind was from a very unfavour-
able quarter, his wife and friends asked him to delay his
voyage ; but his simple answer was that he " could not,"
and that he might rely upon Him who had power to
command the winds and seas. He then spoke to the
captain of a vessel and requested some of his crew, if
the wind became fair before the morning, to call for
him, which they said they would do with all their heart,
though apparently thinking it very unlikely that such
a speedy change would take place. But at daybreak
the hasty summons came, and the passage was an
excellent one, enabling him to attend the " glorious,

156

JOHN BANKS.

heavenly meeting," to which his heart had been drawn.
He felt himself especially directed to hold a meeting on
the following Sabbath at Wicklow, where great excite-
ment was caused by the announcement that an English
Quaker was going to preach, a priest having done all in
his power to prejudice the people against him. The
landlady of the inn where he and his friends lodged
begged him to walk to the carpenter's shop, where the
meeting was to be held, by a back way, as a guard of
musketeers was waiting at the Cross to take him ; but
this he did not think it right to do, saying that he had
a testimony to bear for the Lord in the town. Almost
as soon as he had taken his seat in the meeting, a ser-
geant, with no warrant but his halberd, followed by the
musketeers, ordered John Banks to appear before the
Governor, who had been persuaded by the priest and
his wife to imprison him and his friends. A crowd of
people followed them to the gaoler's house, which he
allowed them to enter although they occupied two or
three rooms. "So," writes John Banks, "in a little
time my mouth was opened in the demonstration of the
Power and Spirit of God, and I preached the way of
life and salvation to the people in and through J esus
Christ His Son, . . . and it was a blessed, heavenly day
for the Lord and His truth ; for His heavenly power
broke in upon many, and several were convinced."
When the priest told the sheriff of this gathering, he
added that he feared unless something was done all the
town of Wicklow would be Quakers, and then there
would be " no abiding for him." Notwithstanding many
threats, the gaoler allowed John Banks so much liberty
that almost every hour during the three days of his

JOHN BANKS.

157

imprisonment he had religious conversation with
numerous visitors, whose hearts the Lord had opened
to receive his message ; and he was only sorry that he
had not a longer time to spend with them. When told
by the Governor that he should be set free if he would
never again hold meetings at Wicklow, he declined
making this promise, but added : " If I do — if thou
hast power so to do — thou mayest put me in prison
again, and I believe I shall be as willing to" suffer then
as now." They separated in a friendly manner, the
Governor saying, " God keep you in that mind you are
now in, for I think you are in a good mind." Whilst
John Banks' parting words were, " Governor, fare thee
well ; and in so saying, I truly desire the welfare both
of thy body and soul."

Before leaving Ireland, believing that his work at
Wicklow was not altogether accomplished he returned
there for a short time, and in spite of threatened oppo-
sition " a blessed, heavenly, peaceable meeting " was
held. When, two years later, he re-visited this town
and called on some Friends who were confined in the
prison, the gaoler said : " Oh, Mr. Banks, are you come
again ? I think you need not to have come any more,
for you did your business the last time you were here,
for I think all the town of Wicklow will be Quakers."
After two years more had passed away a still greater
change was manifest; the Governor was in England.
The soldiers had left, the priest was dead, a Friends'
meeting was established, and, as John Banks says,
" Truth still prospering." In company with some
others he had arranged to hold a meeting in a private
house at Antrim, but being prevented by a constable, he

158

JOHN BANKS.

addressed the people in the street, " turning their minds
to the teachings of God in themselves." The angry
constable made violent efforts to drag him out of the
assembly, but all power to do this seemed to be taken
from him, and also from another strong man whose ser-
vices he had enlisted. A violent storm was also raging,
the rain pouring down in torrents, " a true figure,"
remarks John Banks, " of their raging, persecuting
spirit.'" Yet he could describe it as "a glorious, heavenly
day, for the Lord's power and heavenly presence in a
most glorious manner did appear in the meeting, and
many were convinced and several came clearly forth to
own and receive the Truth."

In 1675, John Banks attended the Yearly Meeting,
which he says that he would not have missed for all
that could be mentioned in the world. " Oh, how near,"
he writes, " were we to the Lord, and how near and
dear one unto another, in the unity and fellowship of
His holy, blessed Spirit ! . . . Oh, that I may never be
forgetful of this glorious, heavenly, and living appearance
of our God with us, by His glorious power and life-
giving presence." He tells his wife that he cannot fix
the time for his return home, his secret cry to the Lord
being, " Let me not go hence except Thy presence go
with me ; " and expresses his hope that already his
labour of love had been blessed to many souls.

The following year, John Watson being his com-
panion, " many precious and heavenly meetings " were
held in Ireland, although, as John Banks says, they
were sometimes disturbed by " the collegianists rushing
in like so many wild beasts out of the forest ; but the
Lord," he adds, " by His power is pleased so to tame

JOHN BANKS.

159

them that they are put to silence and made to be quiet.
. . . Our travels and exercises are made very comfort-
able unto us, because of the power and presence of the
Lord that doth go along with us." In the same letter
he writes : " Oh, that Friends might live in love . . .
and whatsoever would arise among them that in anywise
tends to the breaking of their heavenly unity and
brotherly fellowship, and sowing of dissension in the
churches of Christ, may be nipped in the bud." After-
wards his friend and himself crossed in a half-decked
boat to Scotland, and we read again of " the Lord's power
chaining down some wild scoffing people at two heavenly
meetings " in Edinburgh. Before reaching Douglas the
travellers lost their way on a mountain amidst snow and
ice, not reaching that town until late at night ; but the
meeting held on the morrow with the few Friends there
was a time of refreshing from the presence of the Lord.

Soon after returning home John Banks suffered from
a severe pain in the shoulder, which, passing into the
arm and hand, increased until they became powerless,
and began to wither, and medical aid proved unavailing.
At length, one night whilst asleep, he " saw in a vision "
that he was with George Fox, and thought that he said
to him, " George, my faith is such that if thou seest it
thy way to lay thy hand upon my shoulder, my arm
and hand shall be made whole throughout." For two
days and nights his mind was strongly impressed with
the idea this was, as he says, " a true vision," and that
he ought to go to George Fox, who was then at bis home
at Swarthmoor Hall. We certainly cannot wonder that
he felt this to be " a near and great trial of faith," and
that it was only after much mental conflict that he

160

JOHN BANKS.

became willing to do so. After attending Swarthmoor
Meeting he went to George Fox's residence, and, in a
private interview with him in the hall, told him of
his dream and the impressions which had followed,
at the same time showing him his arm. They walked
together silently for a short time, until George Fox
turned, and laying his hand on John Banks's shoulder,
said, " The Lord heal thee within and without." Then
they parted, John Banks going to Marsh Grange, the
residence of Thomas Lower (a son-in-law of George
Fox) ; as he sat down to supper he suddenly discovered
that he had raised his hand and was using it, just as
he had been wont to do three months before ; at which
he says, his "heart was broken into true tenderness
before the Lord." The recovery was complete, and on
the following day he went to his home. George Fox's
remark when they next met was, " John, thou mended ?
Thou mended ? " and on receiving an affirmative answer
he added, " Give God the glory," which indeed John
Banks was most ready to do.*

During a meeting held at a private house at Dull-
verton, an informer entered and took down the names of
some who were present, being also very abusive to them,
and to John Banks who was preaching ; and who was
constrained to pause and say, " Friends and people, mark
and take notice of the end of that wicked man." After
a while this man was hung for the murder of his wife.

* " Every true revival of religion," remarks a recent writer, " is
unquestionably accompanied by signs which are not trickery. . . .
No great popular return to the habits of piety has ever been made,
from the time of the Apostles, without the occurrence of certain
spiritual phenomena which cannot be entirely explained away by
any theory."

JOHN BANKS.

161

In 1678 John Banks was, he says, " moved to give
forth a paper " which was read in many meetings ; a
few extracts follow. After alluding to Christ as
"the High Priest of our profession, our Kedeemer and
Eestorer, our Captain, King and Lawgiver, our ever-
lasting Shepherd," he continues: —

" Although many have been our trials both within and
without, the Lord by the all-sufficiency of His power hath
wrought our deliverance through all, as we* have and do
rely upon the same, so that sorrow and sighing is fled away,
and everlasting joy is sprung up ; even because of the glory
and excellency of the power which hath appeared, which is
all-sufficient to work our deliverance, and that throughout ;
yea endless joy is known here, endless comfort and satisfac-
tion.'"

The following counsel seems peculiarly fitting from
one who himself faithfully followed his Saviour : —

" Oh the great care and tenderness God hath had over us.
Did He call us to be idle 1 Surely nay. Did He give a gift
unto male and female that we should hide it in the earth,
and not improve it to His glory? Oh, nay. Hath He done
what He hath done for us that we should always be as
children, when we could neither speak nor act as a man ?
Oh ! surely nay. But that we should grow up in stature
and strength before Him as perfect men and women in Christ
Jesus our Holy Head ; that we might all work together as
a body fitly framed in holy order in His heavenly power and
pure spirit."

In the same epistle we find this practical advice : —

" Be faithful, careful and diligent in keeping of all your
meetings in the name and power of God ; and cry not, ' My
business, my business, ray work and my trade,' when you
should go and wait upon, worship, and do service for the
Lord ; but mind the Lord's work and business, and live by
faith, and you will have time enough to do your own."

About this time John Banks felt that "a peculiar

M

162

JOHN BANKS.

testimony " was given him against what he calls " a
wicked spirit of separation," for he believed that Satan,
being envious of the progress of the Redeemer's cause,
was doing all the mischief in his power ; in one,
especially, of the thirteen meetings held by Christopher
Story and himself on their way to the Yearly Meeting
in 1679, John Banks was conscious of this separating
spirit, but felt that it was " chained down by the Lord's
eternal power." In a letter to his wife, from London,
\e remarks that such was the glorious appearance of
the Lord in all the meetings that his heart broke into
tenderness whenever he thought of it. In the week
preceding the Yearly Meeting peaceful and quiet meet-
ings, apparently held for the public, were attended by
thousands.

Of a different character were the meetings he after-
wards had in the country, which greatly distressed him
on account — he says — of " that spirit of separation and
division which had sown much discord in the Church
of Christ." In Wiltshire this trial reached its height.
One night, sleep having entirely forsaken him, Chris-
topher Story, who was still his companion, kindly said
to him in the early morning : " Dear heart, John, I
think thou hast slept none this night ; I will get up
and walk abroad, perhaps thou mayst get some sleep."
" I find no want of sleep," was the reply ; " howbeit,
thou mayst do as thou hast a mind." Soon John
Banks fell asleep, to dream vividly that he was despe-
rately attacked by " three ugly, serpentine creatures ; "
having overcome two of them, he was in the midst of
a terrible struggle with the last when he awoke. He
was sure that this vision indicated the opposition

JOHN BANKS.

163

which would rise against him that day, and earnestly
prayed for help. As he sat in meeting three men
entered, who were strangers to him, yet he felt certain
that bitter enmity dwelt in their hearts ; and, as soon
as he was constrained to speak against the evils of dis-
sension, their hatred very plainly showed itself, by their
angry countenances, and by their rising in turn with
the intention of interrupting him ; one of. them even
went up to him whilst he was still preaching, and un-
buttoned his coat, apparently with the intention of re-
sorting to physical force. But, as John Banks says, the
Lord's power was too strong for them ; they silently
resumed their seats, and we read that in the latter part
of the meeting " Friends were abundantly comforted
in the living enjoyment of the Lord's power and
presence."

Early in 1684, John Banks having conscientiously
refused to pay tithes (amounting to 6s. 8d.), he was
committed to prison at Carlisle, where he was confined
for nearly seven years ! But he was still the Lord's
freeman, and, constrained by His love, he preached from
the casement window, notwithstanding the menaces of
clergymen, mayor, aldermen, and gaoler, of which he
says that he took no notice, knowing the furthest of all
their power, and trusting in the all-sufficient power of
God. Very violent measures were frequently taken by
the cruel gaoler to put a stop to his ministry ; but he
writes that the Lord never failed in the hour of greatest
need to bear up the spirits of his fellow-sufferers and
himself " with courage and boldness, for His own name's
sake, whose power and presence was daily manifested
amongst them." John Banks' words to the infuriated

164

JOHN BANKS.

mayor were : " The Lord has opened my mouth, and
thou and all the assistance thou canst get in the city
cannot stop it ; " and, in reply to a further threat, he
added : ,; I neither fear thee, thy gag, nor the common
gaol." He told the gaoler that wherever he might
place him, as a prisoner he would be subject to him,
but in what the Lord required he was resolved in His
name to stand faithful ; that he well remembered the
joy and gladness with which, twenty years before, he
had been enabled to suffer confinement in the common
gaol; "and thinkest thou, man," he continued, " I will
play the coward now after so many years ? " He con-
fesses that not only was his body bruised, but that his
health was also impaired by the gaoler's cruelty ; yet
he can tell his wife in a letter that he has " great peace
and soul-satisfaction from the Lord," and, as usual,
writes in a strain of praise and thanksgiving : —

" Happy is he whose heart
Hath found the art

To turn his double pains to double praise."

One summer evening the gaoler carried out his threat
of confining John Banks (who had been ill for some
time) in the common gaol, which was so crowded already
that there was barely space enough for the prisoners
either to sit or lie. The first night John Banks and a
Friend who was with him could only find a place close
by a disgusting sink, the gaoler tauntingly telling them
that if there was not room for them by it they might
go into it. Here they were kept for a fortnight, and
" the Lord," writes John Banks, " was pleased to make
it as a place of healing and restoration of strength to
me ; . . . endless praises, honour, and glory be given to

JOHN BANKS.

165

Him." Even whilst detained in this dark gaol, he
employed himself, as was his wont throughout his long
imprisonment, by working at his trade of glover and
fellmonger. He was at length liberated in 1691, by
William III.'s Act of Grace.

" How came it, men of faith, to pass
That ye were mighty handed?
How brake ye down the gates of brass,
When few of ye were banded 1 "

" How was it, lovers of your kind,

Though ye were mocked and hated,

That ye with clear and patient mind
Truth's holy doctrine stated t

In God, as in an ark, ye kept ;

Around — and not above you — swept

The flood, till it abated."

After his liberation he took a religious journey to
the west of England, where the Lord so blessed his
labours that his " travel and exercises were made very
sweet, comfortable, and delightsome." Writing to his
wife and children from Bristol, he remarks : " it is such
who are kept near unto the Lord in their hearts, who
are kept living, fresh and tender ; for He causes His
heavenly rain and gracious showers to be poured forth
upon them, that they are made to say, ' What manner
of love is this, wherewithal the Lord our God hath loved
us ? And what manner of persons ought we to be ? ' "

In the latter part of this year John Banks' wife died.
Although this was " the greatest trial that ever he had
met with, above anything here below," the Saviour in
whom he steadfastly trusted bore up his sorrowing soul.
The warmth of his domestic affections, the earnestness
of his solicitude for the welfare of his children, his

166

JOHN BANKS.

loving interest in his servants, are abundantly shown
in his numerous letters. His travels in England alone
were very extensive, and a list of even the counties he
visited would he too long for insertion here ; allusion
has already been made to Scotland, and to his repeated
voyages to Ireland ; his labours were greatly blessed to
many, some of whom became in their turn faithful
ministers of the Gospel.

In 1696 John Banks thought it would be best for
him to take up his residence in Somersetshire, and in
the same year he entered into his second marriage.
During the last fourteen years of his life he often
attended the London Yearly Meeting, and undertook
many religious visits to the north and west of England,
even reaching the Land's End. In the latter part of
his life he suffered intensely from gout: at one time
his neighbours were called to the house, as it was
thought that his last hour was come ; but to his own
soul these words were applied : " Thou must not go
hence yet, thou hast not wholly finished the work of thy
day," and from that moment he felt no doubt that he
should rally for a time. Great as was his affliction,
even more than he was able to express, so also, he says,
the tender care of his Heavenly Father was beyond
utterance. As he was now unable to walk to the
Meeting-house, the Friends assembled for worship at
his house, where the Monthly Meetings were also held.
The following extract is from a letter written to an
intimate friend : —

" That which makes us near and dear one to another is
because we have received certain knowledge that we are the
children of one Father, begotten again to a lively hope in

JOHN BANKS.

167

and through Jesus Christ hy the quickening of His eternal
power and spirit. ... As a tender Father He has always
waited and still doth, to he good and gracious unto us, with
His gracious rain ami heavenly dew that He hath caused
many times to fall upon us, that we might grow from one
stature and degree of holiness to another — that so we might
come to answer the good end wherefore He has done what
He has for us, and made us a people that were none. . . .
Happy are they who can say in truth that what they do in
His service, they do it as unto the Lord."

Two months before his death, although very weak, he
attended several neighbouring meetings — at a Monthly
Meeting preaching for an hour and a half to the comfort
and refreshment of his friends, whom he earnestly
exhorted to a holy zeal for God. His exhaustion was
such that he needed the support of two men when
going to his lodging ; but he was very cheerful, and on
the evening of the same day had a meeting to which
the public were invited.

Notwithstanding the extreme pain which accompanied
his last illness, the praise of the Lord was still his theme.
" I am rich," he said, " in faith towards God, and my
cup is full of the love of God." He addressed a young
man who came to take leave of him with these words :
" The Lord be with thee, and I desire thee in His love
to give up in obedience to the workings of the Spirit of
God in thy heart, and then He will do great and glorious
things for thee." The intimate friend who gives the
account of his last illness, adds : " He earnestly desired
Friends to keep in the unity of the Spirit which is the
bond of perfect peace, with a great deal more good
advice and counsel ; it being attended with the living
divine power of the great eternal God, which did tender
the hearts of many of those present He said

168

JOHN BANKS.

that he had nothing to do but to die ; he was very-
sensible to the last, and after all his violent pains he
had a very easy passage, and so died in peace the 6th
of the Eighth Month, 1710, aged seventy-three years,
and is undoubtedly entered into the rest which remains
for the people of God. The Lord prepare us all more
and more for the entering thereinto, through the alone
merits and mediation of His dear Son, our Lord and
Saviour Jesus Christ."

In lives which, like John Banks', have steadily shed
light around them, because they reflected the rays of
the Sun of Kighteousness, we see the blessed result of
an implicit trust in Christ, and a full and practical
belief in the direct and perceptible influence of the
Holy Spirit. " Where people," writes John Woolman,
" are divinely gathered into a holy fellowship and faith-
fully abide under the influence of that Spirit which
leads into all truth — they are the light of the world.
Now holding this profession to me hath appeared
weighty, even beyond what I can fully express."

HUMPHRY gMITH A^D Hip
WORK£.

"Teach us that as we yield ourselves wholly to be possessed of
the Spirit in which Thou didst bear the Cross, we shall be made
partakers of the power and the blessing, to which the Cross alone
gives access." — -Andrew Murray's "Abide in Christ."

171

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

" With Himself God hath and doth daily gratify me with a full
reward for all, and all manner of, my manifold trials and daily
sufferings and exercises. . . . Him alone it was that my broken
heart was by the power of His constraining love resolved to follow
for ever, even through the greatest difficulties, and the hardest
straits, trials, and hardships, with all manner of outward and
inward sufferings, that might be permitted to happen unto, or fall
upon, any one of the children of men." — From a lette* of Humphry
Smith, dated from Winchester Prison.

When Benjamin Seebohm was preaching in Bradford
Meeting-house in 1846, for the last time before his
departure for America, he said that " his mind had been
carried back to a period two hundred years ago, when a
remarkable visitation was extended to the people of this
land, and men were stirred up to exhibit Christianity
to the world, not only in its fundamental principles,
but in its practical bearings. . . . They were much
misunderstood by those who, however sincere in adopt-
ing their own modes of serving God, failed to draw the
same inferences from the same premises. But believing
they were under the influence of the Spirit, that it
was God Himself who spake to them in the secret of
their hearts, they dared not say to Him, 'Thus far
shalt Thou go and no further.' . . . The life-blood of
religion circulated not only at the heart, but to the
extremity of every limb ! . . . What tenderness to good
lay at the root of their supposed stubbornness and
obstinacy : that which is pliable to good will be unbending
to evil.'"

In the long roll of names which might be given
from the earliest ages to the time of the Apostle Paul,

172

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

and from the time of the Apostle Paul to the present
day, as exemplifying the words last quoted, it would not
perhaps be easy to find a more appropriate one than
that of Humphry Smith. Yet little can be learnt about
his life, except from allusions now and then made by
himself in his works. These, whilst still in manuscript,
he had bound, and presented the volume to his only
son, writing within it the request that it should be
kept safe and unspoiled, so that his love to Christ might
be read and seen in years to come. After his death this
book was published " by Andrew Sowle, at the Crooked
Billet, in Holloway Lane, near Shoreditch, in 1683."
Only a very few copies are, it is said, extant.

Some idea of his holy constancy may be formed
from the following words of his own, written whilst a
prisoner : " How can I but declare the Lord's wondrous
works, and proclaim His Name wherever I come, and con-
fess Him before men, though I should suffer much more
prisoning, dungeon, and whipping, than I have done ?
Surely His Name I will declare in the world . . .
His love constraineth me, whose name is called Jesus,
who hath and doth save from sin, for whose Name's
sake I have been brought before Eulers, haled and
beat out of the synagogues, numbered amongst trans-
gressors, tried at Assizes as an offender, yet there denied
the liberty of a murderer ; being six times imprisoned,
twice stripped naked and whipped with rods, and since
put into Bridewell. Once put into and kept long in a
dungeon for praying ; often abused in prison ; some-
times near death ; in trials often, in perils often, in loss
of goods, in daily reproaches, and in that which has been
greater than all these things ; and yet I have been

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

173

preserved unto this day by the power of Him who is
the Light, and the only Son of God, to whom be eternal
glory."

The place and date of Humphry Smith's birth are
both unknown ; but in his address " To all Parents of
Children " we find a few particulars of his early days,
when the first words in the Bible which, to use his own
forcible expression, " pierced his heart, and remained as
a thing printed and sealed there from the pure love of
God," were " He hath filled the hungry witli good
things, and the rich hath He sent empty away." His
young heart was often tender and contrite, and his
parents' utter absence of sympathy, and the harshness
of his father, which, even at the age of . six or seven, was
the almost daily cause of bitter crying, must have been
a crushing trial.

When reviewing his infancy, he apparently feels that
their conduct had provoked him to wrath, and had thus
hindered him from coming to Christ. Yet this could
not have been altogether the case, for he writes of God's
love being exceeding prevalent upon his little tender
heart, and much more precious than anything of the
world. Sometimes," he adds, " as I went along the way
when it came into my heart, then should I even as it
were beg and cry, with many tears, and had boldness
towards God, as towards a familiar friend, though much
in submission and fear." And when, poor child, he
could find a place where he felt cpiite sure of being
undiscovered, he would kneel in earnest prayer; and he
remarks that lie certainly never knew the kingdom of
righteousness and peace until he again became as he
was when a little child.

174

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

If a companion struck him, he would not return the
blow ; and great was his distress when, notwithstanding
his earnest pleadings, he was compelled by his father or
mother to destroy a puppy or kitten. " My life in me
was grieved to do it," he says, " which may be a warning
to all parents that they be not the cause of the harden-
ing of their children's hearts, for that which hardens the
heart separates from God, who is love, and from Christ,
who comes to save the life." Some advice follows on
moderation in discipline, which is more applicable to
Humphry Smith's day than to our own, which has,
perhaps not altogether inappropriately, been called "the
age of obedient parents."

Even at this early period he strongly disapproved of
infant baptism. When he one day said that he should
never stand as a godfather, some one who was present
swore at him, and replied that it was a pity any one did
it for him. He answered, " I matter not if they had
never done it, for I was never the better."

When he was about ten years old his father some-
times sent him to market to sell things, and he was often
-called a fool and dunce because he would not ask more
for the goods than the price at which he was allowed to
sell them. He often got into trouble from his parents'
dislike to his quietness and silence when his heart was
filled with serious thoughts. Now and then he would
retire to the woods to wait on God.

" Sometimes the love of God," he says, " would break
through me, and His Word would make my heart soft, and I
felt the same then which now is my life ; and now I know
that those that wait on the Lord renew their strength ; and
though it is written the Lord was weary of the people's
sacrifices and with their words, yet it was never written in

HUMPHRY SMITH AMD HIS WORKS.

175

Scripture that the Lord was weary of those that waited upon
Him. . . . The Lord hath not left Himself without a witness
in every conscience ; and it is Christ that is given for a
witness (Isa. lv. 4). And certainly my soul was cut off from
the Life when I was forced from hearing His voice in me ;
and I do affirm in the presence of the Lord God that I had
not returned out of the degenerate state which I was hurried
into, if I had not waited in and been obedient unto the light
of Christ which was in me of a child. . . . The Lord
knoweth I was long not knowing where to find the rest,
having been hurried and led out from my true Guide."

When, at the request of others, he used a form of
prayer every night, instead of praying for himself, he
found that he had exchanged " a honeycomb for dry
heath." It seems to have been God's will that he should
fully learn, from personal experience, the utter emptiness
of a form of religion when altogether unaccompanied by
its living power. The clergymen to whom his attention
was now turned must have been perfectly unfit for their
responsible office, or he could not have had cause to make
this strou" assertion — " As true as the Lord God of

O

heaven and earth liveth, priests and sermons did me
more harm than all the rest." In his paper entitled, " A
Word to all Professors," he writes : —

" Now in the world there are sects, schisms, judgments,
and opinions, and according to the number of their fancies so
are there ways of worship. . . . Now, Friends, all you that
have looked after me and other men for teaching, now I can
write unto you what I know, that none teacheth like Him
who is now my Teacher indeed ; and will be yours if you are
•made willing and obedient to be taught, directed, and guided
by Him who is gathering His out of ad nations, kindreds, and
tongues.* . . . Oh ! leave all for Christ. You cannot serve

♦Elsewhere Humphry Smith shows his appreciation of the true
preaching of the Gospel. In his address " To the Tender-hearted

176

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

two masters ; you cannot be of the world and of God ; you
must witness a separation. . . . The sword is drawn against
the Man of Sin, to cut it down root and branch, and to set up
the kingdom of Christ in righteousness and true holiness.
And this work of the Lord shall certainly go on, and Men,
Devils, or the Gates of Hell shall never prevail against it."

George Fox describes him as " a worthy soldier and
follower of the Lamb, who kept his habitation in Christ
Jesus ; " and George Whitehead writes : — ■" I have this
testimony nakedly aud in the sight of the Lord to bear,
that he was a man fearing God and hating iniquity,
fervent and zealous against deceit and hypocrisy, and
endued with a heavenly gift." Another tells us that
" He never murmured at the exercises that he met withal
through wicked and unreasonable men." And one
who for a year shared with him " that straight,
noisome prison of Winchester," says that the love
of God constrains him to testify that " he was a
man that loved the Lord with an upright heart, and
that it was as meat and drink to him to do the will of
God, desiring to spend and be spent for the Gospel's
sake." Whilst his devoted and enthusiastic friend,
Nicholas Complin — who also ended his life in prison —
writes : " Is thy holy, innocent, pure life to be buried
in oblivion as not to be remembered by us any more ?
Are thy sufferings, with all thy valiant engagements
with the enemies of thy God to be blotted out of the
record of the children of the Most High ? Oh ! what

Lambs of Christ " he says, " The Lord in His power gave utterance
to His servants and messengers, and then were the words of His
Truth as food to the hungry, and with much gladness of heart was
the sound of the way of life by many received. . . . Then did the
Lord visit such again and again in His lovingkindness by His
servants."

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

177

saith my soul ? Nay, nay, let let it be had in living
remembrance among the followers of the Lamb, and let
it be written upon the tables of their hearts even to all
generations." And again, after describing him as being
very meek and of a quiet spirit, he says, " If any knew
not the Light which condemns the sin, then in the
meekness of love everlasting he would open unto them
the way thereunto, and labour mightily to bring them to
the knowledge of it. Oh ! how great wyas his love to
the eternal Truth which abounded in his heart ! And
how would he groan for the lost sheep ! Surely his love
was more than my tongue can express ; and his courage
did abound in a great measure."

It was at a time when Humphry Smith had abandoned
manifest ungodly habits, and was greatly engrossed with
his farm, " loving outward goods (as he says) more than
Christ," a man of note in his town, and a popular
preacher (although, to quote his own words, " not accord-
ing to the knowledge of the cross of Christ,") that the
secret voice of the Saviour called him to forsake all and
follow Him. He says that the strivings of his soul can
never be declared, for he knew that if he gave up his
heart to God he should be called on to testify against
the unrighteousness, not only of the people, but also of
their rulers, of clergy as well as laity ; and it was given
him to foresee the hardships, torture, and imprisonments
which would ensue. But he writes : — " The powerful
Life of God did so much break through me with such
unspeakable love that I was even willing to leave all
and walk with God." As he pondered the promise,
" They that turn many to righteousness shall shine as
the stars for ever and ever," the redemption of souls

N

178

HUMPHKY SMITH AND HIS WOEKS.

seemed so precious to him that he thought that if, in
the course of his life, he could hut convert one to God,
it "would he worth while to undergo any amount of
suffering ; and his fears concerning his unfitness for the
■work seemed to be answered by the words, " Who is it
that openeth the mouth ? Is it not I, the Lord ? "

But soon Satan showed his skilfulness in transform-
ing himself into an angel of light, by causing Humphry
Smith to suspect that the mighty work which the Holy
Spirit had been performing within him was a delusion,
and even that it was the effect of the very transforma-
tion which the Tempter had made before laying this
new snare. Then another temptation arose : " I have
seen children, wife, farms, and oxen," he writes, "to
hinder from the Kingdom of God; that which hindered
most was the love of outward goods." Yet, having
tasted of the bread of heaven, and drank of the living
water, some time elapsed before the united influence of
the world, the flesh, and the devil, could prevail to make
him " drive the power of God " from him ; and when he
did succeed in overcoming what he calls " the strivings
of the sweet and lovely Spirit of Truth," he was so
assailed by inward and outward trials that, being unable
to conceal his despair, it was reported he was becoming
mad. " I could neither pray nor believe," he says, " but
concluded that I was accursed from God for ever — and
that which disobeyed was accursed — and, being in a
sad, miserable condition, resolved to write a warning to
all people that they might take example by me and
never resist the Spirit as I had done." Before this was
accomplished, however, the Lord, who does not afflict
willingly, caused some rays of hope to pierce the dense

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

179

darkness which surrounded him. Yet it was not soon
fully illumined hy the Sun of Righteousness, for, to
use his own suggestive words, he was still striving " to
keep two kingdoms ; " but, in proof of His unfailing
love, the chastening hand of God was so heavily laid on
him that he at last told his wife and children that he
could bear it no longer, but that he must leave off
following the ways of the world with them, and devote
his life to the Lord. In after years, when referring to
God's dealings with him during this period, he says, " In
the Lord's judgments I now rejoice for evermore."
Whilst far from needlessly neglecting his outward
avocations, or separating himself from his family,
Humphry Smith seems to have been almost literally
called on to forsake all for Christ ; but none of the
sufferings through which his onward path lay caused
him to regret the choice he had made. On the contrary,
he writes, " I have found the promise true, for a hundred
times hundred-fold have I already received, blessed be
the Lord for ever."

Widely different as are the circumstances of the
disciple of the nineteenth century, does he not also find,
at certain stages of his spiritual pilgrimage, that there
is a something — such habits or pursuits as constitute
the spirit of the world to him in his own particular
position — which, if not abandoned, may greatly hinder
or altogether prevent his upward progress ; and that,
hard as the sacrifice may seem, Christ can give all the
strength that is needed for its accomplishment, and
" can and does," as Humphry Smith says, " with Him-
self make up for all," in a manner which must be
experienced in order to be understood ?

180

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WOKKS.

" The true desire," he writes, " of my present enlarged
heart for your eternal happiness is, That as the Lord of
Heaven and Earth hath counted you worthy of His
call, in the power of His grace which bringeth salva-
tion unto all, you may not judge yourselves unworthy
of the Kingdom of God, but may cleave unto His Truth
in the inward parts, leaving all that which hath kept
you from it, whatsoever it be ; and all that which hath
hindered you, and doth hinder from the life and virtue
of it in your own hearts — this all to leave behind you
for ever, to give it away freely, and as freely willing as
a man would part with dross for gold!" Again, he
remarks, " Such as knowingly deny their obedience in
anything to the light of Christ, He will deny them His
power in all things."

It is interesting to find that before this momentous

o

change had taken place, when daily preaching in one
pulpit or another — although, as we have seen, he was
by no means indifferent to worldly possessions — he
conscientiously declined receiving any sort of remunera-
tion, and felt that even had he lacked food and clothing
he could not do otherwise. On one occasion, when
offered £100 per annum, he refused it, saying, that he
would "rather go in sheepskins and goatskins, and eat
bread and drink water." The last time that lie preached
before the complete change in his views with regard to
ministry, he remarked to the congregation, " My mouth
is stopped at this present, but if ever the Lord shall
open my mouth again, I shall preach indeed ! " In
allusion to the ministry he writes : —

"Though Christ, after His resurrection, said, All power in
Heaven and in earth is given unto Me, go ye, therefore and

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

181

teach — yet they were to tarry until they had the power in
themselves ; and when that was come, then with that they
went and taught the nations, from the sensible feeling of that
which taught them how to teach. ... So the power and
virtue of the Holy Spirit coming forth from Christ, being
sent of the Father and received by the disciples (who, with
much desire, waited for that), empowered them to do that
which before they were commanded to do. . . . And as
Christ commanded them to go and teach, He also required
them to tarry — and so not to go — until they had received
power so to do ; and so it was the power of the Holy Ghost
in them which made them ministers; these were, and such
are, truly ordained ministers. . . . Then they went to teach
the nations, and converted thousands ! Thus it is with
Christ's followers now; they are not satisfied until they are
tilled with that which they heard of, and their souls thirsted
after ; and so it was with them then, they were filled with
what they wanted before ; and then from that which they
were filled with, they spoke forth."

Again, he asks,

" How can your hearts be restrained from an inexpressible
yearning after the advancing of the living Truth of God,
which He hath so freely made you partakers of] "

Humphry Smith's own ministry was remarkably
blessed ; George Fox says that, " he did convert and turn
many to the Lord Jesus Christ, that had been outward
professors, as he himself had been, to the possession of
Christ ; so that he did see, and was comforted in the
fruits of his labours in Christ." Not unfrequently he
felt himself commissioned to speak and write —

" As one to whom is given,
To know the wrath of outraged Heaven,
And to pour it forth."

"He spared not," writes Nicholas Complin, " but cut
on the right hand and slew on the left, and made the

182

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

arrows of his quiver to strike into the bowels of God's
enemies ; but he preached peace to the captive."
Another of his contemporaries alludes to the many-
seals to his ministry ; one of whom, Edward Waldren,
says that he hopes he shall never forget Humphry
Smith, or the memorable day on which he went with
some others to visit him in a prison, where he had
been confined after holding a largely-attended and
remarkable meeting at Andover, in which the opposition
of rude soldiers could not hinder the free course of
the word of the Lord. Edward Waldren was in deep
mental distress, and, to quote his own phrase, " void of
the saving knowledge of Jesus," and, having heard of
Humphry Smith, greatly longed to see him, and there-
fore attended a meeting which was held in the prison.
He writes, " I have cause for ever to praise the Lord in
the behalf of this tender, innocent, faithful man to
God's truth and people ; his memorial cannot pass into
oblivion by any that had the true knowledge of him, —
dear Humphry Smith ! " These words were written
twenty years after his death, and whilst Edward
Waldren was a prisoner in what he terms, " This close,
straight, nasty, stinking prison, or county gaol in
Winchester," in which Humphry Smith had laid down
his life.

From the manner in which his friends describe him,
as well as from his own writings, one would imagine
that he knew well how to comfort the faint-hearted,
and to speak a word in season to his fellow-believers ;
but his own conviction was that God sent him " rather
to call home the lost sheep than to nourish them which
were already brought home." Addressing such on the

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

183

love of God, from Winchester Bridewell, he writes :
" He spreadeth forth His arms to gather them that ask
not for Him. He giveth gifts to the rebellious, and He
is grieved with those that receive not the tenders of

His love His Light of Life hath shined in you to

let you see the want of a Saviour."

In His earnest appeal " to the Sons of Men," he asks,
" Did you never feel a seed in you cry aloud for life,
though it lies in the death ? Are you quite dead and
past feeling ? Nay, nay, there is many of you are not
so far hardened. Hearken and hear a little. He that
makes an end of sin is come near unto you. Eesist
Him not, lest the things which belong to your ever-
lasting peace be hid from your eyes for evermore, and
you left desolate, only having the Scriptures of Truth,
. and not the Truth in the inward parts, where the know-
ledge of it makes me free." How far he was from under-
estimating the value of the Bible will be seen by the
following extract : —

"Do I in the least contemn, slight, vilify, or deny the
Scriptures 1 God forbid. Nay, I had rather my pen might
fall out of my hand, or my arm from my shoulder, or my
tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth for ever, than I should
go about to make void the Scriptures of Truth, which was
given forth from that which is my life, which is hid, not in
the Scriptures, but with Christ in God " (Col. iii. 13). . . .
" Nay, rather I establish the Scripture in directing all people
unto that which the Scriptures testify of, and were given
forth from " (John v. 39).

In allusion to the Holy Spirit, he writes : —

" Christ, when He was upon earth, did often speak unto
His followers of what was yet to come, and I do seldom read
or take notice that He did so often preach and repeat any one

184

HUMnillY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

thing unto them as that of the Spirit to come, saying that it
(mark, the Spirit) would lead into all Truth. And seeing their
weakness and unbelief, He, by the often repetition thereof, did,
as it were, the more chiefly engage their hearts to wait for
and seek after the incomes of that which should comfort them
and abide with them when His body was gone from them."

It was probably in 1654, whilst residing at Little
Cawerne, Hereford, that Humphry Smith cast in his lot
with the persecuted Friends, and the following summer
we find him a prisoner in Evesham dungeon, for refusing
to take the Oath of Abjuration, which was tendered to
him after many efforts to ensnare him by a long exami-
nation in points of doctrine had failed. He was at first
confined in the gaoler's house, where he was repeatedly
engaged in prayer, and all who were present listened
with silent awe. Soon he was sent to the common
gaol ; the infuriated mob threw water and heavy stones
into the prison, and treated him with the greatest indig-
nity. But in his opinion, the magistrates were far more
to blame than the untaught people. Meetings were
often held in the street outside the prison, and were
largely attended on market-days. Many hearts were
stirred, and blessed results began to appear. But the
Mayor of Evesham vowed that he would break up the
Quakers' meetings ; and several Friends were violently
arrested whilst holding one, some being placed in the
prison, others in the stocks, whilst three — one of whom
was Humphry Smith — were thrust into a loathsome
dungeon.

At the previous sessions the judge had said to him,
" You have been kept very high all this while ; but I
shall take a course ere I go hence that you shall be kept
shorter." The mayor caused them to be deprived of

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

185

the bedding with which their friends had supplied them,
and although one of the prisoners, who was suffering
from severe toothache, begged leave to keep his pillow,
he was not allowed to do so. The gaoler coolly told
them, he could do what he liked with them, for they
would have no benefit from the law, and no lawyer
dared to plead for them ; had they been imprisoned for
theft or murder — regarded, seemingly, as less glaring
offences than that of holding meetings — he could, he
said, have given them more liberty. The dungeon was
not twelve feet square ; light and air were only admitted
by an aperture four inches in width, through which the
prisoners received their food. So intolerably impure
was the air which escaped through this opeuiug that
sometimes the people in the street could not venture to
stand by it. Once, at Humphry Smith's request, a
Friend asked the mayor if the dungeon might be cleansed,
but his petition was refused, and he was placed in the
stocks. In hot weather the captives found it difficult
to breathe, and in cold weather they had not space
enough to use exercise in order to warm themselves.
Here Humphry Smith was confined for fourteen weeks.

One day, two men from the country, who were
passing by with their teams, asked why the Friends
were kept in prison; the gaoler induced thorn to enter,
then locked them in, and refused to open the door until
some money had been given him. Two Friends, named
Margaret Xewby and Elizabeth Quorte, after holding a
meeting at Evesham in a private house, visited some of
their captive fellow-believers. The mayor ordered that
they should be seized and put into stocks, which were
so constructed as to cause great suffering by only an

186 HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

hour's confinement ; but at his request they were kept
in them, during a freezing night, for fifteen hours. " I
have thought," says Humphry Smith, " that Paul's
forty stripes save one were not so bad." Of course he
could but keenly feel the barbarity and injustice of the
cruelty to which his friends and himself were subjected,
and at times he gave expression to his righteous indig-
nation in very strong language. But it was the sin, not
the sinner, that he hated. Concerning the persecutors,
he writes : — •" Had the Lord left us where they are,
then might we have been this day as ignorant of the
way of peace towards enemies, and of the path of
innocency and righteousness, as they. The God of
Heaven forgive them, and defend us ! ... A remnant
He hath whose hearts He enlargeth with prayer, and
some of them with strong inward desires and groans,
and some with utterance to declare the goodwill of God
unto others in your assemblies, and some steadfastly to
believe in God that He will never leave us — and all
this ascends up before the Lord as one sacrifice. . . .
Oh ! how shall He forget us now we are His people,
and are purchased with a ransom more precious than
all the gold in the world ? " Again, he says : — " Behold
the goodness of God is unutterable ! Yea I have not
words to express it ; and such that feel it may taste
of it, and drink of the fulness thereof, beyond the
narrowness of my broken speech ; and let such draw
near unto me, ... for my heart is filled with love,
and my dwelling is enlarged with boundless borders
of peace. . . . And if the will of God should be so
that my body suffer in this close unsavoury prison at
Winchester many more months or several years longer,

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

187

yet shall the Lord be my God for ever, and my rest
unto the end of troubles."

The Parliament convoked by Cromwell in 1656
passed an Act against vagrants. As this term included
all persons who when absent from home could give no
satisfactory account of their business, cruel advantage
was taken of the measure by many magistrates, who
were but too ready to lay hands on those who were
travelling at their own expense to preach the Gospel.
Soon Humphry Smith and another Friend, when riding-
together near Axminster, were arrested and carried
before a justice of the peace, who, after consultation
with a clergyman, ordered them to be whipped ; their
books and papers were burnt, and their money was
taken from them.

In 1658, two years before the accession of Charles
II., whilst Humphry Smith was confined, as he says,
" in a filthy prison and place unfit for men, at Win-
chester," he wrote his " Just Complaint of the Afflicted
against the Eulers who oppress the Innocent," a pro-
phetic warning to the persecuting magistrates, in which
he tells them that his eyes have been filled with tears
and his heart with sorrow because of the woes which
awaited them. From the same place he wrote an
epistle to his fellow-sufferers in Ailsbury Gaol. In it
he remarks : —

" "When I have beheld the plants of the garden of God in
their fresh, green, growing, flourishing, united state, my heart
hath often been refreshed. Then hath my life sounded forth
the precious praises of the Almighty in the assemblage of the
upright ; and my heart, broken therewith in the delightsome
love, hath poured forth thanksgiving with tenderness and
tears in secret. . . . Dear lambs of the fold of Heaven, my

188

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

heart and soul salutes you, my love is dear unto you, my life
hath long reached out itself towards you. . . . How shall I
salute you in that which cannot he declared 1 Behold, I may
become as a babe herein, and be silent as a child yet learning
utterance ; lest in reaching forth of my strength I should
signify my weakness to unfold the undeclarable infiniteness of
the virtue, wisdom, meekness,life. and love — from the measure
whereof my simple words most certainly do at present proceed
— as some few will surely perceive, who yet daily yearn after
a fuller enjoyment of God, and the increase and preservation
of His precious truth. . . . Behold the God of Heaven is my
refuge, and the daily incomes of that which doth truly com-
fbrt is as marrow to my bones ; yea the Lord hath prolonged
my days, enlarged my borders, and beautified the place of my
dwelling ! . . . Let not your hearts lie sad, neither be ye
discouraged by reason of anything that the Lord suffereth to
come to pass, who in His secret wisdom bringeth forth good
unto such, who in all conditions and under all trials, do truly
love and cleave unto the Lord their strength."

In 1660 Humphry Smith had a remarkable vision
with regard to the destruction of the City of London,
which lie published the same year as a warning-call to
repentance. It will be remembered that the Great Fire
occurred six years later. During the interval Humphry
Smith died. " As for the city herself," he writes, "and
her suburbs, and all that belonged to her, a fire was
kindled therein. . . . And the fire consumed founda-
tions, and the tall buildings fell, and it consumed all
the lofty therein, and thus she became a desolation. . . .
And the vision hereof remained in me as a thing that
was secretly shewed me of the Lord. . . . My counsel
is therefore that thou fear the Lord and turn from the
way that thou art in. Let all thy inhabitants, 0, thou
great City ! from the highest to the lowest, take good
heed unto their ways." It was also in 1660 that

IllWirilKY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

189

Humphry Smith wrote his address " To the Great Flock
of the Imprisoned Servants of God Almighty." Some
extracts follow : —

" This we are most assuredly assured of, that the Lord is
become ours, yea even our own, and we have a part in Him,
and He hath bought us with the price of that which puts away
sin. . . . When I enter into the chambers of secrecy, where
the hidden wisdom is treasured up, I have been even ready
to shut up all the outgoings, and to dwell where the unutter-
able treasures are treasured up abundantly for ever, and say
in my heart unto the yet scattered ones, Oh ! that ye would
come and see my dwelling, and find out my resting-place, and
abide in the beautiful habitation, and rest in the munition of
rocks. . . . Were I in one day bereaved of all, yet enjoying
the Lord and His presence, so should it be well with me, and
so may it be well with you. . . . He knoweth our intents.
He hath given many of us an heart to say, ' Lord, if Thou
shouldst suffer us to perish we will not leave Thee; and
wdiatever becomes of us we dare not deny Thee.' Let your
eyes he more upon the Lord than upon those things which in
this day of trial are suffered to come to pass by Him. . . .
And, Friends, let not the enemy prevail through unbelief ;
there is no greater danger than that of unbelief. You have a
spiritual enemy to war with which flies not but as he is
resisted ; and in the time of your weakness and inward trouble
is his time to prevail, if ever ; and if thou canst stand then,
full easy mayst thou walk when refreshings come. . . . And
this know, that a storm lasteth but for a time, and winter is
but for a season, and the night remains not always."

How many a struggling, sinking heart, must have
been upheld and reanimated by these efforts of Humphry
Smith to draw out his soul to the hungry, and to com-
fort the sorrowful with the comfort wherewith he was
comforted of God; and thus giving the cup of cold
water to others, it is evident that he in no wise lost his
reward, but that his own soul was as a well of water
whose waters fail not. A controversial pamphlet of

190

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

Humphry Smith's, " The Wandering Star discovered,"
is a reply to a book entitled, " The Quaker's Blazing
Star," by a clergyman named Edmund Skipp, who
resided at Bodenham. As Humphry Smith, in an early
part of it, states his intention of " laying open some of
the former and yet lived-in deceits of this open enemy (
and also some of his lies which he hath written against
the Truth of Christ," the reader's mind is prepared for
its style, thoroughly characteristic of the age. But we
find that " a tender letter in love to his soul " was also
written ; and in the latter part of the pamphlet, Hum-
phry Smith says, " Now I charge thee, in the presence
of the living God in as much love to thy soul as ever,
that thou return to the light of Christ in thy own con-
science. I tell thee, man, in love, there is something
yet in thee which will witness me to be true."

It seems that Edmund Skipp had some time earlier
been convinced of the truth of many of the views
held by Friends. At one time he had acknowledged
that for two years he had been acting in opposition
to his conscience with regard to tithes, and yet,
though admitting that he groaned under the burden
of them, he said that he meant to receive them for
another year. But Humphry Smith had, as he says,
thoughts to the contrary, and plainly expressed this
opinion to the clergyman, whom he met at a private
house. On the following Sunday he sent his man to
Humphry Smith with these few lines : " Brother Smith,
the Lord hath done a strange work in me this morn-
ing, and I shall alter strangely this day ; therefore
pray earnestly for me, and make what haste thou
canst to come unto me." Once or twice he had told

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

191

his whole congregation that he had " long spoken after
the manner of men, but now they must expect no
more such from him ; that now he should wait to
pray in the Spirit and speak by the Spirit." For a
time he gave up receiving tithes, and even entertained
the thought of resigning the glebe-land and building
on his own. But he confessed to Humphry Smith
that he had not faith enough to carry his convictions
into effect, and was " confident that the devil Avould
steal all from him again."

In Humphry Smith's pamphlet, " Hidden things
made manifest," he remarks : " There are many that
are now come to peace, dominion, and the land of
Eest, who did once know the judgments of God upon
Cain's nature, which then cried out that his punish-
ment was too heavy to bear, . . . and yet have they
not started aside like a broken bow, neither have they
suffered unbelief to prevail, but in love to Him who
was made a curse, in patience have endured. . . . Those
come to know that notwithstanding the Law must be
received, yet by the works thereof no flesh shall be jus-
tified, but by the obedience of faith towards God in the
Blood of His Son, by which all that is done away which
transgressed the law ; and so not of works, nor of merits,
but of faith and love is the law fulfilled."

In the latter part of 1661, Humphry Smith told the
Friends whom he had been visiting in the neighbour-
hood of London, that he had a narrow path to pass
through, and foresaw that he should be imprisoned,
and that it might cost him his life. Then, having
taken leave of them, he set forward, we learn, " in the
will of the Lord westward." Bonds and afflictions he

192

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

knew awaited him, but God was with him and taught
him to fear none of those things which he should suffer.
In his bold address to J udges and Rulers, called, " The
Voice of God's Mighty Power," he says, " Your long
tyranny will never weary out the patience Ave have
received, neither can you inflict more punishment than
the Lord has enabled us to bear. And as you are filled
and moved with envy, we are much more filled and
overcome with the power of the Father's Life. We
have given up our bodies and souls a living sacrifice
unto God, to do or suffer His will. And him that kills
the body we fear not, much less those that can but
whip or imprison for a few months ; for our Life you
cannot reach; neither can you disturb their rest whom
the Lord hath crowned with honour, who out of the
world are redeemed and bought with the price of blood
most precious."

When on his way to visit his son, he held a meeting
at Alton, after which armed men were sent to the
house were he was staying, who arrested him and took
him to the Deputy-Lieutenant of the county, by whom
he was committed as a " Ringleader and one of the
chief of the Quakers," to Winchester Gaol, of the state
of which his own strong adjectives have already given
a slight conception. His pockets and boxes were rifled
of papers, and the felons who were his companions
sometimes took his food from him and abused him in
other ways ; yet his fellow-prisoner, Nicholas Complin,
states that he was " very quiet, and lay down content."
But knowing how illegal his imprisonment was, he
wrote an answer to the mittimus. At the next Sessions
he laid his cause before the justices, but unavailingly.

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS "WORKS.

193

When told by Judge Terril at the Assizes that he
should be released if he would hold no more meetings,
he of course declined to accept freedom on such terms.
As the judge was leaving the court, Humphry Smith,
who was at the bar among the felons, said to him :
" Friend, remember I have been a whole year in prison
and no breach of any law proved against me." A little
later he was attacked by the illness which, after a
while, terminated his life, and which his close and cruel
confinement would cpuite account for.

About two months before his death, he wrote a piece
entitled, " One Hundred and Forty-four lines of secret,
inward Melody and Praise to the Lord," the style of
which is shown by the following stanza : — -

" Behold His glory shines unto His jewels rare,
He visits them betimes, when they in darkness are.
Behold His heart is bent towards His little ones ;
His love their hearts hath rent, and in His virtue comes."

But the last time in which the use of his pen is
recorded, is on the occasion of his writing a letter to
his " nearly-related friend Elizabeth Smith, of Little
Cawerne." A few extracts will give an idea of its
character : —

" My strength, life, and refuge alone is He whose service I
have no cause to decline, and whose precious, powerful call
He never gave me cause to repent. Oh ! that I could now
sufficiently declare His goodness, as the Lord hath given unto
my heart to desire of Him to be made use of, in the declara-
tion or manifestation thereof in this my day unto the sons
and children of men. Surely, when I am writing of Him,
and of His unutterable goodness and power, my words and
lines are all so short of setting forth the virtue and fulness of
the most unexpressible divine excellency thereof, that some-
times I am rather ready to dwell in silence with and in the

0

194

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

fulness thereof — which overcomes with unutterable virtue —
than to be writing of that which in itself can never be written ;
though what is written may be by, and with, and from the
overflowings of the same ; and so be as drops or little streams
of heavenly water to refresh the dry and thirsty land. Yea,
He is certainly mine, and I am His ; and my soul doth
magnify Him, and my spirit doth yet breathe farther to
sound forth His praises — not only all the days of my life,
whilst in this earthly tabernacle, but likewise in the hearts of
thousands of them yet unborn, by my faithful, upright testi-
mony and the record thereof which may remain when the
God and Father of my life hath gathered me, with the rest of
His servants of old, to live with Him in the delightsome
Ocean of the Infinite Fulness, the streams whereof already
are as the free issuings forth of Life Eternal. . . . And this
is that thou and others may hear from me, and know that I
remain in the service of God, and in faithful long-sufferings
for the Gospel of His Son as at this day, being the 6th of
the Seventh Month, 1662. In the straight prison of Win-
chester, where I am known by this name, Humphry Smith."

This form of signature was a favourite one of his;
for possessing, as he did, the " new name which no man
knoweth saving he that receiveth it " * (Rev. ii. 17)
that which he bore amongst his fellow-men appeared to
him of but little importance. This letter recalls a
striking passage of an earlier date : — " Shall we not be
contented if the Lord should suffer us to be deprived of
all things but Himself, that we might have none other
thing to have union with, but only Him alone ? Surely
this would be His love, and great would be the unity
between such and Him! " Do not these last words reveal

* Dean Alford thus comments on this text : — " It is a revelation
to a man of his everlasting title, as a son of God, to glory in Christ,
but consisting of, and revealed in, those personal marks and signs of
God's peculiar adoption of himself, which he, and none else, is
acquainted with."

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

195

the secret source of the holy constancy of many to
whom " it is given in the behalf of Christ not only to
believe on Him, but also to suffer for His sake," —
including some

" Who little dream
Their daily strife an angel's theme,
Or that the cross they take so calm
Shall prove, in Heaven, a martyr's palm."

It was about three weeks after the Assizes that
Humphry Smith became ill with ague, soon followed by
violent fever. He sent a letter to Judge Terril, inform-
ing him of the severity of his malady, yet little was done
to ameliorate his condition. No doubt the extreme
hardships and cruelty of which he had so frequently
been the victim had left him but little rallying power ;
but even a vigorous constitution would surely have
found it hard to resist the prostrating influences of fever
in that pestilential place. More than one of his friends,
the sharers of this imprisonment, bear witness that no
suffering could wring from those patienc lips " one
unsavoury word." He was given up to the will of the
Lord, either in life or death, he said ; but patience had
had her perfect work, and he who, even in the midst
of great tribulation, had so often realised fulness of joy
in the presence of the Lord, was soon to behold the
King in His beauty ;

" And he may smile at troubles gone
Who sets the victor-garland on ! "

He remarked that his heart was filled with the power
of God : and was heard to say, " Lord, Thou sentest me
forth to do Thy will, and I have been faithful to Thee in
my small measure." A short time before his death he

196

HUMPHRY SMITH AND HIS WORKS.

poured out his soul in prayer that the Lord would
deliver His people from their enemies, and would Him-
self be the Teacher of those to whose souls he had been
made a blessing. " 0 Lord, hear the inward sighs and
groans of the oppressed, and deliver my poor soul from
the oppressor. 0 Lord, hear me. 0 Lord, uphold and
preserve me. I know that my Eedeemer liveth. Thou
are strong and mighty, 0 Lord." To the last his mind
was unclouded. He died in 1663.

As we lay down the records of the lives of those who,
having wholly yielded their hearts to Christ, feared nob
that He would suffer their faith to fail ; and, undaunted
by dangers and difficulties innumerable, carried out to
the utmost their belief of the requirements of a Christian
profession — let us remember that Christianity cannot be
thus practised in any age without making what has
been termed "a tremendous innovation on this work-a-
day world."

" Breathe on us for the passing day,

The powers of ancient story ;
Then we with joyful heart shall say,

Though Wisdom's head be hoary
His heart is fresh, undinnned his eyes ;
And in the old we must be wise,

If we would win new glory."

MARY FI£HEFi AND HEF(
fRIEJND^.

" We need God to make us understand God ; we must be
union with Him in order to obey Him." — J. R. H.

199

MARY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

" The practical Christian life in the individual, is it not more the
result of direct spiritual influence than of any letter, or rule, or
law ? Is it not emphatically the product of a divine power on the
heart — of the operation of the Holy Ghost ? . . . . The transform-
ing power of the Gospel lies .... in a sympathy of man's spirit
with the spirit of Christ, by which the Gospel becomes to man not
merely a new demand of duty but a new endowment of power, and
a law which he can fulfil through love." — Myers' Catholic Thoughts
on the Bible and Theology.

It was on a spring-day in the year 1656 that the
good ship Swalloiv sailed into Massachusetts Bay. Her
arrival caused no small consternation, and the Deputy-
Governor, Bellingham, deemed it needful to summon a
Special Council. This alarm was caused by the rumour
that Simon Kempthorn, the " master " of the Swallow,
had brought into the jurisdiction two dangerous heretics,
who had come with the express purpose of propagating
their blasphemous errors. They were 'English women,
named Anne Austin and Mary Fisher, the former an
elderly matron, the latter unmarried and about the age
of thirty-two. The Governor being absent, Bellingham
gave orders that they should be held in custody on
board the ship, and that their boxes should be searched.
About a hundred books were taken from them, which
the Council deliberately decreed should be " forthwith
burned and destroyed by the common executioner " !

Their next edict was to the effect that the " said
Anne and Mary " should be kept in close confinement,
no one being allowed to have communication with them

200

MARY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

"without leave, until they were sent out of the country.
Simon Kempthom was enjoined to transport them
" speedily and directly " to Barbadoes whence they
came, and to discharge all the expenses of their im-
prisonment. If he refused to give security for the
effectual carrying out of these orders he was to be com-
mitted to prison. The magistrates moreover threatened
to inflict a penalty of £5 on any person who should
expose himself to the contaminating influence of the
strangers by conversing with them through the window
of Boston Gaol, which, for the sake of still greater
security, was afterwards boarded up. The prisoners
were deprived of their writing materials, and forbidden
the use of a candle. So little food was allowed them
that Nicholas Upsal, an old inhabitant and " freeman "
of the city, fearing that they might be starved, paid the
gaoler for permission to send them provisions ; and at
one time their lives were imperilled from the cry of
witchcraft.

At the end of five weeks they were banished from
Boston and sent back to Barbadoes, the captain of the
vessel being bound, under a penalty of £100, to convey
them thither without allowing them to land anywhere
in New England, nor to have any intercourse with the
inhabitants of that country. When, on returning to
Boston, Endicott, the Governor, heard of these proceed-
ings, he said, " If I had been present I would have had
them well whipt." Ample opportunities, however, for
the infliction of barbarous scourgings on others also
guilty of being Quakers, were soon forthcoming, for
scarcely had Anne Austin and Mary Fisher sailed from
the shores of Massachusetts, before the arrival of the

MARY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

201

Woodhouse from London, with eight Friends on board,*
of whom Francis Howgill thus quaintly writes : —
" Four from London and four from Bristol are gone
towards New England ; pretty hearts ; the blessing of
the Lord is with them, and His dread goes before
them."

Anne Austin and Mary Fisher were the first Friends
who visited the New World with the hope of making
known the doctrines of Friends. The former is described
as being at this time " stricken in years," and the
mother of five children. Her home was, apparently, in
London. Persecution was again her lot after her return
to her native land, and in 1659 she was imprisoned in
one of the loathsome London gaols for preaching in the
religious assemblies of her own Society. She died of
the plague in 1665, and was interred in Bunhill Fields
Burial-ground. From Barbadoes, where Anne Austin
and Mary Fisher first landed, the latter wrote a letter
to Georcre Fox which bears evidence of beino; written in
the days when " spelling was a matter of private
opinion."

The name under which she addresses him is very

suggestive ; since —

" Whoe'er hath fanned the flickering torch of faith,
Or bade the mists of fear and doubt retire ;
Or nerved our souls to meet the approach of death —
To him we give the endearing name of sire."

She writes : — " My deare father .... lett me not be
forgotten by thee, but lett thy prayers be for me that
I may continnue faithful to the end if any of our

* See The Martyrs of Boston.

202

MARY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

friendes be free to come over they may be servisable,
here is many convinsed, and many desire to know the
way ; so I rest Mary Ffisher."

Mary Fisher was born in the north of England, and
at the time when she became a Friend her home, it
seems, was at Pontefract. The three years before her
western voyage had been much devoted to the ministry
of the Gospel in the intervals left by frequent imprison-
ments, and no small share of suffering had been her lot.
For sixteen months she had been confined in York
Castle ; almost as soon as liberty was restored to her
she visited the south-eastern counties with a Friend
named Elizabeth Williams, who was also a minister.
At Cambridge they " discoursed about the tilings of
God " with the young collegians, and preached at the
gate of Sidney College. But soon the mayor gave orders
that they should be taken to the Market Cross and
" whipped until the blood ran down their bodies." No
Friend had been publicly scourged hitherto, and the
assembled crowd marvelled at the patient fortitude of
the sufferers when this command was executed with
barbarous severity ; and still more at the Christ-like
spirit they manifested by their prayers that their per-
secutors might be forgiven. "This is but the beginning
of the sufferings of the people of God ! " Mary Fisher
afterwards remarked.

A second imprisonment in York Castle, this time for
six months, soon followed, and was shortly succeeded
by one of three months' duration. In Buckinghamshire
she was imprisoned for the offence of " giving Chris-
tian exhortations to the priest and people."' She pos-

MARY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

203

sessed much intellectual ability, and, dedicated as it was
to the service of Him who enabled her to speak with
power, it is easy to imagine that she was regarded as
a formidable foe ; especially when she dwelt on such
unpalatable themes as the freedom of the Gospel ministry
and the disuse of religious ceremonies. Henry Fell,
who met with her in Barbadoes on her return from New
England, says, in a letter to Margaret Fell, " Truly Mary
Fisher is a precious heart, and hath been very service-
able here."

She afterwards visited the West Indies, but her name
is chiefly associated with her journey to the East, under-
taken from the conviction that it was her duty to seek
for a religious interview with the Sultan Mahomet IV.
Although only eighteen years of age, he was at the
height of his power, and Turkey was viewed with dis-
may by the nations of Christendom.

" The Sultan dreamed of boundless power

To wield the conquering sword,
And make the unbelievers own

The prophet of the Lord :
To fling the banner of His faith

O'er Islam's ancient reign,
Above the valleys of Castile,

The mountain heights of Spain ;
In the great temple of the Cross

Marshal his Moslem force,
And make its sacred fane at Rome

' A stable for his hor^e ! ' "

" This English maiden," writes Gerard Croese, " would
not be at rest before she went in person to the great
Emperor of the Turks, and informed him concerning
the errors of his religion and the truth of hers ' "
Having visited Italy, Zante, and Corinth, she arrived at

204

MARY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

Smyrna. The English consul there, when he learnt her
intention — not recognising her heavenly commission —
very naturally advised her " hy all means to forbear ;"
and when he found that his warnings were Avholly
unheeded, and that no milder measures would avail —
recoiling from the idea that a woman should expose
herself to such a perilous journey and hazard the un-
relenting cruelty of oriental despotism — he placed her
on board a vessel which was bound for Venice, giving
orders that she should be conveyed thither.

But Mary Fisher was not to be so easily withheld
from her holy errand. She induced the captain to land
her on the Morea, and,

" Bearing God's message in her heart,
Her life within her hand,"

alone, knowing neither the route nor the language, she
travelled on foot along the Grecian coast, through
Macedonia, and over the mountains of Thrace, until
she at length reached the beautiful plain, watered by
the wide Maritza, on which Adrianople stands. Here
the Sultan was encamped with so great an army and
retinue, that even that spacious tract of land seemed
barely large enough for them. Even now a less steadfast
faith would have wavered, for how was an abhorred Chris-
tian to gain access to the Mohammedan monarch —
" Shadow of God," as he was at times entitled ? Having
told her errand to some of the citizens, she asked them
to bear her company to the royal camp ; but their dread
of the Sultan's displeasure forbade them to yield to
such a request. So alone — yet not alone —

" In the still temple of her soul,
Communing with her God."

MARY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

205

she went hither, and thither, until her diligent quest
was rewarded by finding some one who was bold enough
to speak to the Grand Vizier, Achmet Bassa, on her
behalf. Through him the Sultan was informed of the
arrival of an English woman who had " something to
declare to him from the great God ; " and she was told
that she mi^ht have an interview with him on the
following morning.

She spent the night in the city and went back to the
camp at the appointed hour, where the Sultan awaited
her, surrounded by his chief officers, as was his wont
when giving receptions to ambassadors. By one of the
three interpreters who were present, he asked her
whether it was true that she had a message from the
Lord God ? On her answering affirmatively, he bade
her " Speak on." "Waiting for the summons of her
Lord she did not at once address him, which led him
to inquire whether it were her wish that any of the
company should withdraw before she spoke ? When
she replied that she did not desire this, he told her to
speak the word of the Lord without fear, since they had
"good hearts" to hear it ; strictly enjoining her, more-
over, to say neither more nor less than the word she
had from the Lord, since they were willing to hear it,
be it what it might. With great gravity the whole
assembly gave heed to her earnest ministry, and when
she became silent the Sultan asked if there were nothing
more she would like to say ? When she inquired
whether he had understood her, he answered, " Yea,
every word, and it is truth ! " He then expressed his
desire that she should remain in his dominions, and
when she declined this proposal, offered her a guard to

20G

MAliY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

escort her to Constantinople, as lie would be greatly
grieved if any harm should befall her in his empire.
But she courteously refused this offer, trusting in the
Lord alone.

May we not hope that one who had, for the moment,
ignored the great national contest between the Crescent
and the Cross, and — far beyond this — had laid aside
the prejudices of the exacting faith of his fathers in his
readiness to hear " the word of the Lord," albeit from
the lips of a woman— was upheld by Him when some
thirty years later he lay dying in prison ? His abdica-
tion was demanded by the Turkish soldiers after the
dreadful and unsuccessful siege of Vienna. Certainly
his conduct stands out in strange contrast to that of the
professing Christians of Boston, who would no doubt
have despised him as an infidel.* Mary Fisher arrived
at Constantinople, we learn, " without the least hurt or
scoff," and finally reached England in safety.

Not long after her return from her oriental journey
Mary Fisher was married to a sea-captain named Wil-
liam Bayley, well known in the Society of Friends as
a powerful preacher and writer. He had once been a
Baptist minister at Poole, in Dorsetshire; but in 1655
— the year in which Mary Fisher set sail for the
Western world — that place was visited by George Fox,
whose ministry led him to become a Friend. It seems
that he had previously longed for deeper spiritual
instruction, and had vainly sought for it in a careful

* " In this town
They put sea-captains in the stocks for swearing,
And Quakers for not swearing."

— Longfellow's New England Tragedies.

MARY FISIIEU AND HER FRIENDS.

207

perusal in the works of Jacob Belimen, from whose
" reveries and rhapsodies " it must have been a relief
to turn to the pure elevated spirituality of Christianity
as pourtrayed by George Fox, whose aim was, as he
himself said, " with and by the Divine Spirit of God, 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 to learn of
Christ."

Persecution was soon William Bayley's portion. In
1656 he was committed to Exeter Gaol in consequence
of the unfair use often made, in that day, of the law
against vagrants by magistrates who chose to apply it
to Friends who were travelling to preach. In the fol-
lowing year, when in Hampshire, he was imprisoned
with some other Friends, by a mittimus which falsely
stated that they were accused of several offences. A
few years later he made one of a group of Friends who,
when quietly standing in the street near the Bull and
Mouth Meeting-house in London, were arrested by some
soldiers and taken before that notorious persecutor of
the Friends, Alderman Brown. He ordered that their
hats should be removed, and repeatedly struck William
Bayley with his fist. But William Bayley's wife was
with him, and, patiently as she had been wont to bear
persecution herself, she now reproved the magistrate for
his violence to her husband; whereupon he struck her
also and threw her on the ground — William Bayley's
remonstrances with respect to such treatment of a
woman only causing a repetition of it. Then, without

208

MARY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

the least pretext for such a step, he bade his servant
and some other men take William Bayley to Newgate.

Twelve months later he was arrested at a meeting at
King's Langley, and committed to Hertford Gaol, where
— having refused at the Quarter Sessions to take the
Oath of Allegiance — he was retained a prisoner for
some years. His remarkable warning to Charles II.
and his Parliament was written from Hertford in the
latter part of 1664, when, as the event proved, the war
with the Dutch, the Plague, and the great Fire, were
not far distant. Brief extracts from this lengthy docu-
ment follow : —

" But what shall I say unto you ? If ye will not
believe our faithful testimony (or the testimony of God
through us) and the innocency of our cause and suffer-
ings, neither will ye believe if one should rise from the
dead and declare it unto you. For many tender visita-
tions and timely warnings and gentle reprehensions
have you had from the pure Spirit of the Lord God.
. . . And as for my part, who am one of the least of
the thousands of Israel, I could willingly have been
silent as towards you at this time, but the Lord hath
laid it upon me to warn you, once more, for whose sakes
I have borne a burden. . . . The more you strive with
the Lord and oppress His people, the more will they
multiply and grow stronger and stronger ; and you shall
wax weaker and weaker ; for life and immortality is
risen, and the power of God is risen in the hearts of
thousands.

" I tell you plainly that such fruits and doings among
you that profess yourselves Christians, have made the
very name of Christ and Christianity a proverb of

MARY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

209

reproach through nations, and have caused the God of
heaven to be blasphemed. And how could it be other-
wise, seeing you, who profess the most knowledge of
God, and have talked of converting the heathen (as
some of your leaders have done), are found the least in
the life and fruits thereof? But to what would they
convert them ? . . . The very heathen or infidels, as ye
call them, do judge and condemn you concerning these
your proceedings. . . . Friends, tell me what ye have
justly to charge against this people (whom ye so furiously
pursue, to the loss of the lives of so many of them ;
by which the children are made fatherless, and tender-
hearted women mournful widows) ; and declare it
abroad to the whole world, and speak the truth, and
nothing but the truth ! . . . What is become of all your
promises of liberty for tender consciences ? God's curse
and vengeance will come upon you, and His plagues,
to destruction will pursue you if ye proceed in this
work ; and your wives will be widows and your children
fatherless. The Lord hath spoken it ! . . .

" God Almighty, cut short Thy work in Thy righte-
ousness, . . . and let the kings of the earth lay down
their crowns at the feet of the Lamb ; that through
Thy righteous judgments they may partake of Thy
tender mercies, which endure for ever ; that their eyes
may be no longer blinded by the god of this world, but
that they may come to see Thee who art invisible, and
enjoy the same precious life of pure unfeigned love
which abounds in the hearts of Thy hidden ones; and
receive Thy peaceful wisdom to be governed, and to
govern therein ; then would they surely know that we
are Thine. ... So, friends, ye are, and have been,

P

210

MARY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

warned again by the faithful servants of the Lord in
love to your souls ; and you are left without excuse, if
words should never more be mentioned unto you. . . .

" A lover of the welfare of all your souls, thus far
clear of all your blood.

"William Bayley."

William Bayley was present at Gracechurch Street
Meeting, one day in 1670, when an attempt was made
to bring a clergyman to officiate there ; the latter,
coming from an adjacent ale-house, approached the
meeting-house ; but, although protected by soldiers, he
did not like the idea of performing the task which had
been set him, and took the undignified course of giving
his escort the slip. The sergeant, running after him,
persuaded him to return ; but when he reached the door
of the meeting-house his heart once more failed him,
and he turned away. The soldiers, however, entered ;
and arresting William Bayley, who was preaching,
carried him before the Lord Mayor, who committed him
to Newgate for " abusing the priest and disturbing him
in his office " !

Of violent outrage, as well as absolute injustice,
William Bayley was at times the victim. Not content
with the infliction of blows, his persecutors on one
occasion stained the ground with his blood, as they
dragged him over it, wrenching open his mouth, and
wounding him in other ways. After trampling on him,
in order to take away his breath, one of his persecutors
ordered the gaoler to " put him in some nasty hole for his
entertainment and cure." " And," remarks John Crook,
in his preface to William Bayley's works, " had not the

MARY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

211

God of Israel been his physician there, he had been
taken from us long before this." After alluding to his
bold and zealous ministry, his diligence in it, — and to
his courageous endurance of suffering, John Crook
adds : " Methinks how once I saw him stand at the bar
to plead his innocent cause (like Stephen) in the
Senate-house, when the threats of his persecutors,
crying out with a hideous noise, resembled the showers
of stones falling upon that blessed martyr ; and
yet all this while he changed not his countenance,
except by the additional ornaments of some innocent
smiles."

In a work jointly written by William Bayley and
John Crook, the following remarks occur: — "We do in
the sight of God really own the blood of the Son of
Man, . . . both as bespeaking the remission of sin
past, through faith in it, and as sprinkling the conscience
of true believers, and cleansing them from all sin. . . .
By all which it is manifest to be of infinite value. . . .
But because we testify tliat it is not the bare, historical,
and literal belief of those things that justifies or makes
us really free from that wrath which comes upon every
soul of man that docth evil ; but only the life and virtue
of this blood, received into the heart by that living faith
which Christ alone is author of: therefore we are branded
with slighting the blood of the man Christ, etc. Though
we testify that without the life and virtue of this blood
there is no remission."

During his occasional voyages it was William Bayley 's
aim to avail himself of all suitable opportunities for
ministerial service, and his labours were not in vain.
He died at sea in 1G75, when on a return voyage from

212

MAIIY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

Barbadoes. " Death is nothing in itself" he said, " 1 for
the sting of death is sin.' Friends at London would
have been glad to see my face ; tell them I go to my
Father and their Father, to my God and their God.
Remember my love to my dear wife ; she will be a sor-
rowful widow ; but let her not mourn in her sorrow, for
it is well with me. I have left my children no portions,
but my endeavour hath been to make God their Father.
Shall I lay down my head on the waters ? Well, God
is the God of the whole universe."

Mary Bayley subsequently became the wife of John
Cross, of London, and emigrated with him to America.
In 1697, when residing at Charlestown, she gave a hos-
pitable reception to her fellow-countryman, Robert
Barrow, whom she nursed in the illness caused by the
great hardships and privations which he had undergone
after his escape from shipwreck on the coast of Florida.
Early yielding his heart to the Lord, Robert Barrow had
for many }rears earnestly laboured and patiently suffered
for his Redeemer's cause. After much diligent minis-
terial service in Britain, in 1G94 when old age was
approaching, he sailed from his native land with Robert
Wardel, of Sunderland, going forth " in the love of God ''
to preach the Gospel in the New World. Strengthened
by Him these two aged ministers travelled through nine
provinces, in which they held 328 meetings, and after-
wards had much service in Antigua, the Bermudas, and
Jamaica.

In the latter island they suffered from the extreme
heat of the climate, and scon Robert Wardel was
attacked by the illness which, after a few days, ter-
minated his life. To the Friend who nursed him he

MARY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

213

said, " The Lord reward thee for thy tender care ; it
makes me think of my dear wife. I know not whether
I may ever see her more, but, however, the will of
God be done. I am, and was, willino- to be contented
with the will of God, whether life or death before I
came hither." He exhorted the Friends who came
to see him to " ansvjer God's love in them." He knew
not what trials he was spared, and which were to be
the lot of his beloved companion during the year that
would elapse before he also reached his heavenly
home.*

Four months after the death of his friend, Robert
Barrow embarked for Penusy vlania on board the Refor-
mation, with two friends named Jonathan and Mary
Dickenson, and their infant son ; one other passenger,
the captain, his negro crew, and some negro servants
made up the ship's company. One night, whilst in the
Gulf of Florida, they were driven ashore in a great
storm. When daylight came Jonathan Dickenson suc-
ceeded in finding a nook with a few bushes, among the
dreary sand-hills ; for shelter was greatly needed from
the violence of the wind and rain, especially by Mary
Dickenson, her ailing baby, liobert Barrow, who had
been ill, and the captain, who had broken his leg a few
days earlier.

Soon two very fierce - looking Indians made their
appearance, and on seeing the strangers rushed towards
them, literally foaming with fury, and armed with long
knives, with which they had been supplied by the

* For the incident in Robert Wardel's boyhood which led to his
becoming a Friend, sec Sketch of William Edmundson.

214

MARY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

Spaniards ; they immediately seized the first two men'
they met, who were carrying corn from the wreck to the
bank on which Jonathan Dickenson stood. Some of
the crew wished to get their guns in order to shoot their
assailants, but Jonathan Dickenson counselled them to
put their trust in the Lord, who was able to defend
them to the uttermost, and also pointed out the impolicy
of the proposed measure. He told his wife and friends
of the approach of the Indians, and then the idea
occurred to him of offering the ferocious-looking stran-
gers some pipes and tobacco. Eagerly snatching them
from him, and sniffing the air like so many wild beasts,
they turned from him and ran away.

He rightly surmised that they had gone to fetch their
comrades, a crowd of whom soon arrived, running and
shouting. The greater part of them set to work to
plunder the vessel, but about thirty, headed by the
Cassekay, their chief, and armed with knives, fell upon
the shipwrecked band, and with countenances which
betokened extreme ferocity, cried out, " Nickaleer ?
Nickaleer ? " They had an especial hatred of the
English, and by this question tried to ascertain if the
strangers were of that nation. Some they seized by
the head, and, with outstretched arm and knife in hand,
seemed only to be waiting for the Cassekay to begin
the slaughter. Meanwhile most of the little group thus
suddenly placed in the utmost peril, continued quietly
sitting on their boxes and trunks, or on the ground,
some of them, as Jonathan Dickenson records, " in a
good frame of spirit, being freely given up to the will
of God." Deliverance was at hand. In a moment
these savages changed their demeanour, and stood spell-

MARY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

215

bound, as silent and almost as still as statues for about
a quarter of an hour. Yet afterwards they not only
emptied the chests of their contents, but proceeded to
strip the owners of their clothing.

On coming again the next day, the chief addressed
the direct question, " Nickaleer ? " to Kobert Barrow,
who, avoiding the evasions as well as the false replies
of which some of the party had made use with respect
to their nationality, answered, " Yes." His clothes,
which had hitherto been left him were now stripped off.
The Cassekay had a smattering of Spanish, and the fact
that Eobert Barrow did not use that lan<niaoe — which

o o

had been employed by one of the crew — probably
strengthened his suspicion that the white men were of
English birth. At mid-day the Indians, having gathered
together their plunder, loaded the lawful owners with
it, and, forming a guard around them, summoned them
to march to their village — a toilsome journey, five miles
in length, to be performed barefoot, over deep sand, and
under a burning sun. The captain, in consideration of
his broken leg, was allowed the aid of his negro Ben, but
Mary Dickenson was obliged to carry her baby herself ;
for, whenever any of her friends attempted to take it from
her, they were told they should be shot if they laid down
the load they already had. The wigwams being at
length reached, the captives were offered food, but fear
deprived some of appetite, and others, although hungry,
were naturally disinclined to eat, becauss they thought
it highly probable that the Indians — of whose habits
they had heard — gave them food for the sake of after-
wards feeding themselves upon them.

On the following day their fears were increased by

216

MARY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

the arrival of another band of natives, armed with bows
and arrows. That evening; the aged Robert Barrow
addressed his fellow-sufferers with deep feeling from
the text, " Because thou hast kept the word of my
patience, I also will keep thee," etc., and afterwards
fervently besought the Lord that, if it were consistent
with His blessed will, He would deliver them from a
barbarous people ; that their names might not be buried
in oblivion, and that he might lay down his body
amongst his faithful friends. An assurance was given
him that this prayer would be granted, and some
of his companions also were I: livingly refreshed and
strengthened."

After spending five days at this place they were
allowed to depart, and directed their course towards
St. Augustine. The dangers and hardships they en-
countered during the following six or seven weeks are
far too numerous for record here. Three or four of the
negroes perished, being unable to endure the wilderness
journey, the perils by sea, the floods, the scanty and
loathsome food, and the excessive suffering caused, in
their unclothed and unsheltered condition, by the biting-
blasts of the north-west wind, which produced an
extremely severe frost. At one time, when the cold
was so intense that the strongest of the company
doubted if they should outlive that day, it was thought
best that those who could make speed should do so
without waiting for others. Jonathan Dickenson, of
course, remained with his wife and infant and Robert
Barrow. The poor baby, although black with cold from
head to foot, " was not fro ward," we are told. No doubt,
unless it were absolutely impossible, his mother devised

MARY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

217

some sort of wrap for him, for the Indians had violently
snatched off his clothes, " as though they would have
shaken and torn him limb from limb."

At len»th St. Augustine was reached, and a most
hospitable reception was given to the exhausted tra-
vellers by the Governor, who provided them with the
food and clothing they so sorely needed ; and when
they set out for Carolina he furnished them with an
escort. On their embarkation, embracing some of the
company, he said, " You will forget me when you
get among your own nation ; but if you forget me, God
will not." Some weeks later Charlestown was reached,
and here Robert Barrow, in his great weakness and
weariness, became the guest of Mary Cross. Writing
from her house to his wife he says, " It pleased God I
had the great fortune to have a good nurse ; one whose
name you have heard of, a Yorkshire woman born
within two miles of York. Her maiden name was
Mary Fisher— she that spake to the great Turk — after-
ward's William Bayley's wife. She is now my land-
lady and nurse." After spending some time at her
house, Robert Barrow sailed with Jonathan Dickenson
and his family for Philadelphia, where Jonathan Dicken-
son entered into business as a merchant. He was
greatly beloved and respected, and for some years filled
the olfice of Speaker in the Assembly, and was also
Chief Justice of Pennsylvania.

When, at eight o'clock one evening, the vessel arrived
at Philadelphia, several Friends came on board to greet
Robert Barrow and conduct him on shore, but they
found that he was too weak to be removed that night.
Yet it rejoiced his heart to see them, and he spoke of

218

MARY .KISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

how God had granted his prayer that he might lay
down his bones in that place. His heart was strong,
he said, and he hoped to go to their meeting again ; the
Lord had been very good to him, consoling him with
His presence in all his trials. On the following morning-
some of the Friends from the city helped to bring the
vessel up to a wharf, and, wrapping Robert Barrow in
a blanket, carried him to the house of a Friend* " The
Lord has been very good to me all along to this very
day," he remarked, " and this very morning hath sweetly
refreshed me." Two days later he expired, after telling
his friends that he had nothing to do but to die. Very
early that morning he had asked a Friend who was
with him to write to his " dear wife," to tell her of his
travels, his arrival at Philadelphia, and that the Lord
was with him.

Mary Cross was now a widow, and about seventy-
three years of age. It would be interesting to trace
her history to the end, but apparently no particulars of
her last days have been left on record. It is probable
that she died in South Carolina, where Sophia Hume,
who was the grand-daughter of William Bayley and
herself, was born.

Sophia Hume's father was not a Friend, and in her
early days she allowed herself to be much absorbed in

* Samuel Carpenter, who (William Perm excepted) was considered
the most wealthy person in the province. During a previous resi-
dence in Barbadoes he had suffered much from distraints, and in
consequence of his conscientious objection to bearing arms. In
1693 he was made a Member of the Assembly, becoming, a few
years later, one of the Council, and, finally, Treasurer of Pennsyl-
vania. His benevolence, ability, and energy, won him much love
and esteem.

MARY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

219

empty worldly pleasures. Indeed half a lifetime had
passed away before she awoke to the sense of the
impossibility of being satisfied by such aimless pursuits.
Her judgment was first convinced on this point, but it
was not until she was about the age of forty that she
fully yielded her heart to her Eedeemer. She one day
took up " Barclay's Apology" to search for some material
for conversation, and being too much interested in it
to lay it hastily down, its perusal led to her joining
the Society of Friends, amongst whom she became a
very remarkable minister. In later life, when London
had become her residence, she thought it right to revisit
her native land, to declare what God had done for her
soul, and to call others away from those things which
had for so long a time ensnared her own soul, but out
of which she had been " brought and redeemed by the
powerful hand of God." She died when in her seventy-
third year, and was interred in the Bunhill Fields
Burial-ground.

As we turn from the lives of any of our forefathers,
who, " through faith, . . . wrought righteousness, ob-
tained promises, . . . out of weakness were made strong,
waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies
of the aliens," — it may be well for us to ponder over
the words of a writer of the day, who views the Society
of Friends from an outside standpoint, whilst we re-
member that if our privileges are great the need for a
faithful stewardship is but increased thereby : — " In its
absolute recognition of the sacredness of individual
responsibilit}r, . . . above all in its intense recognition
of a great spiritual force — call it by what name you
will — which a man can lay hold of by faith and make

220 MARY FISHER AND HER FRIENDS.

his own, Quakerism stands alone and unrivalled. . . .
St. Theresa said when she set to work to found a much-
needed house of mercy with only three halfpence in
her pocket, ' Theresa and three halfpence can do nothing;
but God and three halfpence can do all things.' In
this practical recognition of a great ever-present spiritual
force, the power of the Holy Spirit, has not Quakerism
still got much to teach the Church at large, and, once
learnt, might not a new era dawn on Christianity ? "

THE JVI ARTYRJS Of BOSTON y\ND
THEIF[ FRIEND^.

" Not victims merely, they were willing sacrifices ; they were not
slain, they offered up themselves. . . . Willing submission, spring-
ing from trusting love, may indeed raise any sufferings into sacrifices,
for God loveth a cheerful giver. In all sacrifices it is the offering up
of self, not of things, which is precious — the love, and not the mere
act." — " The Maetyes op Spaix, axd Libeeatoes of Holland."

THE MARTYRS OF BOSTON AND THEIR
FRIENDS.

" The blood which makes the robes of martyrs white, is not their
own." — The Author of" The Schonberg Cotta Family."

" What a God have the English, who deal so with
one another about their God ! " was the exclamation of
an Indian chief after offering a " warm house " to
Nicholas Upsal, who, notwithstanding the infirmities of
old age, was exiled from Boston in the winter of 1656.
He had ventured to remonstrate with the rulers of Mas-
sachusetts, on their passing a law for the banishment of
" that cursed sect of heretics lately risen up in the world,
commonly called Quakers," and prohibiting all com-
manders of ships, under penalty of a heavy fine, from
bringing them into that jurisdiction. Leaving his wife
and children, and the colony in which long before he
had taken refuge from persecution at home, the old man
at length reached Rhode Island. Although during many
years he had taken deep interest in the particular Puri-
tan congregation of which he was a member, he had
found that forms and ceremonies could not satisfy his
soul, and on hearing of the doctrines held by Friends
he was " much refreshed." Probably some suspicion of
this spiritual sympathy with the "heretics," increased
the bitterness of his persecutors, who held the creed
that,

" Toleration is the first-born child
Of all abominations and deceits."

224

THE MARTYRS OF BOSTON

Only a few months after the banishment of Nicholas
Upsal, a vessel from London sailed into Boston Bay,
on board of which were two Friends named Mary Dyer
and Ann Burden. Both had left Massachusetts some
twenty years earlier as Antinomian exiles, and Mary
Dyer had taken a prominent part in that secession,
whilst her force of character and vigorous understand-
ing, no doubt, caused her to be regarded as a formidable
opponent by the orthodox Puritans.

Her husband and herself took refuge in Rhode
Island, which the new sect, with the assistance of
Boger Williams, purchased of the Narragansett Indians.
In this young colony it was decided that " none should
be accounted a delinquent for doctrine." During a
visit to Great Britain Mary Dyer became a Friend, and
was a minister in that Society at the time of her return
to the forbidden port of Boston. She is described by
Croese as " a person of no mean extract and parentage,
of an estate pretty plentiful, of a comely stature and
countenance, of a piercing knowledge in many things,
of a wonderful sweet and pleasant discourse — fit for
exeat affairs." Ann Burden was a widow, and was
desirous to collect some debts due to her husband's
estate. But, as might be anticipated, both she and her
friend were at once seized and cast into prison, and at
the end of three months Ann Burden was banished to
England. When Mary Dyer's husband, who was not a
Friend, heard of her imprisonment, he came from Rhode
Island, and succeeded in obtaining her release and leave
to take her home, after becoming " bound in a great
penalty not to lodge her in any town of the colony, nor
permit any to have speech with her on the journey."

AND THEIR FRIENDS.

225

But no Puritanical power, no human hand, was strong
enough to suppress the heaven-implanted and divinely-
directed zeal of the Friends to share their spiritual
treasure with others. About this time six of those who
had been driven from Boston the preceding year, believed
that the Lord was calling them thither again, and were
assured that He would give them grace to endure any
suffering they might have to pass through. But the
practical difficulty was how to obtain a passage to New
England, for the enactment of the Court of Boston
naturally deterred the owners of vessels from taking
them on board. This trial of faith was not a long one.
A Friend and minister named Robert Fowler, who
resided in Yorkshire, had been engaged in building a
small bark, and had meanwhile been impressed with
the idea that it was God's design that it should be used
for the promotion of His cause. New England came
before his mental vision, but imagining what might be
involved by such a voyage, and dreading the parting
from his wife and children, he at first thought he would
as soon die as face the perils which would in all
probability ensue. But after a while he was, we learn,
" by the strength of God made willing to do His will,"
having been " refreshed and raised up by His instru-
ment, George Fox." Accordingly he sailed to London,
and there consulted a Friend who was deeply inte-
rested in the visits of ministers to distant lands ; and
wholly unsafe as it might seem to cross the Atlantic
in so small a craft as the Woodhouse, no doubt was felt
that this was the right mode of transit for the Friends
who were anxious to return to Massachusetts. They
were joined by five other ministers of the Society, one

Q

226

THE MARTYRS OF BOSTON

of whom was a young London merchant, named William
Eobinson.

In the summer of 1657 Eobert Fowler received, he
tells us, " the Lord's servants aboard, who came with
a mighty hand and an outstretched arm with them."
At the Downs William Dewsbury visited them.
" When I came off," he writes to Margaret Fell, " they
did go on in the name and power of the Lord our
God. His everlasting presence keep them in the unity,
in the life, and prosper them in His work : for many
dear children shall come forth in the power of God
in those countries where they desire to go."* Whilst
the JVoodhouse was waiting in Portsmouth Harbour for
a fair wind, William Eobinson addressed a few lines to
Margaret Fell: — "My dear love salutes thee in that
. . . which was before words were, in which I stand
faithful to Him who hath called us. ... I know thee
and have union with thee, though absent from thee.
... I thought "ood to let thee know the names of
them that do go. . . . Humphrey Norton, Eobert
Hodshon, Dorothy Waugh, Christo. Holder, William
Brend, John Copeland, Eichard Doudney, Mary
Weatherhead, Sarah Gibbons, Mary Clarke. The
Master of the ship, his name is Eobert Fowler, a
Friend." He writes this letter from Southampton,
where he had landed with another Friend in order to

* In the following year the first Yearly Meeting of the Society was
held at Scalehouse, in Yorkshire, at which it was recommended that
a general collection should be made in aid of Gospel Missions, " to
be speedily sent up to London as a free-will offering for the Seed's
sake ; " and an Epistle to this effect was drawn up, in which, also,
deep sympathy is expressed for those who had " so freely given up
their friends, their near relations, their country, and worldly estates,
yea, and their own lives."

AXD THEIR FKIEXDS.

227

hold a meeting, for — as Robert Fowler quaintly says
in reference to this delay — " the ministers of Christ
were not idle, but went forth and gathered sticks,
and kindled a fire, and left it burning." The voyage
of the little bark was a very remarkable one.

For fifty leagues they were accompanied by three
ships bound for Newfoundland, which speedily took
a northward course on seeing the approach of a man-
of-war. Humphrey Norton told the captain that early
in the morning it had been shown him that enemies
were near, and also that the Lord would preserve them
from harm ; and by means of a strong wind they were
delivered from their dangerous position. Left alone on
the wide ocean, they earnestly sought guidance from
God, and believed that He bade them " cut through,
steer their straightest course, and mind nothing but
Him." " Unto which thing," says Robert Fowler,
"He much provoked us, and caused us to meet together
every day, and He Himself met with us, and manifested
Himself largely unto us. After we had been five weeks
at sea, wherein the powers of darkness appeared in the
greatest strength against us, having sailed but about
•300 leagues, Humphrey Norton, falling into commu-
nion with God, told me that he had received a comfort-
able answer ; and also that about such a day we should
land in America, which was even so fulfilled." They
likewise felt that the circumstances attending their
landing in the New World wonderfully manifested the
loving care of their Lord. Blessed will be the result
if we their successors, crossing " Life's solemn main,"
with a like faith "steer the straightest course :' through
its varied avocations, hallowing all by performing

228

THE MARTYRS OF BOSTON

them under God's guidance and in the light of His
countenance.

As the vessel was entering a creek between Dutch
Plantation and Long Ireland, " the power of the Lord,"
writes Bobert Fowler, "fell much upon us, and an
irresistible word came unto us, That the seed in America
shall he as the sand of the sea : it was published in the
ears of the brethren, which caused tears to break forth
in fulness of joy." He was also able to rejoice in the
evidence granted him that the prayers of the Church at
home did indeed ascend on their behalf. Five of the
Friends landed at New York, whilst the remaining six
went on to Ehode Island. Soon after their arrival,
John Copeland says in a letter to his parents : — " Take
no thought for me. The Lord's power hath over-
shadowed me, and man I do not fear; for my trust
is in the Lord, who is become our shield and buckler,
and exceeding great reward." Thus did God prepare
His youthful servant to suffer for His sake.

A few weeks later, Christopher Holder and himself
were lying in Boston gaol, without bedding, or even
straw, fearfully lacerated from the effect of thirty
lashes barbarously inflicted with a knotted scourge. For
three days the gaoler refused to supply them with
food or water, but they were upheld by their Saviour,
and enabled to rejoice in His manifested love. Being-
accused as " blasphemers, heretics, and deceivers," they
issued a declaration of faith, containing the following
sentences : —

" In Him do we believe, who is the only-begotten Son of
the Father, full of grace and truth. And in Him do we
trust alone for salvation ; by whose blood we are washed

AND THEIR FRIENDS.

229

from sin ; through Whom we have access to the Father
with boldness, being justified by faith in believing in His
name. AVho has sent forth the Holy Ghost, to wit, the
Spirit of Truth, that proceedeth from the Father and the
Son ; by which we are sealed and adopted sons and heirs of
the kingdom of Heaven. . . . Believe in the Light, that
you may be children of the light ; for as you love it and
obey it, it will lead you to repentance, bring you to know
Him in whom is remission of sins, in Whom God is well
pleased ; AVho will give you an entrance into the kingdom
of God, an inheritance amongst them that are sanctified."

But the Governors would not allow any such asser-
tion to alter their opinion that Quakerism was a dan-
gerous heresy, and, terribly rigorous as was the law
against its promulgators, it was not sufficiently so to
satisfy them ; for Endicott and Bellingham gave orders
that all the Friends then in prison should be severely
whipped twice a week. But the humanity of the
inhabitants of Boston revolted at this decree, and the
sympathy thus aroused led to the release of the sufferers,
who were at once banished from the colony. Soon
afterwards John Copeland and his friend William Brend
were sentenced to a severe scourging when passing
through New Plymouth. The age of the latter awoke no
compassion in the hearts of the persecutors; the following
year, after holding several meetings with William Ledra,
of Barbadoes, he was imprisoned at Boston, and received
such brutal beatings — inflicted with a pitched rope,
by a gaoler who had previously kept him without food
for five days, and most cruelly fettered him for many
hours — that he appeared to be dying.* Endicott being
alarmed at this, sent a physician to him, who thought

* W. B. had refused to work, not thinking it right to submit to
prison discipline, as his confinement was unjust.

230

THE MARTYRS OF BOSTON

his recovery impossible. But the hand of an unseen
Healer was laid on him, and he must have been at least
ninety when, eighteen years later, the following burial
note was made out: — "William Brend, of the Liberty
of Katherine's, near the Tower, a minister, died 7-vii.
1676, and was buried at Bunhill Fields." Before
returning to England he laboured in Bhode Island
and the West Indies.

In 1662 he was one of the many hundred Friends
confined in Newgate, fifty-two of whom died in con-
sequence of diseases caused by the loathsome state of
that prison. We may form some idea of the heavenly
consolation granted to this venerable pilgrim, in that
hour of need, by his beautiful " Salutation to all
Friends," from which a brief extract follows :■ — " It
hath been upon my heart when in the sweet repose of
the streams of my Father's love and life, by which my
heart hath been overcome, to visit you witli a loving
salutation from the place of my outward bonds." After
bidding them " flock together into our Father's fold, to
get into His tent of safety, and lie down in the arms
of His dear love," etc., he adds : " Oh ! in the love and
life of the Lamb, look over all weakness in one another,
as God doth look over all the weakness in every one of
us, and doth love us for His own Son's sake — in so
doing peace will abound in our borders, it will flow
forth amongst us like a river, and it will keep out jars,
strifes, and contentions."

As the Governors of Massachusetts were regardless
of old age, so were they of the weakness of women : we
read of the astonishment of the people of Boston at
hearing Sarah Gibbons and her young friend, Dorothy

AND THEIR FRIENDS.

231

Waugh, offering praise and thanksgiving for the gracious
support granted them during a cruel scourging, three
days before and three days after which they were kept
without food. A little later Endicott sentenced Hored
Gardner, of Rhode Island, to the punishment of the
knotted scourge : she had left her home at Newport,
with the belief that her Lord had called her to labour
for Him at Weymouth, in Massachusetts, where her
ministry was cordially received. The maid who had
accompanied her on this perilous journey, to assist in
taking charge of her infant, was the victim of a similar
sentence ; and the only protection granted the baby
was that afforded by its mother's arms, who — when the
executioner stayed his hands — prayed that her per-
secutors might be forgiven, because " they knew not
what they did."

At a later date, Alice Ambrose, Mary Tomkins,
and Ann Coleman (who was, apparently, young and in
delicate health), were sentenced to be whipped through
eleven towns, covering a distance of nearly eighty
miles. Although they were themselves enabled to
praise the Lord for the marvellous help He granted them,
the sight of their " torn bodies and weary steps" in the
third town through which they passed, excited so much
pity that one of the inhabitants induced the constable to
commit the prisoners and the warrant to his care, and
at once set them at liberty. Taking advantage of their
unlooked-for release, they went to New Quechawanah,
where they had a meeting. It was for a time feared that
Ann Coleman would die from the effect of other
barbarous scourgings. To George Fox she writes :
" Oh, the love of the Lord, who hath kept His hand-

232

THE MARTYRS OF BOSTON

maid that put her trust in Him. . . . What shall I say
unto thee of the love of my Father. . . . None can make
me afraid. . . . Much service for the Lord iu this land,
and it hath not heen in vain ; and so, let thy prayers
be unto the Lord for me. ... In that life and love
which is unchangeable art thou near me." Good cause,
indeed, has that patient historian, Sewel, for exclaiming,
" But when should I have done, if I would describe all
the whippings inflicted on the Quakers in those parts ! "

Sarah Gibbons and Dorothy Waugh, soon after leaving
Boston, returned to Pdiode Island, where they had
previously been engaged in religious service, and we
now find their names associated with that of Mary
Dyer. About this time Humphrey Norton was finding
a short respite from persecution in the same colony. A
few months earlier his ministerial labours had been
interrupted by an imprisonment at Newhaven, Con-
necticut, where his right hand was deeply branded with
the letter H, as a sign that he was a condemned heretic,
and he was flogged in such a manner as to make some
from the crowd, gathered by beat of drum, exclaim,
"Do they mean to kill the man?" But He, who of
old caused His children to receive " no hurt " in the
midst of the seven-times heated furnace, wonderfully
upheld him in this hour of extremest need ; for he
states that his " body was as if it had been covered
with balm." Much did the people marvel when, at the
conclusion of the infliction, he raised his voice in
thanksgiving and prayer. Not long after Humphrey
Norton received another scourging at New Plymouth.

His rest in Bhode Island was a short one, for he
soon thought it right to go to Boston in company with

AND THEIU FKIENDS.

233

a young Friend, named John Eous, who had previously
been his associate in service, and sometimes in suffering,
for their Lord ; he was the son of Lieutenant-Colonel
Iious, a wealthy sugar-planter of Barbadoes, who after-
wards became a Friend, having, it is said, been much
impressed by the ministry of his son. When Humphrey
Norton told John Kous that sleep had fled from him
because of the sorrow occasioned by a " sense of the
strength of the enmity against the righteous seed " in
Boston, he also felt that he must bear a part " with the
prisoners of hope, which at that time stood bound for
the testimony of Jesus." In order to lose no time,
they travelled night and day, and on their arrival at
Boston were told of the state in which William Brend
then lay, from the effect of the gaoler's cruelty, and
were begged by their informant to leave the town, or
they would be " dead men." But they were bound on
a holy mission, from which no human power could turn
them aside. " Such was our load," says Humphrey
Norton, " that beside Him who laid it upon us, no
flesh nor place could ease us." And a few hours later
we find him, at the conclusion of the usual lecture of
John Norton — a minister who notoriously instigated
persecution — beginning an address in these words :
" Verily this is the sacrifice which the Lord God
accepts not ; for whilst with the same spirit that you
sin — you preach, and pray, and sing ; that sacrifice is
an abomination."

Although a charge of blasphemy could not be proved
against him, there was no doubt that his companion
and himself were guilty of being Quakers, and as such
they were sentenced to imprisonment and whipping.

23-i

THE MARTYRS OF BOSTON

The former, as the sou of Lieutenant-Colonel Eous,
who had formerly resided in the colony, was at first
courteously treated by the magistrates, who hoped they
might induce this young champion of the Cross to cast
aside " the heresy " he was upholding. But, notwith-
standing their flattery, he steadfastly stood his ground ;
vindicated the doctrines which he had adopted; and,
as an English citizen, claimed the right of a trial in
an English Court. The Governors, knowing that an
alarming exposure of their conduct towards Friends
would he involved by this, would not hear of such a
course. " No appeal to England ! No appeal to Eng-
land ! " was their cry. Three days later the prisoners
underwent the flogging to which they had been con-
demned ; but when this punishment was soon renewed,
the public indignation, already aroused by the treatment
of William Brend, became so strong that it soon led to
the liberation of the prisoners.

In the midst of all afflictions the Friends were aided
by the assurance that their labours and sufferings were
not in vain in the Lord. In a letter to Margaret Fell,
John Rous says : " A firm foundation is there laid in
this land, such an one as the devil will never get broken
up." He writes this letter when again in Boston prison,
where, about a fortnight later, he and his companions,
John Copeland and Christopher Holder, underwent
the mutilation of having the right ear cut off1. Shall
we shrink from reading of their sufferings when we
see the spirit with which they were enabled to endure
them? " Tu flic strength of God" is their language,
"we suffered joyfully, having freely given up not one
member, but all, if the Lord so required, for the sealing

AND THEIR FRIENDS.

235

of our testimony which the Lord hath given us ;" words
which may recall those of Brainerd with regard to his
prayers for his brother and himself: " My heart sweetly
exulted in the thought of any distresses that might
light on him or me, in the advancement of Christ's
kingdom upon earth."

A few years later, John Eous settled in England,
and married the eldest daughter of his beloved friend
Margaret Fell, to whom he proved a true son. Early
in 1659, and a few months after the release of John
Eous and his companions, William Eobinson, whose
labours had been chiefly confined to Virginia, where
his ministry was much blessed, arrived at Ehode
Island. Here he met with Marmaduke Stevenson,
who had lately come from Barbadoes, and who was
a young Yorkshire agriculturist. Eour years earlier,
when following ^the plough in his native land, he was
— to quote his own words — " filled with the love and
presence of the living God, which did ravish my heart
. . . and as I stood still, with my heart and mind
stayed upon the Lord, the word of the Lord came to
me in a still, small voice, ' I have ordained thee a
prophet unto the nations.' " He knew* that he " was
but a child for such a weighty matter," but he was
empowered to put his trust in God, and when Bar-
badoes was set before him, a heavenly assurance was
given him that the Lord would provide for his " dear
and loving wife and tender children." Three years
later he sailed for that island, where, on hearing of the
law which had been passed in New England for putting
to death such Eriends as returned after banishment, an
inward voice seemed to whisper: "Thou hnowest not,

236

THE MARTYRS OF BOSTON

but thou mayst go thither ;" and after a while, finding
a vessel ready for a voyage to Rhode Island, he took
his passage in her. He spent a short time in reli-
gious service amongst the Friends there, but writes
that " the word of the Lord came to him saying, ' Go
to Boston, with thy brother, William Robinson,' and
at His command I was obedient to give up to His
will ; ... for He had said unto me that He had a great
work for me to do."

To Robinson, also, as clear a call had been given
whilst going one afternoon from Newport to the resi-
dence of one of his friends. "The word of the Lord,"
he says, " came expressly unto me, and commanded me
to pass to the town of Boston, my life to lay down in
His will, for the accomplishing of His service. ... I
was a child and obedience was demanded of me by the
Lord, who filled me with living strength and power
from His heavenly presence, which at that time did
mightily overshadow me, and my life did say Amen to
what the Lord required of me." The two young minis-
ters arrived at Boston on one of the public fast-days,
and at the conclusion of a religious service they thought
it right to attempt to address the assembly, but were
soon arrested. Their imprisonment was shared by a
child of eleven or twelve, from Providence, named
Patience Scott, who had sometimes spoken in religious
meetings, and now believed herself called on to plead
with the persecutors, from whose cruelty her mother
had not long before severely suffered. When this little
girl was examined by the magistrates we find that " she
spoke so well to the purpose that she confounded her
enemies," who, after due consideration of " the malice of

AND THEIR FRIENDS.

237

Satan by all means and ways to propagate error — put
to his shifts to make use of such a child," decided " so
far to slight her as a Quaker, as only to admonish and
instruct her according to her capacity, and to discharge
her."

In a letter to George Fox, from Boston gaol, William
Kobinson writes of how God had had compassion on
him, — " seeing how willingly I was given up to do His
will," — by constraining Marmaduke Stevenson to accom-
pany him to Boston. He thus concludes : — " Oh ! my
dearly beloved, thou who art endued with power from
on High ; who art of a quick discerning in the fear of
God ; oh ! remember us — let thy prayers be put up
unto the Lord God for us, that His power and strength
may rest with us and upon us ; that faithful we may be
preserved to the end. Amen."*

Soon the aged Mary Dyer arrived at Boston, con-
strained to carry comfort and cheer to her captive
fellow-believers there, and was shortly imprisoned also.
When the Friends were at length brought before the
governors and magistrates, Robinson endeavoured to
make them comprehend that his companions and him-
self had come to Boston from the clear conviction that
such was the will of God concerning them ; and there-
fore, if the rulers put them to death for breaking their
law, they would be guilty of shedding innocent blood.
It is said — and there is no slight significance in the re-
mark— that his words seemed to " cut them to the
quick ; " but the speaker was soon silenced by a hand-

* See Iioicdcn's History of the Society of Friends in America (vol. i.
p. 170), in which most of the material used in constructing this
sketch has been found.

238

THE MARTYRS OF BOSTON

kerchief being thrust into his mouth, and was afterwards
sentenced to receive twenty lashes in the streets of the
city. The Friends were then liberated and ordered to
leave the jurisdiction on pain of death.

William Robinson and Marmaduke Stevenson, living,
as they did, under a higher and holier law than any
mere human authority, felt that the Lord still had ueed
of them to testify for Him in this colony; so on the
day after their release they went to Salem, desiring to
invigorate the faith of their friends in that neighbour-
hood. The latter, wdio were afraid to have meetings
held in their houses, met the ministers in a wood not
far from the town, where, so writes a Friend who was
present, " a great flocking there was to hear. The Lord
was mightily with them, and they spake of the things
of God boldly, to the affecting and tendering the hearts
of many." A warm welcome was given them as they
went northwards to Piscattaway.

The mere fact of remaining in Massachusetts, at the
peril of their lives, in order to display the banner of
their Lord, naturally gave rise to inquiry concerning
the doctrines they preached. A Friend who had accom-
panied Marmaduke Stevenson from TJiode Island,
writes : — " Divers were convinced, the power of the
Lord accompanying them, and with astonishment con-
founded their enemies before them ; great was their
service abroad in that jurisdiction for four weeks and
upwards." When these labours were ended they were
constrained by the love of Christ to visit Boston, there
to be witnesses for Him. They were joined by six
Friends of Salem, who, animated by a like holy motive,
wished, even at the risk of their own safety, to uphold

AND Til EI It Fill ENDS.

239

the hands of those whom they already looked on as
martyrs.

As this little band of faithful men and women drew
near the city they were met by the constabulary and a
rough crowd, and were soon committed to prison.
Robinson and Stevenson were placed in chains, and
confined in a separate cell, whilst all their papers, in-
cluding the journal of the former, were taken from
them. A few days earlier, Mary Dyer, who had spent
a little while with her family, had reappeared, and been
again imprisoned. Before long the three Friends were
brought before the General Court, and to Endicott's
question why they had returned to the jurisdiction
whence they had been banished on pain of death, they
each replied that they came only in obedience to the
Divine call. William Robinson asked leave to read an
explanation which he had prepared, and when forbidden
to do this, laid it on the table.

After describing the heavenly intimation he had re-
ceived that it was God's will that he should lay down
his life for the cause of Christ, he writes : " I, being a
child, durst not question the Lord in the least, and as
the Lord made me willing, dealing gently and kindly
with me, as a tender father by a faithful child whom he
tenderly loves, so the Lord did deal with me, in minis-
tering His life unto me, which gave and gives me
strength to perform what the Lord required of me. . . .
Therefore all who are ignorant of the motion of the
Lord in the inward parts, be not hasty in judging in
this matter. . . . The presence of the Lord and His
Heavenly life doth accompany me, so that I can say in
truth, Blessed be the Lord God of my life, who hath

240

THE MARTYRS OF BOSTON

counted me worthy and called me hereunto. . . . Will
ye put us to death for obeying the Lord, the God of the
whole earth ? "

Endicott took up this document, and, after reading it,
pronounced the sentence of death on its writer. A few
days before his execution, in an epistle addressed " To
the Lord's people," William Eobinson says : " The
streams of my Father's love run daily through me,
from the Holy Fountain of Life to the seed throughout
the whole creation. I am overcome with love, for it is
my life and length of days ; it is my glory and my
daily strength. I am full of the quickening power of
the Lord Jesus Christ. ... I shall enter with my
Beloved into eternal rest and peace, and I shall depart
with everlasting joy in my heart, and praises in my
mouth." After Marmaduke Stevenson had received his
sentence, he solemnly addressed the magistrates, con-
cluding with these words : " Assuredly if you put us to
death, you will bring innocent blood upon your own
heads, and swift destruction will come upon you." It
is a remarkable fact that many of these persecutors
came to an untimely end, or were visited by severe per-
sonal calamities which resulted in death. " The hand
or judgment of the Lord is upon me," were the words
of John Norton, who, whilst walking in his own house,
leant his head against a chimney-piece, and sank down
never to speak again. And Major-General Adderton,
who had scoffingly said, " The judgments of the Lord
God are not come upon us yet ! " was overtaken by a
sudden and shocking death.

During his imprisonment Stevenson wrote his " Call
to the Work and Service of the Lord ; " and, not losing

AND THEIR FRIENDS.

241

sight of his old friends, he prepared an address to his
" neighbours and the people of the town of Shipton,
Weighton, and elsewhere." " My love runs out to you
all in pity to your souls," he writes. " which lie in deatli
as mine hath done, but the Lord in His eternal love
hath redeemed me. . . . When I ponder it in my
heart, my soul is ravished with His love, and broken
into tears at His kindness towards me, who was by
nature a child of wrath as well as others. Oh, the con-
sideration of His love hath constrained me to follow
Him, and to give up all for His sake, if it be the laying
down of my life ; for none are the disciples of Christ
but they that follow Him in His cross. The Lord
knows I do not forget you."

A few days before his execution, he wrote a letter,
"To the Lord's People," from which the following ex-
tracts are taken : —

" You lambs of my ^Father's fold and sheep of His pasture,
the remembrance of you is precious to me, my dearly beloved
ones, . . . who are reconciled to God, and one to another,
in that which sea and land cannot separate ; here you may
feel me knit and joined to you in the spirit of truth ; and
linked to you as members of His body, who is our Head and
Lock of sure defence ; here we are kept safe in the hour of
temptation and in the day of trial shall we be preserved in
the hollow of His hand ; here His banner of love will be over
us. . . . So, my dear friends ! let us always wait at the altar
of the Lord, to see the table spread, that so we may sit down
and eat together, and be refreshed with the hidden manna,
that comes from Him, who is our life, our peace, our strength,
and our preserver night and day. Oh, my beloved ones !
let us all go on in His strength, who is our Prince and
Saviour. ... If I forget you, then let the Lord forget me.
Xay, verily, you cannot be forgotten by me ; so long as I
abide in the Vine, I am a branch of the same nature with
you, which the Lord hath blessed, we grow together in His

It

242

THE MARTYRS OF BOSTON

life and image, as members of His body ; where we shall live
together to all eternity."

After Mary Dyer had heard her sentence, she only
replied by the significant words, " The will of the Lord
be done." And when Endicott impatiently exclaimed,
" Take her away, marshal," she added, " Yea, joyfully
I go ; " for her heart was filled with heavenly consola-
tion from the love of Christ, and from the thought that
she was counted worthy to suffer for His sake. She
told the marshal that it was unnecessary for him to
guard her to the prison. " I believe you, Mrs. Dyer,"
he answered ; " but I must do as I am commanded."
From the House of Correction she addressed " An
Appeal to the Rulers of Boston," in which she asks
nothing for herself, but manifests — as an anonymous
writer remarks — " the courage of an apostle contending
for the Truth, and the tenderness of a woman feeling
for the sufferings of her people." She writes : " I have
no self ends, the Lord knoweth ; for if my life were
freely granted by you, it would not avail me, so long as
I should daily hear or see the sufferings of my dear
brethren." It is said that on the day preceding that
appointed for the execution, Mary Dyer's eldest son
arrived at Boston, and was allowed to remain all night
with his mother ; he came in the vain hope of inducing
her to make such concessions as might be the means of
saving her life.

The erection of gallows on Boston Common for these
guiltless victims awakened such strong feelings of
amazement and indignation amongst the inhabitants, as
to give alarm to the magistrates. On the morning of
the day appointed for the execution a great number of

AND THEIR FKIENDS.

243

people gathered around the prison, and gave earnest
attention to William Robinson, who addressed them
from the open window of an upper room. But the
rulers, who always studiously endeavoured to prevent
the Friends from holding intercourse with the colonists,
were afraid for the crowd to listen, at this crisis, to
Quaker preaching, and accordingly sent a military cap-
tain to disperse them. Finding this impracticable, he
entered the gaol in a violent passion, and, hurling some
of the prisoners down stairs, shut them into a low dark
cell. One of this little company writes : " As we sat
together waiting upon the Lord, it was a time of love ;
for as the world hated us and despitefully used us, so
the Lord was pleased in a wonderful manner to mani-
fest His supporting love and kindness to us in our
innocent sufferings ; especially to the worthies who had
now near finished their course. . . . God was with
them, and many sweet and heavenly sayings they gave
unto us, being themselves filled with comfort. . . .
While we were yet embracing each other, with full and
tender hearts, the officers came in and took the two
from us [Robinson and Stevenson], as sheep for the
slaughter."

Boston Common was separated by the distance of a
mile from the gaol, and the prisoners were escorted by
two hundred men, armed with halberds, guns, swords,
and pikes — in addition to many horsemen. It was
thought the safest arrangement for this procession to
avoid the direct thoroughfare through the city, and the
drummers were ordered to walk immediately before the
three captives, and to beat more loudly if they should
attempt to speak : thus when William Robinson did so,

244

THE MARTYRS OF BOSTON

the only words which were audible were, " This is your
hour, and the power of darkness." Marmaduke Steven-
son's voice was drowned by the same means. " Yet,
they went on," as Sewel says, " with great cheerfulness,
as going to an everlasting wedding " — which, indeed,
they were.

In reply to a coarse taunt from the marshal, Mary
Dyer said, " This is to me an hour of the greatest joy I
ever had in this world. No ear can hear, no tongue
can utter, no heart can understand, the sweet incomes
and the refreshings of the Spirit of the Lord which I
now feel." Having bade farewell to his friends, and
mounted the scaffold, William Robinson addressed the
assembled crowd : " We suffer not as evil-doers, but as
those who have testified and manifested the Truth.
This is the day of your visitation, and therefore I desire
you to mind the light of Christ which is in you, to
which I have borne testimony, and am now going to
seal my testimony with my blood." Wilson, a minister
of the city, changing the scoffing tone he had assumed
whilst they were walking to the Common, now ex-
claimed,— " Hold thy tongue, be silent, thou art going
to die with a lie in thy mouth." After the executioner
had adjusted the rope, William Robinson said, "Now
are ye made manifest ; I suffer for Christ, in whom I
live, and for whom I die!" Marmaduke Stevenson also
spoke a few words to the spectators : " Be it known
unto you all this day that we suffer not as evil-doers,
but for conscience' sake. This day shall we be at rest
with the Lord." We may easily imagine that Mary
Dyer would now feel that much of the ordeal was over.
Yet, even when witnessing the death of her young com-

AND THEIR FRIENDS.

245

panions, we may believe, as we recur to the words she
had lately uttered, that she might have said, —

" Like to a sea-girt rock I stand,

Deep sunk in peace, though storms rage by,
As calm as if on every hand.

Were only Thou, 0 God, and I."

When every preparation had been made for her exe-
cution, the awful silence maintained around the stage
was broken by the piercing cry : " Stop ! she is re-
prieved." This respite had been granted to the pro-
longed intercession of her son, who was waiting at the
prison to welcome her. The friends of the martyrs
were not allowed to provide coffins for them, nor even
to enclose the pit into which the bodies were thrown.
Wilson, the minister to whom allusion has already been
made, composed a scoffing song on the sufferers.

But no amount of indignity which might be heaped
upon them could prevent their death from being a
solemn attestation to the futility of every effort of a
blind bigotry to crush the conscience of those who,
bearing the image and superscription of Christ, rendered
unto God the things that are God's ; and consequently
with regard to these " things," acknowledged no ruler
but Him in whose kingdom their spirits dwelt. So
deep an impression was made on John Chamberlain,
an inhabitant of Boston, by what he saw and heard that
day, as to cause his convincement of the truth of the
doctrines held by Friends ; before two years were over
he had been imprisoned, banished, and also cruelly
whipped through three towns ; yet his Saviour suffered
not his faith to fail, for we learn that this persecution,

246

THE MARTYRS OF BOSTON

" so far from beating him from the Truth, rather drove
him nearer to it."

About five months after leaving Massachusetts, Mary
Dyer felt that it was her duty to return to Boston once
more. She had in the interval, besides visiting her
home, spent some time in Long Island, and had also
laboured for her Lord at Shelter Island. It was early
in 1660 that she re-entered Boston, where many Friends
who had arrived in the province were now imprisoned,
and, after pursuing her gospel service for ten days, she
was arraigned before the General Court. When the
sentence of death had been passed she said : " I came
in obedience to the will of God to the last General
Court, praying you to repeal your unrighteous sentence
of banishment upon pain of death : and that same is my
work now and earnest request, although I told you
that if you refused to repeal it, the Lord would send
other of His servants to witness against it." Here
Endicott interrupted her to ask, "Are you a pro-
phetess ? " "I spoke the words," was her reply>
" which the Lord spoke to me, and now the thing is
come to pass." She would have added more on what
she had felt to be the Lord's call to her, had not the
Governor impatiently exclaimed, " Away with her !
away with her ! "

At nine the following morning the marshal came to
fetch her ; a strong guard of soldiers were in attendance,
and drummers were ordered to walk before and behind
the prisoner, so soon to receive an eternal release.
After she had ascended the ladder, she was told that if
she would return home her life should be spared.
" Nay," she answered, " I cannot ; for in obedience to

AND TTIEI15 FKIENDS.

247

the will of the Lord I came, and in His will I abide,
faithful unto death." To the charge of being guilty of
her own blood, she replied ; " Nay, I came to take
blood-guiltiness from you, desiring you to repeal the
unrighteous and unjust law; therefore my blood will
be required of your hands, who wilfully do it." When
asked if she wished any of the people to pray for her,
she said she desired the prayers of all the people of
God : and to the proposal that an Elder should do so,
she answered : " Nay — first a child, then a young man,
then a strong man, before [being] an Elder in Christ
Jesus." When accused of having said she had been
in Paradise, she replied, without hesitation, "Yea, I
have been in Paradise these several days." The few
more words she spoke were on the everlasting happiness
now so near at hand.

A Friend who had united in her ministerial services
on Shelter Island sums up his description of her by
saying : " She even shined in the image of God." On
the day of Mary Dyer's martyrdom, two of the im-
prisoned Friends, Joseph and Jane Nicholson, from
Cumberland, were summoned by the rulers, in the hope
that the deed that had just been enacted would shake
their constancy ; but, as a contemporary writer says,
" The power of the Lord in them was above all, and
they feared them not, nor their threats of putting them
to death." These menaces were not, however, carried
out : probably the manifestation of public feeling
warned those in authority that there might be danger
in again perpetrating an execution wholly unsanctioned
by the laws of the realm. Yet some eight or nine
months later, William Ledra — who is said to have been

248

THE MARTY KS OF BOSTON

a Cornishinan, though his home was in Barhadoes —
was condemned to death for having returned to .Boston
after sentence of banishment.

When in 1658, after mutual labours for their Lord,
Ledra had shared the imprisonment of his friend
William Brend in an unventilated cell — the cruelty of
which he had been the victim had imperilled his life :
and now, notwithstanding the inclemency of a New
England winter, he was kept chained in an open
prison. On the day before his death he addressed a
letter to "The little flock of Christ," in which he
remarks that he was filled " with the joy of the Lord
in the beauty of holiness, whilst his spirit was wholly
swallowed up in the bosom of eternity. ... As the
flowing of the ocean [he continues] doth fill every
creek and branch thereof, and then retires again
towards its own being and fulness, and leaves a savour
behind it : so doth the life and virtue of God flow into
every one of your hearts, whom He hath made partakers
of His Divine nature." In allusion to his tender yearn-
ings for the young, he says : " Stand in the watch
within in the fear of the Lord, which is the very
entrance of wisdom, and the state wherein you are
ready to receive the secrets of the Lord. Hunger and
thirst patiently, be not weary, neither doubt ; stand
still, and cease from thine own workings, and in due
time thou shalt enter into the rest, and thine eyes
shall behold His salvation. . . . Confess Him before
men. . . . Bring all things to the light, that they may
be proved whether they are wrought in God. . . .
Without grace possessed, there is no assurance of
salvation. By grace you are saved."

AND THEIll FKIEXDS.

249

The following day the fetters which had so long
bound him were knocked off, and we are told that he
went " forth to the slaughter in the meekness of the
Spirit of Jesus." He was surrounded by soldiers, in
order to prevent intercourse with his friends ; but
before mounting the scaffold he exhorted one of them
to faithfulness, and on bidding him farewell added,
" All that will be Christ's disciples must take up His
cross." A visitor to the city, from England, who
witnessed this scene, having asked leave to speak said ;
" Gentlemen, I am a stranger both to your persons and
country, yet a friend of both. For the Lord's sake
take not away the man's life, but remember Gamaliel's
counsel to the Jews. — ' if it be of men it will come to
nought ; but if it be of God ye cannot overthrow it ; '
be careful ye are not found fighters against God."
This courageous stranger also told them that they had
" no warrant from the word of God, nor precedent from
our country, nor power from His Majesty, to hang
the man." William Ledra's last words were, " I
commend my righteous cause unto Thee, 0 God ! Lord
Jesus, receive my spirit."

A few weeks before his death he wrote the following-
testimony to the willingness of God to supply all the
need of His faithful followers: — " I testify in the fear
of the Lord God that the noise of the whip on my back,
all the imprisonments, and the loud threatening of a
halter, did no more affright me, through the strength and
power of God, than if they had threatened to have bound
a spider's web on my finger — which makes me say with
unfeigned lips, Wait upon the Lord, 0 my soul ! " Like
Josiah Southwick, of Salem, he might have said,

250

THE MARTYRS OF BOSTON

" Tongue cannot express the goodness and love of God
to His suffering people." "Here is my body," were
the words of the latter when sentenced to a severe
scourging ; " if you want a further testimony to the
Truth I profess, take it and tear it in pieces ; your
sentence is no more terrifying to me than if you had taken
a feather and bloiun it up in the air."

On the day of William Ledra's execution, Wenlock
Christison, of Salem, was placed at the bar ; he, too,
had experienced, as Milton says of those days, that —

" Heavy persecution shall arise
On all, who in the worship persevere
Of Spirit and truth."

Although exiled on pain of death, he had reappeared
at Boston, and caused such consternation by entering
the Court just as sentence of death was being pronounced
on his friend, as to cause perfect silence for awhile.
When, now, in his turn condemned to die, he said,
" The will of the Lord be done. ... If you have power
to take my life from me, the which I question — / believe
yon shall never more take Quakers' lives from them. Note
my words."

Just at this crisis the rulers of Massachusetts received
tidings from England which caused a sudden change in
their conduct ; for on the day preceding that which had
been fixed on for the execution of Wenlock Christison,
he and twenty-seven other Friends were set at liberty ;
and after two of them had been whipped through the
town they were taken by a body of soldiers out of the
jurisdiction.

It would be but a false refinement of feeling to be
unwilling to read of the sufferings which, not young

AND THEIR FRIENDS.

251

and strong men only, but tender and delicate women,
were enabled to endure for Christ. Moreover, is there
not instruction for us in this —

" Mournful record of an earlier age,
That pale and half-effaced lies hidden away
Beneath the fresher writing of to-day " 1

We are not called to martyrdom : yet — notwith-
standing our exemption from outward suffering, our
unmolested meetings, the open door set before us for
sharing with others the truths committed to our trust —
we are bidden to present our "bodies a living sacrifice
wholly acceptable unto God," seeking to know His will
(whether it leads in the hidden or more public path),
in order that " all the good pleasure of His goodness,
and the work of faith with power, may be fulfilled."

" Thou shalt lose thy life and find it ; thou shalt boldly cast
it forth ;

And then back again receiving, know it in its endless
worth."

JOHJM QRATTOf*.

" When I desired to speak to my Beloved, He Himself met me
most joyfully. ' Behold, I am here,' He said, ' tell me now what
new thing has happened ; but let it not slip from thee what thou
art both to do and suffer for Me.' "— Thomas A Kempis.

255

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF JOHN GPcATTON.

" Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just."

The autobiography of John Gratton* is probably but
little known in the present day. His chief end in
writing it is, he tells us, " that others may take courage to
trust in God and be obedient to Him in all things."

He was born in Derbyshire, in 1643, and when still
very young and employed in keeping his father's sheep,
the voice of the Heavenly Shepherd was often heard in
his soul. " Being but a child," he says, " I did not yet
know the Lord, nor think it had been He that met me
in my heart and conscience." The sense given him of
his sinfulness often troubled his heart ; but too fre-
quently the temptation to join his playfellows in
such sports and amusements as he knew to be wrong,
overcame him. The " sinful foolish pastimes " were
very tempting, and heavenly peace was bartered for
earthly pleasure. Still did the Holy Spirit strive in
his soul, at one time sharply reproving at another gently
guiding him ; until at length the sinfulness of his heart
was shown him in such a manner as to cause him deep

* "Journal of the Life of that Ancient Servant of Chrint John
Gratton ; giving an Account of his Exercises when Young, and
how he came to the knowledge of the Truth and was therehy raised
up to Preach the Gospel ; as also his Labour*, Travels, and Sufferings
for the same. Printed by J. Sowle, at the Bible in George Yard in
Lombard Street. 1720." Reprinted by Thomas Claye : Stockport.
1823. Pp. 123.

256

JOHN GRATTON.

distress ; but a secret hope sustained him and encou-
raged him to pray, though he knew not how. " Still,"
he writes, " I found not power to forsake the sins I was
so prone to, because I received not Him to whom all is
given, nor yet knew Him. . . . And though he appeared
to me wonderfully by His Spirit I still rejected His
counsel, . . . though He had long waited to be gracious
to me." He read much and conferred with many on
religious subjects, going from one place to another to
hear the great preachers of Oliver Cromwell's time.
After a while he joined the Presbyterian Church, and
opened his heart a little to some whom he hoped would
help him.

" But, alas ! alas ! " he writes, " they could not aid me, but
would tell me it was a good condition, and I must be troubled
with my sins as long as I lived, . . . and all this to persuade
me to sit down contented, before I was cleansed and washed
from my sins. I dared not join in the singing of psalms,
feeling I could not sing them truly as my song. I prayed
much in private, in the stable, in barns, and in bed, and on
the high moor. One day, being on the top of a hill in the
snow, I cried aloud with strong cries to the Lord, being all
alone, and desired Him to show me my own heart, and the
Lord was pleased to hear and answer my prayer at that time ;
so that He gave me so to see my own heart, that I knew it
was the Lord did show it to me to my satisfaction, for I
plainly saw it to be deceitful, and not a good, humble, pure
heart." With touching simplicity he adds : — " I was pleased
that I saw it and knew what it was ; but sorry that it was so
very bad."

Now, for the first time, he was sure that the Lord had
answered his prayer, but the fear and trouble which
followed were " undeclarable." Not long afterwards, the
Act of Uniformity caused the Presbyterian ministers to
desert their flocks, which made him weep, for he " saw

JOHN GRATTON.

257

clearly by the Holy Scriptures that they ought not to
be silent at man's command if the Lord had sent and
commanded them to preach. . . . The Presbyterian,"
he quaintly adds, " was not only removed out of the
pulpit, but out of my heart also." One form of religion
after another was tried, but he found that nothing could
satisfy him short of the enjoyment of God in his own
soul ; for he " saw that a little measure of the Spirit of
God was more precious than all this vain world." Con-
cerning this period he writes : —

" I was mightily afraid of sinning against the Lord. . . .
Sometimes I felt something that was very precious and sweet
to me, yet I did not clearly understand what it was ; but if
at any time I did or said anything amiss, I soon lost the
sight or feeling of it ; oh ! it hath been gone in a moment.
. . . Whatsoever was tinctured with evil was against it, and
it let me see it and condemned it, and me to, so far as I joined
with it. Oh ! this to enjoy, is a comfort beyond utterance to
that heart and mind which loves righteousness and hungers
after it."

About this time he met at a private house with two
or three Friends, and some words uttered by one of
them reached his inmost soul. Whilst wending his way
home through a dark wood his mind was exceedingly
distressed, but as he walked onwards he had a remark-
able vision, during which the thought arose in his heart
" that they were the Lord's people." " I was as one
amazed and in great trouble," he says, " for these were
the people of all others that endured the greatest suffer-
ings, and were by all the rest hated, reviled, and
scorned." He sat down on a stile and felt assured that
if he would follow Him who had graciously heard his
prayers, he must forsake the world, and that much
which was dear to him he must let go for the Lord. He

s

258

JOHN GRATTON.

adds, " At this I was much troubled, for I was very loth
to lose either, and would gladly have had both, but
could not ! " Conflict followed conflict ; those to whom
he appealed for comfort could not give it, and he had
not yet fully complied with Christ's invitation, " Come
unto Me." Once, when joining in the worship of the
Anabaptists, he says that a " mighty power and weight "
came over him, under the influence of which he addressed
the congregation ; but when he found that for fear of
fines their meetings would not be held as usual, he was
greatly troubled — considering such conduct a denial of
Christ before men — and again he felt himself alone.
On one occasion an Independent (whom he rather
vaguely describes as " a man of London ! ") held a meet-
ing which was attended by John Gratton, whom the
preacher asked to pray ; this, he says, " I declined doing,
feeling that it was a service which only belonged to
God to recpuire and move men to. But before he had
done preaching I was so pressed in my spirit to pray,
that it was a great exercise to forbear till he was done ;
and then I prayed, but with such power that the people
were amazed, and truly so was I too."

Next we read of much sorrow in secret : —

" I saw the baptism with the Holy Ghost and fire ; and
my pride and empty knowledge, yea, my faith that I had
got by the wisdom of man, were burned up, . . . and it
began to be much in my mind that what I had felt in me
was really the Spirit of the Lord. . . . The appearance of
it was niild, meek, low, and gentle, and full of good counsel,
but stood firm always and condemned evil. ... I had no
power to live as I desired to do. I wanted the Lord's
presence, for without that my poor soul could not find true
lvst ; though my life and conversation were such that most
loved me that knew me."

JOHN GKATTOX.

259

About this time he married, and his wife was very-
anxious that he should accompany her to church ; but
thinking that he could not now conscientiously do this,
he tells us that great sorrow fell on them, and that they
disputed oft till both wept. But the hour was at hand
when this weary pilgrim's burden was to fall from him
at the foot of the cross. During the corn harvest he
was one day riding alone in sore sorrow of soul,
when, —

" It pleased the Lord," he writes, " that whilst I was
judging and condemning myself, on a sudden, unexpectedly
and unlooked-for, the Day-Star arose in my heart, and the
Sun of Eighteousness with healing on His wings, ... so
that I was in my inward man full of the power and presence
of Almighty God ; . . . and I believed, and could not do
otherwise. Oh, then was I glad, and my soul was filled
with joy, because I had met with the Lord, who I knew
was sufficient to teach me all things, and gave me to see that
my sins would be remitted and forgiven in and through
Jesus Christ ! And Christ Jesus was now become my light,
and my salvation, and living faith sprung in me. I then
saw and felt what true faith was, and also saw that I never
had true living faith before then ; this was the free gift of
God. . . . The Scriptures now became more sweet, comfort-
able and precious to me, till I wondered that I had never
seen them so before, having read them so much night and
day."

Again were his thoughts directed to the persecuted
Quakers with a strong persuasion that with them he
should be able to worship ; which conviction he frankly
confesses made him sorry ; for if, he says,

" it had been any other people, I might have been more
at liberty to have pleased the world, and not to have been
so hated by it ; . . . for others could flee from suffering
and conform a little sometimes ; but these abode and stood,
though the winds blew, and the rains fell, and the floods

2G0

JOHN GRATTON.

beat upon them ; for the Lord enabled them to stand and
outstand it."

There were no meetings of Friends in the Peak
country where he then lived, but hearing of a gathering
at " one Widow Farnay's house," he attended it. Little
was said, yet he writes of " A sweet melody . . . the
presence of the Lord," and of " more true comfort,
refreshment and satisfaction from the Lord," than any
other meeting had ever afforded him.

" Gales of Heaven, if so He will
Sweeter melodies can wake
On the lonely mountain rill

Than the meeting waters make."

His affection now freely flowed towards the Friends
with " such a love as none know but they that have it."
Even the petty persecutions he at once met with in his
own town only filled him with joy ; nor need we wonder
at this from one who could thus describe God's dealings
with him : —

" He hath made glad my soul, and satisfied the breathings
of my spirit ; He hath opened to me the mysteries of His
kingdom, and given me a measure of His grace. . . . He
hath given to me the true bread of life, and made my heart
glad with the wine of the kingdom ; He is become my teacher
Himself, and hath gathered me into His arm of power, and
covered me with the banner of His love."

At the third meeting which he attended he felt him-
self called on by his Lord to make known His goodness ;
he could not disobey, and what he said was " to the
great joy of Friends and reaching of the people." Very
naturally John Gratton's wife was, as he writes, " sore
grieved" at what she considered her husband's fanaticism;
and though they still loved each other dearly, she was

JOHN GRATTON.

261

in much sorrow for him, and he for her. But during a
walk one evening, when his mind was greatly tried on
her account, he was made glad by the belief that the
language of the Lord to his soul was, " I will give thee
thy wife." Then he relates how at the next meeting a
Friend named William Yardley came, and afterwards
had a long conversation with her ; before the interview
ended he said, " Ann, God's love is to thee ; " " which,"
her husband says, " she feeling, was given up to obey it,
and was glad." Their happiness greatly increased, and
for thirty-five years longer she was a very comfort-
able wife to him, and never hindered him from going
abroad to visit Friends."

Much of his time was now spent in holding meetings
in his own neighbourhood and in the surrounding
counties. Very striking occasions were most of these,
and in some places Friends' meetings were established,
The truths on which he dwelt made a deep and lasting
impression on many of his own kindred — his grand-
father, ninety years old, saying, " This is that I have
been seeking for all my days." During one meeting
held in a barn, whilst he was praying, some officers
entered " railing and raging," until they came to the
spot where he knelt, " when," he says, " the power of
the Lord increased, and my voice rose strongly, and they
all stopped and turned back like men smitten, and went
quite away. . . . We had a precious meeting, and were
comforted." At another time, when disturbed in the
same way whilst preaching, strength was given him to
go on speaking, and the rough intruders becoming con-
scious of the holy atmosphere around them, and solem-
nised and silenced by it, quietly left the place. After his

262

JOHN GRATTON.

return home a meeting held in his own housewas attended
by John Gratton's father, whose object in visiting his
son was to chide him for his long absence from his wife.
But whilst he was preaching, the father's heart, like that
of some of " the chiefest of the town " who were present,
was deeply moved, and as soon as his son was silent, he
folded him in his arms and kissed him. His varied
faithful labours were followed by the peace which
passeth all understanding. " Now," says he, " I was
come to know what -the city of God is which I had read
of in the Revelation ; . . . the glory of God doth
lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof." In the
Peak country his ministry seemed to have been particu-
larly blessed to the people, so many of whom flocked
to hear him that the house would not hold them all ; so
one day, at Bradow, he went to the market-place, and,
standing on the wall under a tree, addressed the assem-
bled company. Here stones were flung at him, and two
Friends who had joined him were violently pulled down ;
but John Gratton, going to that part of the wall oppo-
site which the greatest crowd was gathered, knelt down,
" all fear of men and stones was gone " — and as he
prayed a solemn stillness came over the stormy assembly,
who afterwards quietly listened to one of the other
Friends, and the meeting ended in great sweetness.
Nor were these the only times when the promise was
fulfilled, " No weapon that is formed against thee shall
prosper."

" Now, before these things happened," he writes, " I was
in great exercise of mind, notwithstanding which I was
willingly given up to serve the Lord. ... I was brought
very low until, at a meeting in my house, it pleased the
Lord in mercy mightily to break in upon me, greatly tender-

JOHN GRATTON.

263

ing my spirit to the gladding of my soul. Thanksgivings
be to Him who supported and bore me up in these days of
great tribulation."

The Friends were now suffering severely from fines
and imprisonments, but in the midst of these troublous
times he went to the Yearly Meeting in London, and
was greatly cheered by the sight of " those brave meet-
ings." On his homeward journey he spent a night at
Longclawson, and was asked by the Friends living there
to have a meeting with them. Although a strong im-
pression rested on his mind that this would bring him
into danger and difficulty, he did not decline, whilst
warning his friends that they might be fined on his
account; but their answer was, " If thou wilt venture, we
will." The meeting was interrupted ; the hearers were
fined five shillings each, and the preacher twenty pounds ;
a distraint was made on his goods for this sum, but as
no one would buy them, they were given him again
Alluding to this event, he says, " Oh ! the Lord's
mercies were great to me. ... So that sometimes I have
been ready to say that, if I had had a houseful of goods
to lose, I could freely part with it for the sake of truth."

When at Wirksworth Market on business, he was
greatly grieved at the fearful oaths he heard, and saw
that, if faithfully following the path of duty, it would
be his place to address the people from the market
cross ; but being almost afraid that they might " pull
him to pieces," he mounted his horse and rode home.
Deep distress followed, but the next time he went to
Wirksworth the call to warn the people was heard
again. Without waiting " to consult any more " it was
obeyed ; the hearers wept aloud, none " had power to

264

JOHN GRATTON.

hurt " him, and one Justice Loe, who would have im-
prisoned him, arrived too late. Amidst much opposi-
tion the meetings became greater and greater, and John
Gratton felt that he must be " abroad " as much as
might be. His family he says grew " bigger and bigger,
and he did not neglect his trade, for his care was great
to owe no man anything ; and the Lord blessed him
every way." Once he was cited to the Bishop's Court,
where a dignitary of the Church was called on to
admonish him. Describing this, he writes : —

" Seeing nothing came hut, ' I admonish, I admonish, I
admonish thee,' three times, to make way for their wicked
court to go on to persecute me and get money, said I to him,
' Prithee, whether dost thou admonish me, for the good of
my soul, or the love of my money 1 ' Said the registrar, ' I
ior the love of thy money, and he for the good of thy soul.'
"With that the people made a noise with laughing, for they
saw it was money more than the good of souls that they
aimed at. A brave convincement there was in those days.
. . . Also in many other places where the Lord ordered me
and went with me, and by His own right arm did unutter-
able things ; many were convinced, yea, hundreds, I believe,
and came to meetings, at which the devil was angry, and I
was cast into prison."

Whilst still away from home a sense had come over
him of suffering in store, so deep that he told one of
his friends that he could not see to the bottom of it.
Nor was it needful that he should in anticipation ; wide
as were the waters which lay before him, he had not to
pass through them alone ; the Everlasting arms were
underneath, and he knew it. Soon he was arrested and
sent to Derby Gaol ; his bade his wife rather rejoice
than weep that they were accounted worthy thus to
suffer, and when she saw his cheerfulness, with a true

JOHN GRATTON.

265

woman's heart she bravely bore the trial. Having
refused to pay the gaoler for leave to remain in his
house, John Gratton was still determined to have " a
free prison " which the law allowed, though many
Friends had not long before been confined in a dun-
geon amongst thieves, whilst hardly provided with
clean straw. Although his wife was very dangerously
ill, he was not given leave to go to her.

" So," he says, " I gave up wife and children and all I had
into the Lord's hand, and was contented, saying in my heart
after this manner: ' Life or death, poverty or riches, come
what will come, the will of the Lord be done.' But it
pleased the Lord that my wife mended again ; and oh ! how
easy I was after I had given up all ; and ,my gaol was made
a pleasant place to me, for the Lord's mercy was with me,
so that I even sang a living song of praise. . . . Towards
the spring, my eldest son, John, died ; I obtained liberty to
go to him, but he died that night after he had seen me.
Some of his last words were, that he hoped we should meet
where they (meaning bad men) should not part us any more.
And the day after he was buried I left my wife and went to
prison again."

During his captivity he sometimes addressed the
people below from the window, and his faithful words
sank deeply into the hearts of some young men. The
word of God, as he remarks, was not bound ; many
persons came to the prison, and good meetings were held
there. For five years and a half his imprisonment
lasted, but occasional leave of absence was granted him.
Throughout this time his wife carried on their business.
On his release, after staying at home for a while, he
travelled through most parts of the United Kingdom.
The visit to Scotland seems to have been especially
satisfactory and comforting to him ; after coming home

266

JOHN GRATTON.

he sent an epistle to the Friends there, in which he
writes : —

" I tenderly salute you with pure love unfeigned, which
springs from the endearing Fountain thereof. . . . Oh, the
goodness of God to us is undeclarable ! and we see as much
need as ever to keep looking unto Him for help every
moment, for all our time is a time of need, and if the Lord
were not with us we could not bear up against the enemy."

In the year 1707 his faithful wife died. Of her ill-
ness their daughter thus writes : —

" I being pretty much taken up in attending her, she
would often say, 1 Dost thou take care of thy father 1 ' For
as their love and sympathy had been great in all times of
trial of what sort soever, so it continued to the last. . . .
My dear father was then very weakly, and the loss of my
dear mother was a near trial and exercise to him, she having
been, as he himself said, a sweet help to him in the Lord.
He was deeply bowed in mind and spirit for the loss of her,
yet freely gave her up to the Lord. Few who saw him
thought he would continue long after her. But it pleased
the Lord to raise him up in some measure. . . . The last
winter he sensibly decayed. . . . Being attended with sore
sickness and pain, he said, ' Lord, I pray thee give me ease
if it be Thy holy will, and remove me soon out of this body.
... It is through Jesus Christ our advocate who is gone
before us that we are enabled to come to Thee.' . . . He
departed this life in the sixty-ninth year of his age, on First
Month 9th, 1711-12, and is, I hope, at rest with the Lord,
'where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are
at rest.' He was buried beside my dear mother."

Such was the life and such the death of this valiant
servant of the Lord. May we not add, concerning his
chequered life, that, as recorded of the patriarch Joseph,
" the archers sorely grieved him, and shot at him, and
hated him ; but his bow abode in strength, and the arms
of his hands were made strong by the hands of the
mighty God of Jacob " !

JAME£ DICKEN£0)M A]ND HIg
FF(IEND£.

" Hath the Lord spoken unto thee apart,
A sudden light out-flashing from His word,
A hope snatched from thee, or a boon confer'd ?
Or, in thy converse with a kindred heart,
Hast thou not felt the presence of a third,
An unseen influence, and thy spirit stirr'd ?

" That which thou nearest in the secret place
That which thou learnest in the silent hour,
Is not for thee alone ; ascend thy tower,
And tell thy message in the open face
Of men and day ; e'en as a summer shower,
Thy words shall fall with fertilising power."

R. H. Cooke

269

JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FEIENDS.

" The business we were sent about was to labour to turn people's
minds from darkness to this true light (Christ — John i. 9), and
from Satan's power to the power of God ; that people might come
to receive remission of sins, by faith in Christ Jesus." — James
Dickenson.

" Oh that I had a cave in the ground, that I might
mourn out my days, that in the end I might find peace
with Thee ! " was often James Dickenson's cry to the
Lord in his early youth. For, although

" His Soul was for the truth inquiring,
For God, and nothing less,"

he had not yet learnt for himself that " Christ suffered
for sins, the just for the unjust, that He might bring
us to God."

He was born in 1659, at Lowmoor, in Cumberland,
and even as a little child felt at times a secret joy in
drawing near to God with a broken and contrite heart.
His father and mother, who had become Friends, rejoiced
over these evidences of the work of the Holy Spirit in
the heart of their little son. They knew the blessedness
of a holy life themselves, and longed that their children
should follow them in the paths of peace. Although
James Dickenson was only seven years of age when he
lost his mother, and but three years older when his
father died, their loving counsel and the tearful earnest-
ness of their appeals were clearly remembered by him.
He confesses, however, that for a time he disregarded

270 JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

his father's advice, and did not give heed to the " still,
small voice " of Christ.

" Yet the Lord," he writes, " by His power did many
times reach my heart, and by the Spirit of His dear Son,
the Lord J esus Christ, reproved me for my vain conversation ;
many times calling me to return unto Him from whom I bad
gone astray. But I, not minding to turn, went on in rebellion
against His blessed Spirit, and ran into wildness and vanity ;
until the Lord, in His mercy, did visit my soul by His
righteous judgments. Being warned to repent and turn to
the Lord, a godly sorrow was begun, which I experienced
to lead to true repentance. Then my familiars became my
enemies, and I was a taunt and a by- word to them, yet still
as I loved the Lord in the way of His judgments and waited
upon Him, I found Him give victory. ... In those deep
afflictions and exercises the Lord was very near, so that my
soul began to delight to wait upon Him in the way of His
judgment. I felt the love of God to increase in my soul,
which greatly affected me ; and a hunger was increased in
my heart after the enjoyment of the Lord's power and the
operation of it, whether it was in mercy or judgment ; so I
knew my faith to be increased in the sufficiency of the
power of God, and the Lord did often overshadow me with
His love : and a sight of glorious things I had at that time."

But still sorrow and conflict were often his portion ;
for he was, as he says, " unskilful and not grown in
strength to resist the evil one." Yet a vision which
he had about this time was verified in his actual
experience. He thought that he saw a sheep feeding
in a green pasture by a pleasant river-side. A wicked
man, however, envying its happiness, tried to drown it
in the river ; when it was at the point of sinking the
good shepherd came with availing aid, and after bring-
ing back the rescued sheep to the quiet meadow, he
strove with the cruel adversary and, prevailing, smote
him and cast him into the river, the strong current of

JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

271

which carried him away. " And when I had almost
lost the hope of deliverance," James Dickenson says,
" then the Lord appeared by His mighty power, and
rebuked the enemy, and delivered my soul from him
that was too strong for me. He drew me out of the
troubled waters, and brought my mind into true still-
ness, and to the proper place of right waiting upon
Him, where I found my strength to be renewed. And
the overshadowing of His power I often felt to my
great comfort, so that I was made to admire His
goodness."

At the age of eighteen James Dickenson first spoke
in meetings. He had been unwilling to obey his
Saviour's intimations on this subject, seeing, as he
says, " the work to be very weighty, and looking out
at my own weakness ; " but his loving Lord filled his
soul with all needful strength for this service, and after-
wards his heart was humbled by the abundance of peace
which flowed into it. In the midst of his meditations
one morning these words reached his spiritual ear :
" Be bold and courageous for My name's sake, and I
will raise thee up." They were, he says, as a fire in
his bones ; for he felt that God was calling him to go
to the meeting of the Presbyterians at Talentire.

Thither, accordingly, he went, and found that the
Lord was with him and showed him what he had to
do ; yet it was with much fear that he entered the room
where they were assembled. Nor were his apprehen-
sions groundless, for no sooner was the presence of a
Friend discovered than there were cries of " Put him
forth ! " from some of the company. But though
roughly turned out, he stood at a window, and there

272 JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

delivered the message with which he was commissioned.
" This is the day of the visitation and the revelation of
the power and Spirit of Christ in your hearts ; therefore
resist it not ; for, if you do, it will rise up in judgment
against you." This so aroused the wrath of his hearers
that they threw him down and dragged his head over
the stones ; but this treatment did not trouble him
much, apparently, for he writes of " great peace, the
over-shadowing of the love of God," and of his soul
being filled with praise.

A somewhat similar visit was paid to the Baptists
at Broughton, when a deep impression was made on
the hearts of several who, ere long, became Friends ;
John Ribton, who afterwards became a minister, being-
one of the number.

When about twenty-one, James Dickenson visited
the Friends residing in the neighbouring counties.
Persecution was raging at this time, and he was truly
grateful for the protection mercifully granted him
during his journey ; for no informer came to any of the
meetings which he held. Two years later he paid a
religious visit to Ireland. In Wexford he met with
Thomas Wilson, who was a few years older than
himself, and also came from Cumberland. He had
been travelling as a minister ; but, for some time before
James Dickenson's arrival, having felt the restraining
influence of the Holy Spirit for a season, he had
employed himself in harvest-work instead of continuing
his journey. Now he joined James Dickenson, and
the rich blessing of God rested on them and their
united labours. " So," writes Thomas Wilson, " I saw
it was good to wait the Lord's time in all things." He

JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FKIENDS.

273

was an exceedingly powerful minister : it was said of
him that " the heavenly love and life his heart was
filled with, streamed forth to the comfort of many ; for
he was a cloud the Lord often filled and caused to be
emptied, to the refreshing of His heritage.1' And James
Dickenson in after years wrote : " I know there was
not anything more delightful to my dear companion
than to be under the influence of God's Holy Spirit
wherewith he was often filled, not only for his own
good, but the good of others; and though he had a
large gift beyond many, yet was glad of the least child
who spake from the motion of God's Spirit." *

In the following year, after visiting Scotland, James
Dickenson held some meetings in the North of England,
and at Kendal again met with Thomas Wilson. Here
a remarkable meeting took place : some persons who
were sent to disperse the congregation dragged the
two ministers out of the meeting-house, but after a
while allowed them to re-enter it, and we read that
" the holy power of the Lord came mightily over the
hearts of Friends." Even their rough opposers were

* In the latter part of his life Thomas Wilson was one day pre-
sent at a very large meeting in London. Two gentlemen of high
rank were of the company, and listened with attentive interest to
the address of another minister. But when Thomas Wilson, who
was of very unimposing appearance, rose up to speak, one of these
gentlemen said to his companion : — " Come, my lord, let us go ; for
what can this old fool say ? " " Nay," was the reply, " let us stay,
for this is Jeremiah the prophet ; let us hear him." With such
heavenly power were Thomas Wilson's words accompanied that the
soul of one of his scoffing hearers was affected in a very striking
manner. He at first tried to hide his freely-flowing tears ; but,
when the preacher had resumed his seat, he stood up and expressed
his hope that he might be forgiven by him, and by the Almighty " for
despising the greatest of His instruments under heaven, or in His
creation."

T

274 JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

awed by it, and seemed unable to carry out their
intention of again forcing James Dickenson out of the
house when he knelt in prayer. After spending some
time at home engaged at his trade, of fellmonger (a
dealer in hides), he went to Wales in company with
Thomas Wilson. They travelled in the depth of
winter, and found the Friends whom they visited
suffering exceedingly from persecution; yet James
Dickenson says : " All things were made pleasant unto
us in the love of God." A justice of the peace and an
informer came to the meeting of Haverfordwest ; but
Thomas Wilson's ministry was so manifestly prompted
by the Holy Spirit that the justice said, — "If these
be the Quakers I never heard the like. Let them
alone."

From Holyhead Dickenson went to Ireland, and the
vessel in which he sailed was wonderfully preserved
from shipwreck on the bar of Dublin in a tremendous
storm. He felt himself commissioned to warn the
Friends of that country that a time of trial was ap-
proaching which none would have strength to endure
but " those that should be settled upon the rock, Christ
Jesus, and gathered under His peaceable government ;
those would know a dwelling safely and a being quiet
from fear of evil." This prediction was strikingly ful-
filled by the war which broke out in Ireland at the
time of the Revolution of 1688. During James Dicken-
son's first visit to that nation, also, a strong impression
had rested on his mind of the sufferings in store for its
inhabitants, whom he " beheld as if they were encom-
passed with weapons of war.''

During a visit to the south of England, he attended a

JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS. 275

meeting at Bristol, consisting chiefly of women and
children whose male relatives were in prison; it was
held in the yard, as the Friends were not allowed to
enter their meeting-house ; but the shadow of God's
wing was their canopy. " As my eye was kept single,"
he writes, " every day waiting for the motion of the
Word of Life, I found the Lord to fit and qualify me
for every day's service." At Crediton, in Devon, he
met with very rough treatment, but holy courage was
given him for the performance of his work. God gave
an abundant increase, and a meeting was afterwards
established in that town.

Whilst holding a meeting in this neighbourhood, he
was seized by a constable and taken before a justice of
the peace, who, however, spoke kindly to him, and with
his family appeared to be much affected with what
James Dickenson was constrained to say to them
Then he set him at liberty, desiring that God might go
with him wherever he went. A meeting which he had
in the Isle of Portland was held out of doors, and
whilst he was engaged in prayer a constable dragged
him from his knees, with the intention of casting him
into a deep pool of water, but was prevented from
doing so by the people who were present. But whilst
he was preaching he forced him out of the assembly,
flung him on the stones, beat him on the breast, and
then ordered some drunken men to drag him alon" the

O O

ground with his head against the stones, so that the
blood flowed freely ; again the constable struck him re-
peatedly, and many people wept, thinking that such
treatment would surely cost him his life. " But,"
writes J ames Dickenson, " the Lord made it very easy

276 JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

to me by the sweetness of His love, with which my
heart was filled to the inhabitants of the island : so that
I heartily desired the Lord would forgive those that
had done me most harm ! " No marvel that he adds,
" Many hearts were reached that day by the power of
God." Well has it been said — " Patience, meekness,
self-abnegation, these are the miracles of the New
Covenant."

When Dickenson re-visited Portland seven years
later, he held a meeting on the same spot, and, in spite
of menaces, was enabled powerfully to declare the way
of salvation to its inhabitants. Whilst he was speaking,
a man came to him with a drawn sword in his hand,
but had no power to hurt him. Not long after his first
visit to Portland, he attended the London Yearly
Meeting, which he thus describes : — " The glory of the
Lord was richly manifested amongst us, and opened our
hearts unto Him and one unto another. Many living
testimonies were borne to His great name ; so that I
may say it was like the time of Pentecost, for we were
met with one accord, and our hearts were truly tendered
in the love of God."

When, not long after, James Dickenson visited
Holland with a Friend named Peter Fearon, the ship
in which they sailed was pursued by a Turkish pirate
vessel. They had nearly reached their destination, but
the captain made for a point of land that was in sight,
saying that he would rather run any risk of shipwreck
than suffer the vessel to fall into the hands of the Turks.
James Dickenson, who, on leaving Harwich, had had a
presentiment of peril awaiting them on the Dutch coast,
now felt, whilst his heart was uplifted to God, that He

JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

277

would save them from their dangerous enemies ; accord-
ingly he begged the captain to alter his hazardous course
and steer for the harbour, which, after much entreaty,
he did ; the pirates sailed in another direction, and the
English vessel safely entered the port of Brill. Before
leaving home, James Dickenson had felt especially
attracted to Horn, although apparently he knew
nothing about its inhabitants. It therefore gave him
pleasure when the interpreter told him of a people
dwelling there, who desired a more perfect knowledge
of the way of God. So, after many blessed seasons
during the Yearly Meeting at Amsterdam, a remarkable
meeting was held at Horn, when several hearts were
opened to receive the message of the strange minister.

After visiting Friesland, etc., they returned safely to
England, notwithstanding a very dangerous storm.
" The Lord," writes James Dickenson, " is large in His
love, and of great kindness to them that are truly given
up to follow Him."

During the Bevolution of 1688,. James Dickenson, in
company with another Friend, held meetings in many
parts of England, striving to turn the hearts of the
people to the Prince of Peace. Afterwards he again
went to the western counties, having Thomas Wilson
for his fellow-labourer. The latter writes, " We had a
precious journey. Meetings were now very large ;
many people came in to seek after the Lord's truth,
and much desired to hear the word, the strong wind of
persecution being ceased, so that there was a great
calm. We had glorious meetings : the Lord's tendering,
heart-melting power, greatly breaking through them."

Whilst engaged in holding meetings in Scotland

278 JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

in 1690, James Dickenson was joined by Robert
Barclay, the Author of " The Apology," whom he
afterwards visited at his residence at Ury, where a
General Meeting was held. Just at this time Robert
Barclay became ill of a violent fever, which soon
terminated his life. As James Dickenson sat by his
bedside, they felt their hearts to be closely drawn to-
gether in a powerful sense of the presence of their Lord;
and Robert Barclay spoke with tears of his love to all
faithful brethren in England, especially mentioning
George Fox. But James Dickenson was probably un-
able to deliver this message of love, as soon after his
return from Scotland he heard of George Fox's death.
These tidings gave him deep sorrow, yet he writes :
" When I turned my mind to the Lord, I found he had
done the work of his day and was gone to rest ; and we
must be content : and they would be happy that fol-
lowed his footsteps."

In the spring of 1691 James Dickenson and Thomas
Wilson sailed for America, where each felt himself
called to labour ; the former was then about thirty-two
years of age. Before leaving England they attended the
Yearly Meeting, and met with much loving sympathy.
It was a perilous time for voyaging in consecpience of
war with France, and it was rumoured that the French
Fleet lay some thirty leagues from the Land's End.
Very fervent were the prayers of the young ministers,
that if it were in accordance with God's will, no evil
might betide them : and strong faith was given them
to commit themselves to His keeping. Whilst still in
London Thomas Wilson joyfully told his friend that the
Lord had made it plain to him that they should be

JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS. 279

preserved from harm. James Dickenson's reply was
that God had shown him that the French Fleet would
almost encompass them, but that He would send a
great mist and darkness between them and their
enemies, in which they should be able to make their
escape. This was literally the case, which was, says
Thomas "Wilson, " cause of great gladness to me, who
had been under a deep travail of spirit with fasting
and prayer." To all on board this deliverance appeared
to be a miracvdous one, and in the time of trouble the
two Friends were wonderfully upheld by an unusually
clear consciousness of " the Lord's living presence with
them." On the following Sunday a remarkable meeting
was held on the quarter-deck.

When drawing near Barbadoes a man-of-war, sup-
posed by the English captain to be a French privateer,
bore down upon his vessel, and he made preparations
for fighting her. When assigning posts to those on
board, he said to the Friends : " As for you I know
it is contrary to your principles to fight ; Lord forbid
I should compel any man contrary to his conscience !
Take your quarters with the doctor." James Dickenson
observing that the other passengers were very angry at
this, and wishing to show that the conduct of his com-
panion and himself was influenced by conscience and
not by cowardice, told the captain that, since he kindly
gave them leave to choose their places, they would stay
on the quarter-deck with him. This announcement
caused much astonishment to those who had been say-
ing that the Quakers deserved to be shot, and effectually
silenced them. The alarm proved to be a false one.

James Dickenson and his friend spent more than

280 JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

two months in Barbadoes, undaunted by a very infec-
tious malady, from which some hundreds had already
died. The meetings were thronged by both the white
and black inhabitants, who were deeply affected as
the ministers, with hearts filled with the love of God,
proclaimed the Gospel amongst them. At that which
was first held, the negroes, with tears flowing freely
down their faces, heard the truths which were declared
in silent amazement. The voyage thence to New York
was of a month's duration, and the captain was much
afraid lest they should perish in a great storm which
lasted for ten days ; but Thomas Wilson told him not
to fear, for — as he says — he saw that the ship would
not be lost. It was the depth of winter by the time
the travellers reached Pennsylvania, yet, as the meeting-
houses were too small to hold the numbers who flocked
to them, the meetings were held out of doors, sometimes
in deep snow. Then they pursued their journey through
woods and wildernesses, and over most dangerously
frozen rivers, to Maryland.

Whilst crossing Chesapeake Bay a thick fog came on,
<uid, the boat being cast on an island, they spent the
winter night lying on the ground. So great were the
floods in Carolina that it was unsafe to travel on horse-
back ; they therefore waded barefoot through the
swamps, giving but little heed to the wolves and other
wild animals which infested this district. Through all
hardships they were upheld by the right hand of Him
whose they were and whom they served. A warm
welcome was given them by Friends and others, for a
visit from a strange minister was a rare event, and
blessed meetings were held.

JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS. 281

At Black Creek, whilst Dickenson was preaching, a
sheriff, who came with some officers to disperse the
congregation, asked him from whom he had his commis-
sion. He replied, "From the great God unto whom
thou and I must give an account." When the intruders
had left, a " heavenly meeting " was held ; several of
those present afterwards became Friends, and soon a
meeting-house was built, and a meeting established.
When returning through the wilderness to Maryland,
on the first night of their journey, they slept in the
woods, kindling a fire as a safeguard from the cold and
from the wild beasts. While eating their bread and
cheese in the twilight, Thomas Wilson found that his
horse had discovered some water, and he unconsciously
gives a glimpse of his peaceful state of mind when he
says, " I think I never drank any wine more sweet and
pleasant to me than that water was." Another night
they spent in the house of a poor man who could not
offer them a bed, but entertained them as they sat by
his fire with an account of George Fox and John
Burnyeat's visit to that part of the country.

At the Yearly Meeting at Salem, in Jersey, they met
with a great number of Friends. " We had many
glorious meetings, writes James Dickenson, " and were
livingly open to proclaim the everlasting Gospel and
day of God's love." They next went to Philadelphia,
where George Keith and his false doctrine had been
causing great trouble. Here they were wonderfully
helped in their arduous labours. It was not until the
early part of 1693 that they returned to England,
having previously paid a second visit to Barbadoes.
They were more than once exposed to much danger on

282 JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

the voyage thence from Boston. During a tornado,
which laid the vessel on one side like a log of wood,
they were kept in such perfect peace, that all fear of
death was taken away, and their hearts were filled with
joy from the wells of salvation. The captain of the
vessel, having an aversion to Friends, said that if she
were taken by the French, it would be because there
were Quakers on board. As they drew near Barbadoes
a very thick dark mist came on, by means of which
they were preserved from a French privateer, and after-
wards landed safely at Bridgetown. The captain did
not find that he fared better when he had parted with
his burdensome passengers ; for, on her return voyage,
whilst still in sight of the island, the vessel was captured
by the enemy and taken to Martinico.

When the Friends were ready to embark from Nevis,
the Governor refused to allow them to leave the island,
saying they were spies ; but when they showed him
" the broad seal " of their passport he forthwith altered
his tone. Almost as soon as they set foot on deck such
a remarkable sense of God's presence was granted them
as to cause them to shed tears of joy. Several epistles
were written by Wilson and Dickenson to Friends in
different parts of America, from which the following
extracts are taken : —

" Dear Friends, Truth is the same that ever it was, and
the power of it as prevailing as ever ; and where it is kept
to and dwelt in, hath the same effect as ever, as many of you
are witnesses who keep your habitation therein, with whom
our souls are bound up in God's everlasting covenant of
light ; in which as we walk we have the fellowship one with
another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us
from all unrighteousness. . . . What gifts soever you have

JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

283

received, be careful that you be improving them to the
honour of the Giver, as those who know an account must be
given unto Him. . . . He is daily opening the Divine
mysteries of His Kingdom to them who are kept humble
and low before Him ; who wait for counsel from the Lord
every day, and to feel the assistance of His Spirit, and dare
not move until the Lord go before and draw them forward."

In another epistle the following remarks are found: —

" May you be kept in God's holy covenant of peace, the
sweetness whereof none know, as it is, but those who dwell
in it, and keep to the conduct of the power that gathered
them."

Again we read : —

" All give up your hearts to God to be kept by His power
in fellowship with Him ; then will your fellowship be sweet
one with another ; so will you know all things that offend to
be cast out of the kingdom, and you will be tender one over
another, the strong lending a hand to help the weak ; and
be of Moses' mind, who wished that all the people were
prophets. . . . All your safety is and will be to keep inward
to the Lord, that He may be your teacher, your own spirits
being silenced : waiting with delight to hear what He speaks.
Then if He be pleased to open any of your mouths for the
edification one of another, it will be in His power and
wisdom from above. ... If you keep those longing desires
that are already raised in you, ye shall know ' the sincere milk
of the word, that you may grow thereby ' from one degree of
grace unto another, untd you become perfect men in Christ
Jesus. . . . As all keep low in their respective gifts, waiting
to know the assistance of God's Spirit— still being nothing
without it — you will feel the Lord to work all your works
both in you and for you, and give power to answer what
He requires of you ; and then His love will be increased
unto you, and you will abide in favour with Him."

A few weeks after James Dickenson's marriage, which
took place in 1694, he felt that God had commissioned

284 JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

him with a message of warning to the inhabitants of
London. "When he spoke on this subject to his wife she
urged him to do his Lord's bidding, saying that she only
desired to enjoy what she enjoyed, in God's favour.
Some time after this service had been performed, he told
her that his Divine Master was again calling him to
labour amongst the Friends in America. '•' Mind thy
freedom in the Lord," was her reply, " and let no worldly
affairs hinder thee ; but answer His requirings."' James
Dickenson admits that this matter brought " deep exer-
cise " upon his spirit, yet so full was the sense afforded
him of " God's love to His heritage and people the world
over," that he was quite willing to leave all and under-
take this arduous work for Him. His friend, Peter
Fearon, we read, accompanied him " in pure love " to
London, and they held meetings in several places. Their
hearts were closely bound together, aud their parting
was a very touching one ; they separated at TVoburn,
where a meeting had been held, and James Dickenson
went back to London alone. " Before I had travelled
half a mile," he writes, " the Lord's power overshadowed
my soul, by which my heart was broken and filled with
joy and gladness, which made up all my wants."

It was with similar feelings that he began his voyage ;
two other Friends, also bound for America, were on
board the vessel : the preceding Sunday two meetings
had been held at Piochester, at one of which a young
man engaged in prayer for the first time in public. " I
was glad," says James Dickenson, " to see the Lord at
work in the hearts of babes to perfect His own praise."
The ship was delayed for several weeks in the Downs
as the wind was unfavourable, and during this time

JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS. 285

meetings were frequently held on board. James Dicken-
son also gladly availed himself of an opportunity to re-
visit Canterbury, where a deep impression had been
previously made by his ministry. Before leaving this
city he received a call from a clergyman who had been
at one of the meetings, and wished to have some con-
versation with him. He remarked that he had himself
no immediate impulse to preach. " If," answered James
Dickenson, " I had no immediate impulse of the Spirit to
preach the Gospel, I would never have left my wife and
family to do it : but there was a necessity laid upon
me. Every true minister of Christ knows a necessity
so to do." As they parted the clergyman admitted that
this was the truth.

About this time there was a rumour that England
would be invaded by the French, which caused a strict
embargo to be laid on all shipping, and for five months
the voyage was delayed. James Dickenson did not feel
it right to return home, but patiently waited the Lord's
time, and was upheld by Him in the midst of his trials.
He often went on shore to hold meetings. At Deal he
was interested in a young clergyman whom he met with
on the beach, and who had that evening attended a
meeting held by Thomas Eudd and himself. He was
much depressed, and was anxious to know more about
the principles of Friends, concerning whom he had
been greatly misinformed. James Dickenson says that
his heart was lovingly opened to give him the informa-
tion he desired, for he felt that God's love abounded
towards him, and their conversation was prolonged to a
late hour. Some meetings held in London are thus
described by James Dickenson —

286 JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

" We had a very heavenly time, and found the power of
the Lord at work in the hearts of several young people.
Many mouths were opened to declare the Truth ; for which
I was glad, and to see the Lord's work to prosper. The day
hefore we set sail we had a public meeting on hoard the ship
we went in : many people came to it out of the country, and
the Lord by His power broke in wonderfully amongst us.
I was livingly open to proclaim the word of life, and many
hearts were tendered. Then I had a sight that the time of
our departure was near, and that we should get on our long-
desired journey."

When the vessel was lying off Cowes he wrote a
brief epistle to the Yearly Meeting which was about to
be held. " I entreat you all, keep to the Lord's eternal
power and wisdom in the exercise of all your gifts in
this Yearly Meeting, that Christ, your heavenly Head,
may rule and speak through all, and carry on that
glorious work which He hath begun." Before losing
sight of the shores of England James Dickenson was
cheered by the assurance, graciously afforded him, that
he should be engaged in his Lord's service that day
eight weeks in America. And so it was, though many
other vessels of the fleet did not arrive until more than
three weeks later, having encountered a violent storm.
Many of the meetings were attended by large numbers.
James Dickenson writes : " We declared, in all plain-
ness, that a profession of the truth would stand them
in no stead except they lived in the life thereof, and
waited to feel the power of Christ working in them to
the changing of their hearts ; and knew Him to be a
mediator and interceder for them to the Father."

On one occasion James Dickenson had an interesting
conversation with an Indian who could speak English,
and who came to the house of the Friend with whom

JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS. 287

he was staying ; he said that he did not know God, yet
when asked whether, after he had told a lie, sworn, or
done wrong to anyone, he did not feel something which
showed him that he ought not to do so, he laid his hand
with deep seriousness on his breast, and said, " Yes, I
know it very well." After James Dickenson had made
some remarks to him on this subject, the Indian asked
what made Englishmen swear when they knew that
God was near ; and said that in his own language there
were no words for swearing.

Several Meetings in Chester County were visited by
James Dickenson, where he met with many persons who
had left the Society of Friends and became followers
of George Keith. " I was enabled," he says, " to vindi-
cate our ancient Testimony concerning our faith in
Jesus Christ ; declaring to them that we believed in
Him as being the only begotten Son of God ; who in
the fulness of time took flesh, became perfect man
according to the flesh ; descended and came of the seed
of Abraham and David, but was miraculously conceived
by the Holy Ghost and born of the Virgin Mary ; yet
powerfully owned to be the Son of God according to
the spirit of sanctification by the resurrection from the
dead. And that as man, Christ died for our sins, rose
again, and was received up into glory in the heavens,
having fulfilled the law and the prophets, and put an
end to the first priesthood, is a priest for ever, not after
the order of Aaron, but of Melchisedec ; and ever lives
to make intercession to His Father, not for our sins
only, but for the sins of the whole world." This he
spoke of as being the faith of the Friends the world
over.

288

JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

The Yearly Meeting at Burlington, which he after-
wards attended, was a very blessed one, notwithstanding
the attempts at disturbance made by the Separatists.
Whilst James Dickenson was preaching they cried out
that the Light he spoke of was nothing but an idol and
a frozen light. To which he replied that it was no
other but Christ Jesus, the true light which lighteth
every man that cometh into the world.* Among many
other very satisfactory meetings, those held on Long
Island may be mentioned. Several who attended them
were convinced of the truth of the doctrines which they
heard ; and a justice of the peace and a captain in the
army gave up their commissions because they could no
longer take an oath, or fight. The last meeting in
Pennsylvania was held at Concord, and was remarkably
blessed by the Lord.

During this tarriance in America, as in the previous
visit, many hardships were undergone by James
Dickenson, and the homeward voyage was an adven-
turous one ; but his heart was filled with gratitude
to God for His protection from inward and outward
danger, and with a stronger conviction than ever that
" He is worthy to be followed and obeyed in all His
requirings."

A year or two after his return he wrote an epistle
to the Friends in America, a few extracts from which
follow : —

* " Believing in Christ's inward and spiritual appearance does not
in the least lessen or depreciate the value of the redeeming act of
universal love., the Propitiatory Sacrifice of the dear Son of God
without the gates of Jerusalem, and His there bearing our sins in
His own body on the tree. On the contrary it greatly enhances the
value thereof." — Edio. Alexander.

JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

289

" My spirit and life are often with you in my secret retire-
ment unto the Lord. . . . His hand is full of blessings to be
poured down upon you if you give Him not occasion to
withhold them from ym by letting your minds wander from
Him. . . . Stir up one another to love and good works;
and that those whom God hath trusted with heavenly gifts
may all improve them to His glory. And stir up one another
to visit remote parts that want help, as Virginia, Carolina,
New England, Barbadoes, Jamaica, etc., and let all be done in
the love of God. So will He bless you with spiritual bless-
ings in His Son Jesus Christ ; in whom I dearly salute you
all, letting you know I am well every way."

Early in 1699 Dickenson again visited Scotland, hav-
ing for his companion Jonathan Burnyeat, a child not
much more than twelve years old; he naturally felt much
concern on behalf of his little friend, who— he need scarcely
have told us — had not travelled as a minister before.
But Jonathan Burnyeat seems to have been — in almost
the literal sense of the word — one of the babes to whom
the Lord of heaven and earth sees fit to reveal those
things which are hidden from the wise and prudent ;
for James Dickenson says, " My companion was deeply
opened into the mysteries of God's kingdom, and grew
in his gift, so as to give counsel to young and old. . . .
The Lord was kind to us, and bore up our spirits in all
our exercises. "We had many precious meetings, and
were deeply bowed under a sense of the Lord's favour to
us. Probably James Dickenson often recalled the time
when his young companion's father, John Burnyeat,
had been a tender and sympathising counsellor to him-
self. Five years later they again travelled together,
" in sweet brotherly love," through Yorkshire and
Lincolnshire ; and not long afterwards united in a
religious visit to Ireland. And before Jonathan Burn-

u

290

JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

yeat's early death he was James Dickenson's associate
on a few shorter journeys,

In 1700 James Dickenson suffered from a dangerous
illness. After alluding to God's gracious dealings with
Him by " His secret hand," during this time of trial, he
adds : " My eye was unto the Lord Jesus, in whom my
justification remained, and I found peace. . . . The
sense of it at that time was very comfortable, and
engaged me to be given up to follow Him faithfully
unto the end." In the summer of the following year he
found that the Lord had further work for him in Scot-
land, where he met with Samuel Bownas and another
young Friend, who were also engaged in holding meet-
ings, and for a short time thev all travelled together.
James Dickenson's affectionate counsel was very help-
ful to his young and inexperienced associates, who had
many doubts and fears with regard to the right accom-
plishment of their mission. Samuel Bownas was exceed-
ingly comforted when James Dickenson told them how
poor and weak he often felt. At Dumfries he said to
them : " Lads, I find a concern to go into the streets ;
will you go with me ? " The people were very quiet
whilst James Dickenson — as Samuel Bownas says —
" lifted up his voice like a trumpet amongst them,"
most earnestly warning them to repent and turn to the

Lord.

One of Dickenson's twelve visits to Ireland followed
this journey in Scotland. He gives no details of his
numerous Gospel labours and travels from 1704 to 1713.
The peace which was granted him as he willingly
obeyed the voice of the Good Shepherd was a continual
encouragement to perseverance in following Him. And

JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

291

he says that his wife and himself truly found that
godliness is profitable unto all things.

" We were encouraged," he writes, " to follow the Lord
fully, and keep to His eternal power that had prevailed
over us ; and the more our eyes were kept to Him, the greater
necessity we found of the help of His Holy Spirit to keep us
in our way heavenwards, knowing that without Him we
could do nothing, and seeing our infirmities to be great, we
were made to magnify that arm which is strong, and as near
to help His people as ever. Those who are alive to God
know it. . . . He is still faithful in fulfilling His promises,
and whatever they ask in His name He gives them ; such are
bound in duty to return to Him thanksgiving and glory."

During one of James Dickenson's Scottish missions
he met with a remarkable adventure. He was travelling
with another Friend named Jane Fearon (the wife of
his friend Peter Fearon), when on a very rough and
rainy day, as evening drew on, he observed a lonely
roadside public-house, where, as they were wet and
weary, they though that it would be best to spend the
night. Their Gaelic guide, as well as his imperfect
English would allow him, tried to dissuade them from
doing this, and when he found that he could not induce
them to go on to another halting-place, refused to remain
with them. They had a civil and attentive reception
from the people of the house, but notwithstanding this
the minds of the travellers were soon disturbed by ter-
rible fears, which they did not at once communicate
to each other. Jane Fearon's courage still further failed
her when she heard one of the men say, " They have
good horses and bags," and another reply, " Aye, and
good clothes ! " As soon as James Dickenson and her-
self were alone together, she burst into tears, and
exclaimed: "I lear these people have a design to take

292 JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

our lives." James Dickenson, who was walking up and
down the room, whilst his heart, we may feel sure, was
uplifted to God, did not at once answer her. When he
spoke, he said, " They have mischief in their hearts, but
I hope the Lord will preserve our lives." He tried to
cheer her by other remarks : then, after being again
silent for a time, he once more expressed his hope that
God would deliver them, adding, " But if so, we must
run." " Alas ! " was Jane Fearon's disconsolate reply,
how can we run, or whither can we go ? "

James Dickenson took a careful survey of the room,
with a candle in his hand, and found a second door, on
opening which he saw a flight of stone back-stairs on
the outside of the house. Leaving the candle burning
in the room, after taking off their shoes, they noiselessly
descended the steps, and then ran until, at a consi-
derable distance from the public-house, they reached an
outbuilding, which they entered. But soon James
Dickenson said, " We are not safe here ; we must run
again." Jane Fearon answered that she was so weary
that she did not think she could go any farther. How-
ever, as her friend thought it essential that they should
quit this spot, they did so, hastening on until they came
to a river, which they soon discovered was crossed by a
bridge ; they were about to go over it, when James
Dickenson felt this would not be the right course for
them to pursue, and that it would be safer to go farther
up the bank. Then they sat down to rest, but soon
James Dickenson said, " We are not safe here ; we must
wade through the river." " Alas ! " replied his com-
panion, "how can we cross it, and know not its depth?
It will be better for them to take our lives than for

JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

293

us to drown ourselves. The swollen river was safely
passed over, and soon after this had been accomplished,
while the fugitives were seated on a sandbank, James
Dickenson remarked that he did not yet feel easy, and
believed that they ought to go farther on. " Well, I
must go by thy faith," was Jane Fearon's answer.

Before long they saw another sandbank containing
a cavity, and soon Dickenson said, " I am now easy,
and believe that we are perfectly safe, and feel in my
heart a song of thanksgiving and praise." But his com-
panion's faith was far from being as strong ; and when
they heard voices on the other side of the river — fearing
that her terror might cause her to make an outcry — he
gently said, " Our lives depend upon our silence." It
was plain that the voices were those of their pursuers,
for the words, " Seek them, Keeper," were frequently
heard. Apparently the dog had led them as far as the
bridge — but not over it — as he naturally followed the
scent of the footsteps along the river side until he lost
it at the spot where the travellers had crossed. They
now saw the people, who carried a lantern, and heard
one of them suggest that they had crossed the river
to which another made answer, " That's impossible
unless the devil took them over, for the river is brimful."
For some time they continued their search, and then left
the place.

In the light of the early morning the Friends noticed
a man on a high hill looking around in every direction,
who, they imagined, was endeavouring to discover their
hiding-place. On examination they found that the
position of the hollow in which they had taken refuge
was such as to prevent them from being observed from

294 JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FKIENDS.

the opposite side of the river ; whilst the sandbank on
which they had first sat down could be plainly seen,
and would have been a most unsafe retreat. They now
began to think of their horses and saddle-bags, and Jane
Fearon proposed that they should go on to a town and
make known their case. But James Dickenson reminded
her that they could give no positive proof of the guilty
intentions of the inhabitants of the public-house, and
moreover, that such a course might give the magistrates
an excuse for imprisoning the accusers instead of the
accused. " I incline," he added, " to return to the house,
fully believing our clothes and bags will be ready for us
without our being asked a question, and that the people
we saw last night we shall see no more."

Jane Fearon, not sharing her fellow-traveller's faith
(which was, it seems, marvellously manifested at this
juncture), said that she dared not go back, but consented
to do so when James Dickenson added, " Thou mayst
safely, for I have seen that which never failed me."
Doubtless he felt perfect confidence in following the
" still " and " small," though well-known voice of the
Heavenly Shepherd — the gentlest whispers of which,
long-continued listening and constant obedience had
caused him easily to recognise.* On arriving at the inn,

* " Assuredly the New Testament does place the Christian Church
under a dispensation of spiritual influence not common to those with-
out it, and does also make the individual's participation of such
influences proportionate to the measure of his faith, and love, and
obedience. . . . And assuredly there can be no logical line drawn
between the special and general communications of Divine influence.
. . . The experience of a Christianised soul — of a soul bared to all
the influences of God's special revelations — who shall limit, and who
shall define ? " — Lectures on Great Men, by the late Frederick Myers,
Incumbent of St. John's, Keswick.

JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FKIENDS.

295

they found their clothes ready for them, and the horses
in the stable with the saddle-bags on them, but the only
person visible was an old woman sitting by the fire,
whom they did not recollect seeing on the previous
night ; having paid her what they owed they continued
their journey.

When James Dickenson afterwards visited that
neighbourhood, he learned that, some suspicion having
been awakened respecting this house, a search had
been made, which resulted in the discovery of a large
quantity of wearing apparel and a great number of
human bones ! The house was pulled down and some
of its inhabitants were executed.

In the autumn of 1713, he joined Thomas Wilson at
Dublin, in order to undertake his third visit to America.
His deep sense of God's love made it easy to do His will,
for long experience had taught him that —

" There is no blessedness but in such bondage ;
Sure it is sweeter far than liberty."

In Carolina they were cheered by the reception given
to their message by many young Friends, whom they
trusted the Lord was preparing for His service ; and
also by meeting with those to whom their previous
labours had been greatly blessed. Some of the meetings
in Pennsylvania were so large that several hundreds of
people were obliged to stand out of doors. A meeting,
also at New Plymouth, was held under the trees, on
account of the great number present.

Somewhere in that crowd was a young English girl,
the depths of whose soul were stirred by the ministry
of Thomas Wilson ; her name was Jane Hoskens, and

296 JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

she had been residing in America for about two years.
She had been brought up as a member of the Church of
England. During a severe illness, and whilst in great
mental distress, she had been ready to covenant with
God that if He would prolong her life she would dedicate
it to His service. Her mind was deeply impressed
with the conviction that if He restored her to health it
would be His will that she should go to Pennsylvania.
When about eighteen she left England with a family
who were about to settle in Philadelphia. After passing
through many trials she went to New Plymouth, where
she was employed as governess by some families of
Friends. It was at first from a feeling of curiosity that
she attended their meetings ; but after a while she was
convinced that spiritual worship was a blessed reality
to many present, and this led her to consider why it
was not so with herself, for she had supposed that she
knew a great deal about religion. And often these
words came to her memory : — " In Jesus Christ neither
circumcision availeth anything, nor uncircumcision, but
a new creature." Her earnest prayers that the true way
of salvation might be shown her were answered, as again
and again, whilst sitting in meeting, the sermons which
she heard seemed as a message to tell her that the way
to the Eather was through Christ, the Door, and to turn
her attention to the teaching of the Holy Spirit.

But it was when quite alone that a sense of God's
loving forgiveness was granted her : then it was easy
to give up many things at her Saviour's bidding, for
she loved Him more than her own life. One day
whilst in meeting these words seemed to be spoken in
her heart : " I have chosen thee a vessel from thy youth

JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS. 297

to serve Me, and to preach the Gospel of salvation to
many people ; if thou wilt be faithful, I will be with
thee unto the end of time, and make thee an heir of
my kingdom." She was for some time unwilling to
give heed to this call, and deep suffering ensued ; but
when she yielded her will to God, He was her shield
and exceeding great reward. In Thomas Wilson's
ministry on the day alluded to, he said much with
regard to the captive maid's service to her Lord and
Master (2 Kings v. 4), very powerfully dwelling on the
blessedness enjoyed by those who have placed them-
selves under Christ's control. Jane Hoskens was urged
to dine at the house where the English travellers were
entertained. Thomas Wilson looking earnestly at her
said, " What young woman is that ? She is like the
little captive maid I have been speaking of this day.
May the God of my life strengthen her : she will meet
with sore trials, but if she is faithful the Lord will fit
her for His service. He is at work in her for good
and will in His time bring her through all." Often in
future years did Jane Hoskens recall these words, when
she travelled extensively as a minister in her adopted
land, and twice in England and Ireland.

When Dickenson and Wilson were at Burlington
Yearly Meeting, the concourse of people was so great
that two meetings were held at the same time, the
Court-house being made use of for one of them. From
Oxford, in Maryland, they sailed for Liverpool ; to their
great disappointment the captain of the vessel refused
to allow them time to attend the meeting at Oxford,
before sailing. That night there was a great storm,
which lasted for several days, during which the vessel

298 JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

sprung a leak, and, being soon afterwards becalmed,
was in great danger. The Friends poured forth earnest
prayers for deliverance ; and the next day a south wind
arose, and the ship safely ran into Lynhaven Bay.
They again went on shore, and spent many weeks in
holding meetings in Virginia, Maryland, etc. When
travelling through this region twenty-two years earlier,
they had no guide for a hundred miles, and slept in the
woods ; yet faith was given them to believe that the
Lord would exalt His truth there. Now they found
their hopes, in part, fulfilled, and were firmly persuaded
that God would carry on His work to His own glory.
Many Friends rendered them what aid they could
during these renewed labours, which appear to have
been much blessed.

Soon after his return from America in 1715, James
Dickenson attended the London Yearly Meeting, and
writes of these assemblies being " crowned with the
Lord's living presence," and of hearts filled with the
joy of His salvation. Two years later he visited many
parts of England. In allusion to Bristol, he writes : —

" My exercise was great that all might be sensible of the
work of the Lord to sanctify and lit them for His king-
dom. I saw the fields ripe unto harvest, which was great,
and the faithful labourers therein were but few. My cries
went forth unto the Lord that He would fit many and send
them forth into His harvest. He was near to answer and to
bow the spirits of many under the operation of His hand ;
of which I was glad under a sense of His great love to
mankind."

When not engaged in religious journeys he diligently
attended to his business. In 1722 he went to Ireland in
company with John Urwen, who was a very powerful

JAMES DICKENSON AND UTS FRIENDS. 299

minister, and singularly useful also in other labours for
the Lord, at whose disposal he had placed his great
natural talents.* « At Edenderry James Dickenson had
the pleasure of staying at the house of his beloved
friend Thomas Wilson, and says that they " were sweetly
refreshed together in the enjoyment of God's love," and
that they parted in much tenderness. Probably this
was their last interview on earth, as Thomas Wilson
died early in 1725. One evening during his last illness,
when several Friends were in his room, he spoke very
sweetly of the evidence God had granted him, — " That
a great harvest-day was coming over the nations, and
that the Lord was fitting, and would fit many, and send
them into the harvest." He said he was comforted in
feeling that " Friends were inward with the Lord in
their spirits," and remarked on how closely their hearts
had been drawn together in the beginning, trusting that
such nearness and unity might continue and increase,
and that they might " dwell in humility and keep low."
He gave God all the' glory for the blessing which had
eminently crowned his labours, saying : " Although the
Lord hath made use of me at times to be serviceable in
His hand, what I trust in is the mercy of God in Jesus
Christ."

After returning from Ireland, James Dickenson,
accompanied by another Friend, travelled through the

* On his death-bed, when eighty-six years of age, John Urwen
remarked, that if he had his life to live over again, he did not well
know how to do better. At first one reads these words with sur-
prise ; but, on deeper consideration, do they not seem to bear the
stamp of a genuine humility ? The assurance that the work had
been well done — being such as a trustful child might feel, notwith-
standing its helplessness, from the simple consciousness that it had
been implicitly carrying out the directions of a wise Father.

300 JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS.

Western Counties, from Lancashire to Cornwall. Their
labour being, he says, " to turn people to the Lord and
settle them on His teachings." At the York Quarterly-
Meeting in 1726 he spoke of how extremely important
it was that particulars should be preserved — for the
benefit of future generations — of the persecutions and
deep trials which Friends had undergone for the cause
of Christ, as well as of the wonders which He had
wrought for their deliverance. When he laid this matter,
which had long rested on his mind, before the next
Yearly Meeting in London, to his great satisfaction an
arrangement was made for the carrying out of the pro-
position. Later in the year we find him, as usual,
labouring as God enabled him " to gather people to the
teachings of His Holy Spirit/' He has left no record
of his journeyings to the Yearly Meeting, and to many
parts of England, after the year 1727.

About twelve months before his death his speech
was much affected by palsy, yet he was able occasionally
to tell those around him — as they might well have
believed had no words been spoken— that " God, whom
he had served, was still with him, and that he had the
evidence of peace and future felicity sealed upon his soul."

For about sixty-five years he was engaged in the
ministry. He died in 1741, when in his eighty-third
year, at Moorside, in his native county. " There are,"
writes Dora Greenwell, " many gains, many losses in
Christ, over and above that great, inappreciable loss of
the salvation of the soul in Him. W s are made poor by
what we miss as vjell as by what we lose." And why
should not the least child of the household of God
commit himself, as completely and confidingly as James

JAMES DICKENSON AND HIS FRIENDS. 301

Dickenson did, to the discipline, the control, the care
and the love of his Father in Heaven ? that thus, in
God's good time, he also may have the blessedness of
knowing for himself that, " as the mountains are round
about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about His people,
from henceforth even for ever."

" For of a new Jerusalem
Sons are we all :
Round us are mightier towers,
A brighter heaven above :

O, be the Lord's, as He is ours,
In faithful love."

WILLI AJVl EDMUND£OJN.

" But best they learn whom Thou dost teach
A wisdom all uncramp'd by rules ;
And silence may say more than speech,

And more than schools."

R. H. Cooke.

305

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

" We could not be satisfied without the sure, inward, Divine
knowledge of God and Christ, and the enjoyment of those comforts
the Scriptures declared of, which true believers enjoyed in the
primitive times." — William Edmundson.

" The common discourse of all sorts of people was of
the Quakers, and various reports were of them ; the
priests everywhere were angry against them, and the
baser sort of people spared not to tell strange stories of
them ; but the more I heard of them the more I loved
them." Thus writes William Edmundson, in allusion
to the year 1651, when he was about the age of twenty-
four, and employed as a soldier in the Parliamentary
army. Although unable to become acquainted with
Friends, he says that when he heard of them a fervent
yearning that the Lord would show him the way of
righteousness arose in his heart.

He was born in 1627, at Little Musgrove, in West-
moreland, and was left an orphan at an early age. The
uncle to whose care he was confided was unjust and
harsh, and he could have felt no regret when leaving
him, in order to be apprenticed to a carpenter and
joiner at York, where at that time there seems to
have been a religious awakening. William Edmundson's
heart now became sorely troubled with Calvinistic
perplexities, and with the unanswered question, " What
shall I do to be saved ? " One day he was so over-
come by his feelings whilst sitting in church, that he
attracted the attention of both the clergyman and the

x

306

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

congregation, yet no one told him of the Lamb of
God which taketh away the sin of the world.

When in Scotland under Oliver Cromwell, in 1650,
" The Lord," as he says, " began afresh with him : at
one time he would be brought very low, feeling deep
condemnation for the life he was leading, and at another
his heart would be so touched by the mercies of God as
to cause him to shed tears of joy. And yet, strange to
say, he knew not Who it was that thus dealt with him,
nor did any of the high professors of religion whom he
met with in the army enlighten him on this point.
Sometimes, as he lay down in his tent at night and
thought of the imminent peril to which his life had
been exposed, he would resolve to repent and turn over
a new leaf. But too often he allowed all serious con-
siderations to be driven away by the active service in
which he was engaged ; and although after the battle
of Worcester he was conscience-smitten anew by the
Lord's mercy in preserving his life, he not only rejected
this visitation to his soul, but even made light of it.
Yet that love which all the day long stretches forth its
hands unto the disobedient and gainsaying, followed
him still, awakening in the reckless young soldier a
deep interest in the scoffed-at Friends, and an earnest
desire to be shown the path of life.

In the following year he left the army and married.
He had intended to settle in Derbyshire as a shop-
keeper, but was persuaded by one of his brothers to
take up his abode in Ireland, whither he went, promising
himself " great matters and religion besides ! " Much
disappointment, however, awaited him on his arrival at
Dublin with his wife, servant and merchandise. He

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

307

had expected that some preparations for the opening
of his business would have been made by his brother ;
but instead of realising this hope he learned that the
company of soldiers to which his brother belonged had
been ordered to the north of Ireland. William Edmund-
son was strongly urged to remain in Dublin, where it
seemed probable that a very successful trade might be
carried on ; this proposal he declined, and afterwards
believed that he was prevented from accepting it by an
unseen Hand, which thus preserved him from being
" laden with riches as thick clay, and thereby hindered
from the Lord's service." In after years he would often
express his opinion that " the too-eager pursuit of the
riches and greatness of this world was the chief engine
the enemy had wherewith to hurt us." And in a letter
to his friend William Ellis he writes, " The love of the
greatness and riches of this world, and the earnest
pursuit after them, is a surfeiting weed, and surfeits
those noble parts in a man which otherwise are capable
of serving the Lord."

On leaving Dublin William Edmundson took a house
at Antrim, where his brother was then stationed, and
after selling the goods he had brought with him, re-
turned to England for a fresh stock. Whilst with his
relations in the North he heard that James Naylor was
going to hold a meeting;, and still retaining his lovin"
interest in Eriends, and strong desire to have some
intercourse with them, he attended it, accompanied by
his eldest brother and another relative. He thus de-
scribes this epoch in his life : —

" We were all three convinced of the Lord's blessed truth.
Then I knew it was the Lord's hand that had been striving

308

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

•with me for a long time. . . . Now being turned to a measure
of the Lord's Spirit manifested in my heart, I knew it was
the truth that led into all truth, agreeable to the Holy-
Scriptures of the law and prophets, Christ and His Apostles ;
and I thought all that heard it declared must needs own it,
it was so plain to me. A few days after the Lord's power
seized upon me through His Spirit, whereby I was brought
under great exercise of mind. . . . But I loved the Lord's
judgments."

On the return voyage he was assailed with the temp-
tation to land his goods without paying duty. This
caused, he says, " a great contest betwixt conscience
and self, and many Scriptures were opened to my under-
standing, and self struggled hard for mastery, yet at last
was overthrown." When he arrived at home his brother
came to the door to meet him, and, seeing that some
great change had come over him, was so much impressed
by it that, on re-entering the house, he sat down in
silence. William Edmundson, whose wife no doubt was
also present, tells us that he was " much broken in the
power of the Lord before them," and adds that his
brother " received the truth and joined with it."

On going back to Carrickfergus for his goods, he was
told that they would be seized unless he would take an
oath to the correctness of his bills of parcels. But
though only beginning to understand the value of the
Pearl of great price, he felt that it was worth selling all
for ; so he told the officers that he could not swear
because it was contrary to the commandments of Christ,
which seems to have been altogether a new idea to them.
It led to a good deal of talk about Friends in general,
and William Edmundson in particular ; but after delay
and opposition he obtained an order to bring his goods
to the Custom House.

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

309

A time of deep trial, described by himself as " a great
war and conflict betwixt flesh and spirit," soon followed.
None of those around him could understand what ailed
him, or afford him any comfort. Sleep forsook him, and
in his solitude of soul he longed for the fellowship of
some one who had trodden such a path before him.
One day his wife told him that, whilst he had been out,
a stranger from England, named Miles Bousfield, had
called and said much in favour of Friends, and of his
great pleasure at the prospect of becoming acquainted
with William Edmundson. The latter, not foreseeing
the disappointment awaiting him, took his horse and
rode a distance of twelve miles to the house where Miles
Bousfield was staying, and spent the night with him.
Silently and heedfully William Edmundson listened to
his plentiful discourse on the work of God by His
Spirit, and also to his advice to be " cheerful and merry,
and not look at the inward troubles that bowed him
down." But such counsel could not availingly comfort
him, for it was premature ; according to his own con-
fession, whilst loving the truth he would fain have had
it without abandoning worldly pleasures and profits.
When at the end of a week he found himself in even a
worse state than before, some fresh ability was given
him to apply to the Physician who " maketh sore and
bindeth up." He writes : — " I was weak but the Lord's
strength was perfect in weakness, and His Spirit and
power increased in me through obedience to the cross of
Christ, wherein I was daily exercised, and thereby grew
into acquaintance with the Lord's work to make me a
vessel for His purpose."

In the spring of the following year he removed with

310

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

his family to the County of Armagh, where he took a
house and opened a shop. He became aware that his
conduct was narrowly watched by those who wished to
oppose the doctrines he upheld, and he was often sorely
tried. His business at first suffered from his keeping
to one price in the sale of his goods. Inward suffering
was also his portion, and yet he writes : — " Sometimes,
when the Lord's hand would be easy with me, I would
be afraid lest He should withdraw His hand ; then my
desires were to the Lord not to slacken His hand, but
to search me thoroughly ; for His judgments were be-
come sweet to my taste, which He many times mixed
with springs of mercy, to my joy and comfort."

At this time he was twenty-seven years of age, and
twice a week a meeting was held at his house, consisting
of himself, his wife and brother, and, after a while, of
four others ; often these seasons of waiting on God were
times of refreshing from His presence. In the following
year a Friend named John Tiffin paid a religious visit
to Ireland, and William Edmundson thought it right to
travel with him. As they made their appearance at
fairs, etc., there was pretty much questioning on the
tenets of Friends, about whom so many false stories
had been circulated, in order to arouse prejudice, that
the travellers even found it difficult to obtain a lodging.
John Tiffin longed, we find, " to get an entrance for
Truth " in Belfast, where many of the inhabitants made
a high religious profession, yet "ears, doors, and hearts"
were alike closed against an uncompromising setting-
forth of Christianity in, what a modern writer styles,
its "objective reality." One day, therefore, accompanied
by William Edmundson and his brother, he went to a

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

311

part of the high road not far from the town, where three
lanes met, and there sat down to hold a meeting.
" People came about us," writes William Edmundson ;
" we were a wonder to them, and something was spoken
to direct their minds to God's Spirit in their own
hearts."

William Edmundson now found, he says, that " the
Lord's power and Spirit " influenced him to express a
little in meetings. " Several," lie adds, " gathered to
our meetings, were convinced, and received the Truth.
So we got meetings in several places, there being a great
openness among people."

Many were to be the seals to his ministry of fifty-
seven years' duration. We are told that though " bold
as a lion," he bore persecution with " a lamb - like
spirit ; " and whilst zealous in his care of the churches,
and valiant for the cause of Christ, he was also " a con-
firmer of the doubtful and sympathiser with the mourn-
ful." A Friend, who had known him for thirty years,
writes of him as one of the first instruments in the hands
of God in that day in Ireland, turning the thoughts of
the people to " the marvellous and inshming light of
Jesus Christ, the glorious Sun of Pdghteousness." He
also alludes to his great concern to " stir up those the
Lord had gifted to answer their respective services ; "
and describes him as "a man of undaunted spirit, grave,
meek, free from affectation, and fit to stand before
princes." Another Friend writes of " his incessant
labours and travels both by sea and land, to gather to
Christ, and that the churches gathered might be rooted
and grounded in Him ; " and mentions one especial
occasion when a deep impression was made by his

312

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

ministry, and when he had himself remarked that
on " that morning the word of the Lord burned in him
as a fire."

About the time that Edmundson first spoke in meet-
ings he had a strong desire to meet with George Fox,
whom he had never seen. Accordingly he went to
England, and met with him at Badgeley, where a large
meeting of Friends from various towns was held. When
it was over he went up to George Fox, and they with-
drew to an orchard, where the latter knelt in prayer ; he
dealt tenderly with his inexperienced companion, who
felt that the interview was hallowed by the presence
and power of the Lord.

During the same year William Edmundson went with
his brother to transact some business at a fair at An-
trim, and, not being able to leave until a late hour, they
proposed to spend the night at a place called Glenavy.
But before arriving there William Edmundson had a
strong conviction that his shop was in danger of being
robbed, and consequently resolved to return home with-
out delay. Yet a little while after they had left Glenavy,
he believed that a heavenly intimation was given him,
that the Lord had need of him at Clough. No wonder
that in this perplexity he should feel what he terms " a
fear of a wrong spirit." He earnestly prayed for guid-
ance, and was answered by the belief afforded him that
He who now drew him back would also save his shop.
The night was therefore spent at Glenavy, but William
Edmundson's doubts in relation to the course he was
taking prevented him from obtaining much sleep. To-
wards the evening of the next day he arrived at Clough,
and rode up to an inn where he found that two Friends,

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

313

who were ministers from England, were lodging ; one of
them, Anne Gould, was ill, having undergone much
hardship whilst travelling on foot. She was in a des-
pairing state of mind, being tempted to fear that God
had forsaken her, but when she heard that William
Edmundson — whom she knew by report — was come, her
heart was cheered ; he at once saw why he had been
guided to Clough, and did not hesitate to tell the Friends
that he had been brought there " by the good hand of
God — led as a horse by the bridle." With great thank-
fulness and joy they received his visit ; Anne Gould
was enabled to see that her trial was in reality a grievous
temptation, and was delivered from it. On his return
home, William Edmundson found that, during the night
he had spent at Glenavy, his shop-window had been
broken, but had fallen with so much noise as to awaken
the inmates of the house and drive the robbers away
for fear of detection.

We now frequently find Edmundson going from place
to place to publish the truths which he held dear; he
often encountered harsh usage, yet some Friends' meet-
ings were established. At Armagh he was imprisoned
in a little room in the house of the gaoler, who did not
find it pleasant work to hold this prisoner of the Lord ;
and his wife would sometimes exclaim that William
Edmundson's presence was a torment to her — though
he was quite silent. During this confinement he was
taken ill, but arose from his bed to have a discussion
with a Presbyterian minister, some elders, and two
colonels. Notwithstanding their strong opposition to
him, they went quietly away when it was over, for he
says his heart and tongue were " full of the word of

314

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

Life to declare the way of Truth to them." He adds
that in the midst of that morning's work the Lord
healed him of his illness.

One of these disputants was a Colonel Cunningham,
who was Chairman of the County Sessions, and, being
a ready talker, he renewed the controversy when
William Edmundson was brought before him and the
other justices. The prisoner would willingly have
avoided this, but, being unable to do so, a close argu-
ment followed, in which his antagonist was thoroughly
worsted. He was annoyed at this defeat, in the presence
of a large assembly from the surrounding country,
and began to threaten Edmundson ; but another
justice arose, and, remarking on the unfairness of such
conduct, told him that if he would dispute, he must do
it on equal terms and lay aside his authority. He spoke
also with approval of what had been expressed by
William Edmundson, and it was soon decided that he
should be set free ; indeed the Bench seemed to be
somewhat ashamed of his commitment.

Soon afterwards William Edmundson thought it his
duty to give up his shop, and take a farm, in order, he
says, " to be an example in the testimony against tithes."
His brother and several other Friends with their families
accompanied him to the county of Cavan, where many
were added to their number and new meetings were
opened. Their living was hard, and their bedding straw
— whilst they were vigorously persecuted for the non-
payment of tithes. Yet the peace of God was their
portion. " For," writes William Edmundson, " in those
days the world and the things of it were not near our
hearts, but the love of God and His Truth lived in our

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

315

hearts. We were glad of one another's welfare in the
Lord, and His love dwelt in us."

He now felt that the time was come for him to pay a
religious visit to other counties, going — to quote his
own words — " from place to place as the Lord's good
Spirit guided." We read of two troopers being " con-
vinced," and coming to meetings ; and of a sojourn at
Belturbet, where the provost of the town, bringing a
rough company, broke up a solemn meeting, and sent
both men and women to prison, where the latter suffered
much from the extreme cold. In the morning, after
liberating the other Friends, he had William Edmund-
son placed in the stocks in the market place, and thus
unwittingly afforded him an excellent opportunity for
addressing the people assembled there, who, thronging
around this unusual pulpit, listened gravely and
feelingly to the persecuted stranger.

Nor did they hesitate to censure the provost for his
conduct ; one of them — a mere boy, Kobert Wardel by
name — telling him to his face that he had set a better
man than himself in the stocks ! We cannot wonder
that this speech was the cause of his soon finding him-
self in the stocks by William Edmundson's side. He
was cjuickly released, as his father threatened the provost
with the law ; but that day was an epoch in his life,
for his heart had been reached by the truths taught
and exemplified by the strange preacher; he boldly
joined the new sect, and in after years himself became
a minister, and in that capacity travelled in Great
Britain, Germany, Holland, and America.

After a while Edinundson was summoned to the
Court-house, before the governor of the garrison, the

316

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

officers, and some of the chief inhabitants of the town.
The clerk read Cromwell's declaration that all should
be protected in their religion who "owned God the
Creator of all things, and Christ Jesus the Saviour of
men, and the Scriptures," etc. William Edmundson
was then desired to answer to the various points : after
he had done so, the governor and his companions
decided that the Friends and their religion were under
protection. William Edmundson did not abstain from
appealing to those present that they could bear witness
how long his friends and himself had been illegally
imprisoned, and how unjustly he had been placed in
the stocks. Nor did he hesitate to remind them that
the law gave amends in such cases. Several gentlemen
hereupon offered to be evidence if he would go to law
with the provost ; and the governor arose from his seat
and taking his hand spoke of his regret for the ill-
treatment to which his companions and himself had
been subjected, assuring him also that he had had no
hand in the matter. To these remarks Edmundson
replied by asking where he had been during the last
two days that he did not appear with his band of
soldiers to appease the uproar ? " My spirit," he writes,
" was borne up in the power of the Lord as upon the
wings of an eagle that day. Truth's testimony was
over all their heads, and my heart was filled with joy
and praises to the Lord. Many were convinced that
day, and several of them received the Truth and abode
in it."

William Edmundson now rejoined his friends, in
whose company he found a Baptist minister, named
William Parker, whose wife was a Friend, and one of

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

317

the prisoners of the preceding night. As she did not
arrive at home her husband had set out to seek her,
and although he had felt a strong opposition to William
Edmundson, he was touched to the heart on seeing him
in the stocks, exposed to the rigorous temperature of
a keen winter morning. The governor and several of
those in authority were Baptists, and William Edmund-
son asked William Parker what he thought of his
brethren's conduct ? He answered that he was ashamed
that those " who had been so long professing and fight-
ing for conscience, should now suffer conscience to be
trodden in the dirt." From that day he attended the
meetings of Friends, and became an earnest minister.
A Captain Morris — a highly-esteemed Baptist elder,
a justice of the peace and governor of the garrison —
when told of what had happened at Belturbet was
much troubled, and, as he did not keep his sentiments
to himself, a rumour reached the Court of Dublin that
Captain Morris was turned Quaker. When examined
by the general and chief officers, he owned that he held
the faith and principles of Friends, and was therefore
discharged from his command; he, also, became a
minister.

During a confinement of fourteen weeks in a close
and filthy dungeon in Cavan — where he was one night
nearly stifled — William Edmundson was distressed at
the news of James Naylor's fall, and with the conse-
quent reflection that if such a man were the prey of
temptation how could he himself hope to withstand it ?
But his spirit was comforted by the conviction that
" Truth is Truth, though all men forsake it." William
Edmundson was often imprisoned when travelling in

318

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

other parts of the North of Ireland. Here one day we
find him taking the Scotch Presbyterians of Donegal by
surprise as he rode from house to house asking if there
were any that feared God there ! And the next, stand-
ing in Londonderry market place, amidst stage-players
and rope-dancers, calling all to repentance, whilst direct-
ing them to Christ and the enlightening influence of the
Holy Spirit ; and going on with this discourse from a
prison-window, until the gaoler fettered him as a con-
demned felon. But —

" Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage,"

so he sat down very peacefully to enjoy sweet commu-
nion with his Lord.

In the tumult caused in Ireland in 1661, by the
accession of Charles II., the Friends were persecuted
with increased vehemence. William Edmundson, during
twenty days' leave of absence from Maryborough Prison,
obtained an order of release for Friends throughout the
nation from the Earls of Orrery, Mountrath, Lords Jus-
tices of the Kingdom, and Sir Morris Eustace, Chan-
cellor. The Lord's power, he says, won him a place in
the Earl of Mountrath's heart, which he retained until
the death of that nobleman. In 1665 the Friends of
Mountmellick were shamefully oppressed by the clergy-
man residing at that place, who even tried to prevent
the miller from grinding corn for them. This clergy-
man was a justice of the peace and had William
Edmundson, who lived in that neighbourhood, appre-
hended at a meeting, and appeared against him with
two indictments. Four lawyers, of whom Edmundson
knew nothing, and to whom he had given no fee, pleaded

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

319

most successfully for him. Much sympathy was felt
by the assembled people, many of whom said, as he
passed them, " The Lord help you ' "

In the same year he visited Londonderry, believing
that he was commissioned to warn the inhabitants of
that city that, if they did not repent, God would " bring
a scourge over them, and scale their walls without a
ladder." This he did in the cathedral and in the streets.
Twenty-four years later the people of Londonderry re-
called his words, when thousands of their number
perished miserably during the terrible siege of that city,
from the famine and wretchedness which its high
walls could not shut out, as they did King James's
troops.

In 1671 William Edmundson sailed for the West
Indies and America, in company with George Fox and
other Friends. One moonlight night they were in great
danger from pirates who were about to board their vessel,
when a cloud concealed her from them, and a fresh gale
of wind meanwhile carried her beyond their reach. In
the West Indies they had good service in gathering the
people to Christ, and in Jamaica established meetings
among them. Great were the hardships borne by William
Edmundson and two Friends who accompanied him,
during a wilderness journey in Carolina. One dark
night in a forest was spent by the former in walking-
backward and forward between two trees, because his
clothes were so drenched with rain that he dared not
lie down, notwithstanding his weariness. He writes :
" I had eaten little or nothing that day, neither had I
anything to refresh me but the Lord."

The following morning they reached Albemarle Paver,

320

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

and the home of a Friend named Henry Phillips ; his
wife and himself wept for joy on seeing one of their
spiritual kindred, a pleasure which they had not expe-
rienced for seven years. It was a Sunday, and William
Edmundson bade them give notice of a meeting to be
held at mid-day, asking to be called if he slept too long.
It is supposed that at this time there were only about
3,000 Europeans in Carolina, whose houses were scat-
tered over the State, one rarely within sight of another,
and usually unconnected, except by paths lying along
the banks of rivers and inlets, and marked by notches
in trees. A religious meeting was a great novelty, and
the men who came to it thought it quite superfluous to
lay aside their pipes. " But in a little time," writes
William Edmundson, " the Lord's testimony arose in
the authority of His power, and their hearts were ten-
dered." A Justice of the Peace, who was present with
his wife, having " received the truth with gladness,"
asked that a meeting might be held at his house the next
day, and a blessed one it proved to be.

Bancroft states that from the commencement of the
settlement, there seems to have been no minister in the
colony, and " no public worship but such as burst from
the hearts of the people themselves." Towards the end
of the year, George Eox, and other Friends, visited Caro-
lina and the isolated converts there were remembered
by him with such deep solicitude that, before leaving
America, he addressed an epistle to them, exhorting
them to meet together in the name of Jesus — " There is
no salvation in any other name. He is your Prophet,
your Shepherd, your Bishop, your Priest in the midst
of you, to sanctify you, and to feed you with life ; wait

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

321

in His power and light that ye may he built upon Him
the true Foundation."

Whilst in Virginia Edmundson visited the governor,
Sir William Barclay, to lay before him the sufferings of
the Friends who dwelt there. He had by no means a
courteous hearing, but afterwards learnt that he had
fared better than might have been anticipated ; for Major
General Bennet — described as a " brave, solid, wise
man, who received the Truth " — asked him if the
governor had called him " dog," or " rogue," and on re-
ceiving a negative reply said, " You took him in his best
humour." In Shelter Island William Edmundson had
the pleasure of meeting with George Fox and other
Friends, from whom he parted, after two or three days,
" in the sweet love of God." His homeward voyage was
a swift one. From Jamaica he addressed an epistle to
Friends, from which a brief extract follows : —

" Stand fast and firm in the freedom and liberty of the
blessed Truth. . . . Take heed of being linked and married
to your shops and trades, and merchandise, whereby you are
hindered from coming to meeting, serving the Lord and doing
His work, as though your work and business must be done
first, and the Lord's last. . . . If any be linked and married
to the world, and have their delights therein — how then are
they God's freemen and Christ's spouse ? . . . Be ye therefore
good merchantmen. Prize the love of God who, as a tender
Father, gave His Son for us."

In 1675 William Edmundson again visited the West
Indies and America ; he landed in Barbadoes, where a
great blessing seems to have rested on his labours in
public meetings for worship, " Men and women's meet-
ings for Church affairs, and negroes' meetings in
families." When the governor told him that he had

Y

322

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

heard that he was making the negroes Christians, and
thus leading them to rebellion and murder, William
Edmundson owned that that he had endeavoured to
bring them to " the knowledge of God and Christ Jesus,
and to believe in Him who died for them, and for all
men ; " such teaching, he remarked, would be likely to
deter them from insurrection, and if they did rebel it
would be the result of the state of brutal ignorance and
oppression in which they were kept.

In New England he felt that he was travelling with
his life in his hand, on account of the war with the
Indians. One day, accompanied by five or six other
Friends, he called on an aged man, whose house
was fortified for fear of the natives. When the gates
had been unlocked, William Edmundson, observing
that an elderly man was engaged in prayer, delayed
entering the room until he had arisen. William Ed-
mundson then told those who had assembled that he did
not come to disturb them, for he loved religion and was
seeking religious people. Then he relates how, as he sat
among them, his " heart being full of the power and
spirit of the Lord, the love of God ran through him to
the people," and he begged leave to address them.
After speaking, he says, of the mysteries of God's king-
dom, he "touched a little upon the priests," whereupon
the old man stood up, laid his band on his shoulder, and
said, " I must stop you, for you have spoken against our
ministers." William Edmundson was silent for a while,
and remarks that he was tender of them, for he felt they
were " a tender people." But he soon told them he had
much "to declare unto them of the things of God," yet
could not do so without the sanction of the master of the

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

323

house. This was again granted, and utterance was given
Mm to make known the mystery of the Gospel. Many
hearts were touched, whilst tears flowed freely, and he
ended the meeting with fervent prayer ; then his host
rose up and embraced him, and said he wished to know
what was the difference between their own ministers
and Friends. To this William Edrnundson replied :
" Your ministers are satisfied with the talk of Christ
and the Scriptures ; and we cannot be satisfied without
the sure, inward, Divine knowledge of God and Christ,
and the enjoyment of those comforts the Scriptures
declare of, which true believers enjoyed in the primitive
times." The old man answered, with tears, " Those are
the things I want ; " and, dear as provisions then were,
he would not allow the Friends to leave until they had
taken a meal with him. He wept as he folded William
Edrnundson in his arms as they were about to part, say-
ing, " I doubt I shall never see you again."

The latter had also an interesting interview with
some Baptists in the neighbourhood of New London,
who thought it right to keep the old Jewish Sabbath
on the last day of the week. He told them that Christ
had ended the law of the Old Covenant and was the
Eest of His people, and that all must know rest, quiet-
ness, and peace in Him. In reply to their questions
on Baptism, he quoted Matt. iii. 11, and John iii. 30,
and said that it was a " material question to such as
held water-baptism to be in force, to show how far it
was decreased, and when it would be at an end, and
Christ's baptism increased to perfection, and established
according to John's testimony ; but as for himself he
believed that John's water-baptism was ended long ago,

324

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

and Christ's established ; and there was one faith, and
one baptism." On the following evening Edmundson
went on board a sloop bound for New York, although
he had been strongly impressed with the belief that
his Lord had work for Him at New Hertford, in Con-
necticut ; but as the fifty-mile journey through the
wilderness was a most perilous one, on account of the
Indian warfare, he was unwilling to undertake it.
When the vessel was a few leagues from land a storm
came on, which made the captain take shelter in a
harbour, where she lay for some days on account of
the strong head-wind. William Edmundson did not
doubt that by this detention God was mercifully pre-
venting him from directing his own steps, and that, be
the consequences what they might, he must go to New
Hertford. When he told those on board how it had
been with him, the captain wept, and the hearts of
others were also touched.

In 1667, after an absence of two years, he returned
to his home, meeting his family, he says, " in the same
love of God that had made them willing to part with
one another, for a season, for the Lord's service." In
1682 William Edmundson and another Friend were
confined for twenty weeks in a dungeon, with thieves
and murderers, at the instigation of a clergyman, on
account of their refusal to pay tithes. They were
liberated by means of the mediation of their landlord,
the Lord of Ely, with the Bishop, who ordered them to
come before the Court at Kildare. In reply to his
questions, William Edmundson told him of his con-
viction that " the Law was ended that gave tithes, and
the Priesthood changed that received them, by the
coming and suffering of Christ, who had settled a

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

325

ministry on better terms." A dean who was present
spoke in a very kind manner, and said that had he
known William Edmundson as well before he should
not have thus suffered. William Edmundson was
enabled also to answer fully the queries put to him
with regard to Faith, to the Gospel ministry, and the
true worship of God. This conversation lasted for
three hours, and a Friend (John Burnyeat) who was a
listener, remarked that he had never been better satisfied
with a day's work in his life. From that hour the bishop
and officers of the Court dealt kindly with Friends.

In the following year William Edmundson again
visited the West Indies. In 1685 he had some un-
usual service in different parts of Ireland, for he was
made deeply sensible that a time of great calamity was
not far distant, when the dead bodies of men would be
spread over the ground ; and, as an ambassador for
Christ, often and faithfully did he warn those whom he
addressed, " to lessen their concerns in the world, and
be ready to receive the Lord in His judgments that
were at hand, and to flee unto Him for succour, that
they might have safety." This season of grievous trial
began when, on the accession of James II., the Earl of
Tyrconnel, Lord Deputy of Ireland, disarmed most of
the Protestants and placed arms at the disposal of the
Catholics. Several of the former were thus caused to
leave the country, or take refuge in garrisons : but in
the war which soon broke out many were wholly
unprotected from the Catholic soldiers and from the
plundering bands of Eapparees.* One day a party of

* Those who carried on war on a small scale ; (ee is an Irish
diminutive). This merciless banditti, belonging to neither army,
spread terror through the land.

326

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

horsemen arrived at Mountmellick, and violently
abused the Protestants who resided in that neighbour-
hood. William Edmundson they dragged by the hair
among the feet of their horses, swearing they would kill
him. The following morning he went to Mountmel-
lick, and had an interview with Justice Warnford and
another English gentleman, who told him they thought
this outbreak was the harbinger of a massacre. In
reply he gave them his opinion that it was more pro-
bably a plan for making the English flee from the
country, and he strongly advised that a full investiga-
tion should be made of the abuses which had been
perpetrated, and that some one should be sent to
Dublin to lay the matter before the Government. The
justice and his friend highly approved of this sugges-
tion, but said that no one would dare to take this step
unless it were himself. Although he well knew that
a journey to Dublin at this time would be with the
hazard of his life, he consented to run the risk for the
good of his countrymen. In consequence of the appeal
made by himself and two gentlemen from Mountmel-
lick some of the troopers were disarmed and sent to
Maryborough gaol.

During these years of trial Edmundson often visited
Dublin, and gained material aid from the Government
for the distressed Protestants, and especially for
Friends, as being altogether unarmed. Occasionally he
spoke to King James himself, who gave him a patient
hearing. After the battle of the Boyne, in 1689, some
of the defeated Irish army plundered many houses,
including that of William Edmundson. He told the
most influential Irishmen who lived near him that if

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

327

they would do all that lay in their power to keep their
fellow-countrymen from spoiling the English of the little
that was left to them, he and his friends would strive
to do as much for them when the advancing English
army should arrive. The proposal was fully accepted,
but the sworn promises of protection were but ill
kept. Yet William Edmundson felt that no failure
of duty in others could exempt him from its per-
formance.

William III. had issued a proclamation to the effect
that all the Irish who would remain quietly in their
homes should be unmolested, but nevertheless a body of
300 soldiers, under two captains, came to Mountmellick,
and seized some of the Irish residents and 500 head of
cattle. Amongst their prisoners was an old gentleman
of the name of William Dunn, who had been a captain
in the army, and his two sons ; one of the latter they
stripped, saying they should hang him on suspicion of
being one of the banditti. The Dunns managed to
acquaint William Edmundson with their perilous situa-
tion, and with all possible haste he rode after them and
their captors, followed by some of his Irish neighbours,
who hoped that he might help them to the restoration
of their friends and cattle. When the two captains
saw him they made a halt. He urged them to release
all the prisoners, and reminded them of the king's
promise. They said they were willing to act on his
advice if the soldiers could be led to do so. The latter
meanwhile were on the verge of attacking the men that
had followed William Edmundson, who now dismounted!
and, at the risk of his life, went amongst the excited
soldiers, and succeeded, with the assistance of their

328 WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

captains, in persuading them to restore most of the
cattle. He next sought out the young man whose life
had been threatened, and having thrown his own riding-
coat around him, told his captors how unmanly their
conduct towards him had been ; adding that he, who
had himself been a soldier, would have scorned so base
an action. Not only were young Dunn's clothes given
back to him, but he was liberated, as were also his
father and brother, and most of the other prisoners.

Although, during this time of misery towns were
burned and Protestants murdered, the Friends held
their meetings regularly, and " enjoyed them peaceably."
In the latter part of 1690 some hundreds of Eapparees
one night surrounded William Edmundson's home, and,
after discharging several shots through the windows,
set fire to the house. They robbed him of his cattle
and goods, and carried off his two sons and himself as
prisoners. With hardly any clothing on, and barefoot,
they suffered much, for their path that winter night led
them over rough ground, amidst bushes, and through
mire and knee-deep water. The next morning their
captors held a sham council in a wood, and determined
to shoot the father and hang the sons. The former told
the banditti that many of them knew him and his
family, and challenged them to prove that his sons or
himself had ever wronged them of a farthing ; on the
contrary — so he reminded them — he had imperilled his
life on behalf of their fellow-countrymen. To this
appeal several made answer that they knew he was
an honest man. "If I die," he then said, "you are my
witnesses that I am innocent. God will avenge my
blood." They were astonished at the fearlessness he

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

329

manifested — having two firelocks ready with which to
shoot him. After having blindfolded his sons, they
were about to perform the same office for him. " You
need not," he said ; " for I can look you in the face,
and am not afraid to die." At this critical moment
Lieutenant William Dunn, whose father and brother
had been so effectually aided by Edmundson, came
up, saying that he would take the three captives to
Athlone.

Yet this young officer's conduct was not influenced
by gratitude, but by the hope of preferment. Although
Athlone was only twenty miles off, he kept them for
three nights without food or fire. When some of the
Eapparees expressed their wonder at William Edmund-
son's power of withstanding such hardship, he said that
whilst thus deprived of provisions, the Lord had taken
away his appetite, so he was well fitted for his condition.
He knew, however, that his sons were very hungry,
and noticing an expression of pity on the face of an old
Irishman whose door they were passing, he asked for
a little bread for them. The old man answered that he
would give him a piece of bread, even were it bought
with gold, for he did not look like one who was used
to beg. When, on the following day, the Edmundsons
were led through the chief street of Athlone, they were
in danger of being stabbed with the bayonets of the
crowd of soldiers who filled it, and who called them
traitors and rebels. In this behaviour they were
encouraged by the high sheriff of the county. But just
then an Irish gentleman, Lieutenant Valentine Toole,
pressed through the crowd, and courteously greeting
the persecuted prisoner as " Master Edmundson," said

330

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

to the sheriff, " I have known him above twenty years
to be an honest man, say yon all what you will ot
him." This quieted the angry rabble, and after a little
while William Edmundson and his sons were brought
before the governor, who knew the former well, and
had occasionally been at his house. When he now
saw him, wrapped in an old blanket, he expressed his
sympathy, whilst tears stood in his eyes. He also
blamed Lieutenant Dunn for the false accusations he
had been making ; yet he was afraid to release the
prisoners, for he knew that many suspicious eyes were
fixed on him because of his consideration for the
English.

After committing them to custody he sent them some
beef, bread, drink, and money, but they had nothing to
lie on except the floor. William Edmundson was greatly
exhausted, and was so much distressed at the language
of some of his fellow-prisoners that he asked the gover-
nor to remove him to the dungeon, for he thought he
would rather die there than be amidst such depraved
companions. The governor said he had not the heart to
grant such a request, but gave him leave to go to the
house of a Friend, who lived six miles from Athlone,
and who had promised to " engage his body and all that
he had " for William Edmundson's " true imprisonment."
The latter was now able to send a few lines to relieve
the suspense of his poor wife. The governor soon libe-
rated the young Edmundsons, and with the aid of an
Irish colonel released their father a few days later.

D urine his absence William Edmundson's wife had
one day gone with some of her English neighbours to
the farmyard of one of her sons, in order to fetch his

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

331

stock of hides and leather. Whilst they were loading
the cars they were attacked hy another basely ungrate-
ful son of old Captain Dunn, with a party of Bapparees.
Notwithstanding the cold winter weather they stripped
"William Edmundson's wife of all her clothing, which
exposure brought on an illness that caused her death
seven months later.

The most conspicuous events of William Edmundson's
life have now been recorded, and the patient diligent
labours of his latter years, the result of which it is
impossible to estimate, must be hastily passed over.
They were often performed under much bodily infirmity,
but — to quote his own words — " The Lord who had
carried him through many exercises and perils was his
strength and song ; " and again and again we meet with
such acknowledgments as the following, " The Lord's
power healed me and carried me over." Once, when
ill at Leominster, a physician, who had been at the
meeting which he had held in that town, offered to
attend him by day and night, and with skilful kindness
ministered to his need gratuitously.

In 1697 he attended a meeting for eight counties at
Bristol, which lasted for four days. He writes : " The
Lord's eminent power wTent over all, whereby many
hearts were made glad and thankful to the Lord for that
visit and service." In the summer of 1700, whilst
visiting Connaught, we find that he was placed in the
stocks at Ayrescourt, to the grief of the people of that
place, some of whom, he says, wept " to see an ancient
man set in the stocks for worshipping God, having never
seen the like before." They might have spared their
tears had they known what consolation was granted to

332

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

him and his companions. He tells us that, after they
were liberated, " a brave, heavenly meeting was held."

In 170-1 his strength was so much reduced that he
thought his end was near. " I was not afraid," he
writes, " of death or the grave, but could say, through
the tender mercy of God, 0 death, where is thy sting ?
0 grave, where is thy victory ? Through steadfast
faith and hope in my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ,
who suffered for me, and whom death or the grave could
not hold, but rose again and appears before the Father
for me as Advocate, Mediator and Interceder."

Three months before his death, and when in his
eighty-fifth year, William Edmundson attended the
half-year's meeting at Dublin, and took leave of his
friends. A few hours before the attack which termi-
nated his life came on, he finished arranging his journal
and other writings. He told his friends that it gave
him pleasure to consider how he had spent his time
since the Lord called him to the ministry ; and said to
George Eooke, " We have had many good meetings
together, I believe we shall meet in heaven." To
Thomas Wilson he remarked that " The Lord had a
great work to do in the earth, though many did not see
it, and that His glorious day which had broken forth
would rise higher and higher upon His people."

William Edmundson died in the summer of 1712.
Very varied are the ways in which the Lord's children
are called to serve Him, perhaps as varied as are their
characters and mental and physical capabilities. For
each one, who is willing to be shown it, is there not a
path often lying parallel with the daily ordinary routine
of life, in which he can glorify God better than in any

WILLIAM EDMUNDSON.

333

other ? -For some it may be a similar one to that of
the old cripple who could not even turn in bed, but
was wont, as he lay there in his poverty and pain, to
pray, " Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy upon me and
every one ; not upon one only, but upon every one,
Lord Jesus Christ." May each keep that which is
committed to his trust, whatever it be ! and as we take
leave of William Edmundson, let us unite in these
words of one of his friends, " May it please the Lord of
the Harvest to raise up other labourers therein ; for the
harvest is great and such labourers but a few."

WILLIAN ELLI£ AND HI$
FF(IEND£.

" No tongue of mortal can express,
No pen can write the blessedness,
He only who hath proved it knows
What bliss from love of Jesus flows."

337

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

" Blessed be the Lord that hath made His arm bare in our time,
to bring us to the discovery of a most excellent situation, the glory
of which cannot be told with the tongue of men ; and it is intended
by Him that we should grow steadfast in the faith which gives
victory." — William Ellis.

Two remarkable ministers in the early days of the
Society of Friends were the brothers John and Roger
Haydock. The elder became a Friend at the age of
twenty-seven, and soon after found himself a prisoner
for conscience' sake in Lancaster Gaol. Thus began the
" much persecution both of tongues and hands," borne
with invincible patience, though often his lot, during
fifty years of apostolic labour in Great Britain, Ireland
and America. It was said of his ministry that it
" tended to the building up in the most holy faith in
our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, which gives victory
over sin." He died a prisoner in Lancaster Castle ; his
friends, in a brief " testimony " about him, state that
they " could not stand acquitted before God or man to
have buried the corpse with a few short sighs, and to
let his name go with him to the grave. We have raised
no monument over his sepulchre [they add] but there
is one due to his worth. His life was a sweet savour
and ought not to go under foot."

After he had become a Friend his mother one day
induced his younger, but learned and talented brother
Roger, to reason with him on the course which he had
i, z

338

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

taken ; but as John Haydock proved the good ground
he had for pursuing it, his brother soon became silent,
much to the mother's disappointment and displeasure.
But in reply to her words of blame young Roger said,
" It is truth, I dare not speak against it ; " ere long
he publicly professed the same views, and, undeterred
by persecution and delicate health, spent much time in
ministerial journeys. Roger Haydock died of fever at
the age of fifty-three ; his wife — to whom in her early
life he had been a faithful instructor in righteousness —
remarks on his readiness to leave her, when needful for
the service of their Lord. She adds, " I was made a
blessing to him more comfortable every day than other ;
he would often express it ; and truly so was he to me
every day, every way, and in every respect. No tongue
nor pen can relate the full of that comfort and joy we
had in God and one in another. . . . His name and
memory is blessed, and will live and be of a sweet
savour in the hearts of the righteous through ages."

When he was about thirty-three, on a winter day
early in 1667, Roger Haydock had held a meeting at
Lower Bradley, in the West Riding of Yorkshire.
Eleanor Lowe — who afterwards became his wife — and
her cousin, Elizabeth Hodson, both of whom were
ministers, were also present. Amongst the assembled
company was a youth of eighteen, named William Ellis,
who two years earlier had left his home at Calton and
engaged himself to a Friend at Skipton, a linen-weaver,
named John Stott. He had heard that a Friends' meet-
ing was to be held at Bradley, and he asked leave from
his " master and dame " to attend it, which was readily
granted. Probably he was impelled by curiosity, but

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

339

he had cause ever after for gratitude to God for guiding
his steps to Bradley that day. Many years later he
thus writes of Roger Haydock : —

" Though I have had many instructors in Christ, yet I
have not many fathers ; for in Christ Jesus was I begotten, by
him through the Gospel and the operation of the Holy
Spirit, which did effectually open a door of entrance in my
heart, as it opened a door of utterance unto him. . . ."

He goes on to say how his soul now became " in
love" with righteousness and with those who exemplified
it, most of all with Roger Haydock himself, with whom
after a while he had the satisfaction of becoming more
closely acquainted, and found that it was the chief aim
of his life to labour for the spreading of Christ's
Kingdom amongst men. William Ellis's own history
of the change wrought in him, by means of the ministry
of Roger Haydock, is fully endorsed by his mistress,
Abigail Stott, who felt sure, on bis return from Bradley
meeting, that some great change had passed over him —
an opinion amply confirmed by three years of daily
intercourse. She did not doubt that he had realised
the prophet's words : " The Lord whom ye seek shall
suddenly come to His temple ; . . . and He shall sit as
a refiner and purifier of silver, and He shall purify the
sons of Levi, and purge them as gold and silver, that
they may offer unto the Lord an offering in righteous-
ness."

Although he had been very frivolous in his tastes and
pursuits, he now became remarkable for the watchful-
ness which regulated his words and actions ; and his
influence over the children and servants of the house-
hold was of great value. The steadfastness of his faith

340

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

was, moreover, not unfrequently put to the test of per-
secution, of which however only one instance seems to
be recorded ; it is of his being violently laid hands on,
when on his way to a meeting, and confined in the Skip-
ton tolbooth.

At the age of twenty-one William Ellis took up his
residence in the village of Airton, and soon afterwards
found that the Lord was calling him to advocate His
cause as a Gospel minister. At this time he found a
wise, faithful, and tender counsellor in John Wynn,
a Friend, whose ministry had been greatly blessed to
him at an early period of his renewed life. His young
heart — suddenly awakened to the truth that the things
that are seen are temporal, whilst the things that are
unseen are eternal — was just in a state to be deeply
impressed by a simple illustration from Job, made
use of by John Wynn ; and the more so that his own
employment would both show him its force and keep
it in his memory. " All should prize their time,"
said the minister, "for it is as swift as a weaver's
shuttle."

After an interval of nineteen years, in a letter to this
Friend, William Ellis says that this figure dwelt in his
mind as much as ever. "I plainly see," he writes, " that
there must be devout faithfulness when time is truly
prized; and oft I say if I had it to spend over again I could
spend it to better advantage. However, the Lord is a God
of great kindness and tender mercy, and delights to see
judgment work out into victory, and that the hearts of
His people should be freely willing to venture all for
His name, even soul, body and substance. In all the
good that is come upon me every way I do not give the

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FKIENDS.

341

honour to that which some call good luck, hut only to
that great Name that is over all powers."

John Wynn left the army and became a Friend when
about six-and-twenty, having received deep religious
impressions in a meeting at Pall Mall ; and, literally
laying down his arms whilst standing in the ranks at a
review, he afterwards had his discharge and settled at
Bradford as a clothier. A soldier now, under the Cap-
tain who goes forth conquering and to conquer, he sought
with unwearied zeal to fulfil the ministry which he had
received, and though suffering deeply from persecution,
visited most of the counties of England and Wales.
His wife, Deborah Wynn, was also a minister, and, as
meetings were regularly held at their house, they were
the especially chosen victims of informers, and three
times all their property of any worth was seized.

On one of these occasions John Wynn, when return-
ing from market, had his horse, goods and overcoat
taken from him ; on arriving at home he found his shop
cleared of its stock and his house of its furniture, with
the exception of the bed occupied by his wife and new-
born infant, and which would have been also taken but
for the interference of humane neighbours. Some of
these, when they heard him speak of laying out the
little money left him in goods for his shop, begged him
not to take such a course, saying it was manifest that
his persecutors we bent on ruining him. He answered
that he was not at all disheartened, they could take no
more than all, and he believed " they would be limited in
the Lord's time ; " and so it proved. His wife had been
early inured to similar trials : an only child, at the age
of fifteen she carried on her parents' business whilst they

342

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

were prisoners for conscience' sake at York, whither she
walked — a distance of twenty -two miles — once a fort-
night to visit them and give them the amount she had
earned. Two or three years later her ministry, which
was to be of sixty-four years' duration, had commenced*
She long out-lived her husband, beloved and respected
in her own neighbourhood ; her " heart and house "
were ever open to entertain those who were travelling
in the service of the Lord, and many of the early minis-
ters of the Society she numbered amongst her friends.
In her old age she spoke of the great cause she had for
praising God who had upheld her in all her troubles.
John Wynn died in 1699, after a short illness, during
which he earnestly exhorted those who visited him to
" stand faithful unto the Lord."

How highly Ellis had valued his friendship we may
learn from allusions in letters received by him, as well
as from his own pen. John Tomkins writes : — " I can-
not blame thee for mourning the loss of a good man.
Good men are too few everywhere. God complained in
old time that the righteous were taken away, and no man
regarded it or laid it to heart. The Lord help thee in thy
service for Him, and stand by thee if He takes away thy
outward helps."

Another correspondent acknowledges the receipt of
two letters " about thy sorrowful exercises on parting
with thy ancient friend, counsellor and comforter ; "
whilst William Ellis himself writes of how his heart was
made willing to receive John Wynn's reproofs and kind
counsel ; and, describing a visit paid shortly before his
death to the neighbourhood of Airton, adds : —

" Oh, what strength, power, and zeal were upon him. . . .

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS. 343

Oh ! the unutterable joy that has filled my heart when I
have remembered him, with many others whom I am satis-
fied did delight to serve God in their day, and followed Him
truly, like the worthies of old. And the sense of this reward
and crown of life being laid up for the faithful, makes my
soul the more earnestly to travel forward. ... So that at
the last upshot of all, through Him that loved me and washed
me from my sins in His own most precious blood, I may
receive a sentence of Well done ! "

When about the age of thirty, William Ellis married
a Friend named Alice Davie, who became a Minister,
and in this capacity, in company with other Friends, not
unfrequently visited various parts of England. No record
it seems was kept of the early itinerant labours to which
her husband felt himself called. Whilst absent on one
of these journeys his spiritual interest was awakened
for the eldest son of his former mistress, Abigail Stott ;
and therefore on his return he paid a visit to the family.
He found Jacob Stott seriously ill, and thought it
right to pray vocally for him ; during that prayer the
young man — who had often confided to his mother the
fear that he was unprepared for death — felt a blessed
hope arise in his soul which, strengthened by a heavenly
earnest, remained unclouded until his death, a fortnight
afterwards.

One of Ellis's friends remarks that, in meetings, he
often " hit the mark " by addressing those altogether
unknown to him as if he had been acquainted with
their spiritual condition. In 1669, two years after his
marriage, William Ellis paid a visit to Cornwall, to which
a Friend of Launceston thus alludes, on the following
New Year's Day : — " Oh, my dear and well-beloved
friend ! I cannot forget the many heavenly opportu-

344 WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

nities wherein we have been comforted and refreshed
together." A letter from another Cornish correspondent,
Thomas Gwin, of Falmouth, congratulates William Ellis
on the birth of his little son, Jonathan, who was
apparently an only child, a treasure which, after a few
months' possession, his parents were called on to resign.
In the same letter Thomas Gwin states that he has been
" exceedingly exercised " by the death of a little daughter,
and adds : —

' ' I have a true unity with thee in thy concern on account
of Friends' children, and a jealousy sometimes on my mind
lest the ensuing generation- — receiving the profession of truth
in a traditional way, and being unacquainted with the wonders
which the Lord has wrought for His exercised people, — may
be ready to sit as those that are at ease in Zion, and trust in
a formal profession."*

In the winter of 1694-5, William Ellis went on a
gospel mission to Ireland, crossing safely to Dublin,
though two Whitehaven ships were taken by a privateer
during the same night. After expressing his belief
that his service would be acceptable to the Lord, for
which his " soul had much travailed," he reminds his
wife to take care of herself ; " first for thy mind, that
thou do not overbow it ; and that thou take care of thy
body that thou do not overwork thyself. ... It is great
ease to my mind that thou parted so freely with me."
A month later he writes an epistle to Settle Monthly

* From Thomas Gwin's MS. Journal we find that a special
meeting for children, in which he was much interested, was held at
Falmouth on Saturdays. In the summer of 1704 he writes : —
" 1 was with the children, and was drawne forth in testimony plaine
and demonstrative, telling them how much more helps they had as
outwardly, to stirre them up than some of us had, and how they, by
waiting and retiring,niight obtain the same inward help we enjoyed."

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

345

Meeting, to which he belonged. In this he advises his
friends to

" meet often together ; and when met, lahour to be rightly-
exercised towards God in your particular gifts, and that none
give way to an indifferent mind or a conceited spirit. . . .
Those who walk in the Truth do receive the goodness of God
when met together ; it is such that take delight to come to-
gether on God's account, and cannot cry, ' My business, my
business ; ' neither will they be hindered by it, for they know
the great business is to increase their strength in the
Truth."

When his Irish labours are nearly ended he writes to
his wife of how wonderfully the Lord had upheld him,
" even as through deep and rough waters," so that he
could exceedingly rejoice. In the following summer
William Ellis received a letter from William Edmund-
son, which afforded him timely aid; for, in allusion
to its arrival, he writes (when answering it three days
after) of being " much better in mind since," . and
of his gratitude to the Lord for still putting it into the
hearts of His servants to animate and advise others.
He also states that for nearly three years, even " before
my son died " — so the infant's death was an epoch in
his life— he had at times felt " a flowing of kindness "
to the inhabitants of the West Indies. And this con-
straining power of the love of Christ was lasting still,
though he admits that he had not yielded to it as he
ought, and that consequently the chastening hand of the
Lord had been so laid on him as to cause the fervent
cry to arise that He would once more allow him to
" stand in His delightful presence, and he would be
willing to run His errands by sea or land." The following
passage from William Edmundson's letter is probably

34b WILLIAM ELLIS AMD HIS FRIENDS.

one of those which came to his correspondent as a word
in season : —

" The Lord's labourers that He hath called into His
vineyard and gifted with His Holy Spirit for the work of
the ministry, are to follow His work and business close, and
finish their work in the daytime. There is need of good
workmen, for the old enemy is hard at work ; and his old
engine is this world and the things and kingdom of it, to
twist and draw men from the Lord's business."

On the day that he received William Ellis's answer
to it, William Edmundson, who was his correspondent's
senior by five-and-twenty years, wrote again, reminding
him that Christ's will and mind are cleared up in His
own time to His servants' understanding that are devoted
to His Anil ; also telling him of the great need of faithful
and skilful labourers on the other side of the Atlantic,
and bidding him " write at lars;e " to him : no doubt he
was deeply interested in the idea that his younger
brother would visit lands on behalf of whose inhabitants
his own heart had been deeply stirred. William Ellis
now replies that God's goodness to him makes him long
to serve Him fully ; and remarks — paradoxically — " I
shall forbear to tell thee the benefit thy letters are to
me." It was about two years after this time that
William Ellis sailed for America. Before leaving home
he had the pleasure of renewed personal intercourse
with William Edmundson, who spent two nights at his
house, and had good service in the neighbourhood." *

* Probably William Edmundson held a meeting in the meeting-
house which William Ellis had lately erected at Airton at his own
expense. It is built of stone, and will contain about one hundred
and fifty persons ; above the door are the initials W.A E. and the
date of its perfect completion (1700). It stands with its back to the
village street, on the other side of which William Ellis built his own

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

347

The people who resided near the village sometimes
came with eagerness to the meeting now held there,
which was visited by many ministers. " So I am in
great hopes," writes William Ellis, " great part of our
valley will be convinced ; and if they will not be con-
verted the fault will be their own."

Up to this time he seems to have attended the
meeting held at Kilston. It was in the early part of
the winter of 1697 that he sailed for America, in
company with Aaron Atkinson, a remarkable minister,
then about thirty-two. Just before leaving England
they received a letter from John Tomkins, the compiler
of the three first parts of " Piety Promoted," asking
them to visit some relatives of his in West Jersey, and
encouraging them to put their whole trust in Him on
whose errand they were going : " I believe you have
tried the name of the Lord, and found it to be shot-
proof," he writes ; " it is the whole armour of God."

At this time John Tomkins was about thirty-four,
and in the following year began to speak as a minister ;
he had lost his father in early childhood, but was very
carefully brought up by his mother. As he grew older
he delighted in searching the Scriptures ; and one of
his publications, in after years, was on " The Harmony
of the Old and New Testaments." His affectionate
and sympathising disposition found a field of action in
aiding his step-father and half-brothers and sisters,

substantial dwelling in farm-house fashion : in the front, above a
doorway, now walled up, is the date 1G90, and the initials, W.A.E. ;
the same letters are to be seen over the wide arch around the fire-
place, in the comfortable room which no doubt answered many pur-
poses besides that of kitchen. A little further up the street William
Ellis mounted a sun-dial on a pillar.

348 WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

who were in very reduced circumstances, as well as in
visiting and relieving others who might be afflicted in
mind, body, or estate. His heart had early responded
to the alluring influence of a Saviour's love ; even when
a boy he felt a warm affection for the ministers with
whom he came in contact, and in after life could say
that he had dedicated his whole strength and time to
the honour and service of God. When on his death-
bed, at the age of forty-three, he said, " I have seen
great things since my sickness, things which I think
not lawful to be spoken." And after referring to the
sweet peace granted him by his Saviour, he added,
" Oh, the love of the Lord Jesus Christ is great to
mankind ! "

Before leaving London for Deal, William Ellis and
Aaron Atkinson had, we learn, " a fine time " in that
city, where they were also encouraged by the sympathy
of their friends and the prayers of the Church; so that
William Ellis wondered at the entire willingness he
felt to leave what was nearest and dearest to him,
though he knew that this ready compliance was " God's
work " and not his own. Before his long absence he
wrote to a friend of his at Skipton on behalf of his " old
dame," Abigail Stott, now a widow, and in pecuniary
difficulties. His generous and kindly disposition, yielded
to the guidance of his Lord, made him an effectual
helper to those who were in outward want, whilst it
also enabled him to sympathise with the hungry and
thirsty in spirit. To himself, his wife says, it was " as
meat and drink to serve the Lord and His people."
The scant details to be found of William Ellis's life are
chiefly those recorded in his correspondence, but a few

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

349

brief memoranda were made by him during his outward
voyage. He thus writes : —

" Eleventh Month 9fh, 1697-8. — We had a meeting, and
through deep travail of mind the Lord answered, and rilled
my heart with the sense of the good things of His kingdom.
. . . Now I see it is easy to drink the cup of sweetness and
comfort, and many will be thankful to retain it ; but to
drink a bitter cup of exercise at the Lord's hand many are
unwilling ; yet it is good to labour to take it thankfully at
the hand of the Lord : for those that do so in patience may
be sure that the Lord will give them to drink of the cup of
consolation."

The voyage was a perilous one, and the vessel nar-
rowly escaped being wrecked when only two miles
from Virginia. Very soon after landing the ministers
set to work, and William Ellis's heart overflowed with
gratitude and joy for opportunities granted and ability
given to declare the tidings of salvation. And this
blessed beginning to his labours confirms his trust that
God will still afford him the aid of "His good presence,
which has been," he writes, " my chiefest pleasure for
many years. 1 often think in my heart that all is too
little that I can do for the worthy name of God." Whilst
surrounded by fresh scenes and interests the members
of his own meeting are by no means lost sight of.

Only three days after writing his first American
letter to his wife, he begins an epistle to the Monthly
Meeting at Settle, in a postscript to which he asks his
friends, when gathered together and feeling the Lord's
power, to pray that he may be kept from dangers of
every kind. In Virginia the travellers found many in a
state of indifference, owing, William Ellis believed,
to their own unwatchfulness, and to the absence of

350

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

religions visits : indeed their hearts began to warm
under the genial influence of the ministry of Aaron
Atkinson and himself.

Whilst in Virginia his life was in great danger,
from a sudden squall whilst out in a boat. After
telling Alice Ellis of this adventure, he adds : " Here
is much travel by water, but I will take what care
I can, and the rest must be committed to God."
Meanwhile she cheers him by the invigorating tone
of her letters, never doubting that the Lord, who had
hitherto helped them, would still be their all-sufficient
strength. " So, my dear love," she writes, " though we
be far distant in body, yet, as we keep in the universal
love of God, we are present in spirit and as near as
ever. I cannot word the nearness I feel in remem-
brance of thee, which many times causes my soul to
rejoice." And then she wins one's heart by the un-
selfish expression of her fear lest he should be " drawn
homeward over soon," and of her earnest hope that
he will be "very careful to mind the drawing of
the Father's love. When in sleep," she continues,
"methought I had been talking with thee, and saying,
' Take thy time, and perform thy service fully. Take
no care of me as for outward things.' " Another of her
letters is thus ended : " I daily feel the shedding
abroad of the love of God to fill my soul and to over-
come my spirit, so that He makes up all wants, on all
hands, on every account : such are His doings to those
that serve Him with a willing mind. ... So, my dear
love, let not the care thou hast for me lie over hard
upon thee ; only remember me in that bond which
cannot be broken. And in this inexpressible love do I

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

351

remain thy true and loving wife." We cannot wonder

when her husband reminds her that he has ever found

her true in his greatest trials.

Whilst the travellers were in North Carolina, some

negroes were deeply impressed by their ministry.

Amongst the numerous letters which followed Ellis to

the New World — so much further off in those days than

in our own, excepting only the numeration of miles— were

two or three from a Friend of Airton named Adam

Squire. He was probably several years younger than

William Ellis, who reminds him in a letter that he has told

him of things for his good, as if" thou badst been my son.

And still," he adds, "my counsel is to thee, to hold on in

every good work, and let everybody have the benefit of

thy love to the Truth." To his wife William Ellis

writes : " I cannot express the good I had by Adam

Squire's letter ; tell him I say not much, but my deep

desires are that he may be kept safe from the hurtful

things of this world." Adam Squire wrote, it would

seem, with the twofold aim of animating his friend by

the manifestation of his deep spiritual sympathy, and of

appealing to him for his prayerful aid.

" My friend, whom I dearly love," he says, " in the ever-
lasting Truth, I beg it of thee to pray unto the Lord in the
secret of thy heart, that I may be preserved out of the snares
of death. ... 0 that thou would call to mind when thou
wast beset, as it were, with enemies within and without !
and as thou patiently waited upon the Lord how He in His
due time wrought thy deliverance every way ; so that now
thou art become free to the commonwealth of Israel; and
then thou mayst remember me before the great Lord. . . .
I cannot word my desires in this respect, but believe thou
hast a feeling sense of my condition, and that to thy private
supplications the Lord will say, Amen."

352

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

Before attending the General Yearly Meeting for
Pennsylvania, William Ellis and Aaron Atkinson were
present at a meeting of Ministers and Elders, of a week's
duration*

Two other English Friends attended this meeting,
Mary Rogers and Elizabeth Webb. The latter had
been brought up as a member of the Church of Eng-
land, and went to a school kept by a clergyman,
who was very kind to her, and whom she greatly
loved and respected ; indeed, in her childhood, she
thought that ministers of religion " resembled angels
bringing glad tidings to the children of men." She was,
therefore, perplexed when, at the age of fourteen, she
noticed the frivolous conversation of the chaplain of
a knight, in whose family she then resided. At this
time she was earnestly longing for an assurance of
salvation : she thought of the promises made at her
baptism, that she should renounce the devil and all his
works, and the pomps and vanities of this wicked world
— which had many attractions for her young heart —
and felt her utter . powerlessness to keep such vows.
Whilst seeking for aid from the Scriptures, she was
struck by Christ's injunction, " Freely ye have received,
freely give," as well as by the declaration that those

* In William Ellis's memoranda of this meeting, the following
passages occur : — " Friends being met together, and the Lord's
power and presence eminently attending the meeting, divers testi-
monies and cautions were delivered. . . . Whereas it was the way
of the world to forget God, yet the Lord had gathered us to Himself,
that we could not forget Him ; for though we came poor and empty
together, the Lord met us with a full hand. . . . The wisdom of God
was to be waited for, therefore Friends were cautioned to wait for it
in silence. . . . None should go before or stay behind the power of
that which had called them."

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS. 353

who run when the Lord has not sent them should not
profit the people at all. Child as she was, she pondered
these things, and when reading Ezekiel xxiv. found
much comfort in her soul- weariness from the promise
that God will " bind up that which was broken, and will
strengthen that which was sick." She thought of how
gladly she would have followed the Eedeemer had she
lived in the daj's when He was personally on earth ;
not knowing, at this early period of life, the present and
far greater privilege, open to the true follower of Christ,
of union with his risen Lord. The views which she had
learnt from the Bible with regard to ministry led her
to the belief that she ought to give up her attendance
at church ; yet, perhaps, from a fear of the surprise or
displeasure of her friends, she did not act on this con-
viction, until driven to do so by her dread of what
might be the consequence of a persistent disobedience
to what she now felt was the will of God concerning
her. Perhaps the unusual course she took was passed
lightly over as a girlish whim ; at all events, we are not
told that it brought her into trouble. It was, we may
believe, a hard trial, also, to give heed to the heavenly
voice, which called her to forsake vain habits and
worldly society, until she realised that a Saviour's love
could far more than make up for all she might abandon
at His bidding. " 0 Lord," was her frequent prayer,
" preserve me in Thy fear and in Thy truth ; show me
Thy way, and make known Thy mind and will unto
me. 0 Lord, where dost Thou feed Thy flock ? "

It is easy to imagine that in those days, as she her-
self says, "she walked alone." Three or four years
earlier she had once or twice attended a Friends' meet-

2 A

354 WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

ing, and now some of the words of a minister to whom
she then listened came freshly to her remembrance.
The mental development during this interval — for she
was now about sixteen — and above all the teaching of
the Holy Spirit, of which she had availed herself, led
her to recognise the agreement between the teaching of
the New Testament, and the leading views of 'Friends,
which she more clearly understood after reading a little
book on the subject. But the false pleasures with which
the subtle enemy once more endeavoured to allure her
from a steadfast adherence to Christ, had not yet lost
their power to charm, and she tried to persuade herself
that she might retain them a little longer, and yield a
whole-hearted allegiance to God when she grew older.

This change in her feelings was, no doubt, in the
first place, the result, and in the second, the continuing
cause, of the relinquishment of her recent serious habits ;
for she writes, " I let go my exercise of watching and
praying, and left off retirement. Pride and vanity grew
up again ; the Divine, sweet, meek, loving Spirit with-
drew, and 1 could not find it again when I pleased
although I did seek it sometimes ; for I could have been
pleased with the sweet comforts of His love, yet I did
not like to bear the daily cross." She believed that the
Friends frequently tasted the sweetness of the love of
God in their meetings, and sometimes went a consider-
able distance in order to attend one, yet could not find
the comfort she yearned for. By bitter experience she
learnt that no man can serve two masters, and her
distress was often great ; but when about nineteen she
took the blessed resolution to give herself up into the
hands of God : " 0 Lord, if I perish it shall be at the

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

355

gate of Thy mercy. I will give up my soul, my life,
and all into Thy holy hand ; do Thy pleasure hy me.
Thy judgments are just, for I have slighted Thy sweet
love."

Such an abandonment of her all to Infinite Love,
Infinite Power, and Infinite Wisdom, could not be in
vain ; the heart, which to herself had seemed so hard,
was broken, and once more she rejoiced in a Saviour's
mercy. But, for the fulfiment of the purposes of His
own good pleasure concerning her, and, it may be for
the sake of those whom she should influence in future
years, the Lord saw good to try her faith yet further
and more deeply.

" 'Twas hard the unbroken dark to bear,
But harder still re-gathering night."

As in countless instances before her day, and since,
" The Lord was near, hit she knew it not." Her anguish
was intensified by the temptation to question the truths
recorded in the sacred Scriptures, because she could not
understand them, forgetting the impossibility of the
Infinite being clearly comprehended by the finite. " The
world by wisdom knew not God," and how many, even
of powerful intellect have been well content to say —

" I am not skilled to understand
"What God has willed, what God has planned,
I only know at His right hand

Stands One who is my Saviour,

" ' I take God at His word ' and deed,
Christ died to save me — thus I read,
And in my heart I find a need

Of Him to be My Saviour."

But, as one who trod a similar path fifty years earlier

356

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

has said — " A storm lasteth but for a time, and winter
is but for a season, and the night remains not always."
After a while a wonderful measure of heavenly love,
life, and light, was granted her. She saw clearly that,
" purifying, saving faith, is the gift of God, and the
very spring and vital principle of it Divine love." And
such was her sense of this love that she could covenant
with her Lord to lay down her life for Him, if such
were His will ; yet even now the enemy would fain
have caused her to stumble in the path of daily self-
denial. But grace was granted her to bear each cross
imposed by One who knows how to adapt His discipline
to the varied wants of His children, who are no more
skilled in choosing crosses for themselves than in direct-
ing their steps aright, but whose aim should be to
yield themselves wholly to the transforming hand of
i the Lord who died for them.

"When she reviewed this portion of her life, whilst
never in the least questioning that the love of the world
and the indwelling of the love of the Father are in-
compatible, and believing that every son and daughter
whom He receives He chastens, tries, and proves — she
yet does not hesitate to say : " If it please the Almighty
to accept of souls without leading them through such
fiery trials as He brought me through, or without
requiring such things of them as He required of me,
far be it from me to judge that such have not known
the Lord, or the indwellings of His love, if the fruits
of the spirit of Jesus be plain upon them."

And now the time was come when she did indeed, to
use her own forcible expression, " reap the benefit of the
end of the coming of Christ, . . . who said, ' I am come

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS EMENDS. 357

that they might have life, and that they might have it
more abundantly.' " Constrained by this love, she
found it to be her duty to kneel in the congregation of
His people to acknowledge His great goodness, and to
ask for its continuance, and afterwards felt as if her
soul were in a better world, so " enlightened and enli-
vened " was it by the love of God. Even the " fragrant
herbs and beautiful innocent flowers had a speaking-
voice " to her ; the judgments of God had become sweet,
and she was led to bid others " prove the Lord by an
obedient, humble, innocent walking before Him, that
they might see that He would pour out of His spiritual
blessings in so plentiful a manner that the overflowings
would return to Him who is the Fountain." Although
the sweet consciousness of her Lord's presence might
for a while be withdrawn, when the light of His coun-
tenance again shone on her, He seemed to be nearer
than before ; and her soul, she says, loved to dwell with
Him, although He is a consuming fire to the corrupt
nature of the old man ; words which may recall Whit-
tier's lines : —

" Thou judgest us : Thy purity
Doth all our lusts condemn :
The love that draws us nearer Thee
Is hot with wrath to them."

She' was also learning that " the finite yearning after
the Infinite heart " need never be in vain, and that the
soul that is born of God may be daily brought into
a closer communion with Him, " breathing to Him as
constantly by prayer as the sucking child when it is
born into the world doth draw in and breathe out the
common air. ... It is a certain sign to me," she con-

358

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

tiuues, " of the Divine life and health of a soul if I find
it sweetly breathing unto the Lord, and hungering and
thirsting after His righteousness."

As Elizabeth Webb was one day sitting in a meeting
for worship, waiting on the Lord for the renewal of
spiritual strength, a passage of Scripture afresh applied
to her soul by the Holy Spirit afforded her extreme
consolation. And from that hour there was granted her,
she says, " a more abundant entrance into the heavenly
kingdom." Nor need we regard this as a mere mystical
pbrase, for is it not easy to imagine that problems,
unsolved by the wise and prudent, as to whether " the
heavenly places" (Eph. ii. 6) — to quote Dean Alford's
words — " are to be taken as present or future, actual or
potential, literal or spiritual, will be easily disposed of
by those who have apprehended the truth of the
believer's union in and with Christ " ?

Her first ministerial journey was to the North of
England, and spiritual conflicts were often her portion,
although the guidance of her steps by her gracious
Lord seemed to be as clear as the pointing of the needle
of a compass. In the summer of 1697, whilst in the meet-
ing at Gloucester, where she then resided, her heart was,
in a time of stillness, remarkably drawn out towards the
inhabitants of America, and overcome by the love of God
under the influence of which she knelt to offer prayer
on their behalf. By night and day the subject rested
on her mind, peace or sorrow following her in turn,
as she either mentally gave herself up to cross the
ocean at the bidding of her Lord, or yielded to fears
of her unfitness for the mission. Her husband was at
first unwilling that she should visit such a distant

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS. 359

land, and she told him she would not do so without his
free consent ; but when she became ill of a violent
fever he granted the longed-for permission, saying it
would be easier to part with her for seven years than to
have her taken from him for ever ; and a few months
later she sailed from Bristol, with a Friend named Mary
Eogers. It was in the following year that William
Ellis met with them, at the Philadelphia Yearly
Meeting, as already stated. Ten years later John and
Elizabeth Webb settled in Pennsylvania ; but in 1712
she returned to Great Britain for awhile, on a Gospel
mission.

William Ellis and Aaron Atkinson next visited New
England, where the former, in the midst of mucb
physical weakness, found the Lord to be his strength,
though sometimes greatly troubled by the thought of
what his wife's distress would be should he not live to
return to her. His heart must have been gladdened,
twelve months afterwards, to learn from a letter signed
by fourteen New England Friends that a great blessing
had rested on the labours of his companions and himself.
To John Wynn he writes, from Philadelphia : " The
Lord had grafted that care on my heart to supplicate
Him daily for new supplies. I see little to boast of,
unless it be weakness : and, as I have travelled in a
sense of these things, the Lord hath wonderfully assisted
my spirit." Before leaving that city for his return
voyage, in a letter to a friend who had shown him kind
hospitality, he says : " I believe the love of God is much
towards thee, and if thou mind the Word that is
ingrafted in thy heart it will open thy understanding
in things pertaining to thy salvation ; and, let men say

360 WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

of it what they will, I do know that it is the leaven of
the kingdom."

Whilst rejoicing to be homeward-hound, William
Ellis must have felt that he was leaving behind him
not a few from whom his spirit could never be
separated ; for, doubtless, the thoughts expressed by
them were mutual. " I shall have that spiritual en-
joyment of thee," writes Phineas Pemberton (at one
time a member of Council and Speaker of the Assembly
of Pennsylvania), " of which the saints in fellowship are
made partakers, and wherein we are often comforted in
those dear remembrances." Whilst another says : " I
could not well omit to signify my true love to thee, and
unity with that measure of the blessed, holy power,
which I have had a sense of as attending thy ministry ;
and thy plain doctrine ; and of thy promoting true
spiritual and inward worship to God." An extract from
one more farewell note must suffice : " Dear heart, our
spirits go along with thee, and love follows, and melts
and runs towards thee ; but it is for His sake who sets
the fountain open : for His love's sake we love thee."

At a later date, Nathan Newby, of Nancemund,
remarks, in a letter in which he tells William Ellis
that for the two preceding years he had felt it his duty
to testify publicly for God : " 0, that I could have a
time with thee, if it cost me the travelling some
hundreds of miles ! " William Ellis's deep interest
in the welfare of the cause of Christ in the New World
is manifested in letters to his brethren there, one of
whom he thus counsels : —

" Stir about now and then, and see how Friends meet on
week-days ; and when thy spirit is full of lite and sweetness,

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

3G1

if thou drop a word or two amongst Friends, I do think it
will be to profit. . . . Put Friends in mind to visit John
Lewis's meeting now and then. . . . My soul — 0, my soul
within me is in a deep travail for your growth in the most
precious truth ! "

He afterwards expresses his desire " that all who feel
God's word like a fire in their hearts may run to and
fro to spread the truth." Again, his concern for some,
probably, small meetings is evinced by his advice that
those to whom he was writing should " now and then
step down to Potomac, and sit amongst the poor people
there," whose hearts would thus, he believes, be com-
forted, even if no word were spoken among them ;
and also suggests that " sometimes one and sometimes
another should run over to the Bay," taking some
ministers with them. To such service as this, he
believed, the Lord would say, " Well done ! "

Aaron Atkinson did not return to England until the
early part of 1700. William Ellis and himself had
frequently parted from each other whilst in America,
for the better accomplishment of their mission ; and
also in consequence of the severe illness of the latter,
who tells William Ellis, in a note written soon after
landing in England, that he could not forget the sad
expression of his face at the time of this trial, and that
he believed the prayers he then offered had availed
before God. He adds : " I came over in the same ship
thou earnest in, and lay in the same cabin thou lay in ;
and I loved it the better for thy sake."

In 1702, William Ellis had some property left him
by a Friend named Jennet Stow, whose home was not
far from Airton. She became a minister in early life,
and visited many parts of Great Britain and Ireland.

362 "WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FKIENDS.

At the age of thirty she died of consumption, at Dron-
field, in Derbyshire, and was attended in her last illness
by a physician named Gilbert Heathcot, who much
esteemed his young patient, and remarked that she was
helpful to him in her life and death. As her end drew
nigh she spoke of the blessedness of living near the Lord,
and of how her heart was warmed by His goodness :
" Lord, Thou hast turned me every way ; Thou hast
made me what Thou wouldst have me to be. Praised
be Thy holy name ! " She said that God had indeed
fulfilled the promise which she believed was made her
when, in her weakness, she had been ready to shrink
from the mission set before her : " Be not afraid ; for,
though thou art weak, yet I am strong ; and I will
make thee a trumpet in my hand which shall give a
certain sound."

In 1705, Ellis writes to tell William Edmundson of
the death of a young Friend, to whom they were both
attached. " I am touched with sorrow at my very heart,"
"William Edmundson replies, " for the loss of dear Isaac
Alexander. . . . The Lord's mighty power accompanied
his testimony. "We travelled together in sweet unity,
and parted in that love and life that death and the
grave cannot overcome." Isaac Alexander had sent
several letters to his aged friend, and had asked him to
bequeath him some written counsel, not foreseeing that
his own pilgrimage would be ended first. At his earliest
visit to the home of William and Alice Ellis he had
found his " very soul knit and united to them ; " and
in a letter to the former he expresses his hope for the
life-long increase of" the living, feeling enjoyment of this
hearty, spiritual nearness, and heavenly gospel fellow-

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

363

ship." His ministry began in his seventeenth year, and
in the course of his short life he travelled extensively,
visiting all the meetings of Friends in Scotland and
Ireland, and most of those in England and Wales. He
died at the age of twenty-five, and during his last illness,
often alluded to the Lord's abounding mercy to him.
" Oh ! what an excellent thing it is," he said, " to keep
in the truth and visit one another in the life of it. . . .
Love God ; love God ; you can never love God too
much. Oh ! what hath He done for my soul. I have
seen glorious things, yea, such things as I never saw
before. I beheld a Friend, lately deceased, in a glorious
place, and that I was to be with him ; and I said, it is
enough to be there ; oh ! such salvation." His prayer
for " an easy passage out of the world," was granted,
his dying words being, " Now I will fall upon my sleep."

After William Ellis's return from America his mis-
sions were chiefly confined to his own county and those
immediately around it, although he often attended the
London Yearly Meeting. During the last few years,
especially, of his life he suffered acutely from the malady
which terminated his life in 1709, when in his fifty-first
year. Yet not many weeks before his death he took
advantage of a slight improvement in health to attend
a Yearly Meeting at Lancaster ; at its close a remarkable
meeting was held, when the Almighty Head of the
Church manifestly reigned over those assembled, con-
straining many of His children to speak well of His
name. A Friend from Wales, who was present, says : —

" A sweet, pure current of life largely flowed through the
meeting. . . . William Ellis had a blessed opportunity, and
was carried on in the power aud life of truth, even beyond a

364

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS.

usual manner. Oh ! metliinks it affects rny heart to remem-
ber the glorious presence of the Lord that appeared with him,
he being full of love, full of zeal, full of courage, and as one
triumphant over the devil and the powers of darkness, and
in the divine region of light and life. This was indeed a
glorious season."

It is traditionally stated that Alice Ellis was absent
from home at the time of her husband's death, having
gone to a distant place to attend a meeting ; and that
after they had parted, he took his stand on some rising
ground that he might keep her in view as long as pos-
sible, having a presentiment that they should not meet
again in this world. On his death-bed, when speaking
to one of his friends of the time of his conversion, he
said, " It was a glorious day for me and I have large
tokens that the day of my death will be so also."

A few years earlier, Ellis had conveyed to trustees
his house and certain lands, directing that after the
death of his wife and himself, they should " farm the
said premises a pennyworth unto Friends, by way of
scorn called Quakers, who should willingly entertain
such teachers as might be called of God, and by Him
commissioned and sent abroad to preach the Gospel in
the free dispensation thereof." After needful deductions
the rents accruing were to be employed for putting out
as apprentices the poor children belonging to York
Quarterly Meeting, and also the children of the poor
" of what profession soever," residing in Airton and
two neighbouring villages.

William Ellis had had many apprentices to linen-
weaving under his care, and his wife and himself were
deeply interested in the welfare of youths of this class.
Alice Ellis also conveyed to trustees a close, called

WILLIAM ELLIS AND HIS FRIENDS. 365

Well dales, a portion of the rents of which was to be
used in paying the future tenant of the house in which
she still lived for the board and lodging of travelling
ministers of the Society of Friends. She arranged that
the creat bedsteads and such other things as were nail-
fast and heirlooms, should remain for the use of the
tenants, that they might the better entertain travelling
Friends.

The house, now inhabited by George Cartwright and
family, is kept hospitably open, but the " six men's
coats and six women's hoods," which Alice Ellis pro-
vided for the use of visitors in rough weather, it has
long been thought needless to renew.

In her sympathetic kindheartedness we find that the
poor widows of Friends are especially borne in mind
in another benefaction. She lived until the year 1720.
Her loss appears to have been widely as well as deeply
felt, for she delighted in showing hospitality, and was
a true friend to the poor, freely dispensing what had
been acquired by patient industry. She was a very
regular attendant of meetings, and earnestly longed for
the advancement of the kingdom of her Lord.

To men and women, such as those who form this
faintly-sketched group, the following quotation seems
applicable whilst revealing the secret of their lives :
" The crowning excellence of their ministry, and that
of every man and woman who faithfully received their
message — and followed, in their measure, where their
leaders guided — was the entire consecration of their
lives, as knowing no aim but the glory of Christ ; and
no happiness which interfered with a constant and
abiding communion with Him."

RICHARD CLARIDQE AND HIg
FRIENDg.

" I thought on Pain and straightway answered Peace ;
On Death, but Life immortal made reply ;
The tears of sorrow gathered in mine eye,
Only to feel sweet comfort bid them cease ;
Evermore Faith would thoughts of Love increase
Through every cloud still gleamed cerulean sky."

J. E. A. Beown.

369

EICHARD CLABIDGE AND HIS FEIENDS.

" Travellers at night, by fleeing
Cannot run into the day ;
God can lead the blind and seeing ;
On Him wait, and for Him stay :
Be not fearful, be not fearful,
They who cannot sing can pray ! " — T. T. Lynch.

Eakly in the year 1698, good Eicbard Baxter preached
one day in Charter-House-yard, whilst keeping his seat
in the pulpit on account of the feebleness caused rather
by ill-health than old age. Amongst his hearers was a
very talented and highly-educated clergyman, who had
come to London from his Worcestershire rectory with
the hope that the ministry of some celebrated preacher
might afford him the enlightenment, comfort, and help
which his soul had in vain craved for. Baxter gave out
his text : " But the sons of Belial shall be all of them as
thorns thrust away, because they cannot be taken with
hands," etc. (2 Sam. xxiii. 6, 7) — and as these words fell
on the ears of Eicbard Claridge be feared that they were
applicable to himself and was so weighed down with
mental anguish that he was ready to sink under it ; but,
unknown to himself, the everlasting arms were under-
neath.

He was the son of a Warwickshire yeoman, and was
now about forty years of age. At St. Mary's Hall,
Oxford, he had gained a high standing in philosophy,
and as an orator and Greek scholar, — at the age of
twenty-one taking his degree as a Bachelor of Arts.

2 B

i

370

BICHAED CLAIUDGE AND HIS FBIENDS.

Three years later he become rector of Peopleton, where
he kept a grammar school, and prepared pupils for the
Universities. He describes this portion of his life as
being a mixture of vice and virtue. He prepared his
sermons with studious diligence and delivered them
with eloquence, preaching repentence and regeneration
although practically unacquainted with either. Mean-
while, notwithstanding an uneasy conscience, he again
and again yielded to temptation, ignoring the injunction,
" Quench not the Spirit ; " until at length his sins were
so plainly set before him that he became overwhelmed
with fear, and Baxter's sermon, as we have seen, instead
of alleviating, increased his distress.

Nor did he fare better under the teaching of several
clergymen whose churches he attended whilst in London.
One day, indeed, he did expect comfort and cheer, when
the following text was given out, " Lord, Thou wilt
ordain peace for us, for Thou hast wrought all our works
in us," but was bitterly disappointed at only hearing a
long disquisition on the advantages which the nation
had derived from the advent of the Prince of Orange.

O

One cannot, however, be surprised to learn that he found
some consolation from a sermon by an Independent
minister on the text, "In whom we have redemption
through His blood," etc., although much of the address
struck him as being unsatisfactory and irrelevant.

On his return to his parish he prayerfully strove to
lead a godly life, and at the same time began to test the
doctrines and ceremonies of the Church of England by
the standard of the Scriptures, — an examination which
resrdtcd in the conviction that, great as was the cost, he
must renounce the Church of which for nearly twenty

RICHARD CLARIDGE AND HIS FRIENDS. 371

years he had been a highly-esteemed minister. His
prayers for Heavenly guidance and support were granted,
and in the summer of 1691 he resigned the rectory of
Peopleton, his last sermon being on the text, "But in
vain do they worship Me, teaching for doctrines the
commandments of men." He comprised what he had
to say in one proposition — " That all that faith and
worship which men taught for doctrines, and could not
be found in the Scriptures, were the commandments of
men, and was vain worship, and unacceptable before
God ; " pressing his hearers " not to receive things upon
the authority of any, whether kings, parliaments, con-
vocations, or bishops ; but in every article of faith, and
in every part of worship, and every rite, usage, or cere-
mony enjoined, to examine it by the Scriptures, which
are the only revealed rule of faith and practice." He
believed that Divine help was afforded him, and finished
the service with an earnest prayer that his auditory
might be taught of God.

After leaving the Established Church his character
was violently assailed by some who now viewed him as
an enemy. " I stand amazed," he writes, " to think
how the scene is so soon changed, and that I, whilst of
their communion, should pass for a very honest man,
and now should be such a knave as they endeavour to
paint me." He then joined himself to the Baptists,
hoping he says, to find their " doctrine, worship, and
ordinances in all things conformable unto the primitive
pattern of our Lord Jesus Christ and His holy apostles."
But on the day on which he was baptised, as he was
removing his wet garments, he was shocked when some
one who entered the room said, whilst taking off his hat

372

RICHARD CLARIDGE AND HIS FRIENDS.

with sham politeness, " You are welcome, sir, out of one
form into another ! " "These words sank deeply into his
heart, from which secretly arose the bitter cry, " Lord !
what a condition am I in ! Is this all the advance I
have made ? " Yet for a time his doubts were allayed
by some of his Baptist friends, and about twelve months
later he was installed as minister of one of their London
chapels. Talented scholar and eloquent speaker though
he might be, he was already beginning to entertain new
views of the ministry, for about this date he writes,
" It is blessed preaching of the Gospel when Christ in-
spires the preachers, and the sermon is His not theirs.
. . . We may talk an hour or two, but if Christ be not
with us by His Spirit, it is but an useless, empty sound."

In the spring of the following year Richard Claridge
was married to a lady named Mary Tomkins, who was
his third wife. After a while, a longing arose in his
heart for an experimental acquaintance with the baptism
of the Spirit, of which he was now convinced that bap-
tism with water was but a type, a temporary dispensa-
tion belonging to the ministry of John : * for his mind
had been gradually impressed with the belief that the
dispensation of the Gospel is a ministration of the Spirit,
though at first it was merely " a kind of glimmering of
a higher state and a more spiritual worship." His dis-
tress and bewilderment were great, and were increased

* " By the true Baptism of the New Testament we do actually
put on Christ, and are made one with Christ ; and this is not done
by water-washing, but by the Spirit. . . . The Spirit carrying us
into Christ, and bringing Christ into us, and being one and the same
Spirit in both; and this is to be baptised into Christ." — The Doctrine
of Baptisms. By William Dell, Minister of the Gospel, and Master
of Gonvil and Caius College, in Cambridge. 1652.

RICHARD CLAKIDGE AND HIS FRIENDS. 373

even in proportion to the further light which broke on
his soul, and showed him that the question was not one
only of the right way of worshipping, but also of the
qualification of the heart for its right performance ; that
(to quote his own words) " It was not the name of
Christian without the nature, nor the profession of
religion without the possession, that would do ; all must
be parted with that was contrary to the holy will of
God, which is our sanctification ; and that not in
part, but wholly, as the Apostle's prayer was." (1
Thess. v. 23.)

Yet this season of perplexity was also one of bless-
ing, in which William Law's wise words — addressed to
Wesley in his young days — might have been applied to
him : " You are troubled because you do not understand
how God is dealing with you. Perhaps if you did, it
would not so well answer His design. He is teaching
you to trust Him farther than you can see Him" He
sought for solitude, but found that the Lord was near,
and whilst waiting in lowliness of heart upon Him
" the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the
face of Jesus Christ " was graciously granted, and with
heart-tendering power. And now the idea, which had
so strongly impressed his mind, that the dispensation of
the Gospel is a ministration of the Spirit, was made
plain to him as his Saviour enlightened the eyes of his
understanding. " I came to see," he writes, an end of
all former dispensations, as of Moses, the prophets, or
John, which had their time ; or such as men had shaped
and fashioned in their own wisdom. I saw also what
God had to be and remain as the highest dispensation,
the immediate teachings of Christ by the Holy Spirit."

374 RICHARD CLARIDGE AND HIS FRIENDS.

Eichard Claridge now gradually withdrew from the
Baptist community, by many of whose members he was
much beloved, and began to frequent the meetings of
Friends, to which he soon regularly resorted, finding, as
his biographer Besse states, " their ministry to be lively
and edifying, and their meetings attended with the
gracious presence of God, ministering abundant conso-
lation and refreshment to weary and waiting souls."
Several leading men amongst the Baptists retained a
personal regard for him after he became a Friend, and
freely discussed doctrinal points with him. In the
course of a conversation with the pastor of a country
Baptist congregation, who had come to London to visit
Kichard Claridge, the latter observed that the Apostle
Paul grounds his prayer for perfect sanctification upon
the faithfulness of God : " God is faithful who also will do
it." " To walk with God is to walk in the light, as God
is in the light. And he that walketh in the light, the
blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth him from all sin. The
question is not whether good men are not liable to com-
mit sin, which I do not deny, but whether good men
have not been freed from sin ? "

A few days later we find him at the meeting held at
the house of Sarah Sawyer, in Aldersgate Street, during
which he bore witness to the grace of God in his own
experience ; thus for the first time speaking in a meet-
ing of Friends. He was soon afterwards much cheered
by a visit from an aged minister named Francis Cam-
field, who spoke of how those who knew something of
the work of the Lord should be instrumental in His
hand to edify one another in their most holy faith, and
counselled him " to wait in the strength of the Lord,

RICHARD CLARIDGE AND HIS FRIENDS. 375

and to take heed of making haste." Richard Claridge
was greatly comforted by his interview with this vene-
rable Friend, who spoke also of how the Lord taught all
true Christians to overcome. They did not part until
eight p.m., when Richard Claridge accompanied him to
his house in Bartholomew Close. He was likewise much
helped by visits made him from time to time by a large
number of other Friends. George Whitehead, after
hearing from his own lips many details of the Lord's
dealings with him, cordially encouraged him to press
forward in the path of the just. A week later, Thomas
Story, Gilbert Molleson, and Aaron Atkinson spent
some hours with him. It is recorded by some of
Aaron Atkinson's contemporaries that the Lord anointed
him "for the ministry in early life in a very extra-
ordinary manner;" and as he was now on the eve
of embarking for America, in company with William
Ellis, a fervent prayer arose in Richard Claridge's heart-
that he might have a favourable voyage, and that his
Transatlantic labours micdit be crowned with the. bless-
ing of the Lord.

About this time, when writing of the ministry, Claridge
remarks : — " The apostles of Christ did not preach in
their own wills. . . . When they preached, they spake
as the oracles of God, according to the measure and
ability He gave. . . . We must be still and silent be-
fore the Lord, and wait for the drawings and influences
of the Holy Spirit, and feel the constrainings of His
power."

Towards the end of the following year, Richard
Claridge went one day to Newington to attend the first
Friends' meeting held there, and thus missed a visit

376 RICHARD CLAHIDGE AND HIS FRIENDS.

from Mary Gulson, of Coventry, who spent some time
in prayer with his wife and a few other Friends. He
had already reaped great advantage from the counsel of
this experienced Christian, and on the following evening
he went to Lawrence Lane, to call at the house where
she was staying. The interview was a blessed one,
their heavenly converse being sweetened by the clear
consciousness that their Lord hearkened and heard.
Eichard Claridge, whilst unable to control his deep
emotion, told his faithful friend of his spiritual trials
and perplexities, and she replied, that before coming to
London on this religious mission she had apprehended
his condition, and had believed that it was the Lord's
will that she should especially visit him and one other
Friend. She encouraged him to believe that God was
leading him on in the right way, and would make him
a minister of His everlasting Gospel. He asked her to
pray for him, to wrestle with the Lord that he might
be kept by His mighty power, through faith, unto sal-
vation. They parted, we read, " in the great love of
God, and in a deep sense of His wonderful power." On
the same day he writes : — " Blessed be the God of my
life, His succours and refreshments have been greater
than my exercises and temptations. Sometimes the
thoughts of death have awakened me ; ' What ! be idle
and do nothing for God ! I will put a spirit of life into
thee, and put My words into thy mouth, and thou shalt
be my instrument to turn many from darkness to light ! '
But then it would open in me again, ' The time is not
yet come. God is faithful who hath promised, and will
perform His promise ; yet the times and seasons He hath
put in His own power.' "

RICHARD CLARIDGE AND HIS FRIENDS. 377

A year or two later he sent Mary Gulson some copies
of his recently-published work, " Mercy Covering the
Judgment Seat," apparently a record of the Lord's
gracious dealings with himself. He wished to have
these books distributed amongst the Baptists residing at
Coventry. The parcel was accompanied by a letter in
which he remarks : "It is a very precious and com-
fortable thing to walk in the light as God is in the light.
. . . In this Divine light wherein we have been enabled
to believe, we see and enjoy the pure living presence of
the Lord our God ; and therein our fellowship stands ;
. . . though we are many members, and may be bodily
absent from one another, yet we are spiritually present
in the Divine light and life of Jesus, who hath baptised
us by one Spirit into the one body. . . . What I have
enjoyed of His presence in times past is not sufficient
food for my soul now ; and therefore my soul waits in
humility before Him to feel the rising of His living power
to tender my heart before Him, and to make and keep me
alive unto Him. ... A glorious and lasting dispensation
hath commenced and taken place, which is Christ in us
the hope of glory. And I testify that neither Christ
Himself in the flesh, barely, nor the Holy Scriptures,
though given by inspiration of God, nor any outward
ordinances whatsoever, are the true rest of the people of
God : but Christ Jesus in His inward, spiritual appear-
ance in our hearts to be our light, life, and hope of glory."*

* Fletcher of Macleley, writes in a somewhat similar strain in
reply to a letter from Lady Mary Fitzgerald : " ' Not a text,' say
you, ' came to me, only I knew none perished at His feet ; ' then
you remembered Christ, the sum and substance of all the Scriptures;
then you believed on Him in whom all the sweetest texts and all
the promises are Yea and Amen."

378

RICHARD CLARIDGE AND HIS FRIENDS.

In this year, 1700, Claridge removed to Barking,
Essex, and there opened a boarding-school, and was soon
occupied in visiting some of the meetings in the south-
eastern counties. He was accompanied in part of this
service by Christopher Meidel, a Norwegian, who had
come to England as chaplain to Prince George of Den-
mark, but had about two years earlier united himself to
Friends ; a long practical acquaintance with the work
of God in the soul of man seems to have remarkably
qualified him to minister to the needs of others.*
Throughout their ministry they were aided and upheld
by the power and presence of their Lord.

At Watford they were most heartily and hospitably
entertained at the house of Alice Hayes, where they

* In the unpublished journal of Thomas Gwinn, of Falmouth,
there are interesting allusions to Christopher Meidel. In 1707,
Thomas Gwinn met with him at Liskeard, where a meeting was held
for the Friends of Devon and Cornwall, and records that Christopher
Meidel spoke in the streets. A few weeks later he writes : " I rid
to Truro with some other Friends to visit Christopher Meidel, who
was brought from prison there to the Quarter Sessions ; he had been
fined £20 by the Sessions before on pretence of disturbing the priest
at Liskeard, and while we were with him was called from us to
attend the Sessions at Truro, where he was ordered to subscribe the
Declaration of Fidelity, but he answered them nothing, so was con-
victed to suffer as a popish recusant convert. He preached through
the streets immediately as he came forth of the Court, as he did
sundry times whilst there. I left with him a paper which I thought
might be of service to him to give in to the justices." In the latter
part of the same year Thomas Gwinn and another Friend visited
Christopher Meidel in Launceston prison. His trials appear at this
time to have caused a morbid state of mind, for T. G. says : " We
used both arguments and persuasion in much tendernesse and plaine
dealing against his working on First-days (as judging it a means to
prejudice people against the reception of our testimony), as also to
diswade him from some other imaginary scruples he seemed to labour
under, as that he must not write or walk out though he had liberty
granted, nor eat some sort of victuals or drinks, nor receive what's
needful for his nourishment." In reference to the Yearly Meeting
of 1708, T. G. writes : " I was at the Meeting for Sufferings, and got
an order for reimbursing our charge on Christopher Meidel."

RICHARD CLAIUDGE AND HIS FRIENDS. 379

lodged for three nights. Like themselves, she had he-
come a Friend from deep religious conviction. She had
been brought up as a member of the Church of Eng-
land ; in early childhood, when supposed to be almost
dying, her mother fervently besought the Lord to take
her own life instead of her child's — a prayer which He
answered, as Alice Hayes remarks, " for what end was
best known to Himself." At the age of sixteen the
harshness of her step-mother led her to leave her home,
and seek a new one in a family whose affection she won,
whilst gladly and conscientiously yielding them her
services. Her fondness for frivolous pursuits, for which
she had often felt herself chidden by a secret voice*
although she knew not whence the warning came, had
now greatly lessened ; she enjoyed reading the Holy
Scriptures, and frequently sought opportunities for pri-
vate prayer, besides diligently attending public worship.
The quietness of her situation was very congenial to
her, and her heart was soothed as she steadily pursued
what she believed to be the right course.

She had on one occasion a remarkable visitation of
Divine love, when she felt that no words were needed,
but that her soul was led into a deep sweet silence be-
fore the Lord. Probably she was not wholly unprepared
for the worship usual amongst Friends, when for the
first time she attended one of their meetings, at the so-
licitation of some of her acquaintance, whose curiosity
had been awakened by the rumour that a lady greatly
esteemed as a preacher in that Society was to be present.
She was affected by her sense of the worship silently
ascending to God from many hearts, as well as by the
ministry she heard, which so sank into her soul that she

380 RICHAKD CLARIDGE AND HIS FRIENDS.

could not keep back her tears. But much of the hal-
lowed influence of this season was soon swept away by
the strong and subtle enemy. She went soon afterwards
to live in the family of a justice of the peace, and her new
mistress would often say, " This Alice will be a Quaker; "
but no such thought dwelt in her own mind.

About two years later her health suffered severely
from the effect of a terrible sprain in the ankle, and
more serious evil befell her from intercourse with
an irreligious family with whom she had found a
temporary situation, whilst her master and mistress
spent the winter in London. As her lameness increased
she had to return to her father's house, and soon found
that sorrow of soul was harder to bear than bodily pain.
She felt that if Christ did not rescue her she was
undone for ever, and earnestly sought to enter into
covenant with Him. Whilst still a cripple supported
on crutches, she was married to " a comely, handsome,
honest man," whose faithfulness and constancy she
does not forget to record, for they had become engaged
in the time of her health and vigour. These blessings
were, however, in a few months' time restored to her ;
her walking powers returned, and she seemed to have
all that heart could wish for.

But prosperity, instead of making her strive with a
grateful heart to live closer to the Almighty Giver of
every good gift, led her to forget Him, until illness
brought her almost face to face with death. Then from
her agonized soul was wrung the cry, " Spare me a little
longer ; try me once more, and I will become a new
creature." / will become a new creature I We see that
she had much yet to learn ; yet doubtless her impor-

RICH Alt D CLARIDGE AND HIS FRIENDS. 381

tunate cry — like every true prayer which ever has been,
or ever will be, offered to God — " came before Him,
even into His ears." Holiness she now saw was what
her Eedeemer called for from her, and she set herself
the task of diligently cultivating it. But she learnt
that this must be the Lord's work, and not hers. She
found also, that during the twenty years she had kept
Him waiting at the door of her heart, " much fuel " had
accumulated for the Refiner's fire. " Oh ! happy man
and happy woman," she writes, " that doth thus abide
the day of His coming ; for sure I am His fan is in His
hand, and if men will but submit when He appears,
He will thoroughly do that for them which no other can
do. This is the baptism that doth people good." Look-
ing back on this portion of her life she saw that a
Saviour's secret hand alone had kept her from despair ;
for she was uncheered by any counsellor such as,
" blessed be God," she writes, " many now have." Week
after week she sorrowfully entered and sorrowfully
cpritted the parish church, finding nothing that would
satisfy the hunger, and allay the thirst of her soul. It
was no marvel that she was sad, for she thought of God
only as dwelling far away in the heavens.

After a while her mind was powerfully impressed
with the belief that it would be right for her to "o to a
Friends' meeting, but the idea of doing so was very
distasteful, and for long she tried to persuade herself
that, as no angel directed her steps, it was needless to
give heed to an inward voice. At last, without telling-
anyone of her design, she went to a small meeting;
where the ministry of a Friend, named Elizabeth
Stamper, came as a heavenly message to her soul

382

RICHARD CLARIDGE AND HIS FRIENDS.

answering its deep need ; as if the speaker, whom she
had never seen until that day, had been well aware of
her spiritual state. She returned home with a joyful
heart, and from that time gave heed to the manifested
will of her Lord, and found that no day passed by
without some consciousness of His presence. She could
now do no other than continue to join in the worship
of Friends, and this led her into much trouble ; even
her husband, being urged to oppose her, treated her
with scorn and hatred, threatening to sell his farm and
leave her ; but nothing could make her swerve from the
path appointed her by Him in whom she had found
the joy of salvation. Her loyalty to her Saviour was
not long allowed to alienate her husband from her ; his
affection returned, and after a while he manifested
some appreciation of the views which were so dear to
his wife.

Alice Hayes became a minister, and, besides visiting
many parts of England, had much valuable service in
Holland and Germany. Her ministry is described as
being very plain and powerful, satisfying the sorrowful
soul, yet applicable to most conditions. Once, after her
husband's death, on account of her conscientious objec-
tion to the payment of tithes, she was taken from her
farm and five fatherless children and imprisoned for
thirteen weeks in St. Alban's Gaol : she was also de-
prived of corn and cattle to the amount of " several
score pounds." Yet from her inmost sonl she could
bless God for counting her worthy to suffer for His
name's sake, and could bear witness that to " as many
as trust in Him, He will give life for the soul and oread
for the body."

RICHARD CLARIDGE AND HIS FRIENDS. 383

" The Son of God," she writes, " is come indeed that we
may have life, and it is in obedience that the aboundings of
it are known. . . . Through His precious blood we have all
these great benefits. Oh ! who would not be a follower of
the Lord 1 Remember that you are soldiers under the ban-
ner of the unconquered Captain, Christ Jesus, who always
stood by His own in every age ; follow Him in all perseve-
rance through good report and bad report, and keep to the
standard — the Spirit of Truth. If you do this you may pray
for what you stand in need of, let it be bread for soul or for
body, or for faith or hope, or courage, or the armour of light,
or whatever else your wants may be. Take courage and ask ;
. . . and for the life which you have lost, which you had in
vanity and evil, you shall find a life a hundredfold exceeding
in peace and inward joy. Oh ! faithful soldiers ! come on.
. . . The effect of the grace and coming of Jesus is indeed to
save people from their sins, and to them that will be His and
believe that He has all power committed to Him in heaven
and earth, — He can and doth give power. More powerful is
Jesus to save than the devil to compel men to sin. . . . Oh !
happy souls, that can thus believe on His name ; these shall
be baptised with Christ's own baptism."

About a month after this visit of Richard Claridge
to Watford, he again went there to attend the funeral
of a relative of Alice Hayes, whose friendship he much
valued. The following extract is from one of his letters
to her : —

" Esteemed Friend, Alice Hayes, — Yesterday my heart
was broken and melted before the Lord, both in silent wait-
ing and testimony, at a little meeting in Larking ; . . .
panting and thirsting after Him, He was pleased to appear in
power and glory. "When I felt myself to be nothing with-
out Him He filled my soul with treasure. . . . My soul
dearly salutes thee, and cries to the God of my life for thee,
that as He hath enabled thee to bear a noble testimony to
His blessed truth by word, doing, and suffering, so He would
keep thee faithful unto death. . . . Oh ! sweet and comfort-
able communion ! when distant in person we aie present in
spirit. Life often flows and circulates after a secret and in-

381

RICHARD CLARIDGE AND HIS FRIENDS.

visible, yet sensible, sympathizing manner. ... I desire I
may neither run before nor stay behind my Guide. My dear
Friend, travail with me and for me. Blessed are they who
live by faith."

In a long reply to two letters received from an entire
stranger, Claridge writes : —

" Loving Friend, Hugh Kirk, . . . Though thou art un-
known to me outwardly and by face, yet I have an inward
sensible perception of thee in the light and life of Jesus. . . .
These hungering and thirsting ones that cannot be satisfied
with anything short of God, and the enjoyment of His living
presence, shall, as they continue so travailing, hungering, and
thirsting, be satisfied ; for the Lord never said to the seed of
Jacob, ' Seek ye Me in vain.' ... It is a matter of rejoicing
to my soul that the Lord hath been pleased to make my book,
' Mercy Covering the Judgment Seat,' helpful unto thee, as I
hear He hath also done to many more."

Claridge had become an author whilst a clergyman,
and his pen had not been idle during his sojourn
amongst Baptists. The books he afterwards wrote were
chiefly in reference to the principles held by Friends ;
his Lux Evangelica Attesta, like the work Hugh Kirk
mentioned, is said to have been made a blessing to
numerous readers.

In 1702, Eichard Claridge went to the Yearly Meet-
ing at Colchester, in company with Samuel Waldenfield
and William Hornold. The home of the latter was
near Katcliff Highway, but he spent much time in
diligent, itinerant, ministerial labours, especially endea-
vouring to have meetings in places where they had
never or rarely been held. The former was also a
minister, residing in Middlesex whose unwearied zeal
and powerful preaching in Great Britain, Holland, and
Germany, were greatly blessed. Most exemplary in

RICHARD CLAKIDGE AND HIS FRIENDS.

385

his daily life, ready to every good work, courteous as
well as charitable, he was beloved by rich and poor ;
and many who had been prejudiced against Friends
viewed them in a very different light after becoming
acquainted with him. " What a brave thing it is," was
his characteristic remark on his death-bed, " for Friends
to dwell in unity; here we can sit together as the
children of God, the church of the first-born, whose
names are written in heaven."

On their way the three ministers held a meeting at
the Spread Eagle at Ingatestone ; and whilst at Col-
chester, in conjunction with another Friend, they had
meetings on two successive days, which were very
large and satisfactory : it was supposed that one of
them was attended by at least 1,500 persons. In the
autumn of 1703 Eichard Claridge gave up his school,
and spent a good deal of time in preaching and writing.
When John Love, Jun., was at Barking he held an
evening meeting, and on the following day preached in
the streets and market-place, accompanied by Eichard
Claridge. On the morrow, Barking Three - Weeks'
Meeting had an influx of visitors, on whom John Love's
striking ministry appeared to make a deep impression.
He was probably the son of the Friend who bore the
same name, and who died, or was put to death, in the
Inquisition in 1GG0.

Amongst other meetings at which Eichard Claridge
was present were two held in the barn of a Friend
named Eoger Palmer, who lived at Navestock, near
Harold's Wood, in Essex. As no meeting of this kind
had ever been held in the parish, Eoger Palmer was
anxious to have an opportunity of bidding his neighbours

2 C

38G

RICHARD CLARIDGE AND HIS FRIENDS.

to one, and about one hundred and fifty of them re-
sponded to this invitation. They were very powerfully
addressed by Eichard Claridge and Samuel Waldenfield,
both of whom also engaged in prayer. At the eager
request of the people, a second meeting was held, in
which Eichard Claridge spoke at great length. " I
entreated them," he writes, " to turn their minds to
Christ, the inward Teacher — the Teacher sent of God
to teach them the way of life and salvation ; and then
signified to them that our directing them to turn their
minds inwardly to Christ was- sot to take them off from
the Holy Scriptures, or faith in Christ crucified as
outwardly. Though we press men to believe in the
light and to walk in the light, yet Ave do not declare
that, as though they could do it of their own will or
power, but that they ought to look to and wait upon
Christ for ability so to do. . . . God hath provided a
means sufficient for the salvation of men, and this
means is Christ Jesus, the One Mediator between God
and men, the great and alone Sacrifice of propitiation."

Early in 1707 Eichard Claridge removed to Totten-
ham, where he opened a boarding and day school. Tins
proceeding gave great offence to the vicar of the parish,
his curate, and the master of the Free School, and led them
to appeal for aid to Lord Coleraine and Hugh Smithson,
Esq., justices of the peace, who threatened Claridge with
persecution ; the only reason they could allege for this
menace being the evil that might ensue if he infused
his pupils' minds with erroneous views. When Eichard
Claridge was told of this, he said his purpose was to do
good in the position in which God's providence had
placed him, and that he could not abandon the per-

RICHAUD OLARIDGB AND HIS FRIENDS. 387

formance of his duty. The two clergymen next went
from house to house endeavouring to induce the parents
of the children to withdraw them from the teaching of
one whom they stigmatised as an apostate, an impostor,
a heretic, and a Jesuit. The vicar even vilified him
from his pulpit, which shocked several members of his
congregation, who strongly expressed their disapproval
of such uncharitableness. Many of his hearers after-
wards went to the Friends' Meeting, and listened with
grave attention to Eichard Claridge's ministry ; and the
next evening a large number of the inhabitants of the
town came to a meeting held at his house, at which
three or four other ministers of the Society were also
present.

A few weeks later, whilst sitting one day at dinner,
Clarklge was arrested with a writ of qui tarn, etc.
The officer who did so, civilly handed him the war-
rant that lie might obtain legal advice. His adver-
saries having been foiled when prosecuting him in
Doctors' Commons, now attacked him upon a statute
passed in the reign of James I. against Eoman Catholic
recusants, the penalty being forty shillings a day for
keeping school without a license. The damages demanded
of Eichard Claridge were £G00 ; but his opponents were
once more unable to carry their point ; and the Lord
Chief Justice, in summing up the evidence to the jury,
referred to the violent manner in which the prosecution
had been conducted.*

* The reasons assigned by a modern writer [Julia Wedgwood] for
the bitter opposition of the clergy of the eighteenth century to the
Methodists seem — in addition to more palpable causes — to apply
also to that encountered by the early Friends one hundred years
before : — " The Articles which every clergyman had signed, the

388

RICHARD CLARIDGE AND HIS FRIENDS.

In the summer of the following year, Eichard Claridge
wrote a long letter to a gentleman who had at one time
been a Baptist minister, but who, like himself, had
adopted the views of Friends. In reference to his own ex-
perience, he alludes to the time when, although believing
the whole history of Christ, he was still ignorant of Him
as a personal Saviour. " To remove this darkness," he
writes, " there was first light (not natural, but divine) :
and that showed me my sin . . . and directed me to
Christ, the alone Saviour. . . . And as I was enabled by
the grace of God — for without that I could do nothing
— to believe in Christ and repent of my sin ... so I
came by the powerful and effectual working of the same
grace, to pass through the ministration of condemnation,
and to witness, gradually, the ministration of life and
peace. I say gradually, for so it was with me. The
work was not instantaneous, but by degrees ; not but
that the Almighty could have done it in a moment. . .
And as this purging work went forward, so I became in
love with it, and earnestly cried unto the Lord that He
would take away all iniquity, and make me perfectly
clean and fit for communion with Himself. I am
fully persuaded that then the work of the Lord goes

Liturgy which he habitually read, had been emptied of meaning ;
he declared tbe Holy Ghost had called him to the office of a deacon,
and he meant only that he saw no reason why he should not enter
on it ; he prayed that he and his congregation might receive the in-
spiration of God's Holy Spirit, and He meant only that they might
go to Heaven when they died. He signed the Articles which were
drawn up to secure the doctrine of justification by faith, and he
meant only that God would overlook the sins of those who acknow-
ledged a certain historical person to be His Son. Hence, when a
set of men arose, not only believing these doctrines with all their
soul, but regarding them as the medicine for a diseased world, the
clergy started back with horror."

RICHARD CLARIDGE AND HIS FRIKNDS.

380

rightly on, when we are in love with His righteous
judgments."

In the latter part of 1713 Claridge gave up his school
and removed to London, spending much time in visit-
ing the meetings in and around the city. Three years
afterwards a heavy trial hefell him, in the death of
liis daughter and only child. Amongst his MS. there
was found some serious counsel written for her use.
One sentence is as follows : — "Walk in the light of the
Lamb continually ; so thou shalt be a witness of His
work, which is to take away the sin of the world."
About this time he wrote to a relative who had recently
lost a son, whose conduct had been marked by disobe-
dience and dissipation. After expressing sympathy, he
says : —

" I would not have thee sorrow as one without hope, for
the mercie3 of God are boundless and His judgments are un-
searchable. It behoveth us to be still and to exercise hope
and charity : the mercy extended to the penitent thief ought
to caution us against judging of the everlasting state of any,
for who knows what faith and repentance the Lord in His
abundant compassion might be pleased to give thy poor son
before his exit out of the body ! Comfort thyself, therefore,
in the Lord alone, to whom secret things belong, and whose
mercy rejoiceth against judgment."

When a cousin of Richard Claridge sent him a
genealogical table of their family, recently obtained
from the Heralds' Office, he copied a part of it, but,
when returning it with thanks, writes of " The Christian
pedigree, which is noble indeed, and worthy of our most
diligent search."

A few weeks before his death Richard Claridge
received a letter from the wife of an intimate friend,

390 RICHARD CLARIDGE AND HIS FRIENDS.

who was in a state of deep despondency. Brief extracts
from his long and kind reply must suffice : —

" Dearly beloved Friend, — . . . Oh, bo not faithless ;
but believe that Jesus Christ will, in His own appointed
time, deliver thee, as thou abidest in faith and patience,
bearing the indignation of the Lord because thou hast sinned
against Him. . . . The times and seasons of the Lord's de-
livering of His people are in His own hands, and when the
set time is fully come He will appear, and bring salvation
with Him. Satan labours to possess thee with fears, doubts,
and questionings concerning the loving-kindness of God to
thy soul. Eut, my dear Friend, I have waited on the Lord
on thy behalf, and am persuaded that this is one of Satan's
wiles. ... I also find an openness in my heart, not only to
sympathise with thee, but also to put up my fervent suppli-
cations to the Lord for thee; and I believe He will answer
my cries tor the sake of His beloved Son Jesus Christ, in
whom alone is my trust. . . . The reason thou givest for
desiring a few lines from me, and not a personal visit, is
somewhat strange ; for thou sayest, ' I do not desire to see
the face of any honest Friend ; ' and thy allegation for that
is still more strange — ■ I am an afflicted, disconsolate, poor
wo nan, not worthy that any honest Friend should come
under my roof.' For the greater thy affliction, the more need,
in my judgment, thou hast of an honest Friend to visit, ad-
vise, and comfort thee. Heavenly conversation is often blest
to the disconsolate person, and by being too much alone the
recluse party often becomes very dull, heavy, and melancholic,
and lies open to various assaults and impressions of Satan.
. . . Solitude, in a proper time and season, is on excellent
thing ; but in a time of such deep exercises as thine are, it
will be convenient for thee to admit the conversation of some
friend or friends, who have passed through the tires and the
waters, and felt Satan's bufferings, and known the Lord's
preservations. It is a Christian duty to entertain very low
and humble thoughts of thyself ; but I tenderly caution thee,
in the wisdom of God, to take heed of a Satanieal idle here,
for Christ is an all-sufficient and all benevolent Saviour.
" Thy truly sympathising friend and brother,

" KlCUARD CLARIDGE."

RICHARD CLAIilDGE AND HIS FRIENDS. 391

The health of Eichard Claridge had been declining
for some years. The last MS. which occupied him
was a memorial sketch of his venerated friend George
Whitehead, who had lately died, after spending between
sixty and seventy years of his long life in the service
of his Lord. But, before he could complete this, he had
to lay down the pen, of which he had long made
a conscientious use. After a few days of increased
illness, during which he spoke to those who visited him
of the peace which was his happy portion, he expired
in the early part of 1723, in the seventy-fourth year of
his ao'e.

His loss was a great one — to the Church, where it
had been his wont to urge all to single-hearted holi-
ness ; to the friends to whom his sweetness endeared
him, whilst adding a charm to his conversation ; to the
poor, who would miss his visits no less than his open-
handed charity : and to his own household, on whose
behalf his fervent prayers had often ascended to heaven,
and to whom he had been a standing witness of the
blessed result of a life lived " by the faith of the Son
of God." For he had not only applied to Christ for
healing, but had also placed himself passively in His
hands, to effect the restoration in His own way and
time ; and had found — as Eichard Baxter writes — that
" He is not such a physician as to perform but a
supposed or reputative cure. He came not to persuade
His Father to judge us to be well because He Himself
is, well, or to leave us uncured. . . . This is the work
of our blessed Eedeemer — to make man fit for God's
approbation and delight. He regenerateth us, that He
may sanctify us and make us fit for our Master's use."

THOMA? ?TOF^Y.

" Do not think that your earthly circumstances make a holy life to
God's glory impossible. . . . Only cultivate large expectations of
what the Lord will do for you. Let it he your sole desire to attain
an entire union with Him. It is impossible to say what the Lord
Jesus would do for a soul who is truly willing to live through Him
as He through the Father " (John vi. 57). — Andrew Murray's
" Like Christ."

THOMAS STORY.

" God called for my life, and I offered it at His footstool ; but He
gave it me, as a prey, with unspeakable addition. He called for my
will, and I resigned it at His call ; but He returned me His own in
token of His love. ... I begged Himself and He gave me all." —
T. Story.

The life of this remarkable man seems to be well
worthy the attention of those — especially — who are
members of that religious body which he did not join
until (after carefully studying the doctrines of many
other sects) he had become fully convinced that the
principles held by Friends are in accordance with those
laid down in the New Testament. For about half a
century he preached the Gospel, his field of labour in-
cluding the British Isles, the Netherlands, the United
States of America, and the West Indies. Very skilful
in religious argument, which he conducted in a truly
Christian spirit — he was courteously and attentively
heard by archbishops, dukes, earls, and countesses.
During a residence of fourteen years in America he was
the coadjutor of William Penn in the arrangement of
the affairs of Pennsylvania ; and in addition to being-
one of the Governor's Council, he filled the offices of
Keeper of the Great Seal, Master of the Polls, etc., and
was also appointed Pecorder for Philadelphia ; the
mayorality of this city was offered him in 1706, but he
did not accept it.

Thomas Story was born about 1G Go, and was brought
up as a member of the Church of England. Having
chosen the law as his profession, he practised it in

THOMAS STORY.

Carlisle, and afterwards in London. From a very early
age his heart was inclined to serious thoughtfulness, and
when alone he often read the Bible, which even then he
loved above all other books. As soon as he began to
adopt some of the rude habits and words of the school-
boys with whom he was associated, he says he felt
something within him suddenly surprising him with a
sense of sin, and thereby powerfully influencing his
conduct. As he grew older the necessity of the great
work of regeneration strongly impressed his heart ; and,
conscious of the uncertainty of life, he felt that " a
secret stain rested upon the world and all its glory."

When he was about five-and-twenty, he was one day
riding to a country church when his horse fell and
broke its neck, whilst he himself was quite uninjured.
Standing by the side of the prostrate animal he could
but feel in how great peril his own life had been, and
his heart was sorely troubled with the remembrance that,
" Except a man be born again he cannot see the king-
dom of God." He remarks that

" by the grace of God I had been enabled in measure to
shun all words and acts which I felt to he evil." "And
yet," he writes, " I did not know the Divine pjrace in its
own nature, as it is in Christ ; nor as a word of faith, sanc-
tification, justification, consolation, and redemption. But my
mind being truly earnest with God, thirsting unto death for
the knowledge of the way of life, He was pleased to hear the
voice of my necessity ; for I wanted present salvation, and
the Lord knew my case could not admit of further delay.
And therefore being moved by His own free mercy and good-
ness— even in the same love in which lie sent His Son, the
Beloved, into the world to seek and to save the lost — on the
lirst day of the second month, in the evening, in the year
1 G89, being alone in my chamber, the Lord brake in upon

THOMAS STOKY.

397

me unexpectedly ; quick as lightning from the heavens, and
as a lighteous, all-powerful, all-knowing, sin-condemning,
judge, before whom my soul, as in the deepest agony, trembled,
was confounded and amazed, and filled with such awful dread
as no words can declare. . . . But in the midst of this a voice
was formed and uttered in me : — ' Thy will, 0 God ! be
done ; if this be Thy act alone, and not my own, / yield my
soul to Thee.'1 From the conceiving of these words from the
Word of life, I quickly found relief. There was all-healing
virtue in them, and the effect so swift and powerful that,
even in a moment, all my fears vanished as if they had never
been ; and my mind became calm, still and simple as a little
child. The day of the Lord dawned, and the Sun of Righte-
ousness arose in me with Divine healing and restoring
virtue in His countenance, and He became the centre of my
mind. ... I had a taste and view of the agonjr of the Son
of God, and of His death upon the cross, when the weight
of the sins of all human kind were upon Him. Xow all my
past sins were pardoned and done away, and my carnal rea-
sonings and conceivings about the knowledge of God and the
mysteries of religion were over. ... I now found the true
Sabbath, a holy, heavenly, divine, and free rest, and most
sweet repose."

Refreshing sleep, to which lie had long been a stranger,
followed this blessed visitation, and the next day he
felt as free from care as a little child. As evenino; a<rain
returned, he says that his " whole nature and being-
were filled with the Divine presence in a manner he had
never known before." He beautifully and forcibly com-
pares his assurance of the reality of this experience, to
the certainty felt by man — without any train of reason-
ing— of the fact that he beholds the sun, although that
glorious orb can only be seen through the medium of his
own light. In God's own presence Thomas Story learnt
that He is love, and that perfect love casts out fear ; no
marvel that he should add, " I was filled with perfect
consolation." Henceforth he hungered only for the

398

THOMAS STORY.

bread of life, with which his Lord did not fail to supply
him, whilst gradually leading him onwards in the path
of the just, where the snares of the enemy, revealing to
him his own weakness, taught him also the exceeding
greatness of God's power.

Although he spoke to no one of what was passing
within his soul, his friends must have seen that some
great change had occurred : his sword and other orna-
mental articles of attire were laid aside, his instruments
of music burnt, and he felt it right to discontinue his
attendance at church, with a belief that one day it
would [be his duty to oppose the world with regard to
matters of religion. Meanwhile Christ Avas his teacher,
and " mysteries," it has been said, " are revealed to the
meek." " As the nature and virtue," he writes, " of the
Divine essential Truth increased in my mind, it wrought
in me daily a greater conformity to its own power ;
reducing my mind to a solid quietude and silence as a
state most fit for attending to the speech of the Divine
word ; being daily fed with the fruit of the tree of life I
desired no other knowledge."

Whilst thus withdrawn for a while from outward
religious fellowship, his heart was filled with love
and compassion to all his fellow-creatures, whether
" Protestants, Eomans, Jews, Turks, or Heathens." His
desire was to worship God in spirit and in truth, but he
did not know that any others held views on this subject
similar to those which Christ had taught him. One day,
as he was finishing a long poem in blank verse " To the
Saints in Zion," the Quakers, to his surprise, were sud-
denly brought to his mind, in such a manner as to awaken
a strong desire to know what their principles were.

THOMAS STORY.

309

Early in the summer of 1691, having some business
in the west of Cumberland, be lodged at an inn which
was kept by a Friend, with whom he had some religious
conversation ; and on the following day accompanied
him to the Friends' meeting at Broughton. This good
man had, no doubt, become much interested in his young
companion, and as they journeyed together was inclined
to give him further details of the views held by the sect
of which he was a member ; but he no longer found an
eager listener, for Thomas Story says that his mind was
composed, and its attention directed towards God, who
knew that he " wanted only to see the truth and not be
deceived." So they rode together for some miles in
perfect silence, in which Thomas Story enjoyed a blessed
consciousness of the presence of God. In this state of
mind he took his seat in the meeting, giving no great
heed to the words of a minister who was contrasting
some of the views of Friends with those of the Presby-
terians, etc. ; for he did not doubt that in common with
other denominations they could speak in favour of their
own principles, " and my concern," he writes, " was much
rather to know whether they were a people gathered
under a sense of the enjoyment of the presence of God
in their meetings ; or, in other words, whether they
worshipped the true and living God in the life and
nature of Christ, the Son of God, the true and only
Saviour : and the Lord answered my desire according
to the integrity of my heart. For not long after I had
sat down among them, that heavenly and watery cloud
overshadowing my mind, brake into a sweet abounding
shower of celestial rain, and the greatest part of the
meeting was broken together, and comforted in the same

400

THOMAS STORY.

Divine presence and influence of the holy and heavenly
Lord, which was divers times repeated before the meeting
was ended."

He had been no stranger to similar feelings when
alone with God, but now he learnt that " as many
small streams by forming a river become more deep and
weighty," even so in a company that with one accord
draw nigh to God, through Jesus Christ, there may be a
stronger realisation of the fulness of joy to be found in
His presence. And in this solemn hour he learnt also
that, like the prophet of old, he had been wrong in
supposing that there was " scarce any true and living
faith in the world."

Greatly did the Friends who formed Broughton
Meeting rejoice in spirit over the young stranger in
their midst, who they imagined had now for the first
time been brought to the true knowledge of God. He
accepted an invitation to the house of an aged widow ;
the peace of God, " inexpressible by any language but
itself alone, remaining as a canopy" over his mind.
No marvel that on such a day as this he should resolve
henceforth, at any cost, to count all things but loss for
the excellency of the knowledge of Christ; to abandon
whatever would hinder his communion with his Lord,
or mar any service for Him to which he might be called.

Soon his sincerity was severely tested. An acquain-
tance came to him one evening to ask him to appear
the next day, as a witness in his favour, at a trial con-
cerning some houses which formed the greater part of
his property. As Story had made the deed of convey-
ance, the young man thought that his evidence would
prove the justness of his claim. "Whilst his friend was

THOMAS STOKY.

401

talking to him Thomas Story saw that he must now
either take up the cross of Christ, or forsake Him for
ever. His Saviour did not desert him in this time of
need; he said, " I am concerned it should fall out so ; I
will appear if it please God, and testify what I know in
the matter, and do what I can for you that way, but T
cannot swear." Passionately, and with an oath, his
astonished friend made reply, " What, you are not a
Quaker, sure !" For a few moments Story scarcely knew
what would be a true answer to this question, but as
" the power of that life of Him who forbiddeth all oaths
and swearing arose," as he says, yet more clearly and
fully in him, he replied, "I must confess the truth ; I am
a Quaker." His angry acquaintance heaped him with
reproaches, threatened to have him fined by the Court,
and dealt with according to the utmost rigour of the
law. No sooner had he left the house than Thomas
Story withdrew to his own room, for in that hour of
sore temptation and trial he felt that he must be alone
with God. A gentleman by birth, education, and asso-
ciation— life, with fair prospects, opening before him —
his young spirit was, he knew, in danger of quailing before
Satan's suggestions of what might be the consequences
of the course he had taken ; fines, imprisonment, the
displeasure of his father, loss of friends, scoffing, and
scorn.

His account of the victory won by faith is too
remarkable to ba given in any words bat his own : —

" From about eight in the evening till midnight the eye of
ray mind was fixed on the love of God, which still remained
.sensible in me, my soul cleaving thereto in great simplicity,
humility, and trust therein, without any yielding to Satan
and his reasonings on those subjects where flesh and blood

2 D

402 THOMAS STORY.

in its own strength is easily overcome. But about twelve at
night the Lord put him to utter silence with all his tempta-
tions for that season, and the life of the Son of God alone
remained in my soul. And then, from a sense of His won-
derful work and redeeming arm, this saying of the Apostle
arose in me with power — -' The law of the spirit of life in
Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and
death.' "

Perfect love had cast out fear, and calmly and with
undaunted confidence he committed his cause to his
Saviour's keeping. The following morning, whilst on
his way to the Hall where the judges sat, his acquaintance
met him with the information that the opponent had
yielded the cause, and that the case was now satis-
factorily settled. On hearing this, Thomas Story " stood
still in the street," for he knew that it was the Lord's
doing.

This circumstance made him the common topic of
conversation : a few looked sorrowful and wept, whilst
others scoffed and sneered. But none of these things
moved him, for the love of God was to his soul as "a
rampart of invincible patience." Some gentlemen
whom he knew, wishing to reclaim him from what
they hoped was but a temporary fit of fanaticism, asked
him to meet them at a tavern. This invitation he
thought it right to accept, and the secret presence of
his Saviour accompanying him, affected them in a way
they had little looked for. A health to King William
was being drunk, but when the glass was handed to
Story be told his companions that, whilst wishing well
to both the king and themselves, he must refuse it,
having given up the habit of health-drinking. The
glass did not go round ; a solemnity pervaded the

THOMAS STORY.

403

assembly, causing silence and weeping ; then some of
Thomas Story's friends spoke of their conviction that
every man should be allowed to do what he thinks right
in the sight of God, and they parted, we read, "in solid
friendship."

Although at this time Thomas Story had but little
intercourse with Friends, he constantly attended their
meetings, where, he says, in a state of silence his heart
was frequently broken and tendered by the Divine
influence of the powerful truth : a holy pleasure which
the world could never afford.

He now became convinced that, in his own case, the
practice of the law would be a hindrance to his growth
in grace, and to his fulfiment of the ministry for which
he felt that God was preparing him. The abandonment
of all hope of worldly preferment was probably a far
lighter trial than the displeasure which his father
manifested when he became aware of this resolution.
About this time, whilst attending a meeting at Sunder-
land, Thomas Story's heart was much affected, as was
often the case, by a powerful sense of the presence
and love of his Saviour ; he noticed that at the same
time many others shared in his blessedness, and this, he
remarks, made it clear to him that " there is a com-
munication of Divine love through the one Spirit, and
that unspeakable, among the sanctified in Christ at this
day as well as in time past, and that in a state of holy
silence."

When travelling in Scotland, as companion to a
minister named John Bowstead, Story for the first time
spoke a few words in public in a street at Coupar, after
which the people in a very loving manner directed them

404

THOMAS STORY.

on their way. He was then about thirty years of age.
Not long afterwards he attended the London Yearly
Meeting, in company with John Banks, whom he
describes as " that good, old valiant warrior for Truth
on earth." At Edmonton he first met with William
Perm, and their hearts were closely drawn together by
those holy ties which can never be broken. He also
formed a similar friendship with Thomas Wilson, who
seemed to him to be the most able and powerful minister
of the age.

Whilst accompanying this Friend on a religious visit
to the west of England, Thomas Story, as he sat by his
side in meetings, often enjoyed unspeakable blessedness
and satisfaction. But before his return to his father's
house, his state of mind was a very different one, for
he saw that he had done wrong in not giving expression
to a few words which had been powerfully impressed
on his mind in several meetings. Deep as was his
distress it was not of long duration ; the presence of the
Lord had become his " all, and too dear to part with,"
and when in a meeting at Kirklington his Saviour once
more comforted his sorely stricken heart, he resolved to
give good heed to the next intimation to duty. Having
done this by uttering the words, " It is a good day to
all those who obey the voice of the Lord;" his scul was
filled with joy which found vent in tears. At the same
time most of the assembled company were affected in a
like manner, and for a while all were silent under the
canopy of the most High. Afterwards John Bowstead,
who had that day felt particularly attracted to Kirk-
lington Meeting, spoke at some length on the subject
which his young friend had introduced.

THOMAS STORY.

405

In 1G95 Thomas Story removed to London, where,
through the influence of William Penn and others, he
obtained employment in conveyancing. In the follow-
ing year he paid a general visit to the meetings in the
north of England and Scotland. Whilst at West Allan-
dale, amongst others who had come to see him was
Cuthbert Eeatherstone, " an ancient and honourable
friend." Whilst they communed together, they so
realised the loving presence of their Lord that the tears
flowed down the old man's face to his long white beard,
and Thomas Story's heart was deeply moved with love
towards him, and with the conviction that if he also
faithfully followed his Saviour, God would be as near
him in his old age as when He first revealed Himself in
his soul. The encouragement thus graciously granted
him at an early stage of his pilgrimage should, he
thought, be kept in lasting remembrance to the praise
of the Lord.

In 1697 we find Thomas Story and Gilbert Mollison
calling at the residence of Peter the Great, who was in
London incognito, where they wished to leave the Latin
edition of " Barclay's Apology," hoping that it might
fall under the notice of the Czar. They had an oppor-
tunity of conversing with him on some of the views
held by Friends. The following Sunday morning as
Thomas Story was sitting in Gracechurch Street Meet-
ing he saw two gentlemen enter ; they were dressed in
the usual costume of Englishmen of that period, but this
did not prevent him from recognising the Emperor and
his interpreter. A minister named Pobert Haydock
was preaching about the cure of Naaman, and — entirely
unaware of the high rank of one of his hearers — he said,

406

THOMAS STORY.

" Now if thou wert the greatest king, emperor, or poten-
tate upon earth, thou art not too great to make use of
the means offered by the Almighty for thy healing and
restoration, if ever thou expect to enter His Kingdom,
into which no unclean thing can come."

Fifteen years later, when Peter the Great's troops had
taken possession of the Friends' Meeting-house at
Frederickstadt, he not only ordered them out of it, but
•jave notice that he would attend a meeting' in it, if the
few Friends residing there were inclined to hold one.
As his Generals did not understand German, the Empe-
ror, with much seriousness, acted as interpreter in this
meeting, remarking that whoever would live in accord-
ance with such doctrine would be happy.

In 1693 Thomas Story accompanied William Penn to
Ireland, where, in the intervals of meetings, the latter
accomplished much good by interviews with the Lord
Justices of Ireland, and the chief members of the Gov-
ernment of that country ; directing their attention to
subjects connected with the spread of religion, and the
welfare of the Society of Friends. At Clonmel, Thomas
Story met with his brother, the Dean of Limerick, who
was the author of a history of the late war, during which
he had filled the post of chaplain to a regiment com-
manded by his relative, Sir Thomas Gower. On return-
ing to London, Story found his friend, Loger Gill, waiting
at his lodgings, to converse with him on the subject of
a religious visit to America.

About rive years before this time, as Thomas Story
was riding alone one autumn evening, his heart was
exceedingly moved by the power of the Lord, and greatly
comforted by the conviction given him that a visitation

THOMAS STORY.

407

of God was " coming over the western parts of the world,
towards the sunsetting." From this memorable hour,
his sonl was often deeply stirred by a sense of God's love
and compassion to a people whom he had never seen.
And two years later, when at the house of John "Whiting,
in Somerset, as he was one day looking at a map of the
world, " the power of the Lord," he writes, " suddenly
seized my soul, and His love melted me into a flood of
tender tears ; but hitherto I knew not the call of the
Lord was to me to visit those parts, though from hence-
forth I began to be afraid of it."

The belief that his gracious Master had work for him
to do in America became still stronger when, during the
Yearly Meeting, a Friend was led to pray that God
would send forth His ministers to " the western countries
and places beyond the seas/' Before going to Ireland,
Thomas Story had, on a winter day, attended a meeting
held at the Park Meeting-house, at Southwark, where
Roger Gill had also been engaged in the ministry. As
they returned together to the city, Story, finding his
mind very open towards his companion, told him of his
feelings with regard to America, and asked him if he
knew of any Friend who felt constrained to visit that
land. Roger Gill's reply was : " It is now long since I
was concerned that way, and the last night in my sleep
was as if making all things ready for my voyage." " Is
it not more than a dream yet?" said Thomas Story.
Before the latter left for Ireland, however, Robert Gill
told him that he would accompany him to America,
although he should not be ready for some time, as he
had to make arrangements for " his wife and children,
not knowing whether ever he might see them any more."'

40S

THOMAS STORY.

It is no wonder that after-events should cause these
words of his friend to return vividly to Thomas Story's
memory. When they visited the vessel in which they
thought of taking their passage, Thomas Story says that
his heart was " sweetly comforted by the Divine love
and life of the Lord Jesus in the centre of his soul, so
that for that time all loads and weights were removed."

On the day of their departure many of their friends
accompanied them on board the ship. Story thus
describes this parting hour : " Being together in the
great cabin, the good presence of the Lord commanded
deep and inward silence before Him, and the Comforter
of the just broke in upon us by His irresistible power,
and greatly tendered us together in His heavenly love,
whereby we were melted into many tears. Glorious
was this appearance, to the humbling of us all and
admiration of some there, who did not understand it.
Then William Penn was concerned in prayer. . . . And
when he had finished, the Lord repeated His own
embraces of Divine soul-melting love upon the silent
weeping assembly; to the full confirmation of us more
immediately concerned, and further evidence to the
truth of our calling. When the time for separation had
arrived, the voyagers looked after their friends as long
as they remained in sight, but with no yearnings to turn
back with them, for they were comforted, Thomas Story
says, with " that Divine love, which neither place nor
number of years shall ever be able to obstruct or deface,
as we keep true to the Lord in ourselves."

The passage was an exceedingly stormy one, the first
tempest they encountered being the most violent. Story
was enabled to wrestle in an agony of prayer for their

THOMAS STORY.

409

deliverance, at which, as he remarks, some stout hearts
were broken, and the Lord's power was glorified ; after-
wards he told his companions " in full assurance," that
the storm was over — and so it proved to he. When in
the midst of the succeeding tempests he was at one time
tempted to think that God was dealing hardly, he was
comforted by a clear conviction of His holy presence,
giving strength in proportion to the need, and manifest-
ing His power most fully in the hour of greatest
extremity.

Cold as was the New "World's winter welcome, the
strangers had a very hospitable reception at the house
of a Friend, at Queen's Creek, who had of late appre-
hended that such visitors from England would arrive,
although he did not know who they might be. One
meeting, held about this time, seems to have been
especially satisfactory to Thomas Story ; many hearts
being moved whilst the ministers spoke of " the free
and universal grace of God, through Christ, for life
and salvation — endeavouring to turn them thereunto ;
that through faith therein they might come to know the
full end of the sacrifice of the blood of Christ shed at
Jerusalem of old."

Soon we find the travellers on their way to North
Carolina, passing through a wilderness, in the midst of
which they kindle a fire, and rest whilst eating their
bread and cheese and drinking water from a brook, and
are " well refreshed and content." On another occasion,
after describing the circumstances of exceeding dis-
comfort amidst which he had passed a night, Thomas
Story adds that he " slept very well, for where the Lord
subjects the mind and makes it content, all things are

410

THOMAS STORY.

easy." His American travels afforded him ample oppor-
tunity for verifying this statement.

Some negroes attended the meetings held in Carolina,
and Thomas Story's heart was cheered at finding " the
poor blacks so near the truth and reachable." One of
them told him that a Friend who had previously visited
that part had assured them — although they had been
taught the contrary — that the grace of God, through
Christ was as free to them as to the white people. A
satisfactory interview was also had with the Chicka-
homine Indians, and, before attending the Yearly Meet-
ing for the western shore, visits were paid to the families
of Friends. About this time tidings reached Thomas
Story and his companions of the terrible yellow fever
which was raging in Philadelphia, and Boger Gill felt
that he must immediately go to the distressed Friends
there, saying that if he had wings he would fly to their
aid. Soon Story joined him, and was made deeply
sensible, as he visited the sick and dying, of the Lord's
presence with His people in this day of sore affliction.

The time for the Yearly Meeting in this city was now
at hand, and the Ministers and Elders were not sure
whether it would be best to suspend it, or to hold it as
usual. As they waited on the Lord for counsel they
saw that it would not be desirable to give up holding
the meetings, which were remarkably blessed ; those
held on the first, second, and third days being for
worship, and that on the fourth for business. Violent
as the pestilence had been during the preceding week,
it was believed that no fresh case occurred during these
four days ; and soon afterwards the plague was stayed.
The two English Friends continued their visits to the

THOMAS STOKY.

41 I

sufferers, and Thomas Story writes : "0 the immortal
sweetness I enjoyed with several as they lay under the
exercise of the devouring evil (though unspeakably
comfoited in the Lord). Let my soul remember it, and
wait low before the Lord to the end of my days ! Great
was the majesty and hand of the Lord ! Great was the
tear that fell upon all flesh. . . . But the just appeared
with open face, and walked upright in the streets, and
rejoiced in secret in that perfect love that casteth out all
fear. . . . Nor love of the world, nor fear of death could
hinder their resignation, abridge their confidence, or
cloud their enjoyments in the Lord."

Soon Roger Gill showed symptoms of illness, and,
when his companion talked to him of their plans for
the future, only answered that he did not see his way
any further. As some meetings had already been ap-
pointed Thomas Story could not stay with him ; but,
although he said that he was " pretty easy and noi very
ill," his friend took leave of him with a heavily-
burdened spirit, remembering how fervently he had
prayed during the Yearly Meeting — " That the Lord
would be pleased to accept of his life as a sacrifice for
his people, that a stop might be put to the contagion."
"I had thought," adds Thomas Story, "he would be
taken at his word, though no such sacrifices are required ;
only therein appeared his great love and concern for
Friends whom he had come so far to see." There! ore,
although he knew that the sufferer was well taken care
of, and that he could be of little use to him, Thomas
Story most keenly felt the parting, weeping so exceed-
ingly that his tears ran down to the floor ; and Roger
Gill, desiring that the Lord might be with him,

412

THOMAS STOKY.

said, " Thou breaks my heart, I cannot bear it any
longer."

Deep was Thomas Story's mourning when the tidings
of his friend's death, at the age of thirty-four, followed
him, though he was convinced that he had not only
obtained a crown of everlasting peace, but also that
" his living testimony should not fall in those American
parts." Many long years have passed away since the
loving heart of this faithful follower of His Lord ceased
to beat, when the wide waters of the Atlantic lay
between it and all that it held most dear on earth, yet
surely lioger Gill's memory is blessed still. It is
probably that whilst at Philadelphia Story met for the
first time with the daughter of Edward Shippen,* who
seven years later, in 1706, became his wife ; this happy
union was a short one, being terminated by the death
of Anne Story in 1711-12.

Thomas Story thus describes the conclusion of a
Yearly Meeting at Choptank, which he attended, not
long after the death of Roger Gill : — " Our meeting
ended in the pure holy love of our Lord Jesus Christ,
our holy Head, Life, and Comforter ; who is ever near
to the end of the world, to strengthen and support His
own in the needful season, and to bind up His holy
body, the Church, with the joints and sinews of Divine
love that cannot be broken, against which the gates of
hell can never prevail."

* Edward Shippen left England for Boston in 1675, and in that
city received a public whipping for his religion as a Friend. Re-
moving to Philadelphia, he had great success as a merchant, and
was a Speaker in the House of Assembly in 1G95. He sent valuable
aid to the poor amongst his fellow-professors in England, by the gift
of 12J ounces of gold, which he believed would sell in London for
about £50 sterling.

THOMAS STOKY.

413

Soon Thomas Story had the great pleasure of meeting
with William Penn in his own province, from which he
had been absent many years. The Governor found
affairs in a very unsettled state, and greatly desired that
Thomas Story (who was now nearly ready to return to
England) should settle for some years in Pennsylvania,
to aid him in framing regulations for the new city of
Philadelphia, as well as in other responsible and difficult
duties. To this proposal Story acceded, and afterwards
filled many important posts in Philadelphia, whilst
not confining himself so closely as to prevent visits to
various meetings. In 1704 he undertook a religious
journey to New England ; at Bristol, on the Main, the
meeting was held in the prison where two young men
were confined in consequence of their refusal to bear
arms. Having encouraged them to be faithful, Thomas
Story went to the residence of the Judge of the Court,
Colonel Byfield, in order to intercede for them. The
reception he at first met with was a rough one ; and even
after the Judge had become calmer he remarked that
he " thought it might be well if Eriends were all settled
in a place by themselves where they could not be trouble-
some to others by their contradictious ways ! " Story
answered, " If you should send us out of all countries
where we reside into one by ourselves, that would not
ease you, for more would spring up unavoidably in our
places ; for what would the world do if it should lose
its salt and leaven ? " The Colonel seemed surprised at
this reply, yet kindly shook hands with Thomas Story
before they parted. When at Boston Story spoke and
wrote to the Governor on behalf of these young men,
and they were set at liberty under certain conditions.

414

THOMAS STORY.

Shortly afterwards lie held meetings in the neigh-
bourhood of Salem, where great distress prevailed on
account of the hostilities of the Indians, who — in revenge
for the wrongs which they had too good ground for
saying they had received from the professors of Chris-
tianity in New England— stealthily and cruelly attacked
the white people, without regard to age or sex. Many
houses in towns and in the country were turned into
garrisons ; hut Thomas Story, not thinking it right to
avail himself of military protection, went to the home
of a Friend named Henry Dow, within pistol-shot of a
swamp and thicket, and there rested "with consolation."

Dangerous as was the situation of this defenceless
dwelling, its young mistress had been kept from fear
by God, in whom she put her trust until, yielding to the
entreaties of her mother, the family removed to the
neighbourhood of a garrison. Here Henry Dow's wife
was constantly distressed by terror of the Indians, and
her poor mother, venturing to go in the early morning
to fetch a few things from the house, was murdered by
some of the enemy who were in ambush. The daughter,
when these dreadful tidings reached her, instead of
going into the garrison, led her little children to a thicket,
and there her tormenting fears were taken from her,
and her stricken heart was greatly comforted by the
Lord whom she sought to make her fortress ; for as
soon as the interment had taken place Henry Dow and
his family returned to their home.

"Whilst still in this dangerous district Thomas Story
was deeply perplexed with respect to the appointment
of meetings, from the fear that in making such arrange-
ments he might risk the lives of others ; but these doubts

THOMAS STORY.

415

all vanished as this thought was presented to his mind,
He that walketh in darkness knoweth not whither he
goeth, but to him who walketh in light there is no
occasion of stumbling.

When he visited the island of Nantucket lie spent
a sleepless night, from the anxiety winch he felt that
a Friends' meeting should be established there. He
thought it his duty to lay this matter before a family
of the name of Starbuck. " I advised them," he writes,
" to wait sincerely upon the Lord in such meetings, for
they had no instrumental teachers, and assured them
that I had a firm confidence in the Lord that He would
visit them by His Holy Spirit in them, in His own
time — if they were faithful, held on, and did not faint
nor look back. Accordingly they did meet, and the
Lord did visit them, and gathered many there unto
Himself; and they became a large and living meeting
in Him, and several living and able ministers were
raised by the Lord in that family, and of others, to the
honour of His own arm, who is worthy for ever ! "

In 1709 Story visited the Barbadoes, etc., where for
some years he had believed that there was a work for
him to do. On his homeward voyage the vessel was
captured by a French privateer, and taken into His-
paniola. Those on board were deprived of their goods,
but were otherwise treated with kindness. After a while
they obtained a passage to Guadaloupe, and thence under
a flag of truce to Antigua. On the first of these voyages
they were becalmed, and in that tropical clime the
sufferings of Thomas Story, who was then violently ill,
must have been extreme ; indeed it would be no easy
task to form a clear conception of them — lying, as he

41G

THOMAS STORY.

did, in an almost unventilated hold, crowded with a
repulsive and blaspheming company, unable to quench
his thirst with a limited supply of stagnant water, and
unprovided with suitable food. Perhaps he fared better
when he exchanged these quarters for the deck, though
there unsheltered from rain, dew, and spray. It would
have been far too hard for all his own strength, he says ;
but " through the grace of God I was fully resigned to
His blessed will in death or life ; and in His blessed
visitations my soul rejoiced in remembrance of some
of my nearest and dearest friends." live years later
Thomas Story again went to Barbadoes, and in the
same year returned to his native land. Whilst on his
way to the north, to see his aged father, who was now
blind and ill, and greatly longed for his son's com-
panionship, he spent a night at Burton; " where," he
writes, " I had a secret opened to me by my dear
Saviour, which my soul humbly desires of Him may be
recorded in me for evermore."

In 1715 Story visited Holland and Germany, and,
after returning from the Continent, laboured in Ireland,
and subsequently in Scotland. After alluding to the
large congregation at Aberdeen, he writes :—" I had
travelled far in the goodwill and love of God to see
them : and a little after my coming into the place, I
was much broken in that love which reaches over sea
and land, and engages in the greatest fatigues for the
good of souls, for whom Christ died through a never-
fading love." He greatly enjoyed his intercourse with
Robert Barclay, which both would have gladly pro-
longed, though their friendship was of the kind which
can well bear any strain of separation, and Thomas

THOMAS STOKY.

417

Story characteristically remarks : — " We were made
easier t o part by the same that first made us acquainted
in the time of our youth."

Four years later Story had several large and satisfac-
tory meetings at Bath ; one, especially, he describes as
a great and glorious meeting, crowned with the presence
of the King of Kings. Many of the nobility were pre-
sent, some of them standing the whole time, though the
meeting lasted for three hours, Story speaking for about
two hours and a-half. Once, at Shrewsbury, on the last
day of a Yearly Meeting, which had been eagerly attended
by people of all ranks, whilst Thomas Story was spe'ak-
ingof the crucifixion of Christ, and of His being wounded
to the heart for the sins of men, he was so completely
overcome that he could not go on, until, as he says, his
11 spirit was a little unburdened by an efflux of many
tears, and the whole auditory was bowed and generally
broken ; and many confessed the truth." Whilst spend-
ing some weeks at Bristol, he became interested in the
young people belonging to that meeting, with whom
he quaintly says he used " all decent plainness, but, as
it was in the love of truth, they received it in the same
ground." He greatly regretted the conduct of some
ministers there, who had " unwarrantably and falsely
applied to them all the judgments against old Israel in
their most degenerate state ; of whose sins these young-
people and others, knowing themselves not to be guilty,
though perhaps in some things they want amendment'
are greatly offended and hurt."

In 1721 an Act of Parliament was passed for accept-
ing the .affirmation of Friends in its present form; tin;
one which had been previously used was very unsatis-

2 E

418

THOMAS STOEY.

factory, as it almost amounted to an oath. Thomas
Story had undergone confinement for a year and a-half
in the Fleet prison, in consequence of declining to take
it, in which suffering he says that he had great peace
and acceptance with the Lord. On his release he shared
largely in the efforts which were made by Friends to
obtain a new Act ; he had interviews in reference to
this subject with the Archbishops of Canterbury and
York, the Bishop of Carlisle, the Duke of Somerset, and
the Earls of Sunderland and Carlisle. The Archbishop
of York, after a long conversation, expressed a wish to
see some of the writings of Friends, and at parting took
Thomas Story's hand in his own, and said : " I desire
your prayers for me, as I also pray for you ; we ought
all to pray one for another."

On one occasion, when at Lowther Hall on business,
a conversation which Thomas Story had with Lord
Lonsdale on religious topics, introduced by the latter,
was prolonged until 1 a.m. Thomas Story told his
courteous listener that, " We must love God, love His
judgments and reproofs, which ar.e all in love, in order
to the manifestation of Himself;" and referring to his
own experience, remarked : " Whilst I was in an uncon-
verted state I believed the being of God and all His
attributes ; but I did not actually know God to be holy
till He reproved unholiness in me. . . . Nor had I known
Him as a consuming fire, unless by the refining opera-
tion of His Spirit He had consumed my corruptions, or
begun that work ; or that He is love, Divine, unspeak-
able love, unless by His own power He had fitted me
in some measure to enjoy the influences of His grace in
a state of holiness ; in which He rules as a monarch in

THOMAS STORY.

419

the soul . . . which through grace I know infinitely
transcends, even in this life, all that can be named besides !"

In 1730 we find Thomas Story pausing in his travels
and settling for nearly a year at Justicetown (an estate
near Carlisle, inherited from his father), where he
enjoyed spending a portion of his time in planting and
improving his land, and in intercourse with his friends ;
his great interest in a large nursery ground of British
and American forest trees being increased from the fact
that there was an inconvenient lack of timber in that
neighbourhood. During his long residence in Phila-
delphia he had formed an intimate friendship with
James Logan (Perm's invaluable coadjutor), with whom
he afterwards corresponded, manifesting an affectionate
interest in his children, although he did not know them
personally. In 1734 he writes, from London, to one of
James Logan's little girls, who was probably much
gratified at being addressed as : " Pespected Friend,
Sarah Logan, jun." His object in writing is to thank
her for " a very acceptable present of her early inge-
nuity," which had been " greatly admired as the work
of a person so young." From her answer we learn that
he had not only remembered to thank her for what she
styles " a small piece of my childish performance," but
also " to retaliate it to a great excess with a valuable
present." Peference is also made to another gift of a
knife, fork, and spoon, in a shagreen case, which her
kind friend had sent her when her father was last in
England. In his next note Thomas Story expresses his
hope " that heaven may preserve her by the sweet
Divine dew from above, daily descending upon her
tender heart."

420

THOMAS STORY.

Some portions of his letters to James Logan show
how deep were his researches in certain branches of
natural science, for his learning was extensive.

When he was attending the Quarterly Meeting at
York, in 1738, a person who was present took down
some of his sermons in shorthand. Thomas Story was
unaware of this at the time, hut consented to their
publication, whilst remarking in his Journal, "No
words can represent the Divine virtue, power, and
energy in which the doctrines of the truth are delivered
by those who are sent of God.''

In one of these sermons he observes : " If we do
indeed believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, He reconcileth
us unto God, reforms our nature, and destroys the works
of siu in us, according to the saying of John the
Baptist : Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh
away the sin of the world.' " Then, after quoting
Mai. iii. 1, 2, ;'>, and Matt. iii. 12, lie continues : " Now
these things were not predicted concerning the outward;
coming of Christ in the ilesli only, but rather of His
inward coming or revelation in Spirit ; for where sin is,
there is the defilement, and where that is, there must the
liefiner and Purifier be. . . . And there never can be
any true reformation wrought in us until we come thus
to believe and receive the Son of God ; and by believing
and receiving Him we are, and shall be, redeemed from
all our sins, and the deadly effects of them in our souls.
. . . He will fill us with His Holy Spirit, the new wine
of His kingdom, which consists not of meat and drink,
but righteousness, Divine peace, and joy unspeakable in
the Holy Ghost — an enjoyment, even in this life, tran-
scending all the imagination and thought of man in his

THOMAS STORY.

421

natural state." In another sermon, after remarking that
he was glad that there had been so long a silence in the
meeting, he added : " The lust of hearing the voice of
man remains until the voice of God be heard in the
soul, and then cometh that satisfaction which no other
voice can give." Not long afterwards he attended a
General Meeting at Preston, during which many of the
young, he writes, " were baptised of the Lord in the
purifying flame of Divine love, to their great consola-
tion, entering thereby into a covenant of light and life
with Him, according to His sure promise of old."

Thomas Story was seized with paralysis in 1741
whilst in London, rendering what assistance he could
to the deeply sorrowing widow of his friend Joseph
Green (whose eldest son had died within a few hours
of his father). Although his memory was much im-
paired by this attack, his amiability and cheerfulness
were unchanged. During the summer his health much
improved, and he returned to Justicetown ; but in the
spring of the following year a second paralytic seizure
terminated his life. The funeral, which took place at
the Friends' Cemetery, Carlisle, was largely attended by
respectful mourners from the neighbourhood, as well as
by a great number of Friends from a distance.

Such a life as Thomas Story's may well stimulate
sincere Christians to press forward ; for it serves to
exemplify the truth, which was so dear to himself, that
He, whose Divine strength is made perfect in human
weakness, " is able to carry on His work in the soul,
when, and how, and to what degree it pleaseth Him."

QILBEFfT LATEY AND
f RIEND£.

'• As I read your letter, and heard that you desired for me, as your
salutation, the Crucified Saviour, my heart and soul sprang up within
for gladness I have such joy and gladness in His pro-
mises that I cannot even think on these torments. . . . Yea, such
joy and gladness as I cannot speak or write, or had thought could
be experienced in a prison, for scarce can I sleep night or day for
rejoicing." — Letter from the Martyr Jeromymous Segerson

TO HIS IMPRISONED WIFE, ALSO A MARTYR J 1551.

425

GILBERT LATEY AND HIS FRIENDS.

" How was it, lovers of your kind,

Though ye were mocked and hatred,

That ye, with clear and patient mind
Truth's holy doctrine stated ?

In God, as in an ark, ye kept ;

Around, — and not ahove you, — swept
The flood till it abated."

T. T. Lynch.

"L-ETine talk with you ever so long, and yon will
tell me of the Spirit of God, and the grace of God, and the
operation thereof, and the love of God you are made
witnesses of through Jesus Christ, which I believe may,
in a measure, be true; but do you not think it is well
to have something to represent that which you so much
love?" Such was the question not unnaturally asked by
Lord D'Aubiguy — a priest in orders of the Church of
Rome, and Lord-Almoner of the Queen Dowager Hen-
rietta Maria, whom lie had accompanied to England —
at the conclusion of a conversation with Gilbert Latey,
the son of a Cornish yeoman, who had some six years
earlier been convinced of the views of Friends. " The
substance of all tilings" was Gilbert Latey 's reply, "is
come, Christ in us, the hope of glory, and all the outward
types and representations must come to an end and be
swallowed up in our blessed Lord. . . . He being so near
men and women is the saint's daily Remembrancer."

When one day Lord D'Aubigny took him through
the kneeling company in the Queen's Chapel to an
apartment in which was another of her priests, we learn

GILBERT LATEY AND HIS FRIENDS.

that " the word of the Lord " came to him to " preach
Truth unto them," which he did. In consequence of an
expression he made use of, this priest asked him of what
altar he spoke, and he answered it was of that on which
the saints daily offer up their prayers. " Friend,"
was the priest's reply, " there is no greater state attain-
able than that you speak of! "

Gilbert Latey was born in the year 1626 in the parish
of St. Issey, which lies ' near the bold, rugged and
scantily-populated north coast of Cornwall. He wished
to be bound to some trade, and chose that of tailor, and,
whilst still young, exchanged his native place, with
its bracing breezes, for Plymouth. His situation at
Plymouth was a very promising one ; but his master,
although making a great profession of religion, did not
carry it out in practice, and, therefore, notwithstanding
the offer of the best wages given to any man in the
town, Gilbert Latey, who had " breathings in his heart
after the Lord," thought that it would not be right to re-
main with him.

He removed to London, where he became a successful
tradesman in the Strand, and was patronised by gentle-
men of high rank. But no outward prosperity could
satisfy the cravings of his soul : neither could the four
sermons he often heard in the course of a day, nor even
his frequent private prayers ; though doubtless, being
offered in sincerity, they came up for a memorial before
God. " To be a seeker," as his contemporary Oliver
Cromwell said, " is to be of the best sect next to being
a finder," and yet his heart must have often sunk as he
went from one to another of the most eminent preachers
of the day, without finding the enlightenment he longed

GILBERT LATEY AND HIS FRIENDS.

427

for. Perhaps it was but with a faint hope of better
success that he went one day, when about the age
of twenty-eight, to the house of a certain widow in
Whitecross Street, where he had been told that a meeting
would be held by two Friends from the North. One of
these was Edward Burrough, and the fervent ministry
of the young dales-man, then only eighteen, was the
means of showing him that what he had so long sought
without, he might find within ; and once finding his
Lord, and experiencing that He had redeemed him to
God by His blood, not for one moment does he seem to
have hesitated on the right course to be pursued, though
with his wonted keenness of perception he must have
foreseen that a rough road lay before him. Nor did he
enter on it with faltering steps, but rather with rejoicing
alacrity ; for the Pearl of Great Price was within his
grasp, and he could only feel that it was worth selling
all for. His Saviour had revealed Himself to him, and
his soul was satisfied.

At this time Friends were scarcely known in Loudon,
and Gilbert Latey was one of the first-fruits of their
labours; but twenty-four years later, in 1678 — so richly
did the blessing of the Lord crown their zeal — their
number had swelled to 10,000 in that city alone. Gilbert
Latey 's good sense and sound judgment, dedicated as
they were to the Lord's service, were of great use in
settling the numerous meetings which soon sprang up
in and around the metropolis. Amongst the latter was
one at Hammersmith, where he was, we find, during
forty-nine years a " frequent attender, and in measure
supporter thereof, being as a nursing father thereto, and
the Lord blessed his unwearied love."

428

GILBERT LATEY AND HIS FRIENDS.

This meeting was opened about 1658 after Hammer-
smith had been visited by a Friend named Sarah Black -
bury, whose ministry so affected a woman named Hester
Mason that she entertaiued her at her house, and ob-
tained permission from her husband for the appointment
of a meeting there ; this, however, he withdrew after
only one meeting had been held, in consequence of the
many calumnies about Friends which reached his ears
through his fellow-servants at a Westminster brew-
house. For a while it was removed to Chiswick, but
was afterwards brought back to Hammersmith, where a
regular meeting-house was built in 1677.

The first Friends' meeting established at Kingston
was held in the house of two faithful followers of Christ,
John and Ann Fielder, whose only daughter Mary
became the wife of Gilbert Latey. The Lord Protector
often resided at Hampton Court at the time of the
settlement of Kingston Meeting, and amongst the many
there " turned to the Lord " were — as Latey's nephew
and biographer says — " several that then belonged to
Oliver," and whom it is interesting to find, continued
faithful. But for thirty years it was only at the cost of
fines, imprisonments of long duration, kicks, blows, and
violent beatings with clubs and carbines, that this
meeting was kept up. In 1663 the Kingston Friends
purchased a burying-ground in Norbiton Street, where
Gilbert Latey was interred in 1705.

Allusion has already been made to his flourishing
business as a master-tailor in the Strand. Not long
after becoming a Friend conscientious motives made
him decline taking orders for the gay, heavily-trimmed
costume, with which the fashionable gentlemen of that

GILBERT LATEY AND HIS Kit I ENDS.

429

clay attired themselves. This was no slight test of
principle, and some of his acquaintance called him mad
for throwing away his opportunity for making a fortune.
His numerous genteel customers left him, and he had to
dismiss a large staff of workmen, not knowing but that
he might be obliged to work as a journeyman himself.
But, after awhile, a moderate yet regular custom returned
to him ; and we may be sure that he had no cause to
regret this "world's ungathered prize."* In the very
midst of this trial, sorely blamed by his kinsfolk as well
as by others, he realised that " it is a blessed thing to be
immediately under the guidance of God's hand, cost
what it may," for his inward peace appears to have
abounded, and he soon, felt that the Lord had work for
him as a public minister of the Gospel ; — " to call," as
one of his converts writes, " me and many more out of
the ways of the world, and the traditions of man, to
make God's truth known."

Many of his former customers retained a high esteem
for him, at which he must have rejoiced, as it frequently
enabled him to obtain their aid on behalf of his per-
secuted brethren lying in loathsome dungeons. Gilbert
Latey was himself once committed to the Gate-house
prison in Westminster, with fifteen or sixteen others,
who had met together to worship God. They were
thrust into a perfectly dark cell, of ten feet by eleven,
with wet walls, on the cold ground of which they in
turn shared the privilege of lying, standing being the

* To one who asks his advice when, probably, perfect uprightness
and worldly profit were in the halance — Thomas Scott writes — " ' But
seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all other
things shall be added unto you.' Dare you believe this promise or
not '! I dare : and will act accordingly, by God's assistance."

430

GILBERT LATKY AND HIS FRIENDS.

only other alternative ; but they knew their Lord was
with them, and their faith did not fail. It could not
have been long after their liberation that Latey and
other Friends pleaded for permission to be impiusoned
in the stead of some among the many hundreds of their
brethren who were under^oiii" severe suffering from
close confinement.

Although not allowed to make good this noble offer,
Gilbert Latey was successful in interceding with Lord
Baltimore on behalf of the persecuted Friends in Mary-
land ; and signally so in his oft-repeated appeals to
Lord D'Aubigny with respect to the release of Katherine
Evans and Sarah Cheevers from the Inquisition. It
was when waiting on that nobleman in reference to this
subject that Latey had the conversation which has been
already related. Lord D'Aubigny had power and interest
in Malt^ and most readily listened to Latey 's tale of
the sufferings endured by the two Friends immured in
the Inquisition there. " Some of our people think your
friends are mad," he one day remarked, <; but I entertain
a very different opinion."

It was in the year 1G5S that Katherine Evans and
Sarah Cheevers sailed from London to Leghorn, on the
perilous mission of propagating the views of Friends
in some of the darker regions of the world. At Leg-
horn they distributed various books, and had daily con-
versations with people of all ranks, who perhaps thought
that what two women had ventured so far to say must
be worth the hearing. Thence they took passage for
Alexandria, but the captain of the vessel put in at
Malta, and as they were approaching the island
Katherine Evans, exclaimed, " 0, we have a dreadful

GILBERT LATEY AXD HIS FRIENDS.

431

cup to drink at that place ' " But as they sailed into
the harbour the fear of man was taken from her, and,
whilst looking at the people who were standing on the
walls, she said in her heart, " Shall ye destroy ns ! If we
give up to the Lord He is sufficient to deliver us out of
your hands." When the English Consul had seen some
of their hooks, he told them of the Inquisition, probably
wishing to warn them of the danger of their position; at
the same time he invited them to his house, where they
remained for three months. Here they received many
callers, several of whom were affected as they listened to
the solemn words of exhortation. At the request of the
Governor's sister, they visited her in her convent, con-
versing with the nuns and giving them books. Once,
when in a Roman Catholic chapel whilst the service was
being conducted, Katherine Evans knelt in the midst of
the congregation, and, with her back towards the high
altar, lifted her voice in prayer. The priest seemed to
be conscious of the heavenly influence pervading her
petitions, for, instead of seeming shocked at such an
unusual act, he laid aside his surplice and fell on his
knees by her.

During their stay at the Consul's they were frequently
examined by the Inquisitors, who, not daring to take
them from his house without his leave, succeeded in
obtaining it by the combined effect of flattery, bribery,
and threats. We cannot wonder that his guests
reminded him that Pilate would willingly do the Jews
a pleasure — yet wash his hands in innocency. When
the Chief Inquisitor told them they must retract the
views which they had avowed, or take the consequences
of a refusal to do so, they declined any recantation,

432

GILIiERT LATEV AND HIS FRIENDS.

adding, " Then God's will be done!" They were con-
fined in a stiflingly hot room, which had only two small
apertures for the admission of light and air.

In the course of a further examination, Katherine
Evans was asked whether she owned that Christ had
died at Jerusalem ; she answered, " "We own the same
< 'hrist and no other ; " and to the inquiry what she
would have done had she reached Alexandria, she
replied, "The will of God: if the Lord had opened
my mouth, I should call people to repentance, and
declare to them the day of the Lord." They were
told that they should he set free if they would
take the Holy Sacrament, otherwise the Pope would
not release them for millions of gold, and they would
lose soul and body too. "The Lord," they answered,
" hath provided for our souls, and our bodies are freely
given up to serve Him." When a friar said, "If we do
not eat the flesh and drink the blood of the Son of God
we have no life in us," — they replied, " The flesh and
blood of Christ is spiritual, and we feed upon it daily,
for that which is begotten of Cod in us can no more live
without spiritual food than our temporal bodies can live
without temporal food." To the remark that the Pope,
being Christ's vicar, acted for the good of their souls,
they responded with a holy confidence, " The Lord hath
not committed the charge of our souls to the Pope nor to
you ; for He hath taken them into His own possession.
Glory be to His name for ever ! "

They were next removed to a room where the heat
was so intense that it was thought they could not long
survive it, for it parched their skin, caused their hair to
fall off, and made them faint away ; whilst the closeness

GILBERT LATEY AND HIS FRIENDS.

433

of the apartment frequently compelled them to rise from
their bed and lie down on the floor, in the hope of
inhaling any breath of air that might find entrance
under the door. In addition to these sufferings they
were so violently stung by gnats that their faces became
swollen as with small-pox. Even the friars — one would
think — might have deemed it superfluous to offer them
the use of a scourge of small cord with which they said
they were in the habit of whipping themselves until
the blood came. But the prisoners wisely and naively
answered that their scourge could not reach the devil
that sat upon the heart.

As the Inquisition-house was being altered it was
often visited by citizens of the higher class, whom,
strange to say, Katherine Evans and Sarah Cheevers
were allowed to address on religious subjects ; and
the magistrates and chief Inquisitor, instead of being
indignant at this, gave orders that they should be
supplied with writing materials in order to com-
municate with their friends ; indeed had it not been
for the strong opposition of the monks they would
probably have been released. At one time, when in
daily expectation of being burnt, Katherine Evans
dreamt that she saw a beautiful child sitting above a
fire, playing, whilst the flames ascended around it. She
was about to withdraw it from its apparent peril, when
One who had been sitting near, and whom she took to
be the Son of God, bade her let it alone ; and then she
saw that a guardian angel was present, and that the
child was wholly unhurt. On awaking, she told her
companion not to fear, for they also were surrounded by
the heavenly host.

2 F

434

GILBERT LATEY AND HIS FKIENDS.

Soon the solace of mutual companionship was denied
them, a parting which they felt as a greater trial than
death. For nearly a year they were kept in separate
rooms ; but

" Though evil hearts together leaguing

May do the righteous wrong ;

And cruel craft, with force intriguing

Feel confidently strong ;

"VVe know, if but the Saviour's story,

With heart of faith we read,

That God through sufferings unto glory,

Salvation's sons will lead."

Although they could not — as they write — " expect

a drop of mercy, favour, or refreshment, but what the

Lord did distil from His living presence," they were

permitted not only to " behold the brightness of His

glory," but also to see their distant brethren and sisters

in the light of Jesus, and feel the benefit of their prayers,

whilst they " were refreshed in all the faithful-hearted,

and felt the issues of love and life which did stream

from the hearts of those that were wholly joined to the

Fountain." Thus were they borne up by God, and

who can assert that their mission was a vain one ?

" The whole mystery of iniquity," they add, " is at its

height, and is upheld by a law that, upon pain of death,

none must speak against it, nor walk contrary to it.

But, praises be to our God, He carried us forth to

declare against it daily !" The prison in which Katherine

Evans was confined being near the street, she often

addressed the passers-by, particularly when going and

returning to their chapel.

In one of her letters she writes as follows : —

" For the hands of John Evans, my right dear and precious
husband, with my tender-hearted children, who are more dear

GILBERT LATEY AND HIS FRIENDS.

435

and precious to me than the apple of my eye. Most dear and
faithful husband, friend, and brother, begotten of my eternal
Father, of the immortal seed of the covenant of light, life,
and blessedness, I have unity and fellowship with thee day
and night, to my great refreshment and continual comfort.
Praises, praises be given to our God for evermore, who hath
joined us together in that which neither sea nor land can
separate ! . . . Oh, the endless love of God, who is an ever-
lasting fountain of all-living refreshment, whese crystal streams
never cease running to every thirsty soul that breatheth after
the springs of life and salvation ! . . . Oh, the raptures the
glorious, bright, shining countenance of our Lord God, who
is our fulness in emptiness, our health in sickness, our life in
death, our joy in sorrow, our peace in disquietness, our praise
in heaviness, our power in all necessities. He is a full God
unto us, and to all that can trust Him. He hath emptied
us of ourselves, and hath wholly built us upon the sure foun-
dation— the Bock of Ages, Jesus Christ. ... I do believe
we shall see your faces again with joy. — K. E."

One more testimony is this to the all -sufficiency of
the grace of God — to those who take hold of His
Covenant — and a testimony given at a time when we
might naturally imagine that extreme physical pain and
oppression would have forbidden fulness of joy, how-
ever powerless they might be to shake the confidence of
faith. But as the sufferings of the prisoners abounded,
so — it is manifest — their consolations abounded also.
" Oh, the love of the Lord to my soul! " writes Sarah
Cheevers, " My tongue cannot express, neither hath it
entered into the heart of man to conceive of the things
that God hath laid up for them that fear Him. I can-
not by pen or paper set forth the large love of God in
fulfilling His gracious promises to me in the wilderness."
In the same letter she urges her husband and children
to " embrace God's love in making His truth so clearly
manifest among you, by the messengers of Christ, who

436 GILBERT LATEY AND HIS FRIENDS.

preached to you the word of God in season and out of
season, directing you where you may find your Saviour
to purge and cleanse you from your sins and to recon-
cile you to His Father." To her friends in Ireland she
writes : — " My life is given up to the service of the
Lord. Bonds, chains, bolts, irons, double-doors, death
itself, are too little for the testimony of Jesus."

When one of the friars told Katherine Evans that he
would load her with heavy chains, she answered that
whatever he did to her he could not separate her from
the love of God in Christ Jesus ; and when he there-
upon added that he would give her to the devil, she
replied, " I do not fear all the devils in hell ; the Lord
is my Keeper." When told they had not the true faith,
she answered, " By faith we stand. Dost thou think it
is by our power and holiness we are kept from sin ? "
and in response to the accusation of pride she added,
" We can glory in the Lord ; we were children of wrath,
but the Lord has quickened us by the living word of
His grace, and hath washed, cleansed, and sanctified us
in soul and spirit, in part, according to our measures ;
and we do press forwards towards that which is perfect."
So entire was the resignation granted her that when she
one day felt the spirit of prayer in an unusual degree,
whilst the language applied to her soul was, " Ask what
thou wilt, and I will grant it thee," she could only crave
that which would be for the glory of God, whether
bondage or liberty, life or death.

After their imprisonment had lasted about three
years, earnest efforts for their liberation were made by a
Friend named Daniel Baker, who spent more than three
weeks on the island, visited them repeatedly at the

GILBERT LATEY AND HIS FRIENDS. 437

risk of his life, supplied some of their wants, and took
charge of several letters to their English Friends. In
vain he pleaded with the Inquisitor on their behalf,
although he offered, first his liberty, and then his life, in
exchange for their release. When allowed to have an
interview with them, through the prison-grates, he thus
addressed them : " The whole body of God's elect, right
dearly beloved, own your testimony, and ye are a sweet
savour unto the Lord and His people." And these
were seasonable words of cheer, for one of the sufferers
answered that it was a sorrow to them that they could
not be " more serviceable." Yet surely, to them might
Milton's grand line be applied —

" They also serve who only stand and wait."

Their loyalty to their Lord in the midst of sore and
solitary suffering must, in its steadfast strength, have
been as " a spectacle unto the world, and to angels,
and to men." Even their persecutors were constrained
to admit that, although they had not the true faith, they
had all virtues, so manifestly were they preserved by
Him for whom they had suffered the loss of all things.
" The time is too little," writes Katherine Evans, " for
me to disclose the twentieth part of these terrible trials ;
but whenever we were brought upon any trial the Lord
did take away all fear from us, and gave us power
and boldness to plead for the truth of the Lord Jesus."
Liberty was offered them if they would kiss the cross,
but they of course declined it on such conditions.

Before his departure, Daniel Baker was told that they
should be released if any one would engage to pay three
or four thousand dollars should they ever return to

438

GILBERT LATKY AND HIS FKIENDS.

Malta ; otherwise, the Pope's orders were that they
should die in prison. But about six months later, after
a captivity of nearly four years, their liberation was
procured by the mediation of Lord D'Aubigny, to whom,
in addition to the urgent and frequent solicitations of
Gilbert Latey, George Fox had applied on their behalf.
Before they left the Inquisition, when courteous leave
was taken of them by the Inquisitor and magistrates-
they knelt down and piayed that God would not
lay to the charge of these officers what they had done
to them. On their arrival in London they visited Gil-
bert Latey, who accompanied them to the residence of
Lord D'Aubigny. During the interview they addressed
him on the subjects which lay nearest to their hearts,
and at its close added that, " were it in their power,
they should be as ready in all love to serve him."
" Good women," he answered, " for what kindness I
have done you, all that I shall desire of you is that
when you pray to God you will remember me in your
prayers."

Gilbert Latey was about this time a constant attender
at a meeting which had been established, chiefly in con-
sequence of his efforts, in a house at Pall Mall, the home
of a Friend named Elizabeth Trott. For a while the
company who assembled there were unmolested — a rare
circumstance in those days — but at length a justice of
the peace, with whom Latey was acquainted, and to
whose protection he had appealed, told him that he had
been much blamed for his leniency in allowing a meet-
ing to be held so near St. James's Palace, the residence
of the Duke of York, and had now received positive
orders to disperse it. These orders were soon executed,

GILBERT LATEY AND HIS FRIENDS.

439

arid Gilbert Latey and another Friend were taken away
as prisoners ; but, though imprisonment was often his
lot, Latey patiently persevered in attending the meeting
which after the death of Elizabeth Trott was removed
to the Little Almonry, where for more than a hundred
years a Friends' Meeting was kept up. One of the two
tenants on the premises being the master of a boys' school,
the Monthly Meeting, with prudent foresight, stipulated
that he should keep the windows in repair.*

In 1665, the year of the Great Plague, although
Gilbert Latey had engaged lodgings in the country,
he abandoned the idea of leaving the city whilst so
many of his brethren were in close confinement, and
continued to minister to their necessities. He likewise
visited in their own homes many Friends who had been
stricken with the terrible pestilence, and for a long
while escaped infection ; but one day, after sitting in a
cold, damp room, he took a severe chill, and was soon
afterwards seized with the disease, at his recovery from
which many grateful hearts must have rejoiced.

In 1670, after holding several meetings in his native
county and during his journey thither, Gilbert Latey
went to Kingsbridge, where the Friends were under-
going severe persecution, particularly two young ladies
who had lately joined the Society and had been com-
mitted to prison by a fiery-tempered magistrate, Justice
Bare, for non-attendance at church. As Latey was
acquainted with some influential gentlemen of Devon,
he determined to make an appeal on their behalf. One
of these gentlemen, " a great knight," who, with his

* London Friends' Meetings.

440 GILBERT LATEY AND HIS FRIENDS.

wife and daughters, gave him a kind and courteous
reception, said that he "would do more for Gilbert than
for all his friends of his persuasion in the kingdom."
Latey entreated him to attend the sessions which were
soon to be held, to require that the young prisoners
should be brought before the Bench, and to urge the
justices to release them. When the sessions took place,
this gentleman succeeded in appeasing Justice Bare's
indignation, and whilst dining with him and the other
magistrates, told them that he had been importuned to
use his interest with them for " two fine young women
Quakers," imprisoned for not going to church, and begged
them to favour him by setting them at liberty. From
his position there was little danger of such a request
being refused, but he knew there was still a difficulty
to be overcome : the Friends would probably feel a
conscientious objection to paying the prison fees of an
unjust confinement, and might therefore be detained
on that ground. So he laid down some money on the
table, and said, " We must among ourselves collect as
much to give the gaoler as will answer their fees ; and,
here, I will begin." An account of the liberation of the
Friends being sent to Latey, he did not forget to return
" his humble acknowledgment to the knight."

Before leaving Cornwall Gilbert Latey had learnt, by
letters from his London friends, that steps had been
taken towards pulling down Horselydown Meeting-
house, and that Sir John Ptobinson, the Governor of the
Tower, had given similar orders for that at Batcliff;
and finally he was informed that Wheeler Street Meet-
ing-house, the title of which he owned, was doomed to
like destruction. Sir John Piobinson, a bitter persecutor

GILBERT LATEY AND HIS FRIENDS.

441

of Friends, was a very formidable enemy, and had been
in the habit of sending scores of the quiet Wheeler
Street worshippers to the " New Prison," the gaoler of
which fully carried out the Governor's wishes by his
cruel treatment of the captives ; not content with
severely beating and half-starving them, he induced
the felons under his care to rob them of the food which
their friends brought them.

Latey made up his mind that this meeting-house
should not share the fate of the others from any
timidity with respect to defending the title of it. On
his return to London he bade his attorney make a
formal lease of the premises, and let them to a poor
Friend. This being accomplished, he felt himself quite
ready to face the Governor, who asked him how he
dared own any meeting-house contrar}* to the King's
laws. To this he answered that he had owned it before
such a law was in existence. " I find you are a pretty
fellow," said Sir John — " pray who lives in the meeting-
house ? " " My tenant," said Latey. " Your tenant !
What is your tenant ? " exclaimed the astonished
Governor. " One that I have thought good to grant a
lease to," was the quiet answer. The Governor finding
himself fairly matched, turned to a Friend, who had
previously had an interview with him, and said, " I
think you have now fitted me. You have brought a
fellow to the purpose ; had your friends been all as
wise as this fellow, you might have had your other
meeting-houses ! " This hint, given on the impulse of
the moment, was taken full advantage of.

In company with George Whitehead, Gilbert Latey
made many appeals, and often with success, to Charles

442

GILBERT LA.TEY AND HIS FRIENDS.

IT., James TI., and William III., for the persecuted
Friends ; a service in which they were frequently cheered
V y their consciousness of the Lord's help. In 1683 they
went to Hampton Court, in order to lay before King
Charles the case of sixty-three Friends of Norwich,
who were suffering a cruel imprisonment for the offence
of assembling for Divine worship. They met the King
in the park and, at their entreaty, he stood still
and reach]}' gave heed to their complaint. He then
entered into conversation with them, and, amongst other
remarks, said, " You will not pull off your hats, and
what have you to say for that ? " "If to any mortal,"
was Gilbert Latey's answer, " then to the King in the
first place ; but it is a matter of conscience, and we
only do it when we approach the Lord in prayer."*
" I admire to see such wise men Quakers," observed
Charles, who was in a gracious mood. The unusual
clemency granted the Friends at the next assizes at
Norwich, when they were released and not charged
with prison fees, was, with good ground, supposed to
be the result of this appeal.

Whilst deeply interesting himself in thus publicly
aiding his distressed brethren, Gilbert Latey did not
overlook more private cases of sorrow ; to the poor, the

* " In the reign of Charles II., writes Hepworth Dixon, " men
wore their hats in house and church as well as in the street and
park. Men sat at meals in felt, and listened to a play in felt. ' I
got a strange cold in my head,' wrote Pepys, ' by flinging off my hat
at dinner.' Every one ate covered. ... A preacher mounted to the
pulpit in his hat : the av/dience wore their hats, and only doffed
them at the name of God. . . . Hat lifting therefore was a sign of
a depraved and foreign fashion recently brought into England from
abroad. All sober men put on their hats, while wits and fopling.s
carried them in their hands."

(ilLDERT LA.TF.Y AND HIS FKIKXDS.

443

bereaved, and the sick, he was ever a friend in need.
One day when lie was receiving a business order from
Lady Sawkell at her residence, her husband, who was
accustomed to treat him with kindness and familiarity,
entered the room, and asked him what meeting he
usually attended. He replied that he sometimes went
to one and sometimes to another. Sir William Sawkell,
who had a command in a regiment of horse, then said,
" The reason I ask is because I have had orders to
break up a meeting of. your people at Hammersmith
next Sunday from so high a hand that I dare not omit
executing them, and therefore I speak in kindness to
you, that if at any time you go thither, you may refrain
coining that day." On hearing this Latey at once felt
that it would be right for him to go to Hammersmith,
notwithstanding this warning, and so he told Sir Wil-
liam as he left his house. Commissioned by his Lord,
and upheld by His protecting presence, he was power-
fully engaged in ministry when the troopers entered
Hammersmith Meeting. For some time they stood still,
silently listening to his earnest words; but after a while
one of them exclaimed, whilst suiting the action to the
word — "This man will never have done, let us pull him
down." " Let your officer know that I am here, and
my name is Gilbert Latey," he said. The hale and
jovial commander entered trembling, and did not speak
at once ; but, when somewhat less agitated, said, " Latev,
did I not tell you that I was commanded to be here
to-day ?" "And did not I also tell thee I was com-
manded by a greater than thou, that I must be here
also?" "Go, get thee gone about thy business," an-
swered Sir William ; " I will take care concerning the

444

GILBERT LATEY AND HIS FRIENDS.

rest here met." " If thou hast any respect for me,"
was Latey's response, " then discharge all the rest, and
let me be thy prisoner." This request was acceded
to, and resulted in his being fined, whilst some who
had been present were distrained upon. But Latey's
repeated entreaties that others might not suffer in con-
sequence of anything he had said or done were given
heed to, and the goods were ultimately returned to their
lawful owners. So ready was he to take on himself the
penalties intended for his friends, that at one time there
were warrants out against him for several hundred
pounds.

His ministry, which was much blessed, was chiefly
confined to London and its vicinity, where it was his
wont to go to various meetings as his mind was attracted
to them* When at Exeter, in 1679, he solicited an
interview with Bishop Lamplugh, whom he wished to
thank for the frequent favours he had freely bestowed
on the Friends residing in his diocese, sometimes in
consequence of representations made him by Gilbert
Latey. A warm welcome awaited him at the palace,
where the Bishop took him in his arms and blessed
him, and then, leading him into a private room, said,
" All must not know how well you and I love one
another. What wine shall I give you?" To this
Latey replied that he had given his love, which was
better than wine, — and then at his host's request, took
a seat by his side. In a letter to Latey Dr. Lamplugh

* He would have united in the sentiment lately expressed by an
American minister, on the great desirability of Friends attending
different meetings in their own neighbourhood, " without waiting
for any appointment but the appointment of the Holy Spirit."

GILBERT LATEY AND HIS FKIEXDS.

445

remarks : " I never was nor will be for persecution, but
shall endeavour that by any amicable way such as have
erred may be brought into the way of truth, and that
we may all enjoy one another in heaven. . . . God
Almighty bless you : I am your true loving friend,
Thomas Exon."

When James II. ascended the throne fourteen
hundred and sixty Friends were confined in the
prisons of England and Wales, in the damp and
noisome dungeons of which many had already died.
Husbands had been parted from wives, parents from
children, and whole families deprived of the means of
support. Gilbert Latey shared in George Whitehead's
unwearied efforts and prayers for their relief; and the
health of both was injured by the mental strain and
physical fatigue incurred in obtaining warrants and
getting them executed. At length the former, though
scarcely able to get into a carriage, left li is wife and
children, with the hope of gaining some invigoration
from country air ; but, after only a week's rest, a letter
from George Whitehead reached him stating that he
was himself too ill to leave the house, and urging him to
return to town if possible. He lifted his heart to the
Lord for strength for the service which lay before
him, went back to London, and attended at the " Pipe
Office" until the matter was satisfactorily settled, result-
ing in the liberation of a great number of Friends. It
was also at the solicitation of Whitehead and Latey
that the meeting-houses at the Park, Southwark, and at
the Savoy, in the Strand, were restored to Friends by
the King, after being used as guard-houses ; the former
had been greatly damaged by the soldiers, who had

446 GILBERT LATEY AND HIS FRIENDS.

carried off wainscotting, benches, doors, and casements;
and then cut down and burnt the surrounding trees.

Latey's own dwelling was on the same premises as
the Savoy Meeting-house, which stood in a paved yard,
and was accessible through a passage which lay under-
neath his house, and terminated in a stone staircase.
Mary Latey writes of how " her dear and well-beloved
husband was given up in perilous times of sufferings, a
constant testimony-bearer to the way of the Lord and
His power, which was felt to attend His people in their
meetings, even when they were kept without doors in
the wet and cold, where he often stood, bearing witness
to the truth and way of the Lord. In all which,"
she adds, " I never did persuade, or dared desire him
either to go to this meeting or not to go to that, but
always left him his freedom to go where his Lord did
order him, in which I had, and still have, great peace."

One day Gilbert Latey met with George Whitehead
and William Penn at Whitehall, and was asked to go
with them to wait on the King. He did not at once
fall in with the proposal, but presently felt it would be
right to say a few words to King James, with whom
they had an almost private interview. After his friends
had addressed him, Gilbert Latey said that they wished
to " humbly acknowledge " the kindness which he had
manifested to them as a people in their time of great
affliction. " I truly desire," he added, " that God may
show the King mercy and favour in the time of his
trouble and sore distress." James merely replied, " I
thank you ; " but a considerable time afterwards, when
in Ireland, he requested a Friend to give the following
message to Latey, " Tell him, the words he spake to me

GILBEKT LATEY AND HIS FlilENDS.

447

I shall never forget ; the one part of them is come, and
I pray God the other may also come to pass." When
Latey uttered them he was wholly unaware that a
political crisis was at hand.

In 1G94, encouraged by the Meeting for Sufferings,
Gilbert Latey and some other Friends laid before William
III. the severity of suffering incurred by their brethren
or themselves in consequence of their scruple with re-
ference to oaths. They reminded him of how leniently
some of his family had dealt with the Mennonites under
similar circumstances, and begged that the English
Friends " might partake of his royal favour." Cheered
by his answer, they also applied to some of the Ministers
of State, and leading members of the House of Com-
mons ; and even eminent Peers and Commoners sug-
gested that they should present a petition on the sub-
ject. At every reading the House divided on the Bill,
and a large number, who were usually inclined to be very
hard upon Dissenters, gave it their support.

Great surprise was awakened by this, which one noble-
man expressed to Latey. At the same time there were
other members who violently opposed the measure, and
one of these, a very influential man, when the Bill was
about to be read for the last time, went out to gather
together as many members as might be, from the Court
of Kequests and elsewhere, in order to induce them to
accompany him to the House, and vote against it. But,
when on the point of re-entering with his recruits, he
found that all his pains would be unavailing, for he was
just too late to take part in the division; the door was
shut, and the order that the lobby should be cleared had
been given. The Friends, whose fervent prayers had

448 GILBERT LATEY AND HIS FRIENDS.

that day ascended for the aid of the Almighty, could
but recognise His hand in this circumstance ; nor did
their faith fail during the long months that elapsed from
the time of their first application to the King, to the
day when the Bill finally passed the House of Lords.
The extreme importance attached by Friends to this
measure, the prayerfulness and intense earnestness with
which they carried it to a successful issue, are ample
proof of the vast amount of suffering they had endured
in consecpience of their steadfast adherence to a religious
conviction.

In his old age, Gilbert Latey also occasionally applied
to Queen Anne on behalf of his oppressed brethren.
It was said of him by a contemporary — well able from
his own position to make the estimate — that " of all the
men among Friends he ever knew or heard of, he never
followed a man that had a sweeter character than Gil-
bert Latey at Court." In addition to his interviews with
royalty, he had many of a similar kind with dukes, mar-
quises, earls, barons, and bishops. At such seasons it
was his wont to give himself up to God's guidance ; and
he advised any who might be called to a like service
" to feel the love of God in their hearts, and in that,
and in great humility, to make their approaches, keep-
ing to the anointing spoken of in 1 John ii. 27.

As his strength declined he spent much time in the
country. His spiritual vigour was undiminished, and
was especially conspicuous when, a few months before
his death, he one day preached in Hammersmith Meet-
ing what proved to be his last sermon. It would seem
that no other minister was present, and a large company
had assembled, whom he was enabled to address for

GILBERT LATEY AND HIS FRIENDS.

449

nearly an hour with remarkable power and unction,
inviting all to come to God " in and through the Lord
Jesus Christ, the way and only means to restore man
into the ima^e and favour of God."

The night before his death he earnestly spoke to
those around him — as if he had been in a meeting — of
love and tenderness, and of how God would bless such
as were found therein. The following day he did not
leave his chamber, but was able to speak freely to his
friends. " There is no condemnation to them that are
in Christ Jesus," he said ; " He is the lifter-up of my
head, He is my strength and great salvation." He died
in 1705, in his seventy-ninth year. He had been very
solicitous for the best welfare of his children — eleven
in number — only two of whom outlived an early youth.
" I believe," writes his widow, " no woman ever parted
with a better husband, nor children with a more tender
father or more sincere man. It is the Lord's will to
remove him, and in that I endeavour and desire to be
content."

The same spirit that animated Gilbert Latey and
upheld Katherine Evans and Sarah Cheevers may be
manifested in very quiet lives, when placed at the
Divine disposal. By the man of business who, strictly
upright and unselfish, scorns to substitute any merely
conventional standard of trade morality for the law of
Christ, and who uses his leisure with conscientious
care ; by the earnest student who dedicates his culti-
vated intellect to the service of its Almighty Giver ;
by the patient mother ever striving to train her children
for heaven, and consequently for good lives on earth ;
by the young and joyous freely yielding the fresh

2 G

450

GILBERT LATEY AND HIS FRIENDS.

fragrance of their lives to the Lord who died for them ;
by the chronic invalid animated to many small ser-
vices by love and loyalty to Him who once said, " She
hath done what she could ; " by unmurmuring sufferers,
bearing a secret cross, who live the life they now live
by faith in the Son of God, with an absolutely un-
wavering trust in His love, and a calm certainty that
what they know not now of the needs-be for His deal-
ings with them, they shall know hereafter ; by all and
any who, having an intense and practical conviction
that "the things which are seen are temporal, but the
things which are not seen are eternal," and that

" The world we cannot see, with that we view
Is alway blending "■ —

can say, in the words of George Herbert, " / am hut
finite, yet Thine infinitely."

QEORQE WHITEHEAD.

"... a vast, all-mastering, all-possessing faith answering all the
ends of righteousness, nay, it is righteousness. . . . The faith itself
sweeps to the outermost skirts of conduct, and infuses its devotion
into every act and feeling." — Hunger.

453

GEOEGE WHITEHEAD.

" No mortal cloth know
What He can bestow,
What light, strength and comfort do after Him go ;
So onward I'll move,
And but Christ above,
None guesses how wondrous the journey will prove."

Old Hymn.

" Sixty blessed years of active service for his Lord."
Thus spoke a minister of the Society of Friends in
reference to George Whitehead. Addressing himself
especially to his younger hearers, he queried, " Who
were the chief workers in Apostolic times, and in the
early days of our Society ? Not the old, but the young.
And why should it not be so now 1 "

George Whitehead was one of the ministers, more
than sixty in number, to whom George Fox thus alludes
under date of 1G54 : — " About this time did the Lord
move upon the spirits of many whom He had raised
up, to travel in the service of the Gospel." Upheld
" not by might nor by power," but by the Spirit of the
Lord, they went forth, and did His bidding, and the
natural consequences of such heaven-commissioned
labours ensued. Of many of their number it might be
said — as Francis Howgill did say of Edward Burrough
— " his very strength was 'bended after God ; " men who
could thank Him for having bestowed on them not
only loyal hearts and willing hands, but also the good
gifts of youthful vigour and manly strength, wherewith

454

GEORGE WHITEHEAD.

steadfastly to uphold and display the banner of the
Captain of their salvation. Surely in this our day there
is no less need of such standard-hearers for the army of
the Lord of Hosts, who —

" Saved by a Divine alliance
From terror of defeat,"

would with unfaltering step and undaunted spirit follow
Him who is going forth now, " conquering and to con-
quer," and " of the increase of whose government and
peace there shall he no end."

George Whitehead was horn in the parish of Orton,
Westmoreland, about the year 1C36, and his heart had
in early life been drawn to seek after God, though such
longings were too often quenched whilst he indulged
himself in unsatisfying worldly pleasures. In reference
to his state at the age of fourteen, after writing of his
dissatisfaction with the teaching of the Presbyterians,
he says: — "Being at a loss in my spirit for what I
sometimes secretly desired, I was as one bewildered,
and wandered, further, seeking among other people who
had some higher and more refined notions concerning
Spiritual gifts." Soon he hears of a people called
Quakers, towards whom he feels so much attracted as
even " to contend for them and their principles," before
being present at any of their meetings. After a while,
however, he attended one, which was held at the house
of a Captain Ward, of Sunny-Bank, near Kendal. Here,
although interested in the ministry of a Friend named
Thomas Arcy, he was chiefly impressed by what he
1 erms the great work of the power of the Lord in the
meeting, breaking the heart of divers into great sorrow."

GEOltGE WHITEHEAD.

455

One young girl in the bitterness of her grief left the
meeting, and was followed by George Whitehead, who
found her sitting on the ground, with her face towards
it, so regardless of everything but her own overwhelm-
ing sense of sinfulness that she was crying out, "Lord,
make me clean ! " This circumstance reached his heart
more effectually than any sermon he had ever heard ;
for he believed that the distress he had seen that morn-
ing was effected by the Spirit of God, and that it was
the forerunner of pardon, regeneration and sanctification
through Christ — as in many cases it proved to be.

His belief that the Lord was about to raise up a
people to worship Him in spirit and in truth grew
stronger ; and as ic did so, notwithstanding the bitter
speeches of his kindred, he regularly attended the
meetings at Sedbergh and Grayrigg, and soon identified
himself with Friends, whose conversation and fellowship
were very congenial to him. Meanwhile he was learn-
ing, from no human teacher, that " without being con-
verted as well as convinced," he could not enter into
the Kingdom of God. Fervent also were his yearnings
to be " truly renewed in the spirit of his mind, and
therein joined to the Lord ; " and whilst willingly
enduring His Fatherly chastening, his heart was melted
by the realisation of His mercy through Christ.

In the meetings which George Whitehead attended
from his sixteenth to his eighteenth year there was
but little preaching, indeed they were often held in
silence ; but it must have been a " living silence," for
he writes of " many blessed and comfortable seasons
of refreshment from the presence of our Heavenly
Father ; " and it was in these and similar meetings

456

GEORGE WHITEHEAD.

in the North, that the Lord was raising up a noble
band, whose influence should soon be felt throughout
the length and breadth of the land. " Waiting in true
silence upon Him," writes George Whitehead, " and
eyeing His inward appearance in spirit, and the work
of His power in us, we came truly to feel our strength
renewed in living faith, true love, and holy zeal for His
name. 0 ! thus keeping silence before the Lord, and
thus drawing near to Him, is the way for renewing our
strength, and to be His ministers to speak to others
only what He first speaks to us." Already, to the
comfort of his friends, he occasionally expressed a few
words in these meetings. At the same time, having
yielded himself to the control and teaching of Christ,
he was led on, surely if slowly, towards " the victory
over Satan." With the firm belief that God will reveal
to the seeking soul — in His own good time — the
mystery of " Christ in us the hope of glory," he was
constrained to wait in faith for this revelation, by which
he might experience more and more of " the power and
coming of Christ in Spirit, as his Sanctifier, Teacher,
and Guide."

After striving to influence for good those amongst
whom he dwelt, when in his eighteenth year a weighty
concern, he says, came on him to travel Southwards. A
young friend of his offered to bear him company, and
they set out on foot in the direction of York. In the
course of this journey his heart was cheered by meeting
with George Fox, Alexander Parker, John Whitehead,
and also Eichard Hubberthorn, whom he visited in
Norwich Castle, where he was confined in a cell on a
cross-wall. At Diss, George Whitehead met with

GEORGE WHITEHEAD.

457

William Barber, a man of influential position and a
captain in the army, "who was deeply affected during a
religious interview which Whitehead had with himself
and some others. " Truth was near in him," writes
George Whitehead, " and I felt him near it, and my
heart was open and tender towards him in the love of
Christ." Both his wife and himself became Friends, and
patiently bore the long trial of his twenty years' im-
prisonment in Norwich Castle, the result chiefly of the
malice borne him by an elderly clergyman in conse-
quence of his scruples with respect to the payment of
tithes. On his return to Norwich, George Whitehead
soon found himself an inmate of the city gaol, where
he suffered much from cold durins: a confinement of
ekdit weeks. Whilst he was riding out of the town of

o o

Bepham, after holding a meeting there, he thought it
right to address the people in the streets ; as they
violently stoned him, he could not at first keep his
horse sufficiently still for his purpose, but when they
grew calmer, he " cleared his conscience " to them, and
felt that the presence of the Lord kept him from
bodily injury.

George Whitehead held several meetings in a private
house at Wymondham, one of which was attended by a
Captain John Lawrence, who was so much impressed as
to ask Whitehead to hold a meeting at Wramplingham,
an invitation which the latter gladly accepted. Three
clergymen, who greatly despised his youth, were present
in order to oppose him ; but they found that the boyish
preacher, though answering them in the spirit of meek-
ness, was invested with an authority which they could
not withstand ; for ere this he had learnt that " the

458

GEORGE WHITEHEAD.

more low he was in himself, the more God would
manifest His power, and bless his service." After this
meeting, the wife of one of the clergymen said to a
sister-in-law of John Lawrence, in allusion to a playful
remark which that lady had previously made, " Now
Mrs. Bedwell, I know you will be of the Quaker's side,
for you said you would be for the strongest." This sur-
mise was a correct one, and from Whitehead we learn
that Elizabeth Bedwell " continued a faithful innocent
Friend until death;" and also that Captain Lawrence,
and many members of his family, as well as several
others, were " convinced of the Truth." Notwithstand-
ing the persecution which befell him Captain Lawrence
steadfastly stood his ground, and there were many who
were led by the example of his family and himself to
seek for Christ as their Saviour, their Teacher and their
High Priest. He had been a member of an Independent
congregation, the pastor and elders of which now desired
to excommunicate him ; and when in the following
year they summoned him to a meeting held in a church
at Norwich, he was accompanied thither by George
Whitehead.

After John Lawrence had explained his reasons for
separating from them, George Whitehead arose to address
the large company who had assembled, but soon found
himself on the ground, held down in a pew, whence he
was dragged out of the church and consigned to the
mercies of the clamorous mob, who were waiting to lay
violent hands on the young preacher, whom they pulled
through the Market-place and streets, and sometimes
threw down on the stones. Soon they reached one of
the city gates, near which was the residence of a certain

0E01IGE WHITEHEAD.

459

Lady Hubbard; just at that moment, although still
pursued by the rabble, he could choose whether to go
towards her house, or to leave the city by the road
which lead to Wraniplingham — a choice which filled
him with perplexity, for he was well aware that his
life was in imminent peril. But in the midst of the
bewildering tumult he lifted his heart to the Lord,
asking Him to grant him His guidance ; — a prayer
which was answered by the idea which at once arose
in his mind that, if he must needs lose his life, his
death would be more likely to tend to the glory of God
within the city. To whatever might be His will he
abandoned himself; and then turned to ascend the
hill on the summit of which the mansion stood. The
shouting of the infuriated crowd made Lady Hubbard's
chaplain and most of the family come out to discover
the cause of so great an uproar. One would hardly
think it an appropriate time for a theological discussion,
yet the chaplain engaged George Whitehead in one of
half-au-hour's duration, while his persecutors formed
a circle around them. "When this conversation was
ended a soldier came up to Whitehead and offered to
accompany him to his lodgings, whither lie safely
guarded him, whilst with his hand laid on his sword
he ordered the crowd to make way. Twenty-five years
later, when a prisoner in Norwich Castle, George White-
head met with a friend from Lynn, named Lobert
Turner, whom, it would seem, he had previously known
by report, and, to his astonishment, found in him his
magnanimous rescuer from the rabble. Notwithstanding
the cruelties imposed on imprisoned Friends, often with
flagrant criminals for their companions, it is not strange

460

GEORGE WHITEHEAD.

that George Whitehead should say that in those days
prisons were as sanctuaries to them from the fury of
the moh. Ignorant and undisciplined as the latter
were, with passions, if suppressed, ready to burst into
flames at any moment, we may well believe that less
guilt rested upon them than upon the cultivated clergy
and magistrates who, well knowing what consequences
would ensue, deliberately laid the match to such materials.

Much blessing rested on these early labours of George
Whitehead, and in his old age he writes that it was still
a very memorable matter to him that by " preaching
livingly the New Covenant, the Word nigh to people in
their hearts, yea, the Gospel of the free grace and love of
God to mankind, many were effectually convinced and
persuaded of the blessed ever-living truth as it is in
Christ Jesus. And how diligent," he continues, " were
many in those clays, in going many miles to Friends'
meetings, both ancient and young, men and women,
maidens and children ! What love, what brokenness
and tenderness would be in meetings in those days of
their first love and espousals unto Christ Jesus in His
light, life, and spirit."

After the release of Bichard Hubberthorn, George
Whitehead and he held some meetings in [Norfolk. One
of those who cast in his lot with Friends from that part
of England was William Bennet, who afterwards advo-
cated his Eedeemer's cause by his holy life and conver-
sation, his ministry, and his patient endurance of much
and severe persecution. Tribulation had taught him, like
many others, how to comfort the sorrowful. In an Epistle
to Friends, dated from Bury Common Gaol, he writes : —
" And the Lord comfort the mourning ones among you,

GEORGE WHITEHEAD.

4G1

that those who have lain mourning in the pits of distrust,
fears, doublings, carnal reasonings, may mount over all
upon the wings of Faith, and flow to the goodness of the
Lord, and eat of His house, and drink of the river of
His pleasures, and he satisfied ; and bless, praise, and
magnify the Lord in the land of the living." Gough
writes : — " He was carried forth in meetings in more than
ordinary manner, and was a blessed instrument to
many, in turning them to God."

At Charfield, near Woodbridge, George Whitehead had
a remarkable meeting in an orchard, with a slippery
stool for his pulpit ; a very large and varied crowd had
surrounded him, amongst whom, he believed, were not
a few true seekers after God. Whilst the people were
eagerly waiting for His words, he was waiting upon the
Lord, " for His power to arise ; " nor did he wait in vain.
Wonderful ability was given him " to preach the ever-
lasting Gospel, in the Name and Power of our Lord
Jesus Christ," for the space of nearly five hours. And
the truths declared found an entrance into many hearts
as an effectual message from the Lord. Whilst George
Whitehead was speaking a Baptist preacher expressed
disapproval of the views held by Friends with respect
to the ordinances. " I gave answer to him in the spirit
of meekness," says George Whitehead, "being called
into a spiritual ministry in order to bring people out of
shadows to the substance ; . . . . nor to rest only in a
literal knowledge of Christ, but that they might knoio
Him livingly and inwardly after the Spirit." The
Baptist soon ceased to argue, and so deep was the
impression made on his mind that, after a while, he
exchanged his position as the leader of a Baptist con-

462

GEORGE WHITEHEAD.

gregation for that of a learner of the Lord in a Friends'
meeting: joining the Society, he became in later years
an earnest minister, striving to bring his hearers to a
true knowledge of Christ and His spiritual baptism. In
both Norfolk and Suffolk many meetings were before
long established.

Whilst at Colchester, George Whitehead visited
James Parnel, who was imprisoned in the castle, and
who, although younger than his friend, had preached the
Gospel to thousands in that town, fearlessly shaking the
sandy foundation on which too many were standing.
" Profession and talk of religion and Church," writes
George Whitehead, " did greatly abound in those days ;
. . . summer shows of religion which would not endure
a stormy winter." James Parnel was comforted by his
visit, and then the two young men, both under twenty
years of age, parted probably not to meet again on earth ;
the one soon to obtain a martyr's crown ; the other to
labour on for nearly seventy years more, glorifying God
alike in willing service and patient suffering ; yet each
led by a right way to a city of habitation, — that way in
which, whether rough or smooth, the sons of God* would
elect to walk, because, whether always realising the
comfort of His presence or not, they know that He is
ever with them there.

At Bures, George Whitehead and a Friend named
Harwood, who was then travelling with him, were
arrested and taken before a justice of the peace. Although
quite unable to charge them with breaking the law, he

* " Son of God, applied to a Christian, signifies one born of God, in
the deepest relation to Him, and hence a partaker of His nature."
— Alford.

GEOKGE WHITEHEAD.

4G3

committed them to the gaol at Bury St. Edmund's, there
for a period of two or three months to await the sessions,
at which they were tried as common disturbers of the
peace. This judge was himself their accuser in spite of
his position on the bench, and found it expedient to
threaten the gaoler with a fine of forty shillings if he
did not silence the prisoners should they speak in self-
defence. An accommodating jury brought in a verdict
of Guilty, and a fine of twenty nobles each was imposed
on the Friends. This they refused to pay, on the ground
that such payment would imply an acknowledgment of
guilt ; so they were sent back to prison, where, with
some other Friends, they suffered cruelly during a year's
captivity. They were released by an order from Oliver
Cromwell, to whom application had been made, especially
by a gentlewoman of his household. This lady had been
convinced of the principles of Friends during Francis
Howgill's visit to the Protector, and had afterwards
joined the Society. <: The place was sanctified to us,"
says George Whitehead, after stating that they were
confined with felons in the common ward which bore a
close resemblance to a noisome dungeon. Here they
were kicked and wounded by one of their drunken com-
panions, who took advantage of the fact that they would
not retaliate, although so well fitted by youthful strength
and spirit to do so. " But," "Whitehead writes — " We
esteemed it greater valour, and more Christian, patiently
to suffer such injuries for Christ, than to fight for Him
or avenge ourselves ; " a triumph of grace greater than
the taking of a city. So violently were they often
struck by some of their fellow-prisoners, or by the
gaoler, that the blood gushed from their mouths and

464

GEORGE WHITEHEAD.

noses ; and once they were confined for nearly four
hours in a dark and loathsome dungeon, where, as was
often their wont, they sang praises to the Lord, " in the
sweet enjoyment and living sense of His glorious pre-
sence." During this long imprisonment their health
did not materially suffer. " The Lord by His power,"
writes George Whitehead, " so sanctified the confine-
ment to me, that I had great peace, comfort, and sweet
solace ; and was sometimes transported and wrapt up in
spirit as if in a pleasant field, having the fragrant scent
and sweet smell of flowers and things growing therein :
though I was not in an ecstasy or trance, my senses
being affected therewith." The consolation freely and
graciously granted in that time of great trial could never
have been forgotten ; and was perhaps given him not
only for present aid, but also as an earnest of sufficient
grace for every future need.

A sharp ordeal was near at hand. After " very good
service" in London, Essex, etc., George Whitehead
appointed a meeting at the house of a Friend who lived
at Nayland, in Suffolk, and who, before the meeting
began, came to him weeping with the news that some
vicious men of that town threatened to kill him if he
carried out his intention. They would have been greatly
astonished had they seen the calmness with which he
received this menace ; for his was a courage which,
bestowed by Christ, could only be understood by those
who knew its source. " I pitied the man," he writes,
"and told him I did not fear them, and would not
disappoint the meeting." But, lest the house should
be pulled down, the large congregation adjourned to a
meadow, where they remained for nearly three hours,

GEORGE WHITEHEAD.

465

and George Whitehead " had a good and full oppor-
tunity to declare and demonstrate the living Truth
with power and dominion given of God, whose power
was over all."

When holding another meeting at Nayland, a few
weeks later, George Whitehead was violently arrested
and taken — as he says — to his " old adversary," the
justice who had previously acted with extreme unfair-
ness. Whilst waiting in his hall Whitehead silently
prayed that, if it were in accordance with the will
of God, he might not undergo another imprisonment
in the gaol at Bury St. Edmunds ; this prayer was
answered, and the belief given him that it was not by
loss of liberty, but by stripes, that he was now to suffer.
His comment on this is an illustration of what has
been called, " the marvellousness and utter unnatural-
ness of the new creature." " Whereupon I was greatly
refreshed, strengthened, and given up in the will of the
Lord patiently to endure that punishment, . . . it being
for Christ's sake, and His gospel truth ; wherein I had
great peace and strong consolation in Him." A warrant
was drawn up sentencing him to be whipped on the
following day " till his body be bloody." That night,
lodging at a public-house, he " rested quietly in much
peace." He bore the punishment, " by the Lord's
power," not only with patience, but with praise and
rejoicing, although it was inflicted with such cruelty
as to make some of the numerous bystanders weep,
whilst others cried out to the constable to desist. As
might be expected, the people of that district after-
wards flocked together to hear him ; the hearts of many
were effectually reached, and the truths which he was

2 H

466

GEORGE WHITEHEAD.

commissioned to preach -were more widely sown ; so
that, to quote his own words, " the dark wrath of man
turned to the praise of God." He found himself
especially called to labour in that part of the country
which had been the scene of his persecution, and did
so unmoved by threats of branding and hanging. His
visits also to some of the Midland counties were at-
tended with blessed effects ; for he writes : " The Word
of Life being plenteously in my heart and ministry,
enabled me by His power largely to preach, and greatly
assisted me in the defence of the Gospel of our blessed
Lord Jesus Christ."

In the midst of these labours he was laid low by a
dangerous fever; but one night when it was at its
height, he was revived by the clear sense given him,
that the Lord would raise him up to continue to labour
for Him. When, after an absence of three years, he
re-entered his father's house, he was received as one
restored from death, for tidings of his hardships and
sufferings had reached his distant home. The bitter
prejudice against Friends with which his parents'
hearts had been filled by the clergy had altogether
passed away, and George Whitehead did not doubt
that the Lord had secretly pleaded his cause. The
storms he had encountered, were now exchanged for
a restful season spent in visits to several northern
meetings, where he was warmly welcomed by Friends
in whom, he says : " The first love was fresh and
lively, and was retained to the end of their days."
But soon the eastern counties again attracted him,
where, as it proved, an imprisonment of sixteen weeks
in Ipswich Gaol was in store for him.

GEORGE WHITEHEAD.

4G7

During the years 1058 and 1659, Whitehead was
engaged in many public religious disputations, in con-
sequence of the utterly erroneous ideas current concern-
in" the views of Friends, and which were the more
readily accepted from the fact that many of the clergy
denounced the Quakers from their pulpits. A detailed
account of these discussions might not he of general
interest, but perhaps a few extracts from the voluminous
writings of George Whitehead may be suitably substituted,
many of these being of a controversial character : — ■

" He who was as a Lamb slain from the foundation of the,
world, and by the grace of God tasted death for every man,
ever liveth to make intercession for man according to the will
of God. . . . Ilis being given as our Mediator between God
and men, and His giving Himself a ransom for all men, a tes-
timony in due time, and His tasting death for every man —
did all proceed from the great love of God, and not to pay a
strict or rigid satisfaction for vindictive justice or revenge on
God's part. . . . Surely that righteousness and forbearance
of God, declared by the propitiatory sacrifice of our Lord
Jesus Christ for the remission or forgiveness of sins that are
past, upon true repentance, cannot justly be deemed revenge
or vindictive justice, as some have asserted against us. . . .
Oh ! Behold the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of
the world. 1st. As an universal and most excellent offering,
and acceptable sacrifice for sin, in order to obtain redemption
and forgiveness by His precious blood, etc. 2nd. Jesus
Christ as the Lamb of God takes away the sin of the world,
by purging the conscience and purifying the hearts of all them
who truly receive Him and believe in Him, even in His Holy
jjame and Divine Power. ... He never designed to leave
men in sin and transgression all their days, but to afford all
men grace to lead them to true repentance, that they might
receive that remission, forgiveness, atonement and reconci-
liation, obtained for them. . . . The Holy Ghost takes and
shows unto us the most excellent properties of our great and
glorious Mediator — His great universal love, meekness,

463

GEOEGE WHITEHEAD.

humility, and compassion, that we may by degrees partake
thereof, as we truly obey and follow Him in the manifestation
of the same Holy Spirit, whereby the mystery of Christ is
revealed in and unto the truly spiritually-minded believers."

In one of these discussions he maintained that " the
grace of God, in and through Jesus Christ, was sufiicient
for the blessed attainment of perfect sanctifieation, per-
severance in grace, and abiding in Christ." * But
although Whitehead and some of his brethren thought
it good to engage in these arguments at times, it was
more frequently their wont " to press upon men to look
more to the genuine fruits of the Spirit, as the tests of
their Christianity, than to any form of words, or any
explanation of Divine truth which human wisdom had
been able to propose."

The issue of the proclamation against conventicles,
soon after the accession of Charles II., caused a renewal
of attacks on Friends with more tangible and formidable
weapons than words from pulpit or platform. One day,
when George Whitehead was travelling alone on the
highway, he besought the Lord, with deep feeling and
fervour, to plead the ca\rse of His people ; and an
assurance was given him that the evil schemes of the
persecutors should be finally frustrated, and that God
would defend, and in due time deliver, His suffering

* " The question what attainments we have made, lies wholly be-
tween our consciences and our God. The question what are our revealed
privileges is to be settled, not by an appeal to the conscious or visible
attainments of any individual or class of individuals, but ... by
reference to the law and to the testimony. The Spirit of the Lord
does know, and He alone can know, what ' things are possible with
God ' on the one hand, and what ' things are possible to him that
believeth ' on the other." — " Out of Darkness into Light; " by Dr.
Asa Mahan, p. 357.

GEOItGE WHITEHEAD.

469

children. " Yea, and much more of the same tendency,"
he writes, " has the Lord livingly signified and revealed
to me by His Holy Spirit, even in times of deep
suffering."

About this time (the winter of 1660-1) George
Whitehead, and his friends AVilliam Barber and John
Lawrence, who have been already mentioned, were
arrested at a meeting at Pulham-Mary, in Norfolk ;
the quiet assembly was violently disturbed by a con-
stable, who, although without a warrant, was attended
by a company of horsemen and footmen, apparently of
an irregular kind, for in addition to halberds, swords and
pistols, they were armed with pitchforks, hedgestakes,
and clubs. They dragged several Friends out of the
meeting, who were on the following day committed to
Norwich Castle, which, like many other prisons through-
out the land, now contained a large number of Friends.
The lodging-place of George Whitehead and his com-
panions was a narrow cell roofed by an old stone arch,
through which the rain freely penetrated ; and when, in
order to warm themselves during the cold winter even-
ings, they burnt a little charcoal, the absence of a
chimney caused it to be — as George Whitehead patiently
puts it — "somewhat injurious and suffocating." On his
part, he was struck with the manner in which his two
associates, who had formerly been captains in the army,
now passively and patiently suffered for the cause of
Christ. The Friends held many " comfortable meet-
ings " in the prison, which were sometimes attended by
several persons from without.

After a while, George Whitehead became so ill of
ague and fever that his friends thought he would die in

470

GEOIiGE WHITEHEAD.

prison ; but, as the time for holding the spring assizes
at Thetford approached, he believed that be should be
strengthened to ride the twenty miles which separate
that place from Norwich. Soon after his arrival at
Thetford, an elderly Friend told him with tears of the
terrible threats to Dissenters which the judge had made
use of in his charge ; but, with his unfailing faith,
George Whitehead tried to raise her spirits, by saying,
that the Lord would stand by them, and that he hoped
no Friends would be cast down, but that they would be
faithful to God and valiant for the Truth. This was no
mere precept, but what he was enabled to practise fully
himself; and according to his faith was it unto him,
for he writes of feeling the Lord's power over all, and of
how his fellow-prisoners and himself were kept in great
peace throughout the trial; and when, as he had anti-
cipated, he was sent back to Norwich Castle with several
others who were thought to be " the most eminent
among the Quakers," he cheerfully resumed his bonds,
and felt deep gratitude for the restoration of his health,
which the purer air and change of scene had probably
been the means of effecting.

As might be expected, the strong faith granted to
himself enabled him to sympathise with those in whom
it was less fully developed ; and whilst in Thetford
prison during the assizes his heart was drawn out in
loving interest towards an elderly Friend who was also
confined there. This gentleman, who had been the
mayor of that town and a justice of the peace, when
walking one day with George Whitehead in the prison
yard, told him of how he was harassed by the urgency
with which his relatives pressed him to take the Oath

GEORGE WHITEHEAD.

471

of Allegiance, in order to save his family and himself
from ruin ; he also confessed that his own faltering faith
had made this trial harder to bear. Yet he added, " 1
have considered Christ's words, ' No man having put
his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the
kingdom of God.' " Choosing inward peace rather than
outward ease, he was, although in direct violation of
Magna Charta, removed from his own corporation to
Norwich, to share the imprisonment of the Friends
confined in the county gaol. But all the pains taken by
his prosecutors to bring him under the penalty of a
praemunire were unavailing, for at the termination of
sixteen weeks the prisoners were released, in conse-
quence of the king's " Proclamation of Grace."

About this time more than 4,200 Friends of both
sexes were imprisoned in the various parts of England
for attendance at their meetings or for refusal to take
any oath. Often cruelly beaten, sometimes confined in
detestable dungeons, or so closely crowded together that
all could not sit down at one time ; exposed to severe
cold, and, in many cases, deprived of some of their
clothing ; kept without food for several successive days,
and obliged for lack of straw, to lie on the cold ground
— it would have been strange if many had not died-
The meetings in London were frequently dispersed with
violence ; and on one such occasion, George Whitehead
and his " beloved brethren," Richard Hubberthorn, and
Edward Burrough, were taken to Newgate, where the
two former shared a small pallet-bed, in a stiflingly
close cell. They might have had somewhat better
accommodation, notwithstanding the crowded state of
the prison, but chose this lodging-place out of con-

472

GEORGE "WHITEHEAD.

sideration for the poorer Friends who slept in the same
part of the gaol. A violent fever, the natural result of
over-crowding in warm summer weather, soon ended
the sufferings of some of the prisoners ; and Richard
Hubberthorn and Edward Burroucdi were amongst the
number. George Whitehead was twice imprisoned in
1664 for the offence of worshipping in "other man-
ner than is allowed by the Liturgy of the Church of
England ; " although even this was perhaps scarcely
proved against him; for at a trial of some similar case
we find one of the jurymen saying: "My lord, I have
that venerable respect for the Liturgy of the Church of
England as to believe it is according to the Scriptures,
which allow of the worship of God in spirit ; and
therefore I conclude to worship God in spirit is not
contrary to the Liturgy : if it be, I shall abate of my
respect for it."

During the Plague, although George Whitehead was,
as can be easily imagined, borne up "in living faith,
and true and fervent love, above the fear of death," his
heart — the more keenly susceptible of sanctified human
affection because of its abiding in Divine love — was
deeply moved, even to " great suffering and travail of
spirit, with earnest prayer," on behalf of his stricken
brethren ; and he visited them alike in their own houses
and in the prisons where their persecutors still detaiued
them. Although he had been previously engaged in
visiting meetings in the country, he felt that the Lord
had work for him in London in this season of sore
distress, and accordingly took up his abode at the house
of a tobacconist in Watling Street. With sympathy for
those who did not altogether share his own vigorous

GEORGE WHITEHEAD.

473

faith, he addressed two epistles to Friends, in which the

following remarks occur : —

" Retire to Him who is a sure Hiding Place to the upright
in the day of calamity, and the hour of temptation ; in Him
you will witness plenteous redemption, and the refreshments
of His life over ail the troubles and sufferings of the present
time, and over all the fears and douhtings which thereupon
would beset any of you either inwardly or outwardly. . . .
And live in the immortal seed and spiritual communion where
life and peace is daily received, and your mutual refreshment
and consolation stands, and wherein the spirits of tlie just are
seen and felt; even in thin spiritual communion ichich reaches
beyond all visihles, and is above all mortal and fading tilings.'"

And these are the words of no dreamy mystic, but
the testimony of a man who was spending his youthful
vigour iu active service for his Lord.

The meetings held at the Meeting-house built at
White Hart Court, after the great fire, were often broken
up with violence, and many of those who attended
them taken before the mayor. On such occasions George
Whitehead usually chose imprisonment rather than
the alternative of freedom on condition not only of a
promise to appear at the next sessions, but also " in
the meantime to be of the good behaviour ; " for he
knew that the public worship of God with his brethren
would be held as a breach of this, and had far greater
fear of a shackled soul than of a fettered body.

The general cause of religious liberty was zealously
advocated by George Whitehead, in the reigns of Charles
II., James II., William and Mary, Anne, George I., and
George II. ; and, in a preface to Whitehead's Auto-
biography, Samuel Tuke expresses the belief that he
was in a " considerable degree instrumental in obtaining
those civil and religious privileges now enjoyed by the

474

GEOltGE "WHITEHEAD.

Society of Friends." In 1672 he succeeded in pro-
curing from the king, the liberation of more than 400
Friends, some of whom had spent ten or eleven years
in prison. The King's Letters Patent under the Great
Seal, containing the names of the 400 prisoners eleven
times repeated, was a very bulky document on eleven
skins of vellum ;* and in these days of steam and
electricity we can hardly enter into the difficulties
which Whitehead and his friends encountered in
promptly conveying this mandate to numerous prisons
in England and Wales. With strength already worn
down by his lengthened labours in obtaining this
" pardon," Whitehead now went on horseback, with
two other Friends, into Essex, Suffolk, Norfolk, Hun-
tingdon, Cambridge, and Hertford, and in a fortnight's
time the " Patent " they carried with them — an un-
wieldy bundle in a leathern case and tin box — had
accomplished its work in those counties. Two duplicates
which George Whitehead had obtained of the original
document were sent by messengers to five other counties.
His greatest perplexity was, however, with regard to
the speed}- release of the Friends confined in " prisons
so remote " as those in Wales, and in the north and
west of England ; and which the approach of winter
made him very solicitous to effect, as longer confine-
ment might well cause the death of some of the captives.
Sir Matthew Hale, to whom, as Lord Chief Justice,
he appealed for aid, gave full and kind attention to the

* John Bunyan who, from his misapprehension of their views, had
bitterly decried Friends, was now released from his twelve years'
imprisonment in Bedford Gaol, in consequence of the inclusion of
his name with that of a few other Dissenters in the royal patent.

GEORGE WHITEHEAD.

475

subject, saying that if the prisoners would remove
themselves by Habeas Corpus and come before him, he
would liberate them on the king's pardon. But their
health was too seriously impaired for them to under-
take the long journey to London without hazarding
their lives, even had they not been too much im-
poverished to do so. The plan finally adopted by
George Whitehead and Ellis Hooks, was that of show-
ing the king's patent to the under sheriffs from the
counties in question, when they came to town at the
Michaelmas term, and thus obtaining " liberates " from
them to be sent to the various gaols.

In 1680, Georcre Whitehead and Thomas Burr, a fellow-
minister, were arrested whilst the former was preaching
in the Friends' meeting at Norwich, and confined in the
gaol. Their defence at the next quarter-sessions was a
very spirited one. The Ptecorder had said, " There is a
law, and the Church of England will never be quiet till
some of you be hanged by that law ; " and we find George
Whitehead afterwards winding up a remonstrance with
the words, " Let us have a fair hearing and trial ; let us
be tried before we are hanged ! " And again : — " I beg
of the Court, for God's sake, and the king's sake, to be
heard fairly without being thus run upon. It is prepos-
terous to run us upon the Oath in the first place, we not
being committed for that, but for other causes." When
sent back to prison George Whitehead and his com-
panions wrote to the mayor and aldermen ; but, although
their trial was voted out of place by the common council,
and the Earl of Yarmouth and other gentlemen exerted
themselves on their behalf, they were not liberated until
the time of the ensuing regular sessions.

476

GEORGE WHITEHEAD.

In the winter of 1680-1, George Whitehead, with
several other Friends, attended the Committee on the
Bill for exempting Dissenters from the penalties of
certain laws. He was particularly struck hy the com-
ments made by Sir Charles Musgrove, who, although a
zealous supporter of the Church, openly spoke of the
shame and scandal " which rested on it in connection
with the cruel persecution of Friends. In the two fol-
lowing years Whitehead was four times convicted under
the Conventicle Act ; on one of these occasions he was
fined £40, without being given the opportunity of vin-
dicating himself. The distraint was made by a constable
and two assistants, who seized every bed in the house,
and a variety of other valuable furniture, as well as
shop wares, and when two of his friends begged that the
goods might be appraised before being carried away, the
constable arrested them, stating on oath that they were
guilty of riot ; in consequence of this they were com-
mitted to Newgate for ten weeks. Whitehead obtained
a reversal of the magistrate's sentence, yet only £11
was returned to him, although the articles distrained
were worth three times that amount.

During the severe persecution in 1683, George
Whitehead and his friend Gilbert Latey perseveringly
and successfully exerted themselves on behalf of a large
number of Friends imprisoned at Norwich, and who —
as Whitehead told Xing Cliarle? — were " like to be
buried alive in holes and dungeons." In this year, not-
withstanding a three months' frost of such severity that
the Thames was used as a street, the Friends, still shut
out from their own meeting-houses, held their meetings
in the intense cold of the open air ; displaying that un-

GEOIIGK WHITEHEAD.

477

shaken firmness winch can, perhaps, be only manifested
in a good or an evil cause, l>y those who are aided by
God in the one case, or stimulated by Satan in the other.
Comfort came to them in their silent waiting on the
Lord, and they gladly made use of any opening for street
preaching, though often as soon as a sentence or two had
been spoken the minister would be forcibly dragged
away.

Truly it was a season for glorifying God by strong
faith in Him, and George Whitehead did not fail to use
it as such. " In those days I clearly saw," he writes,
" that the testimony required of us to bear, was not so
much in words, declaration, or ministry, as to stand our
ground in faith and patience, and to travail in spirit
with secret breathing and earnest sujjplication unto God.
It was often then before me that the Lamb and His
faithful followers should have the victory, which was
matter of secret comfort to me many times : glory be to
His name for ever ' " And he was right. Those down-
trodden Quakers, a scorn and a bye-word, were winning
a conquest little dreamt of by their mocking persecutors,
and wholly beyond their ken. What could they con-
ceive of a spirit which " takes its kingdom with entreaty,
and not with contention ? " for as in the natural, so in
the spiritual world, vision avails nothing without light;
and evil-doers hate and shun that light, in the ever-in-
creasing brightness of which the pure in heart press for-
wards, on the new and living way, seeing more and more
of God, and of those things which He has prepared for
them that love Him, and will reveal to them by His
Spirit.

On the accession of James II., George Whitehead,

478

GEOKGE WHITEHEAD.

Gilbert Latey, and Alexander Parker,* presented him
with a petition on behalf of the 1,460 Friends then
lying in prison, " only for tender conscience towards
Almighty God." The petitioners stated that some hun-
dreds had died in consequence of long captivity, and
alluded to " the woful spoil made by merciless informers,
etc., all tending to the ruin of trade, husbandry, and
industrious families ; to some not a bed left ; to others,
no cattle to till their ground or give them milk, nor
corn for bread and seed, nor tools to work withal."
Three or four months later, after a renewed appeal,
James gave a general warrant for the release of the pri-
soners, some of whom had been in bonds for periods of
ten, twelve, or fifteen years.

A wonderful relief it must also have been to the
Friends of those days when " Informers " were suppressed,
in consequence of George Whitehead's application for a
commission to inquire into their fraudulent practices —
for he likens them to " beasts of prey, lurking, creeping,
and skulking about in most parts of the nation " where
meetings were held. His friends, hearing of the in-
formers' furious threats concerning him, were afraid lest
they should carry them into execution : but for himself
he told the informers that he feared them not : that he
was bound in conscience to acquaint the Government
with their barbarities, and that no menaces of theirs
would hinder him from so doing. One of their leaders,

* Gongh writes of Alexander Parker as " being one in the number
of the worthies of this age, who were given up to the service of their
Maker, and the promoting of pure religion, and the practice of piety
in the nation — as the principal purpose of their lives ; " — and also
states that he was " well-educated, and had a gentleman-like carriage
and deportment as well as person."

GEOKGK WHITEHEAD.

479

who had caused Whitehead severe suffering, showed his
faith in the reality of the religion which it had been his
trade to assault, by applying to him for assistance with
regard to clothing, before entering the establishment of
a gentleman who had engaged him as his servant. This
was, of course, a too favourable opportunity of return-
ing good for evil for Whitehead to lose.

George Whitehead was twice married, and each union
was a happy one ; his second marriage — with a widow
named Ann Greenwell — took place in 1G88. Her
maiden name was Downer, and Sewel writes of her,
when she was about the age of thirty, as " the first
among women in this Society that preached at London
publicly." In 1G56, when George Fox and two other
Friends were confined in Launceston Gaol, they asked
her to come to them, to buy and dress their meat, and
to write for them in shorthand.* She peformed this
journey of two hundred miles on foot, and both in going
and returning her ministerial labours were much blessed.
Gough describes her as being "an extraordinary woman
helpful to many, tender to all, ready to communicate,
laying out herself for the good of others." The evening
before she died she said to her husband : " The Lord is
with me, I bless His name. I am well. It may be you

* It was during this imprisonment that George Fox was placed in
a fearfully loathsome dungeon where many he was told had died,
and also that it was haunted by spirits. But George Fox had too
long made use of the believer's privilege of trusting in " the exceed-
ing greatness of God's power," to be daunted now. " If all the
spirits and devils in hell are there " — was his reply — " I am over
them in the power of God, and fear no such thing. For Christ, our
Priest, will sanctify the walls and the house to us. He who bruised
the head of the devil, . . . Who sanctifies — both inwardly and out-
wardly— the walls of the house, the walls of the heart, and all things
to His people."

480

GEORGE WHITEHEAD.

are afraid I shall be taken away, and if it be, the will of
the Lord be done. Do not trouble yourselve3 nor make
any great ado about me. But, my dear, go to bed, go
to rest ; and if I should speak no more words to thee,
thou knowest the everlasting love of God ! "

In the early part of the reign of William III. George
Whitehead's heart was gladdened by the discovery that
many high in office had at last opened their eyes wide
enough to see that the granting of liberty of conscience
was not only an imperative Christian duty, but also an
essential element of the well-being of the Government
and nation. He was struck by the remark of a con-
spicuous member of the Church of England : " Neither
we nor you are safe without toleration." George White-
head took an active part in the earnest exertions to
which Friends were incited by their great anxiety that
the Act of Toleration should be made an effectual
measure. And in a satisfactory interview with the king
we learn that he spoke to him on "divers weighty
matters," finding an attentive and serious listener.
George Whitehead told him that it was true that Friends
had " of late been aspersed and misrepresented with
such nicknames as Meadites and Pennitcs, as if we set
up sect-masters ; yet we own no such thing ; but Christ
Jesus to be our only Master as we are a Christian
society and people."

In concluding " Christian Progress " (his auto-
biography), George Whitehead remarks, " Manifold
exercises, trials, and tribulations, hath the Lord my
God supported me under, and carried me through, in
my pilgrimage for His name and Truth's sake, more
than could possibly be related in this history ; having

GEORGE WHITEHEAD.

481

spent a long time, even the greatest part of my life
from my youth upward, in the testimony, service, and
vindication of the living unchangeable truth as it is in
Christ Jesus my Lord." A lively address to his friends,
written in his eighty-sixth year, was printed and
circulated amongst them. He is described as bein» a
tender father in the Church, and, as such, of great com-
passion, sympathising with Friends under affliction,
whether in body or mind. In his last illness he patiently
awaited the summons, " Come up higher," to the un-
veiled glory of that presence which, by faith, had been
for so long a time the strength and joy of his soul.
He died at the beginning of the year 1722, at the age
of eighty-seven, and was interred in the Friends'
Burial-ground, at Bunhill Fields.

" One of the finest sayings in the language " — writes
Charles Buxton — " is John Foster's ' Live mightily.' "
And George Whitehead had learnt the secret of doing
this ; a secret revealed not alone to those who, in
"obeying the ideal of life" set before them,* con-
spicuously glorify God, but also to the humblest
followers of Christ, in obscurest corners of the world,
who cleave to their Lord with that living faith which
of necessity bears the fruit of faith-fulness : — " Not by
might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord."

* Of Edward Dcnison, Canon Liddon writes : — " He, too, had
passed through a momentary indecision, whether he would or would
not ' obey the ideal of life which had come before him.' " How
many besides the young man who went away sorrowful from his
loving Lord lose inconceivably for lack of willingness to accept
Christ's proffered vocation ! Doubtless it might lead them in a
narrower path than their self-chosen one ; yet, even when roughest
and steepest, it could not lie far away from " the still waters " of
His peace, and " the green pastures " of His love.

2 i